#/This frankly is more about Looker getting to say his piece against him

[fallershipping]

Return to Sender

(Short Drabble) Nanu is tired of hiding, and Looker is tired of his bullshit. Both of them are in the wrong, and both of them are suffering the same trauma.

A little after midnight, Sushi High Roller’s cacophony of bar ambience was only just now beginning to die down. However, the hiss of hot oil and chatter amongst the tipsy patrons that yet remain is hardly a softer sound. Usually Nanu can tolerate this noise, but tonight he was grumbling curses under his breath as he tried to massage his temple. The lights were of no help either, and he craved the dark solitude of the empty Po Town police station.

But he can’t go ‘home’ quite yet, even after his meeting with Anabel being so short and awkward. She had paid for her portion of the meal when the sun was still high in the sky and departed for who knows where, who cares. Having declined giving her any sort of number or way to contact him, all she left behind was a written note:

‘Happy to see you again! :) - Anabel’

It remained there, untouched. He’ll put it in his pocket. Eventually.

What was he waiting for, anyway? The decision to seek her out again stirred over and over in his mind, but that opportunity to go over important words left unsaid was far gone. Interpol agent 000 wouldn’t have clammed up the way he did. He would have spoken bluntly over just what and how Interpol fucked them both over with. Instead, a tired, bitter, aching old man barely got through a normal conversation that he felt continuously detached from. Anabel’s pitying, disappointed gaze burned a hole into his memory.

He had been working with children for a long while that he had forgotten Anabel was a toughened woman approaching or already in her 30s. He couldn’t remember a voice that wasn’t patronizing, so everything he needed to say to her became trapped in his throat.

The scraping of the bar chair next to him was like a deafening sound in an already loud bar.

There he is.

Nanu took another swig of his whiskey and kept his eyes averted. Usually it is an act of dominance to not be the initiator of confrontation, and yet a part of him felt a new, meek desire to pretend to be senile and incoherent to avoid it entirely.

He only felt Looker’s radiating anger grow hotter next to him.

“Zeroes.” Gotta hand it to the rookie, he can hide the venom in his words with respect so well.

“… Don’t use that name in public.” Nanu croaked out, voice dry from alcohol and lack of use. “Guy’s dead, anyway.”

A curt snort. Nanu’s grip on his drink tightened.

“Clearly.” Looker waved off to the bartender now in front of him, just mouthing out ‘water.’ “Could you’d have been just the least bit nicer to Anabel— she thinks that she’s made you very upset.”

Nanu finally turned a glance to his side, crimson eyes a sullen glare. 

Looker was facing him directly. Back straight. Eyebrows deeply furrowed. A full on scowl directed at his once superior. Gone were the days when this man, though taller, was almost permanently hunched over and puppy-eyed, always hoping to please and to never disappoint. And now, though both sitting down, Nanu felt an unfamiliar, hateful sense of being so miserably small in his presence.

“She’ll get over it. You both should’ve known by now I’m not good company.”

Looker pinched the bridge of his nose. A glass of water was handed over to him in which he returned with a short nod and an inaudible ‘thank you.’ He exhaled, eyes closed, probably digging through his mind to figure out what to say.

Nanu grew impatient.

“Yeah. I didn’t tell her either.” A pause, choosing to lubricate his gullet with more whiskey. “Go on. Fucking mock me for it as if you’re any better. Remind me of what I promised at the Floating Restaurant— won’t change a damn thing.”

Looker stayed quiet. Paradoxical; the alcohol tonight making Nanu the talkative one while Looker was stone cold.

“Of course it won’t.” The detective’s voice was firm and clear. “Because now I know it’s why you left.”

The Kahuna sneered. He raised his glass again, only to roll the ice within it. But Looker was right; Nanu has had plenty of missed opportunities to talk to Anabel during the time he was watching her quickly climb the ranks.

“… Nanu, I’m not here to mock you—”

“You’re a bad liar, 100KR.”

“Not when we both don’t want to hurt her with something so—“

The elder officer finally turned himself fully to face his inferior.

“And surely this ‘bodyguard’ method of yours is keeping her safe, right? Where the fuck is Croagunk? Who the fuck put you back on UB work? Yeah I feel real at ease that Anabel is choosing to work with the guy who apparently can’t keep one thing alive—“

“ENOUGH.”

Looker slammed both his hands on the bar, his glass and ice shivering from the impact. The chair behind him screeched from Looker raising himself to full height. The formal composure he was keeping out of respect was breaking with the redness in his face, his breathing intensified. The light fixture behind his head casted a dark shadow to his expression; provoked, irate. Hurt.

For the longest time, Nanu found a dark comfort seeing the pain behind those dark grey eyes. He wanted his rookie to feel that weight on his shoulders. He wanted him to never forget the dressing down given a decade ago for the catastrophic failure that came with a permanent cost. Nanu’s said words he never, ever truly meant— a slowly constricting, consuming regret that at that time, it felt better to say ‘It should have been you.’ 

But now, the Kahuna looked into his ex-subordinate’s eyes, and he only saw his own reflection staring back.

Looker put a hand to his chest, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. In, and out. Breath shuddering as he sat back down onto his seat. His head hung low in shame after causing a bit of a scene. The rest of the restaurant barely had much of a reaction. Looker swallowed dryly, before remembering his own drink laid before him.

The whiskey wasn’t fairing well in Nanu’s stomach. He turned away from his companion— venting out his grievances just felt disgusting now instead of relieving. It came in flashes: his failed Rocket heist. A partner dying in his arms. Leading his team only to get critically injured en masse from an ambush. Every and all baggage that he dealt by condemning someone else. Someone who he could pretend was a younger Agent 000.

“… Working with Anabel. Made me remember something– about that day.”

“KR—“

“It’s my damn turn to talk, sir.” Looker’s voice, weary as it now was, cut through like daggers. 

The detective continued. “Glutton trashed against the walls, threatening to cause a cave-in after we had left it half blinded. I still remember the roars like scraping metal machinery and glass…”

“By the time my ears stopped ringing, it wasn’t screaming anymore. It couldn’t scream anymore. I found it digging into the corner of the cave, curled up like a Togedemaru when predators won’t leave it alone, and I asked myself for the first time why we were sent with full orders to kill something we’ve never seen before.”

The vision was clear as day ten years later. Nanu recalled a thick smell of iron in the air.

“I-I. I couldn’t do it. I recalled my… Pokémon. I tried signaling a retreat, I considered throwing one of my spare Pokéballs, maybe calling for backup, anything.” 

“KR, I told you to take the shot.”

“And I asked of you to stand down.” Looker interrupted. “While you ordered Krookodile to attack it.”

The beast released a guttural scream. The reptile Pokémon’s claws dug deep into its already wounded skin, and it fled from its hiding spot. An animal cornered will seek out any escape out of desperation. An animal cornered will do anything it can to survive, retreating to something of a familiar, comforting scent.

“… ___. She felt like a safe Wormhole home, Nanu. And we both didn’t know.”

Nanu can’t seem to remember ___’s  face anymore. Or her remains. All that was left were flashes of white and red, and suddenly being at Poni beach; Looker hunched over an unknown purple haired woman that had washed ashore.

“… Do you know how many we’ve successfully contained after the new Task Force?” Looker traced a number on the bar table with his pointer finger, “Twenty-three. Twenty-three out of twenty-three recorded breaches. Sometimes the chase is delayed, but every mission has ended in success. We are ordered to kill or contain— whichever is the most possible. I thought I would… Have had to kill every single one that came through the rift. That this was the only way after how wrong I was before. To keep the Chief–to keep everyone alive.”

Looker inhaled deeply. “I never wanted to return to Beast work, even more so when I saw Anabel again as my boss… It was not until the Ultra Ball hit the ground with a final locking ‘click’ that she said something that vindicated what I felt so long ago– they were only scared, wild animals; only dangerous when provoked beyond their limit.”

There was a prevailing bitter taste in Nanu’s mouth, whether it be the whiskey or having bitten the inside of his mouth from clenching his teeth so hard. Despite everything he had said or felt before, he cannot deny how much Looker has remained one of the only Interpol names deemed trustworthy. He holds his error as an ever looming burden, yet greatly relies on him to always do the right thing. He scolds the younger agent for overcomplicating and stumbling over a very difficult situation pertaining to Anabel’s secret Faller status, yet the elder retiree had abandoned both Looker and Anabel to handle that on their own. Not like he couldn't make a decision on whether allowing someone to continue to passionately work for an agency that used someone like her before, or tell her just how lost and alone she is with no one to help and absolutely no way to travel home. Keep it hidden how much one is risking their life or give them absolutely no life left to live for: Nanu chose to run.

It was clear that the Chief and Detective have been excelling far beyond these tired old bones, especially at the tail end of his service. On a better day, one not spent drowning in self pity, he’d admit to being proud.

“... I will never be proud of how much I’ve failed, sir. Croagunk has passed away.”

Nanu turned once more to his younger colleague. He wanted to say something, yet nothing came from him. Looker didn't look in his direction once; the man was adjusting his coat and finishing his glass. The detective stood up from the bar, nodding another thank you to the bartender and returning his chair to its place underneath the counter.

“… I’m going to tell Anabel everything, the higher ups be damned, and when I do,” He straightened the wrinkles in his duster coat, “You’ll be responsible for yourself, and tell her exactly why we didn’t hear from you for years.”

“Fuck off, KR…”

“Have a good night, Zeroes.”

Looker turned on his heel and walked out the doorway out into the cool Alolan night. All Nanu saw was the back of the man’s head. He groaned, running his hand through his fully grey hair, staying at his seat for a good long while as the ice melted in both glasses.

Whiskey left unfinished, he placed enough money on the table right beside Anabel’s leftover note, and finally left for the rundown station he called home.

[xiomarawinters]

Mummy Dust

@the-hobgoblins

Xiomara’s chest heaved as she leaned on the wall to gasp for air. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force air into her lungs- to fucking breathe. She felt woozy, a side effect of being beat up by two strangers with her former boss standing by with a sneer on his face. Her eye was swollen and weeping, her lip was split, her nose was beaten. She looked like she’d gone in the ring with a fucking Hippogriff. Xi had no idea what to do. Where to go? Who to call? What happened now? She remembered the chilling warning, hissed into her ear:

Don’t show your fucking face here again, or I’ll peel it off.

Groaning, Xiomara clutched her stomach as she forced herself to stand and stumble away from the wall, out of the alley. Not looking where she was going, Xiomara literally ran into something- someone- and she stumbled back, raising a hand and shrinking away, certain that it was Mathis changing his mind. “No please I-”

She opened her eyes, frowning when she saw two oddly-dressed people in front of her. Xiomara squinted, it was difficult to see, but she thought she could make out the outline of two hedge witches who visited the Free Trader Beowulf Safehouse. There was a deep pounding in her head- Xi couldn’t remember their names for the life of her. They’d come with Piper. “I-I know you- Please don’t, I can leave, I’ll go- I just-”

Maeko was lounging on the bed in Oz’s room, puffing on a spliff while Oz hummed and swayed in uncoordinated circles in a pair of Dylan’s pleaser boots. ‘Practicing,’ he said, but Maeko had yet to see any improvement.

After some incident with Loxley that he was less than keen to talk about, he and Piper had gone to Professor Sprout’s farm to lay low for a little bit. Borgin and Burkes was unnervingly quiet without them.

“Mae?” Oz mused suddenly, looking out the window of the second floor bedroom into the empty alleyway below.

“Hm?” Maeko’s black-ringed blue eyes slid to one side to look at him.

“You remember that blonde bird? Looker…mean streak?”

“Who?” Maeko questioned with only mild interest, well used to her half-brother’s half-sensical high ramblings.

“From the safehouse. Tall famous snack of a boyfriend—used to be a gajillionaire.”

“Oh, sure. Xiomara Winters…she used to be in Tu—in Paxton’s house. At Hogwarts.” Maeko took a drag, blew it out, and then added, “…what about her?”

“She’s down in the alleyway, there—some goons givin’ her trouble, looks like…”

“What?!” Maeko stood up and stamped out the spliff, then hopped over to the window and peered down. Sure enough, there was Mathis watching with cruel amusement as Xiomara Winters brawled with two of his nastier-looking associates. “Motherfucking—that lowlife knows not to bring his shit near this building…”

Maeko was already pulling on some jeans and slipping her feet into shoes, and Oz followed suit by pulling off the boots and putting his bare feet into his loose high tops. “Oh goody! Are we rescuing damsels today?” He wrapped a shawl around his bare chest in lieu of a shirt, looking hopeful.

“Looks like it.”

They must have missed Mathis by mere minutes, which irritated Maeko, who had been hoping to give him a piece of her mind. They might have missed Xiomara too if she hadn’t run straight into Oz in her haste to flee the alleyway.

“Hey! Hold on there girlie, we’re not gonna hurt ya…” said Oz.

“Are you alright?” Maeko added, concerned. “Merlin’s balls, you look like shit…did they jump you, or something?”

“At least come inside and get cleaned up, maybe take a few PK’s for the road…us hedges gotta look for each other, don’t ya know?” Oz held out a hand toward Xiomara to help her up.

It wasn't until Xiomara heard their voices that she made the connection to their names- Maeko and Oz. Maeko she knew less about, but Oz? Fucking hell. They kept meeting. She reached up to wipe under her nose with her wrist to stop the bleeding. Xi flicked her gaze up to Maeko as she sniffed, trying to steady her breathing. "Old friends." Was the only explanation she gave, partly because she couldn't think of anything else- partly because she truly didn't know if or what curses Mathis had added while he'd stood there, watching her with a curled lip.

She shook her head at the offer, but did let Oz help her up. "If Mathis sees you let me in…" Xi warned, but she didn't have much of a choice, needing to lean on the hedge witch just to stand. 

They hobbled into Borgin & Burke's, Xiomara felt more and more ill with every step until she was helped onto a couch of some description. She slumped, leaning forward to rest her head in her hands to stop the pounding. Her head was pounding, she felt hot, sick, overwhelmed, like a fire was burning in her chest- not unlike the sensation just before she'd burst the door off its hinges with Loxley.

Trying to remember Howell's warnings, and her Healer's pleading to breathe, Xi tried, in her broken, bloody nose, then out her mouth, past her split lip. She shook.

Xi looked up at the two of them, blinking drearily. "Please don't tell Nate. Don't tell any of them. If Mathis finds the safehouse, he'll-"

Xiomara jumped when there was a sudden knock at the door and she leaned back on the couch, wincing.

Maeko arched a brow at Xi as if to say, you need some better friends, mate, but otherwise didn’t comment; people from Knockturn Alley never pried into other peoples’ business as a rule. When the woman stumbled against Oz Maeko reached out to steady her, too; if she couldn’t even stand on her own there was no way she was gonna make it out of here without some help. “…then he can shove off,” Maeko finished for Xi, dismissing any lingering question of them helping her, “His lot know better than to fuck with a Burke.”

It was a group effort getting Xiomara inside, and after she’d been sat down Maeko flitted around silently gathering a few things—some clean towels, some ice, a large glass of water. Oz gave her a worried look when she rejoined the pair of them in the parlor and Maeko knew he saw what she was seeing: this girl looked really fucked up. Like—more than just a scrap kind of fucked up. Maeko gathered some ice into a hand towel to form an ice pack and held it out toward Xi.

“Can I tell him a few other things, then…?” Oz murmured suggestively, and Maeko kicked his shin; not the time.

There was a knock at the door and Xiomara looked about ready to jump out of her skin. Maeko handed the ice pack to Oz, who offered it to Xi, while Maeko walked over and put a hand on the closed door and closed her eyes, feeling the disturbance in the old building’s intricate wards that were powered by the same blood that ran through her veins. After just a moment, she said nonchalantly, “Cops…” and then walked back toward the other two. One look at Xiomara’s face and she added, “…bloody hell, relax. It’s not like they can get in here.”

Oz, who was kneeling in front of Xi and filling another towel with ice, waggled his brows and added proudly, “We’re what the au-thor-i-ties like to call infamous…”

Xiomara took the makeshift ice pack and held it over the bruised eye, which was what hurt the most. She managed to shift the towel with her other hand to squeeze her nose to try and stop that bleeding, as well. From behind her towel-face Xi narrowed her eyes at Oz- if this was another fucking joke about him genuinely thinking she was a sex worker…

She was on edge at the knock to the door, terrified Mathis had seen Maeko and Oz let her in and despite Maeko’s reassurances… Xi was not very reassured. She’d seen what he could do. Felt it. Xi swallowed, wondering if she’d prefer Magical Law Enforcement or Mathis’s goons- neither, frankly. “I’m on probation,” She said lowly, explaining. “There’s no way they saw, though, right? Mathis had that place warded up like-” She winced, “Like crazy.”

Xi looked down at Oz, wincing and shifting how she held the ice pack. It was a bit like using a spray bottle to put out a wildfire- everything hurt. She still jumped when there was another sharp knock at the door, hated herself for it. The blonde squinted at the hedge witch in front of her, imagining him getting into any sort of trouble with relative ease. “Oh yeah? What’d you do?” She had to keep the conversation going to stop the fear that ran rampant through her veins. He’d found her, he’d found her. You’ll. Explode.

Maeko and Oz both nodded at Xi in unison, commiserating, looking unnervingly related. Maeko glanced at the door when there was a second knock, but otherwise didn’t respond at all, instead taking out and lighting a cigarette with an aloof air. 

Oz laughed, and stretched in his position on the floor until he was lounging half on the couch where Xiomara was sat and his legs were sprawled across the wood floor. He put his arms back, his head in his hands. “Morrigan’s Three Tits, what haven’t I done?” he began with a grin. “…bastard child whose mere existence was an offense worth keepin’ decades-old secrets, for starters…wasn’t allowed to learn magic like the lot of ya—but you know all about that, now, don’t ya? Well let me tell you somethin’—the safehouses on the Irish rounds aren’t so accommodatin’ as your Putney Palace with Mister Nathaniel Pinnock. You gotta do more than prove you can perform…if you want magic there, you gotta earn your keep. I did a lot of, ah…disreputable things, in exchange for spells. Turned tricks, traded drugs…lied, and stole, and cheated, and scrapped, and worse…” Oz sighed, and it was an odd combination of sad and wistful. Then he added cheekily, “…not to mention I spat in the face of a cunt at your Ministry not too long ago.”

Here, Oz looked expectantly at Maeko, who just shrugged and said wryly, “I’m…Maeko Burke.”—as if this explained absolutely everything. Which, to her, it did. But after about a minute of being fixed with Oz’s go on… eyes, Maeko gave a sigh of her own, and then continued in a slow, dreamy tone—as if recounting a past life—“What is there to say? You come from Knockturn Alley, with a name like mine, and it doesn’t matter what you done—people expect you to be a bad seed and somehow, they always turn out right. I snuck out of school in fifth year to go to a protest, turned into a riot. My wand at the time was a family heirloom, or some shit, and when I did some dark magic with it to protect myself it—turned against me. Fucked with my head, took over…made me almost kill my best friend before I snapped it in half. In sixth year my parents were involved in a plot to assassinate the Hogwarts Headmistress, and I was nearly forced into being their accomplice. And when they were shipped off to Azkaban, instead of leaving it all behind like I always swore I’d do, starting over, I came back here to live in this shithole—my grand fuckin’ inheritance—and those bastards out there are just waiting for me to do something really nasty, so they can justify what they’ve thought about me all along. As if I’d ever give ‘em the satisfaction…so look, just because your family, or the Ministry, or the entire fuckin world, or you your own damn self have backed you into a corner? You don’t have to be what they’ve written you off to be. It’s your choice. And keeping people constantly guessing about just what it is you’ll do next? It’s fun. Now…” Toward the end of this speech, Maeko had moved to stand in front of Oz and Xi; she handed Oz her cigarette and then pulled out her wand and pointed it at Xiomara’s face. “…hold still. Episkey.” Xiomara’s broken nose healed just as there was another knock at the door.

Xiomara frowned lightly, listening to the stories of each of the hedge witches in front of her. She overheard them at the flat sometimes- most hedges came with a story, most magic bloomed in adversity. While Maeko and Oz were unique, like every other hedge witch, their stories were uncomfortably familiar. All intertwined. And Oz’s former affiliations explained a lot about why they’d run in the same circles so often. She thought about bothering to explain to Oz that the hedge circle wasn’t hers or Nate’s, she wanted to explain the Free Traders as best she could, pieced together from Nate’s nonsensical rambling-- or maybe even ask more about Maeko’s story, dig in, ask why she’d never heard of it-- but Xi was still just…. Coping with what had happened. She could listen and that was about it. 

The ice was melting in the summer heat, Xiomara moved the ice pack just as Maeko approached her and pointed a wand at her fucking face. Her eyes widened and Xi froze, even if the witch hadn’t instructed her to stay still she would’ve been frozen on the spot out of pure fear. The sensation of her nose being fixed was painful and she groaned, leaning forward to clutch it and swearing. She eyed the door with a glower and then picked up a fresh handful of ice, wrapped it in the towel then put it against her eye. “Thanks.” She commented. Their stories had done remarkably well at distracting her from the current, shitty situation. 

Her phone vibrated against her thigh and she squinted, looking down at it, genuinely surprised it hadn’t short circuited because of the magic in the- a blip, and the phone screen went black. Well. Spoken too soon. She put the phone back in her pocket, against the pack of cards she’d bought for Nate that morning, and then leaned back in the couch, her hand moving up to dangle over her newly-fixed nose. Xi trembled, giving a shaky breath out. “... Any chance I could borrow a cigarette?”

---

Xiomara didn’t know when she’d fallen asleep. It had to have been the early hours of the morning. Mae fell asleep long before she and Oz had drifted off. Oz and Xi spoke quietly, she could see him itching to touch her, to cuddle, but he kept his hands firmly to himself, even sat on them at one point. They traded war stories. Hummed songs. Smoked. Smoked a lot. 

It seemed that she’d only just fallen asleep when her phone buzzed to life again and she started, blinking rapidly and reaching for her phone, studying the screen. Nate. Merlin, he was probably laying a fucking egg by now… Xi reached up to rub her eyes and then hissed at the painful sensation. She put her phone on mirror mode- fuck, it looked bad. She locked her phone immediately and put it in her pocket, then pushed herself to stand. She was wobbly, all limps and sighs just to get to the front door. She had to get to Nate before he did something stupid out of worry.

Xiomara had barely opened the front door a crack before two wix in green robes pushed into the home. She stumbled back, tripping over some sort of metallic artefact that fell to the ground with a spectacular bang. “You- You need a warrant to be in here!” She thought she was talking evenly, calmly, but it sounded more like a shriek.

“No. We don’t. There are two and a half criminals in this property, you were seen fleeing a crime scene, and you two-” The wizard looked up, finding Maeko and Oz now standing, “Aided a person fleeing said crime scene. So, we have due cause not only to enter the property, but given you’re on parole, we can search you at will. As well.”

Xi folded her arms, stepping back from the Aurors. “You can fuck off.”

“Here I am, conducting a search.” The second auror said loudly, patting over his own pockets with a hum. He spoke through the contents of his pockets- a packet of gum, a quill, a train ticket- and then, he pulled out a small plastic baggie, with what looked like vacuum cleaner lint inside. “And- oh, dear. Xiomara, is this Mummy Dust?”

Xiomara was stunned. Genuinely, actually in fucking shock. She blinked stupidly, looking back at Maeko and Oz with her mouth half open. “... Are you… Is this a joke?”

“Xiomara Winters, you’re under arrest for breaching the terms of your parole, and being found with a prohibited substance.” She put her hands up, stepping back and away from them.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Are you- Are you for real?” Xi still could not comprehend it. He held up the bag, waving it a little, and then stepped forward, removing his wand from his sleeve. She barely had time to register what the fuck was going on over Maeko and Oz’s loud protests, before her arms were pinned behind her back with a swish of the Auror’s wand. Maeko stepped forward, bless her, but then the wand was pointed at her-

Xiomara blinked uncomprehendingly, mouth still popped open in shock before she was being spun, and apparated out of Borgin & Burkes. 

Maeko had fallen asleep curled up like a cat in a tiny fetal-position ball on an armchair, while Oz had dozed sitting up, with his head resting on a cushion of the loveseat on which Xiomara was curled with her legs up and bent at an angle. It was a peaceful scene—for half an hour, maybe. An hour tops. 

And then Maeko let out a cry of pain as she felt someone force entry through the wards on her home, without her explicit invitation; a loophole. She jumped to her feet, clutching her side, and Oz startled to the noise and scrambled up, protectively. The pair of them looked at each other and then heard voices in the entryway; Xiomara. Maeko shook off the pain and scowled, grabbing her wand and marching into the room where the commotion was, with Oz trailing close behind her.

Maeko came in on the offensive, with her wand raised threateningly. “Oi—you fuckin’ pigs have no right to—”

“I’d hold your tongue if I were you, Miss Burke…” one of the robed wizards cut her off dismissively, “…you’re a person of particular interest in this precinct, and my partner and I would just love to be the ones to finally bring you in—they’d probably give us a medal ’n everything.”

That did shut Maeko up for the moment, but she didn’t lower her wand at all, and continued to glare at the clearly corrupt officers as they performed their ‘search’ on Xi. She glanced over at Oz and saw him looking on wide-eyed and helpless, wringing his hands. There were specks of dust swirling around him in an unnatural way, and when he met Maeko’s gaze she shook her head at him and mouthed silently, no… Oz’s magic tended to be unstable and unpredictable, and now was definitely not the time for any kind of erratic outburst. 

But then Xiomara was being roughly restrained, and both Maeko and Oz’s attention returned to her; Oz said loudly, “Get your fuckin’ hands off of her—” while Maeko, at the same time, growled, “Oh like fucking hell you think we’re just gonna let you—”

Maeko stepped forward, and was about to fire off the first spell that came to mind, when in a blip the intruders were gone, along with Xiomara. Oz emitted a pained, defeated sort of sound, while Maeko shook with rage, before forcing herself to slowly lower her wand. 

She turned to face Oz, and he said, “What now?”

Maeko shook her head, not seeing anything they could do. But then, after a moment, she had a thought; “We…we should go to Putney…” Oz cocked his head at her, and Maeko added, “…we should go to Xiomara’s safehouse and talk to that prick, Nathaniel Pinnock. About what went down.”

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Omg Tay, I have so much to say about Oberon! Seriously, I made a new note on my phone so I could remember all my reactions to it. First of all, AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! IT'S SO FREAKING GOOD AND THE WORLD BUILDING YOU DID REALLY PAID OFF AND I'M SO PROUD OF YOU FOR FINISHING THIS BEHEMOTH OF A FIC!!!! I digress, the world building was so beautifully done. The different take in fairies (regarding the leaf fairies) and the tree traveling! All the different species of creatures in the central village!

2/6)  It was all wonderful! I especially loved how you spent some time on how the OC was cleaned up to show the difference in how it's done there. Speaking of cleaned up, I LOVE ALINA! SHE'S SO CUTE AND I WANTED MORE OF HER TAY! I love how you made all of the OC's dresses resemble flowers in some way, it really ties in the importance of nature to the Fae. I got mad Beauty and the Beast vibes at some parts too. On-Looker's Lake, when the OC sees the books, and Joon saving the OC being the best examples

3/6)  I deadass thought that the thing in the lagoon was a kraken! Idk why, but I did😂 and then I was like "update: it's a kelpie". I wanted to also mention how you took a twist on environmental activism in the human world. I'm definitely a sustainability conscious person and I thought that the dichotomy of the Order and the RAO was fascinating. I also really liked how you made it that the "waves cannot keep secrets" instead of the trees or flowers cannot keep secrets we see so much in literature!

4/6)  Also, the fact that the OC was like "Namjoom sounds fake" 😂 I laughed so hard when I read that! I also wrote down "THE MANDRAKE LEAF!! HARRY POTTER IS BACK BITCHES". I was just really happy about it. Also, I really liked the part where Joon showed the OC Titania via their dreams. I thought it was well done and I loved the intermingling of the real memory and then the possible (which definitely happen) interaction with the OC. Tbh, I thought Titania's soul was doing some weird stuff to the OC

5/6)  But it just turned out to the air,,, I'd really love to see more(?) interactions with the OC and Titania via dreams or while unconscious. I think it would be really cool. Lastly, I was highkey hoping Joon would kill the Order dudes. It would have been nice to see, but I guess diplomacy is fine too. I do have a few questions for you. With the tree traveling, is it via the root system or the trunks and branches? You mentioned going up so I wasn't 100% sure

6/6)  Also, what is the time difference between the human and fae realms? I know that the Fae realm is slower than the human realm, but by how much? Overall this was such an amazing piece of work and it definitely took Blight's spot for #1 out of your fics. Your hard work paid off and I'm so glad that I could help keep you motivated and (somewhat) sane while at work or writing. Lastly, I really love that (literal) cliffhanger you left us at😂😂 Much love Tay💜

WAAAH LILAC THERE IS SO MUCH TO UNPACK HERE AND I LOVE IT.  I love that you took note while reading- that makes me so happy uwu. First, I’m happy you were happy with the world-building! I only complained about it to you about aBAZILLION TIMES LOL.  And the Leaflets design was inspired by me actually pulling apart leaves as a hobby when I’m forced to sit in nature LOL.  

I ALSO LOVE ALINA.  I WANT TO MAKE THIS CLEAR.  I didn’t intend to have as many OCs as I did (three to be specific + Titania ig) in this piece, but although I love all of them, my little mute Alara fairy girl is def. my favorite.  10/10 would die for her. I actually didn’t realize any parallels while writing it, but yeah I can def. see the Beauty and the Beast connections now that you point it out- how neat! 

For the Kelpie, I had a lot of options when choosing what species of fairy to make the quote ‘bad guy’ when looking through te Unseelie Court, but the Kelpie was the one I was most familiar with (thanks anime LOL) so I just went with them.  Plus, the thing under the water holding her down while the KEplie attacked her, wasn’t actually another Keplie but instead a dead tree that had fallen into the lake because a branch of the Order’s pollution killed it.  It sensed the OC’s humanity, thus deemed her the enemy.  

For the inclusion of the Order and the RAO, the whole premise of this is absolutely an anti-pollution thing as that is the *biggest* issue the RAO has with the Order and their constant want to burn down/shrink the forest or just kill it (I mean how dumb amiright?). I didn’t want to play into it too much, well bc who wants to read a 42k fic about pollution and rebellion in the form of going against the government? Sounds too much like irl politics if you ask me LOL. 

For the ‘waves keeping secrets’ I kept it like that instead of the forest greenery because unlike the forest’s grass or trees or flowers, the water has a distinct connection between Liana and the human world!  All sorts of gossip come from the water LOL. 

LOL The ‘namjoon sounds fake’ line was actually for the original concept where this was gonna be a wonho fic.  He was gonna announce himself as Wonho and not Hoseok, so she would accuse him of a ‘fake name’ and later on he’d really tell her his birthday.  However, when I changed idols, I decided to keep it in for comedy!! (also the mandrakes actually weren’t inspired by HP, but from an RPG horror game Mad Father, bc ya girl hasn’t seen/read any HP material oops) 

If I’m being honest, the parts featuring Titania and the dreams the OC was materialized in are some of my favorite parts.  Not just because I loved Titania and the way she held herself in her short little scenes, but because it opened more of Oberon’s story.  Briefly touching on his reluctance to be King Oberon to fast-forwarding to the point he had to rule on his own when she died.  

The reason the OC got so sick was a mixture of things.  In the story, obvs it’s explained it was the air.  However, there is more too it! I kept it brief because in the moment, Namjoon didn’t have the time for a proper explaination- both when the OC was dying and when he was explaining things to Changkyun and her on the cliffside.  The reason really tied back to the Kelpie.  

It was explained that the Kelpie took a chunk of her magic when it attacked her at the grey lake, right? Well, it’s because of the chunk of magic it took that Liana’s air became toxic. OC’s magic was tied into her by the soul fragment she was born with that held Titania.  When the Kelpie attacked her, it took a large part of that fragment out- the piece that was able to breathe and live in the forest's air like Titania once did.  So, in a sense, it was Titania keeping her safe from the pure air, and when she lost it, it all went downhill.  so, you were really wrong to assume it was Titania! 

Tbh, the ONLY reason Namjoon didn’t kill the Order platoon was bc before he could the OC was already marching towards them and he didn’t want to risk anything.  If she hadn’t started going to the leader for his radio, he would have made tree-kababs out of them. 

For the Tree Trunk Travel System (as our OC calls it lol), it was a mixture of root connections and teleportation.  All the trees int he forest are connected via their underground root system.  For traveling to be possible, you’d get into a tree, think of the place you want to travel to, and through, magic relay that to the tree so it could find the root of the nearest tree to that location.  Then it’d be a gust of wind from below (because of the roots finding the passage) before you disappear and reappear somewhere near! It’s a lot less complicated than it sounds lol.

The time difference between Liana and the human world is a big funky I’ll admit.  I didn’t put a lot of thought into it frankly.  However, as stated when OC returns after her ‘almost dying attack’ Changkyun mentions how she was gone for two months.  Before that, OC mentions how she had been in Liana a month. So, it’d be easiest to assume that Liana moves and works a full month behind the humans.  So, for example, April in the Human world would still be March in Liana.  

WOW THIS GOT LONG LOL. I hope I answered all your questions (and if not just ask me again LOL).  I’m so so so grateful to you for reading it and keeping me motivated to write it! And ofc, your moral support while I edited this monster LOL.  Who knows, maybe next time I’ll ask you to beta if something ever get’s this big again LOL (probably not bc i have a guilty conscience alsdkjf).  

I’m glad you enjoyed Oberon as much as you hoped and although Blight may not be #1, I don’t think Jungkook would mind since Namjoon took his place LOL.  

Much love coming to you from me!!! 

[i-do-ships-and-stuff]

Hi!I just discovered your blog and honestly your writing is just👏😭🥰🎉 Anyways, I’d like to request a one shot: reader is a teenage girl (about 16) who lives on the streets.She is a highly skilled card magician and can throw cards and stuff as well,but that doesn’t help when she is attacked by some mugger/gang.She is saved by Carol Danvers(hope you write for Captain Marvel)who then proceeds to help with her injuries and befriends her,evebtually them becoming roomies.Just fluff and 90s music😄

Oh wow. When I read your compliments I literally squealed you are SO SWEET 🍭

To the Rescue

Pairing: Carol Danvers x female reader (platonic)

Word Count: 1,412

Warnings: Cursing, reader is attacked by a group of men, leg injuries, catcalling?, really bad writing

Gif not mine

The “oh”s and “ah”s of the crowd filled your small corner of the street as you preformed. The sound of their amusement was music to your ears. The fact that you, a 16 year old girl with card tricks, was gathering more on-lookers than most of the grown men with real circus acts made your heart swell.

This wasn’t the first time that had happened. You’d been living on the streets for a while, spending most of your days searching for food. When you weren’t doing that you were practicing. With all the experience you had it was no wonder your performance was more attractive.

“May I have a volunteer?” You asked the crowd.

Adults and children alike began jumping wildly with their hands raised. You searched the crowd until you found one particular little boy who sat in a wheelchair, one of his legs looking horribly mangled under its bright green cast.

“How about you?” You said as you looked to the father for approval. He took no time to wheel the boy forward, stopping him right by your side.

“And what’s your name?” You asked the him.

“Will,” he replied with a squeaky little voice. “I’m 6 years old!”

You laughed. “Well, Will, I’ve got a little trick, but I can’t do it without you. Can you help me pick a card?”

He nodded furiously.

“Okay. I need you and your dad to pick a face and a shape. Can you do that?”

After a minute of whispering to his father the boy shouted “Jack and hearts!”

And, without looking, you “magically” pulled the card he announced from the stack.

“Uh oh.” You began. “I’m gonna need a little more. Pick a number.”

“Six!” He cried. “Because I’m six years old!”

You flicked the card and smirked as the crowd gasped. Right before their eyes the card had changed. In the corners of the original cards now sat a printed number 6.

Will was the most excited. He sat in his chair and reached up as high as his little arms could go trying to grab the card from you. You smiled and went to hand it to him but lost your grip on it and it flew away in the wind. You grabbed for it in the sky, but it was too late. Or so it seemed.

Will was heartbroken. “I wanted that card…”

Your shoulders slumped and you frowned, attempting to look upset. In reality, you were very excited for your next move.

“Oh, Will. I’m so sorry. I’m so clumsy sometimes… “ you began before pointing at his leg. “What’s that coming out of your cast?”

Will looked to where you printed and noticed a small piece of paper folded perfectly into four squares protruding from his cast. His eyes lit up as he unfolded it to find a Jack of Hearts with a 6 in two of the corners.

The crowd cheered wildly and you took a bow.

“Thank you, thank you! I’ll be here again tomorrow!” You shouted before taking off your hat and offering it up to the crowd. One by one people walked up a placed bills and change into the hat, and you watched excitedly as it piled up.

Yea, that day was going perfectly well. Not only had you made a little boy very happy but you had made more than enough to get a meal and room for the night. It wasn’t until around 8:00 that night as you made your way to the cheapest motel that you could find when things started getting a little sticky.

“Hey, Sweetheart!” You heard a man’s voice shout from behind you. When you turned you saw an entire group of men, all extremely physically fit and wearing only pants and shoes. You recognized them as the acrobats that preformed on the block down from yours.

“You think you can just wave some paper around and steal all of our customers?” One of them shouted.

“Yea! Why don’t you just take all your dumb tricks and find another street! Just move!” Another said.

You felt frozen. They were all at least a foot taller than you with muscles like rock. Frankly, you had no idea how you found the courage to say “or what”.

“Or what!” Their laughs combined sounded like the roars of a bear. “Move or we’re gonna follow you and take all the money out of your stupid little hat every night.”

The second man looked into your eyes and said “how about we give you a preview?”

You felt yourself clutch onto the hat you collected tips in and you ran as fast as you could. It was no use. Within seconds the men had you pinned to the ground, grabbing for your hat.

All you could see was fists and shoes attacking you from above. You screamed as loud as you could, desperate for anyone to hear. After a few minutes of struggling it seemed no one would.

“Move, you little rats.” You heard a woman’s voice through the sound of your grunting and wailing. The voice was strangely calm for the the situation. Whoever spoke didn’t seem very worried at all.

The men around you backed away to get a look at the speaker, and that’s when you saw her. She was tall and blonde with gorgeous brown eyes. She was dressed in a fun leathery red, white and blue suit but her face was all business.

“Or what?” Said one of the men.

She laughed. “Or I’M going to follow you and take all the money out of your stupid little hat every night.”

The men snickered to themselves.

“Okay then.” She said, and began to wave her fingers around at the men. “One, two, three, four… only 12 of you, huh?”

Twelve against one? You didn’t like the odds. You wished she would just go away and save herself. You couldn’t bear to watch someone get ripped apart for your sake.

Luckily, you didn’t have to. As soon as the men charged at her they were gone, blasted away in a violent stream of light.

Where did they go, you thought. They were just here…

When you looked to the woman you saw her staring at her fists which were fizzling and popping with light. Then she looked to you and said “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean for it to get so messy.”

“S’okay,” you whimpered as you wiped away your tears.

She walked towards you and you tried to scoot away. Who knew what she was going to do to you.

“It’s okay, it’s okay! My name is Carol. Carol Danvers.” She said and she held her hand out to you. “I’m here to help you.”

“Um… h-how did you… did you kill them?”

“Them? Oh, yea. Don’t worry. They won’t be missed.” She said, as if everything was completely normal.

“C’mon. Let’s get you home.” She said, grabbing your hand and pulling you to stand. You brushed the dirt off your back and face and began to collect the spilled money back into your hat.

“Um… I don’t have a home. I kind of live on the streets.” You said, still tearing up.

Carol furrowed her eyebrows and puckered her lips in thought.

You felt panicky. “Please don’t call the authorities. I’m begging you. I’m fine. Really.”

Her puckered lips stretched into a smile. She leaned in real close and whispered “I’m no tattletale.”

You smiled back at her, relieved to know she was on your side.

“But,” she began, “you still need a place to stay. C’mon. You’re with me tonight.”

You didn’t budge. There was no way some crazy superhero lady with lightning fists was gonna take you home tonight. Not if you had anything to say about it.

“You’re very nice. But I don’t- AHH!”

Carol was taken back by your sudden scream. That was when she noticed the intense bruises already forming on your ankle. To your surprise, she smirked at you.

“Well… I guess you don’t need any help with that ankle then.” She said and began to walk away.

You had to admit, you couldn’t afford to pay for the injury to your ankle. Maybe she had a point.

“Wait! I change my mind. Please, help me.”

She turned back to you, smiled and said “you got it. You’ll love it at my place. No rules, free stuff and- oh I hope you’re not allergic to cats.”

Ah okay this is absolute shit I’m so sorry. ☹️🖤 I couldn’t get in the groove with this one. If you don’t like it please request again.

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

-----

-----

RETURN OF THE SPACE COWBOY: PART SIX

-----

To any other person, today might seem like a perfect winter day.  There was but a light blanket of snow covering the streets and buildings in Akihabara, and even the normally noisy city ambiance was restrained in its intensity.

But all Arashi could focus on was that snide smirk on the face of the young man across from him.

They sat together by the window side in a small cafe, having ordered drinks and little else.  Arashi's remained untouched, but his companion had already taken a few greedy sips.

He was dressed in a nice chalk gray suit, hair slicked back and fingernails trimmed to perfection.  His aftershave reeked like gasoline, and despite all of his nice clothes, one could still see the fanged teeth of his dragon tattoo visible on the bare skin of his collar.

Arashi's eyes remained hidden as always under his sunglasses, and he held back any reaction as the man spoke.  From when he first arrived, he had originally introduced himself as Sho.

"This is a pretty nice neighborhood, you know?  I like it here.  I'd like to raise some kids here some day.  Get me a nice girl and have a nice little family." he remarked, looking on wistfully onto the street as people bustled on by.

Arashi said nothing in response.  Whatever games this man wanted to play, he would be no part of them.

Sho wasn't too fond of that, of course.  "Your sister is a nice girl.  I saw her once at the arcade.  She's really a looker.  She's, what, sixteen now?"

To Sho's surprise, Arashi didn't flinch.  He did, however, answer back.

"I'd like to think you called me here to discuss more than just my sister."

Sho smiled.  More than one of his teeth were clearly fake.  "Well, actually no.  God Symphony sent me to speak to you, that much is true, but Nami is very much the subject of today's discussion."

The man leaned in, clasping his fingers together.  There was something very uncomfortable about the knowing smile on his face.

"We'd like to offer her a job." he said, quite frankly.

"Really now?" Arashi replied, feigning just the slightest bit of interest, if it would end this infernal meeting any sooner.  Arashi had always despised these Yakuza and their underhanded dealings, but for them to be Music Masters as well just made the whole situation all the more unpleasant.

"Don't be so surprised.  I mean, let's face it, there's a lot of untapped potential there.  We could use a Music Master like her for some of the bigger stuff.  Plus, the big boss seems to be a fan of hers.  Says he goes to see her at Shori-Platinum once a month, at least."

Arashi's eyes narrowed under his sunglasses.  He understood the situation perfectly now.

"My sister in your organization?  Out of the question.  I'm sorry, but you've wasted your time."

Despite the sternness in Arashi's tone, Sho was far from finished.  "Oh come on.  The perks are pretty nice.  Good money, and just imagine the respect she'll get from those regular Yakuza who don't even know what we can do.  The job's to die for, I'll tell you."

By this point in time, Arashi was standing up.  He was in the process of counting bills in his pocket to pay for his drink when the man's tone changed from friendly to threatening.

"Did I forget to mention something?  I wanted to be respectful and come to you as a formality.  But if you're going to be like this, then I have no problem letting my men know that they can pick up Nami within the hour."

His snide grin was all too real for Arashi now.  Defensive words seemed stuck in his mind as the man continued.

"The bill's on me.  Sit back down and get comfortable." Sho assured, clearly in the position of power now.

Like a lapdog, Arashi slowly took a seat again.  Even with all the seething rage boiling inside him from this criminal's threats, Arashi's expression never changed in slightest.

"Now we're going to make this very simple." Sho explained, taking a wad of yen bills out of his pocket as he counted out the tab for their drinks.  "You're going to take me to your sister, and you're going to explain to her that God Symphony has offered her a wonderful position that you highly suggest she take.  She'll be going abroad for awhile per her assignment, but you'll see her again."

"And if I don't?" Arashi stated, not a hint of fear present in his tone of voice.

"Then I will personally find her, and I will personally drag her out of that arcade kicking and screaming.  And let me assure you that you won't see her again in this lifetime."

With that, the suit-wearing man put out for a handshake, basking in the power of his threat.

"Are we at an understanding, Nagataki-san?"

Many thoughts went through Arashi's head before he took the man's hand.

One thought surfaced among them as he replied.

"I'll take you to her."

Sho smiled, now clearly satisfied.

Arashi knew that he would have only one chance at this, lest Nami disappear from his life this very night.

-----

It was only a half-mile walk between the cafe and Shori-Platinum, but it felt like an eternity for Arashi.  Meanwhile Sho seemed to be talking with him as if they'd been friends for years.  Every laugh and joke were only made worse by the threat beneath them.  Still, it gave Arashi the time he needed to mentally plan out the situation.  Anything to stop this degenerate and his Ensemble from forcing his sister into their ranks.

They were only two blocks away when Arashi found the secluded alleyway he'd pictured in his mind while they shook his hands at the cafe.  As they passed it, the boy stumbled, pretending as if he dropped something on the ground.

"Excuse me.  Strong drink, I guess." he commented in his best joking tone.

His music player tumbled out of his jacket pocket, and through sleight of hand, Arashi subtly reached for it.  With his headphones already resting around his neck, he could have a song effect up in a few seconds.

His finger was just above the controls when he heard an audible click, and felt cold metal press against the side of his head.

"What, did you think I was born yesterday?  I might be a Music Master, but I haven't forgotten the good old-fashioned way of doing things." Sho declared, as he held his gun steadfast on the now kneeling Arashi.  "Or is this just your way of trying to say that you'd prefer to die in this alley, while your dear sister never finds out what happened to you?"

Arashi said nothing as the moment of tension held him in place.  He felt his own breath, heard each thump of his own heartbeat, but despite it all, he willed himself to remain calm.

Nearby, the sound of a dog barking distracted Sho for but a moment.  He turned his head expecting bystanders, and in that split-second, Arashi reacted.

There was a loud crack as the gun went off, but Arashi had been fast enough to knock Sho's arm aside and avoid the bullet by a hair.  He pushed forward with all his might, slamming Sho into the brick wall of the side street.  Having clicked play on his music player, all Arashi needed to do was hold him down for but a few seconds more.

Arashi felt a punch across his face, and a kick to his stomach, causing him to stagger back.  Sho's snide smile was now gone, replaced with an expression of pure rage as he closed his fists in preparation for a beating.

"Or maybe shooting you is too easy.   Well, I haven't gotten my hands dirty in awhile, so I'll make sure to take my time." he assured the Japanese teen through his teeth, not initially aware of the music now playing in the air.

-----

-----

It was when he tried to take a step forward that he realized something was very wrong.  His arm wouldn't move from the wall, as is someone was physically holding him in place.  Sho tried his legs but they too were stuck, firmly grappled into position.

Arashi stood up, shooting back at Sho a cold stare, as the former Yakuza realized that large, red-fingered hands emerging from the wall itself were what was keeping him still.  They manifested from heart-shaped graffiti now sprayed all over the wall, and their grip was seemed unbreakable no matter how hard Sho struggled.

The music was so inconsequential to Arashi, and he addressed Sho with the same lack of emotion even as Concept of Love played in the air around them.

"I would tell you to inform God Symphony that my sister won't be accepting their offer, but I sense you won't be seeing them again in this lifetime." Arashi told him without mercy, mentally pushing his song effect to finish its deadly task.

Sho could only scream as he felt his entire body being pulled back into the street wall itself.  

There was no blood, as each of his particles seems to de-atomize as they were painfully integrated into the matter of the brick and mortar.  

Sho's hands grasped out weakly as the tiny graffiti-hearts with their red-fingered hands pulled him into the wall as if was the depths of hell.

But a few seconds later, and the wall itself now showed only an extravagant graffiti design of red hearts and arrows.  No sign of Sho remained beyond the silver handgun he'd left behind.

Holding it in right hand, Arashi held the piece of evidence forward.  Like urban gremlins, the red-fingered Sentonals grasped at the silver weapon, deconstructing it into the wall in the same manner as the human before.  

Satisfied now, Arashi stopped his music, and in response, the graffiti design disappeared.  Now all that remained was the blank alley wall that Sho had been standing in front of just moments before.

The transition from having just killed someone to thinking about his sister took but a second.

Nami was probably hungry by now, Arashi thought, from all her dancing at the arcade.

He would make tonight special for her.  A new ramen shop had just opened by Shori-Platinum, and knowing his sister's childhood love for the dish, he had a feeling she would be more than happy to try it out.

She wouldn't leave his side just yet, no matter who God Symphony sent.

-----

Arashi's eyes snapped open.

He remained sitting cross legged among the detritus of Semi-Sound, having been pondering their situation for almost an hour.

The memories of his encounter with Sho over a year ago never became any less real.  

The true reason behind their issues with God Symphony, the fact that their debt to them was Nami herself, was something that still remained with him and him alone to this day.  

And though God Symphony never did make the connection between Arashi and Sho's disappearance, they had only backed off so much from their pursuit of Nami.  With that old man appearing at the arcade so brazenly, Arashi knew it was only a matter of time before they made their move and took her by force if necessary.

And he could never tell Nami a word of this.  It would only cause her to act rashly and take her focus away from the task at hand.

Realizing his mind was wandering too long, Arashi physically shook himself.  Clearly the time for thoughts was over.  He lifted himself up, suddenly feeling somewhat naked without his sunglasses.

He mentally noted to pick up a replacement pair before he tracked down Nami to the nearby arcade.

With so few of them left in this country, it fortunately made it relatively easy to pin her down.

All Arashi could think of now was how he would reconcile with her.  Apologizing had never been his strong point, and right now he needed Nami to be in top form if they would have but a chance at tracking down Rob Prototype.

But as Arashi walked along, his foot nudged a seemingly innocuous instrument nearby.  There was a sound of strings being strummed as they popped against the ground, and Arashi's eyes now focused on the white bass guitar that laid on the floor beside him.

That would have been it, until he saw an unmistakable detail on its pristine white surface.  In the shape of a small thumb print, fresh blood stained the bass guitar's painted surface.

In the span of a few seconds, the entire fight with Rob Prototype and Michael seemed to playback in front of his eyes.  He remembered each movement from the afro-headed teen, and noted his dripping blood originating from both of Nami's previous attacks.  

Though he hadn't seen it, Arashi quickly inferred that even in his weakened state, Rob had attempted to use this very same bass guitar.  And in the chaos, some of Michael's blood had gotten onto him, leaving physical proof of his contact with the instrument.

And physical contact for a Synkronized Music Master meant everything.

But rather than destroy it, Arashi picked up the bass in his hands, marveling at the beauty in its craftsmanship.

Suddenly this guitar had become very important.  

Like some sort of glowing lure to a starving fish, it was something that even the stoic Rob would never be able to resist.

-----

Michael couldn't remember the last time he gotten so little sleep and felt this good.

For almost four hours he'd remained alone inside of the sound studio, practicing with a new song effect that he'd only decided on using out of desperation.

But there had been no fear in him when he'd Harmonized, and luckily it didn't kill him in the process.

When Michael finally emerged at 3 AM, there wasn't a single drop of sweat on his body despite the hours of dancing.  

Expecting to see Colleen waiting with her arms crossed as he entered the living room, Michael kept any grin or smile off his face in an attempt to seem somewhat regretful.  Anything to lessen the blow of having to explain everything.

Instead, Michael was met with the sight of his older sister fast asleep on the loveseat.  She looked peaceful and uncharacteristically relaxed.

Next to her, Rob was breathing normally, now sitting up and awake.

Michael was about to open his mouth and loudly exclaim his relief, when Rob quickly put a finger to his lips.  Thankfully, that was enough for his nephew to remain silent.

Motioning for his nephew to follow him, Rob walked with slow and clearly weak steps towards the soundproof studio.

When they were finally inside, and Rob clicked the door locked behind him, Michael's words seemed to come out all at once.

"Look Rob, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean any of it.  Please, please don't leave again.  Colleen's already going to ki-"

Rob put a hand over his mouth as quickly as he could, though it was a somewhat joking gesture.

"This place is only so soundproof, Michael.  You really want to wake her up already?" he said, before taking his hand away and brandishing a smile.

"Good point." Michael replied, now clearly more relaxed.  "You feeling any better?"

"Still alive, it seems.  You pulled some stunt back there." Rob commented, but Michael seemed steadfast in his defense of himself.

"Hey, if I could bamf my way out of there, I would have.  You're one amazing Music Master."

As Michael smiled, Rob began to stagger.  Grabbing onto his nephew, he found himself sliding down onto the polished wood floor to rest.  Michael knelt down as Rob took in each labored breath before finally speaking.

"Not without my bass.  That guitar...I've had it since before you were born."

Michael searched for any hint of reassurance on his uncle's face, but it was always hard to tell what he was thinking under his wide-brimmed cap.

"It can be replaced, right?  Maybe if we got to Audio Empire, we can fin-"

"No!  It can't be replaced!" Rob said as he cut him off.  "But the next best thing is waiting for me at Semi-Sound.  And the longer I spend away from it, the worse these spells are going to get.  When you're Synkronized, your body craves a musical connection.  If I can just get my hands on that white bass..."

Michael stood up quickly now, realizing the magnitude of the situation for once.  "Are you crazy?  You want to go back to the place where we both almost got killed?  Tell you what, why don't I text Calvin and tell him to go get the bass for you.  He'll answer once he figures out this is an emergency."

"You're the crazy one if you think I'm having any of your friends getting involved in my mistake.  Besides, I still have my cassette player.  I'll be fine." His uncle assured, putting his hand on Michael's shoulder as he began to stand up.

It seemed Rob was perfectly fine for the moment, his posture strong and confident.  Unfortunately, it only took a few seconds for his legs to begin to buckle and Michael was holding him up for support.

"This is all my fault, Michael." Rob admitted as the weight of the situation dawned upon him.  "It's my problem, and I need you here, so Colleen at least doesn't completely freak when she wakes up."

But his words just bounced off Michael.  His nephew looked back at him with confidence in his eyes.

"I haven't seen you for ten years, Rob.  You really think that I'm going to let you walk to your death, just like that?  I know everybody thinks I'm dumb, but I'm not that dumb."

Rob said nothing in response.  He had forgotten in all these years what it was like to have people by his side like this.  Faces like Seth and Lex felt like they belonged in another lifetime.

"You need backup, and you know it.  So either we go together, or I go by myself." Michael declared as his ultimatum, though he was only somewhat sure Rob had no way of stopping him in this state.

If Rob was debating this decision, then Michael sure couldn't tell.  

"I've been practicing all night with a new song.  I think I can take that girl now." the boy added.

Rob simply adjusted his cap as he forced himself to stand up straight.

"Then we should head out now.  It's our best bet at avoiding them." Rob suggested, much to Michael's happiness.  He grinned wide as he opened the door to the studio.

Michael was smart enough to whisper as they quietly checked for Colleen.  Thankfully, she was still fast asleep as before.

Words seemed to just roll out of Michael's mouth as they left through the lobby of Rob's building.  Talking had always been his stress reliever, and this situation was no different.

"Just wait until you see this new song.  Those two won't even see it coming."

Rob nodded as he allowed his nephew to continue, ignoring the pain of keeping his movements as consistent as possible.

"That girl was all talk anyway.  I mean, I didn't actually fight her now that I think about it, but really, just how bad can she be?"

-----

Nami shook her head as the competition walked away.  She could feel frustration building even more inside her even as she stared at her perfect score.  Her former opponent, meanwhile, hadn't even come close to an eighth of her points, and they weren't even playing on Heavy difficulty.  Worse yet, they didn't even look the least bit affected by their loss.  

This so-called St. Marks Place Arcade had turned out to be a nest of clowns.  In addition to the fakes that called themselves players, there were no people to cheer her on, nor were there any adoring fans to ask her for dance lessons or signatures on their body pillows.

As Nami sat down at a booth nearby, she buried her face in her arms.  Their poor excuse for ramen remained untouched once she'd taken the first sip.

All in all, this had been the worst day ever in quite some time.  As she looked up, she found herself actually missing her annoying spectators and fans.  She missed Japan, she missed the lights and sounds of Shori-Platinum, and she even missed her ungrateful brother.

But most of all, she missed winning.  To lose against Rob Prototype was a personal affront, and even here against these losers, victory felt beyond meaningless.

Nami hid her face back into her arms, silently praying that they had never taken this job in the first place.

An answer to her prayer came from across the table, from a voice she knew better than anyone else's.

"All is not yet lost." Arashi said in Japanese.

She looked up, narrowing her eyes angrily.  Her brother sat in front of her, arms laid out in front of him and a shiny new pair of black sunglasses on his face.

"I'm sorry, Nami.  I should have started with that." he admitted with his best apologetic tone.  It took a few seconds, but the frown on her face shifted to a smirk.

"Eh, I was getting bored of beating everyone here anyway.  So did you take out Prototype-san all by yourself?" she joked, as she chuckled through the gap in her teeth.

"Of course not." Arashi replied, his tone shifting back to be more serious.  "But I need you back at the store with me.  I sense he'll be back sooner than we think."

Nami was looking off into space now, joy beginning to rise in her chest as she began to fathom the thought that they might not have lost just yet.  "How can you be so sure he'll be back?"

In response, Arashi picked up the white bass guitar from underneath the table.  Nami's eyes widened as she noticed the spot of blood upon it, but she quickly grinned with satisfaction once the dots connected in her mind.

"This should be proof enough.  I have a plan, Nami.  And it accounts for his nephew, if he shows his face as well.  I'm going to need you to keep him busy so I can handle Rob uninterrupted."

At the sound of her brother's words, Nami was now truly listening.

She leaned in close as she made a joyfully devious declaration in response.

"Keep Afro-kun busy?  Oh Nii-san, I'll do a lot more than that..."

Fast forward to the next track...