#kakuta masami

[merryfortune]

the pen is mightier than the sword but not mightier than a crush

Written for Femslash February 2023

Prompt: Gift

Title: the pen is mightier than the sword but not mightier than a crush

Ship: Masami/Yuriko

Fandom: Tropical Rouge Pretty Cure

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,342

Tags: Crushes

   Masami frowned at the piece of paper that she was writing on. Up until this moment, her penmanship had been neat and clean, the ink flowing freely and correctly. Her lessons in calligraphy even paying off, if she may boast regarding the quality of her writing and now!

   It was all ruined.

   The measured sophistication of the print-out form, written on exclusively by Masami with her perfectly print writing, it all petered out to one single point which was now just a scrawl. A dint in the page with no ink to fill it. It was hideous. Ugly. Absolutely appalling.

   All because her pen had betrayed her.

   Thinking quickly, Masami was able to find a piece of scrap paper and was hopeful that there was some last, black ink in the pen she could scrounge out. She drew countless circles and spirals, messy and uneven and frantic as Masami tried her best to resurrect the last good will but no. It was all carved up with not even a streak of ink to prove she had tried to write at all. 

   Disappointed, Masami stared at her trusty and loyal pen. It had an opaque, plastic casing and a black cap that it wore oh so proudly. It had been with her through thick and thin, difficult assignments, practice writing, and even her journaling so it was almost bittersweet to have to say goodbye.

   Yes, this particular pen had served her very well up until this point. 

   She had begun using it when her last pen wore out on her and that was several months ago now. Masami sighed. There was no use crying over spilt milk and it was, all in all, just a cheap pen that had come out of a pack of ten or so. She should still have the rest in the plastic casing they had come in.

   She leaned over to the side so she could rummage through her bag. She tried to do so as quickly, quietly, and cleanly as possible but rummage was a good word for it as tick by tick, up went Masami’s alarm and frustration as she tore through the contents of her bag. Inside and out.

   She couldn’t find the rest of her pens and she began to retrace her steps.

   That’s right, she bought the case of pens at the beginning of the school year. She had given away at least two to some miscreants who didn’t bring their pencil case to school and had lost one in earnest, left one behind at a bus stop and these offhand memories kept piling up to the very last one. A recollection of just last week when she had tossed out the very plastic casing that she bought the pens in because it was now, officially, empty.

   And Masami had not thought to replace or buy new pens because her current one was still working fine.

   Gosh, what a fool she was!

   Masami began to blush. She was the responsible one in her classroom, always having the back-up pens and pencils and erasers, the sharpest pencil sharpeners and polished scissors and pretty stationary. It was utterly mortifying to be in this situation at all and just look at the time. The school shop would be closed at this hour.

   “Kakuta,” President Shiratori piped up, cutting into Masami’s aggravated reverie, “is something the matter?”

   “Yes, um, it appears my pen has run out of ink and I do not have a pen to replace it.” Masami confessed. No using lying or beating around the bush, even if Masami felt that her entire reputation was at risk at this faux pas.

   Or maybe, she was just making mountains out of molehills.

   Calmly, coolly, President Shiratori curled a strand of her hair behind her ear and then reached over to her own bag. She found her pencil case quietly, neatly, cleanly, quickly and Masami felt her stomach knot. She had made so much noise and disruption just moments before, why couldn’t she be more like the president?

   “Here you go.” President Shiratori said and she gracefully extended her hand to Masami, across their matching desks and offered Masami a pen.

   Not just any pen but the prettiest, most professional and mature looking pen that Masami had ever laid eyes on. It was exactly like President Shiratori Yuriko was. It was dark and it was elegant; a charcoal grey casing with white lettering on the side to depict what brand it belonged to and Masami recognised the name. That was the name of a high end office company which was known for their luxury goods and that extended all the way down to their stationary.

   Masami felt her heart leap to her throat, “I can’t accept something like this.”

   “Why not?” President Shiratori asked, clearly not thinking much of giving away such a premium pen to someone as humble as Masami. “You need a pen, I have a spare pen. I promise it's new, never been used. You can keep it, I really don’t mind.”

   “I-If you insist.” Masami stuttered out.

   Her hand was practically shaking as she accepted President Shiratori’s gift. Their fingers brushed messily as Masami struggled to take the pen and it was all water off a duck’s back for President Shiratori.

   “Now continue your work, you were making great progress through those applications.” President Shiratori praised her.

   “Thank you, I shall do just that.” Masami eagerly replied, smiling big, tail all but wagging. 

   “Good.” President Shiratori said and then got back to her own work.

   Masami put her head down and continued to fill in all the gaps in this application. The pen was a little heavier than her previous one but it wrote so cleanly, so smoothly, that it was an absolute pleasure to write with. It honestly felt like a waste to use it on schoolwork but Masami got through everything that she needed by the time of the final bell.

   “Here is your pen back.” Masami said.

   “I told you that you could keep it?” President Shiratori blinked, puzzled.

   “I know but. I just thought.” Masami stammered.

   “Kakuta, just keep it.” President Shiratori insisted once more.

   “Yes, of course, thank you for your generosity.” Masami replied.

   She held onto the pen tightly. She enjoyed how smooth it felt against the palm of her hand. She nodded and parted ways with President Shiratori later at the schoolgate. She went one way and Masami in the other.

   She held onto that pen all the way home. She didn’t want to lose it but nor did she want to let it go, even so briefly as to put it in her pencil case. This was, after all, a very special pen. Too good for homework, Masami was very quick to decide as she finally got home and to her bedroom, sitting down at her desk which her journal laid atop the desk with her at-home work supplies, like her homework.

   Now, her journal was not a diary. Ignore that it was pink and fuzzy and had diary written on it. It was a journal because journal was a more respectable word than diary, unfortunately her Dad who had gotten it for her birthday did not know that. But now, she finally had a very respectable pen to go with it.

   Now her pen was not respectable because it was a brand item and a luxury with incredible ink quality and a charcoal black casing. Though, that did help. It was, however, a very respectable pen for Masami to use, from here on out exclusively in her private writing because it, too, like her journal, was a gift from someone precious to her: her crush.

   Masami sat down and she opened her journal. She dated a fresh page with today’s date and she made all but a symphony as she wrote out the very exciting news of what her crush, President Shiratori Yuriko, had given her today. Not just wisdom and role modelling for her future stint as president but a very beloved pen.

[numberonepeacock]

Tropical-Rouge! Pretty Cure Characters as Mobians

🌊🌴💄🤍☀️💜🪸💛🥭❤️🦩💙🧜‍♀️🦭

Cures:

Manatsu Natsuumi/Cure Summer - Auburn Labrador Retriever/Blonde Labrador Retriever

Sango Suzumura/Cure Coral - Dark Purple Fennec Fox/Light Purple Fennec Fox

Minori Ichinose/Cure Papaya - Dark Yellow Goat/Orange Goat

Asuka Takizawa/Cure Flamingo - Rust Red Ocelot/Bright Crimson Ocelot

Laura/Cure La Mer - Bright Pink Merhog (Grand Ocean)/Bright Pink Hedgehog (Mobius)/Sky Blue (with a Pink Ombré) Hedgehog (Cure)

Laura is from the land of mermaids known as Grand Ocean

Faires:

Kururun - Seal Cure Flicky

Kururun is a sea fairy from Grand Ocean

They are the current Mermaid Queen and Laura's pet

Magical Allies:

Mermaid Queen - Turquoise Merhog

The Queen of the Grand Ocean.

She gives Laura the Tropical Pacts and tells her to find the Pretty Cures to fight the Witch of Delays.

Aunete/Cure Oasis - Sandy Blonde Turtle/Bright Yellow Turtle

Is a legendary Pretty Cure of the past.

Villians:

Witch of Delays - Black Water Dragon

A witch who lacks motivation.

Butler - Dark Yellow Seahorse

He is the Witch of Delays' butler.

Chongire - Blue Hermit Crab

He works as the Witch of Delays' chef.

Numeri - Light Purple MerEchidna (has a Sea Cumber tail)

She works as the Witch of Delays' doctor.

Elda - MerFox (has a Shrimp tail)

She works as the Witch of Delays' maid.

Family:

Taiyo Natsuumi - Brown Labrador Retriever

Manatsu's father.

Aoi Natsuumi - Auburn Labrador Retriever

Manatsu's mother.

She works at the Aozora City aquarium.

Miyuki Suzumura - Fennec Fox

Sango's mother.

She works at Pretty Holic.

Narumi Ichinose - Dark Yellow Goat

Minori's mother.

Haruya Takizawa - Dark Maroon Groundhog

Asuka's father.

He is well-known as the Blazing Good Weather Man, being a passionate drummer who is determined to perform a ritual that will clear the sky from bad weathers.

Supporting People:

Yuriko Shiratori - Dark Blue Clouded Leopard

She's a third-year student and the student council president of Aozora Middle School.

Masami Kakuta - Brown Albatross

She is the president of the Disciplinary Committee and is very strict about following the rules.

Saki Sakuragawa - Manta Ray

She is Manatsu, Laura, and Sango's homeroom teacher.

Kiriko Shiraishi - Dull Magenta Hyena

One of Manatsu's classmates.

Is best friends with Naomi and Yumi and three girls are seen together a lot.

Naomi Komachi - Brown Seal

One of Manatsu's classmates.

Is best friends with Yumi and Kiriko and three girls are seen together a lot.

Yumi Kuwano - Black Ermine

One of Manatsu's classmates.

Is best friends with Kiriko and Naomi and three girls are seen together a lot.

Mafune Hirabayashi - Dugong

Is the director of the Aozora City aquarium.

——————————————————————————————————

Previously: 🌿🐶 | Next: 🍀🐱

Masterpost of AU: Jewel Sonicure AU Masterpost

[lock-my-heart]

Kururun really left the Aqua Pot to mess with Masami.

Kururun doesn't even need to do anything else this season, he became the best fairy mascot just by doing that. Kururun wants to create chaos and that is very respectable of him

[gotojobin]

#Toriko #トリコ #GourmetHunter #グルメハンター #WeeklyShōnenJump #刊少年ジャンプ #ShūkanShōnenJanpu #WEEKLYJUMP #KingDevinJoseph #キングデビンジョセフ #おたく #Otaku #オタク #GotoJobin #後藤Jobin #デヴィンジョセフ王 #Weeb #WeebDar #王デヴィンジョセフ 1. Episode 28 "Iceberg-Shaking Flame" The identity of the masked man! 』 2011/10/16 Broadcast　 Writer: Yoichi Takahashi Director: Sumita, Masami Sugai Art: Masanobu Nomura Trico sought to get deeper into the iceberg in search of century soup. On the way, it was attacked by the white silver grizzly, but Trico decided to capture this by the margin, and to take the meal break by being cooked in Komatsu. The child of the wall penguin which has escaped from parents appears there, and it becomes Komatsu. In the relaxed air, the match enters the tent and rests first. Komatsu, who suddenly wondered why the match wanted soup, asked the match's men to take the plunge. The men began to talk about the current state of nerg where they live and their encounter with the match. 2. Episode 28 “The iceberg shakes detonation! The identity of the masked man " 2011/10/16 broadcast Screenplay: Yoichi TakahashiDirector: Kakuta Kuroda Drawing: Katsumi Sogai Art: Masanobu Nomura Toriko who go deep in the iceberg in search of Century soup. On the way, they were attacked by white silver grizzly, but Toriko captured it in time and was cooked by Komatsu and decided to take a meal break with everyone. A wall penguin kid separated from her parents appears there and hangs on Komatsu. In a relaxed atmosphere, the match enters the tent and rests first. Suddenly, Komatsu wonders why the match wants a soup, and they try to listen to the match's subordinates. The subordinates began to talk about the current state of Nerg where they live and the encounter with the match ... https://www.instagram.com/p/B0w6t8yHcqYycQBt5A0tb0lv7VBWR86PPJ-9d00/?igshid=zo17exuv7qah

[merryfortune]

Strange and Torrid Feelings

Written for Launch The Ship | @launchtheship

Title: Strange and Torrid Feelings

Ship: Masami/Yuriko

Fandom: Tropical Rouge Pretty Cure

Word Count: 1,566

Rating: T

Tags: Crushes

   Yuriko was very pretty. And she didn’t even need to flout the guidelines regarding makeup inside of the school’s handbook to achieve this. That impressed Masami somewhat but she didn’t know exactly what to make of it or how her heart fluttered when she mused just a touch too long on Yuriko’s outer appearance.

   Her eyes were daring and sharp, framed by long, clean lashes. Her pupils were clear but slitted, giving her an almost birdlike look, fitting of her name. Her skin was pale, flawless, born that way, Masami would think, not borne of overly harsh products. Her hair was shiny. Her uniform was perpetually neat and never wrinkled. 

   Being of firm mind and firm face, Masami prioritised heart and ethics over superficial values such as what a person looked like. She cared about how they acted, how they carried themselves, how they treated other people. To Masami, these were the core foundations of her values and her worldview. 

   She liked facts, she liked it when things were simple. Things around Yuriko were most certainly not simple. But at least the rumours had been chased away. She could take some cold comfort in that but there was clearly more going on in this school and as the leader of the disciplinary committee, it was Masami’s duty to get to the bottom of this.

   Probing the very odd and highly unusual Tropical Club was just the start but possibly, if she had deft and grace, things she worried she did not have, then maybe Yuriko might gift her with a bit more information. Surely such sharp - and even beautiful - eyes such as hers noticed something that Masami did not in her black and white vision.

   “Why would you bring up such old news?” Yuriko sighed. Irate. 

   “Apologies, I did not realise it was such a sore point.” Masami replied.

   The afternoon was quiet. Another search of the Tropical Club had proven fruitless. Whatever their eccentricity, it was eccentricity within the bounds of acceptable behaviour. Unbelievably. Honestly, their diverse and varied extracurricular studies, and their commitment to them and their lesson plans, actually ought to be admired but there was just something so… fishy about them! Masami couldn’t pinpoint it.

   But Asuka had let slip something as she, in her presidential right to dislike questions and unfairness, chased Masami off and cursed Yuriko for it. That touched a nerve, Masami sensed so, she thought she would ask Yuriko for her side of it or the reason why. Masami regretted that now as she had a bandaid on her nose for it now, at least metaphorically.

   Masami stole another look at Yuriko. How she gritted her teeth and how her eyes gaze was distant. Following her line of sight, Masami noticed that Yuriko’s gaze was now out towards the sporting fields on the school grounds. Fond but bittersweet. She looked as though she were mulling something over. Something that, if Masami had to guess, was named Asuka.

   She felt her stomach twist and knot. She disliked thinking about Yuriko thinking about Asuka but again. She couldn’t pinpoint or place why. So, she stewed in that discomfort, holding the hem of her skirt as she waited for either her brain to provide something useful to say - or for Yuriko to break the silence.

   Thankfully, she did, sighing again, “It's old news and it would be untoward of me to say that I couldn’t have behaved better in that situation. A good person displays self-awareness and thus, it would be remiss if I said I didn’t acknowledge that I was wrong to do so little but Asuka was wrong to do so much. As you would know, there are more well-written ways to behave in conflict but alas, real life isn’t always so scripted.”

   Her words were wise and Masami soaked them in. Her heart fluttered. She hung onto every word of Yuriko’s as though there were an extract from a holy book. Yuriko noticed. She smiled.

   “I think you would have done the best you could.” Masami stammered. She unintentionally stamped her foot to emphasise. The rhythm of it knocked her own heart good. Or maybe worse. That flutter seemed quicker now - and harder, like a throb. A good and proper throb.

   “I appreciate the sentiment, Kakuta.” Yuriko diplomatically replied.

   Her insincerity of the statement wounded Masami. Especially because she meant it so genuinely, from every fathom of her heart and soul. She knew what President Shiratori was like and thus, had not even the sliver of a shadow of doubt that Yuriko would flounder some problem from years ago. Masami swallowed.

   “You're welcome.” Masami murmured.

   “You're very sweet, Masami, I can assure you that but not yet.” Yuriko replied. Her voice was soft, silky, sensual. 

   She reached out and Masami flinched. She didn’t know why she flinched, nor why her eyes were watering. Yuriko was gentle as she tucked a strand of Masami’s hair behind her ear. It was pink. 

   “Very sweet, very cute.” Yuriko teased her.

   “Am not!” Masami denied. “I-I’m not cute. Someone like me is not cute.” 

   Yuriko giggled at Masami’s defence. That only made her prickle more, embarrassed her more. Her face burned red.

   “I think you're very cute, Masami, I wouldn’t lie to you. I hope you see that one day.” Yuriko replied.

   “I-I’ll work on it.” Masami earnestly replied. 

   She was flustered to be called her given name over her family name, it sounded so much more beautiful when it came from Yuriko’s lips. Her beautiful lips, painted only in a protective balm, likely not even flavoured. Masami was quick to scold herself for making such assumptions but again. Yuriko did not flout rules. She valued them deeply, just like her.

   Unable to say much more, there was still enough in what Masami had given in response. That notion glistened in Yuriko’s yellow eyes. Masami just sat there, gawking, causing a horrid and awkward tension. For her at least, she couldn’t quite tell what Yuriko was thinking as a thick sensation became a welt in Masami’s throat. Tightening it. Her stomach then twisted again. Just to make her feel worse, Masami was sure.  

   But, more pleasantly, the feeling of Yuriko’s long, slender fingers in her hair remained as well. 

   “I - I have squandered your time long enough, I think,” Masami said and she got up from the table they had been sharing, she was all a mess, flustered and off-kilt, “I better go.”

   “A shame, I do enjoy your company, Kakuta.” Yuriko lamented but she let Masami go.

   Masami stormed off. Her heart pounded, her cheeks still red hot. When she left the council’s room, it was like a weight off her shoulders and she breathed in the fresh air of the corridor. That twisting feeling was in her stomach. It all compounded on top of Yuriko’s final address unto herr as well; a return to her family name over her given name. It felt like salt rubbed into a wound - one that Masami didn’t even know she had. 

   She didn’t understand it. Any of it. She felt more confused than before she started poking her nose in places that it clearly didn’t belong.

   Masami squeezed her eyes shut. All she could think about was how Yuriko had touched her, just slightly, and how such a simple gesture was able to cause her to quake like this. Yuriko’s words, they were as wise as they were humble and amplified all of what Masami was trying to distract from as they caused a storm. Not calm like her demeanour would insinuate, they spurred such deep and wild things, like a racing heartbeat and sweaty palms and Masami just didn’t understand. 

   She felt… Excluded, truth be told. She tried to tamp down on all these awful, welling up feelings and tried to focus on the facts. There was a rumour about a mermaid and then a strange girl showed up. The Tropical Club acted strangely and the aforementioned strange girl quickly became a member of said club. Making it even stranger in Masami’s mind. Asuka is a member of the Tropical Club. She has a torrid history with Yuriko. And Yuriko… makes her feel strange. And torrid. 

   It all pent up and clumped inside of Masami’s chest. She just couldn’t work it out. The mystery which was swirling around her, evading her at every investigative look. She was missing facts, she was missing vital pieces in the very framework in which she looked at the world through and it infuriated her. To not know, to not feel like she deserved to know, even.

   A single, hot tear dribbled down the side of her face as Masami listened to her heart pound in her ears. She felt sick to her stomach, a funny sort of sickness which was more mental than physical yet stirred her up so awful. Just who was the new girl and was she connected to that absurd rumour about there being a mermaid at school? What was the incident which had caused such bad blood between Asuka and Yuriko? 

   And… And what was it about Yuriko which made her own, internal world go so topsy-turvy, so strange and torrid? Argh! Why couldn’t things be as easy as reading and executing a rulebook? Printed nice and simple in black and white. 

   Masami needed answers. Answers, she realised, she wasn’t going to get.

[merryfortune]

Remember (the Burden & the Blessing)

Written for the 100ships Challenge

Prompt: #24 Ember 

Title: Remember (the Burden & the Blessing)

Ship: N/A | Asuka/Takeru

Fandom: Tropical Rouge Pretty Cure & Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Word Count: 5,405

Rating: T

Tags: Not Canon Compliant, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Childhood Friends, Developing Relationship, Pre-Relationship, Rivalry, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Mutual Attraction, Past/Referenced Character Death, Canonical Character Death

   “Hey, do you want to go on a trip?” her Dad asked.

   Asuka looked up from her video game console, “Depends,” she shrugged, “where to?”

    “To that little town north of her. Do you remember Homura? You know, my friend with the old man whose got a judo hall. Do you still remember going there as a kid?” her Dad asked in reply.

   “Yeah, I remember.” Asuka replied and she sighed. “And, yeah, sure, sounds a bit different than just hanging out here all day.” As that had become her summer holiday routine, not that she minded but it was getting a bit monotonous.

   “Good, then get your shoes and socks ready, we’ll leave in five.” her Dad said.

   “Oh, uh, okay.” Asuka said and she began to scramble.

   Not that she expected her Dad to be ready in five minutes, just because he said so but just in case. She wasn’t expecting that fire in the belly so quickly, either, but it was an hour and a half drive so they were burning daylight. So, Asuka got ready lickety-split with her phone and wireless earbuds, and naturally she was ready before her Dad. Just like she thought would happen but eventually, he got into the driver’s seat and put his keys into the ignition.

   Asuka sat in the front passenger seat, content to look out the window but she kept stealing glances at her Dad. At first, she wondered why he wanted to go on this trip all of a sudden. Then when one of her sad teenage angst songs came on, about third or fourth down her playlist on shuffle, it dawned on her.

   Oh.

   It was that time of the year. Homura-san’s birthday. 

   No wonder he wanted to go visit Homura-san’s grandparents.

   It would have been about this time ten years ago that Asuka had been first taken to visit the Homura family, she recalled. It was a nice, shiny summer, from what she remembered. There was meant to be a huge get-together for Homura-san’s birthday, with all his friends from high school as well as university, which was where they had met. Asuka remembered that she had been really excited to go. Not only to hopefully learn some judo but because she was told there would at least be two other kids there as well. A boy and a girl.

   What were their names again? Kakuta kept coming to mind for the girl, but Asuka knows she’s getting Kakuta from Masami from the Disciplinary Committee but what about the boy. 

   The Homura boy, her Dad’s friend’s son. That boy. Asuka felt embarrassed but she couldn’t remember, just that he had sort of whitish-coloured hair, maybe, and she couldn’t begin to guess what colour his eyes were. Oh, and the girl whose name was not Kakuta, she liked to tease him by calling him “teddy” or “teddy-boy”, Asuka remembered that but it didn’t help much as she fumbled their names.

   She had fun though. Lots of it, from what she remembered. She got to learn some judo and they drank soft drinks all day and ate chips and chocolate. It wasn’t a memory that Asuka reflected on often. To her child self, for the most part, it was another big dumb adult party and the ride there was way too long but it was one she looked on fondly.

   Now she just felt bad that she couldn’t remember that boy’s name. Especially considering… what happened next. 

   That phone call was really confusing. It would have been around autumn? Maybe early winter. It was all muddled in Asuka’s mind because the gravity of it escaped her as a six year old. Everything that followed had just been so confusing. Sad and confusing.

   The boy whose name escaped her, he had gone missing. Her parents had dropped everything to help find him, take out searches and ring around, try to get word out. All whilst Asuka was with her grandparents at home, just watching anime and the news but the news never showed a reel of a boy her age who had gone missing.

   Then, closer to spring, the news got worse. Her Dad’s friend, and his wife, had gone missing. Presumed dead. Difficult to say. Everyone wanted to hope that they would be found. Especially because their son was recovered from… somewhere. Something. 

   Asuka hadn’t been allowed to go to the funeral for Homura-san and his wife. She stayed at home with her grandmother. She just felt weird about it. The boy she had met once after all and his dead and missing parents. It didn’t really concern her but now, as a sixteen year old, she kind of wished she could have known more. Done more. But she had been six. A kindergartener. It really wasn’t her place.

   It definitely would not be her place either to bring it up - but she suspected it was half the reason that she and her Dad were on their way to their place.

   “We’re here.” her Dad piped up as the car stalled as he put it into park.

   “Oh, um, yeah.” Asuka blinked.

   She felt jostled by the car jerking to its halt and then looking around. Her reveries  dissipated, dispersed like embers before turning into nothing and already, she had forgotten most of her melancholy and adolescent angst and attempts at empathy.

   “Let’s go in, yeah?” her Dad prompted her.

   “Yeah.” Asuka mumbled, her voice thick from not talking for so long.

   They got out of the car and Asuka slipped her phone into her back pocket. She looked around and gosh, she had forgotten just how beautiful the countryside was. The Homura Estate especially. That brush of recollection that the place was an old samurai style mansion with a princess and whatnot, it all came back to her as she soaked in the pretty greenery, the white pebbles underfoot that wound through black soil to the wooden, sliding front door.

   Asuka smiled politely as she found herself trying to step properly on the pathwork. She trailed along behind her Dad as he knocked on the doorframe. The papery lining of it wobbled with the reverberations.

   “Hey, it’s me, Takizawa… I hope you don’t mind.” he called out.

   They waited a moment, feeling the warm sun on their backs and then there were footsteps. Adolescent, teenage boy type footsteps - the type that Asuka knew well, even if they weren’t as stodgy and heavy-footed as her older brother’s. They instead sounded gawky and klutzy and way too excited to answer the door. It slid open and behind it, was a huge smile on a boy who was about her height, maybe a touch taller with whitish coloured hair, and glasses.

   “Good to see you again, Takizawa-san.” he answered the door cheerfully, taking Asuka aback by the absolute golden retriever energy he was radiating. He then leaned around to address her as well, “It is good to see you again as well, Asuka.”

   “Y-Yeah, hi. Good to see you again.” Asuka replied, omitting the impulse to say, “boy whose name I can’t remember,” at the end of it.

   She had it all in her head that this meet and greet was going to be all doom and gloom. Maybe not. She smiled an awkward smile as she, and her father, were let inside. The fact that she didn’t recall his name was really starting to wallow in her mind as she was led down the dark, walnut-coloured hallways and into the parlour? Living room? It had a television so it was probably a living room.

   Asuka sat cross-legged in the centre of it, though, at the low coffee table. Her Dad sat opposite her and Homura across from her. Meanwhile, just through the next hallway over, Asuka caught glimpses of his grandparents, his grandmother was arranging snacks and tea whilst his grandfather was coming forward to greet the guests in the interim.

   “It is good to see you again, Haruya,” Grandfather Homura said as he, with aches and pains undoubtedly in his bones, sat down, his grandson assisting him, and he turned his sharp eyes then onto Asuka, she felt studied by his gaze, “and I appreciate the visit from you, too, Asuka.”

   “Thank you for having us.” Asuka replied. “Sir.”

   Grandfather Homura laughed with a sardonic mirth to his tone and expression. He smiled, a glint of yellowy-white from his teeth and then glanced at his grandson. He just sat prettily, bouncy.

   “You weren’t expecting me to remember your name, correct?” Grandfather Homura guessed as he returned his gaze to Asuka.

   She laughed awkwardly, “Yes…”

   “Young folk. All the same. Takeru was asking me earlier what Haruya’s daughter’s name was as well.” Grandfather Homura said.

   “Guilty as charged.” he said, embarassed with a half-chortle.

   “I guess we are.” Asuka shrugged, trying to agree but feeling oddly insulted somehow.

   She stole another glance at him. Takeru. That was his name! It was totally on the tip of her tongue. Knowing it for real though, that felt good. Weirdly assuring. And just in time, in came Grandmother Homura with a tray of goodies.

   “Whoa, these look so good.” Asuka complimented the homemade rice cakes as they were set down on the coffee tray.

   “Eat up, dear, I’m sure you're hungry after your trip, thank you, both, you as well, Haruya, for coming out on our son’s birthday. We really appreciate it.” Grandmother Homura said.

   “It's our pleasure, it must be hard, not knowing the truth after all this time, especially after what happened to Takeru,” Asuka’s Dad said, and though she didn’t mean to, her eyes wandered to Takeru who squirmed where he sat at the mention of his name, and his trauma, Asuka presumed, “I’ve been thinking about Kazuo. And my own mortality, I will admit, since he and Nozomi were just so young.... I just wanted to check in with you three, especially as it will be their eleventh anniversary later this year, correct?”

   “Yeah… I was six when it happened. It feels like the last ten years have gone by so slowly and yet, insane how quick the last six have gone.” Takeru solemnly replied. “I-I hope Dad, wherever he is, is having a good birthday, whilst we celebrate him here.”

   “Cheers. To that.” Asuka’s Dad agreed.

   He picked up a teacup full of green tea and managed to get the others to cheer with him. The ceramic cups all clinked together and when Asuka pulled back, she noticed she had a stray strand of matcha upright in her cup. She didn’t want to mention it, though, a happy omen after such a sad admission from Takeru, it didn’t feel right. Nor did picking up a rice cake even though she was hungry.

   But the conversation managed to pick up. With two teenagers in the room, there was plenty to talk about. School, grades, embarrassing moments. And, of course, there was reminiscence on Takeru’s parents, particularly his father as it was his birthday, after all.

   Once the conversation got rolling along some more, Asuka was able to eat more freely. Even chat more freely. She felt like she was getting along really well with Takeru. Making friends as kids was just so much easier. Just go up to one another and declare best friend status on that second and bam. Instant friends. Redoing that as teenagers, way more tricky but they were managing.

   So much so that Grandfather Homura had a suggestion to make towards the end of the first hour or so of her and her father being here, “Asuka, do you still enjoy sports?” he asked.

   “Yes, very much so, I have a scholarship because of my tennis playing and would like to go pro one day.” she replied enthusiastically.

   “Congratulations, and good luck on your aspirations.” Grandmother Homura said.

   “Thank you.” Asuka replied warmly, with a slight bow of her head.

   “Takeru has a sports-related career goal in mind as well,” she added, “don’t you, dear? We’re very proud.”

   Takeru blushed, “Yeah, I wanna take over Pops as the head of the judo centre. Do the paperwork and the teaching and stuff. I’ve been learning the ropes but I have to graduate not only high school first but uni, too.”

   “Sounds good. I’d like to go to university as well.” Asuka said. “It's very sweet that you want to take over the family business.”

   “Don’t worry, Asuka, if your tennis career fails, I can get you a job at the company.” her Dad said, rather proudly.

   “Aw, gee, thanks, Dad.” Asuka sarcastically replied.

   “You two should go and run some laps or something then.” Grandfather Homura said. “Burn off some energy and let us talk about things we cannot in your company, if you don’t mind.”

   “If you want, I’d be fine with that.” Takeru shrugged as he turned his head to Asuka.

   “I understand, and I’m always up for a challenge, teddy-boy.” Asuka smirked.

   “You remember that?” Takeru groaned. “You and Kiku, I swear.” He started to get up.

   Asuka began to get up as well and continued the conversation thread, “Somehow, yes, and how is Kiku?” She also knew that Kiku’s name had been on the tip of her tongue earlier.

   “Yeah, yeah, she’s good.” Takeru replied.

   They chatted as they left the living room so it wouldn’t be in mixed company. Takeru showed Asuka to down the road and pointed to where the judo hall was from their doorstep. On the count of three, it was a ready-set-go style sprint and it felt good to race. To get the heart pumping, to feel wind in their hair.

   Takeru won the race, of course. Asuka blamed it on home turf advantage and he didn’t disagree. Neither were puffing and panting by the end of it, as they stood on the edge of the steps as Takeru unlocked the judo hall. They would have it all to themselves, and the lingering, sweaty smell of athletics as well.

   Inside the hall was nice. It was prim and proper, save for the smell, with polished floors and all the decor expected of a traditional style gymnasium. Asuka half-remembered it from when she had done her singular lesson of judo here with Takeru and Kiku as kids and she breathed deep that smell. She couldn’t call herself an athlete if she said she didn’t like it, after all, as musky as it was.

   “Did you ever keep up your judo lessons?” Takeru asked as he closed the door behind them as Asuka peacocked on the main floor.

   “Eh, not really. Would’ve loved to but stuff got in the way, you know?” Asuka replied.

   “Okay, well, I’ll put you through the beginner drills again and then we can have a spar, see if you’ve learned anything.” Takeru suggested.

   “With a teacher like you, I’ll be fine,” Asuka smirked and she began to stretched herself, “besides,” she added, a sharp hint to her voice only she could revel in, “you don’t know who you are messin’ with, teddy-boy.”

   “Same could be said about you.” Takeru replied and there was a fire in his eyes. Bright and excited, like his soul was burning in the lilac-grey of his pupils from behind the glass of his dorky glasses.

   Asuka liked it. It got her excited in a way only rivalry could. But they somehow managed to put aside their trading remarks to get some stretches and practice beforehand. Asuka was a natural, even Takeru had to admit. Sure, she could use some posture fixes here and there but she was taking to it like a bird to water.

   (Again, Takeru had no idea and Asuka enjoyed that immensely).

   When Takeru thought they were both warmed up and that Asuka had a good enough grasp on the basic moves to hopefully employ them in a match. They both stood a respectful distance away from each other and paid their dues, bowed to each other, and then it was like a match had been struck, the flint blistered with sparks and they were both at each other.

   Any pretence of it being judo fell away pretty quickly. It did start that way for a minute, maybe, but then it just turned into a wrestling match. The type neither hadn’t had in a long, long time and now, their bodies were craving the no bars held beat down: as politely as they could. They liked each other, after all.

   As friends, of course.

   Friends who were all too happy to go at each other red hot from the get-go. From zero to one-hundred and beyond.

   Their stances on the floor were sturdy and powerful. They let each other’s rivalrous aggression flow through each other, a magmic energy that they shared as they stamped and stomped, taking blows and giving them out as well. It was all very polite in the way that only judo could be until it began to bend and break.

   It was obvious from how shoulders rolled back and from how eyes glinted that they both wanted more and so began a swift departure from judo to street fighting. Anything went. Fists, feet, it didn’t matter. So long as no one got hurt, not even so much as a black eye.

   “You're pretty good.” Takeru taunted her as his fist narrowly missed Asuka’s face. She all too deftly moved out of the way and was ready to clobber, only to get parried.

   “You ain’t so shabby either.” Asuka countered. 

   They kept going. Left, right, left, right. A marching rhythm that was getting blood pumping and adrenaline reeling. They were both grinning as they got closer and closer, the thrill of the fight, its crescendo and climax imminent until those floorboards below were, perhaps, too squeaky clean.

   Takeru’s socked foot squeaked against the floorboards as Asuka pressured him with non-contact pummeling punches. He was clumsy as he tried to avoid her, more worried about his face than his balance before finally he went down. But not before taking Asuka with him with a very clever swing of his foot, he hooked it on Asuka’s knee and she buckled.

   Asuka warbled all the way down and Takeru landed with a thump. It was messy and honestly embarrassing considering the fight they had kept up that far but it was kind of funny, too. At least until they finally took note of exactly what kind of sprawling mess they had ended up in. Hands pinned to the floor, chest to chest, it was uncomfortably close.

   In the end, Asuka ended up on top of Takeru and both blushed. Their legs were sprawled and yet entangled all the same. Asuka kept herself propped up on top of Takeru and there was definitely pelvic contact - but nothing else. 

   “Uhh… sorry, didn’t mean for that to happen. Usually it's more like “yay! Victory!”.” Asuka said as she scrambled off Takeru and just the mere mention of the word, she struck the pose.

   Takeru laughed, confused, but glad he didn’t need to anything as he watched as Asuka made a fool of herself. She spun on her heel until she had her back to Takeru and then did a jumping jack. She thrust both her hands in the air and said it again, “Victory!”

   “What was that?” Takeru asked through his chuckling.

   “Err, force of habit.” Asuka shyly replied as she turned back around.

   With a flounce, she dropped to the floor again so they could sit together. 

   “Where’d you learn that style?” Takeru asked.

   “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Asuka replied.

   “Try me.” Takeru taunted her, cheeky, his head lifting slightly.

   Asuka took a breath and she realised. She had two options. She could tell the truth or she could lie. She didn’t know if she would be believed or not, or if she would even feel good about lying about what had been the absolute best of times for the most of time. And when she looked at Takeru’s eyes, they were knowing. He had seen some weird things in his time. Of course he had. She had no idea what had happened during those six months that he had been… disappeared for, after all. So, it turned out all too easy to reply.

   “Mermaids.” Asuka said. “I learned to fight because a mermaid gave me a ring and a compact and then I would use that ring and compact and do a little transformation sequence-y thing and then boom. I’m a superhero. A magical girl.”

   “Mermaids… Are real?” Takeru asked.

   “As real as you or I.” Asuka replied.

   “So, are they like creepy mermaids or cutesy Disney mermaids?” Takeru followed up. He looked like he was trying to decide whether to panic or not; his expression was very grave either way.

   Asuka hummed, “No, they’re not scary at all. They’re pretty selfish and stuck up and stubborn, they hate being left out of things and yeah, sure, some of their laws are kinda creepy but with the new Queen, it just proves how much they care a lot about the world around them, for better or worse. So yeah, I’d say cutesy Disney mermaids.” She rambled thinking about Laura and Cure Oasis and her friendship with the once Witch of Delays nee Destruction.

   “Oh, okay, that’s a relief. ‘Cause Kiku’s told me some scary stories about mermaids. Didn’t think they were real.” Takeru replied.

   “You think Mermaids are real?” Asuka asked. “You believe me?”

   “Of course I believe you.” Takeru said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Why would you lie about something so… absorb.”

   “I think you mean absurd.” Asuka said.

   “Ah, oops, yeah I did mean absurd.” Takeru laughed awkwardly.

   “That makes me think you could tell me something absurd as well then.” Asuka said. “So, where did you learn to fight like that?”

   “I’d say you wouldn’t believe me but being a teenage delinquent is much, much more normal than being a teenage, er, uh, mermaid friend?” Takeru fumbled his point.

   “Pretty Cure. Or PreCure. We were Pretty Cures…” Asuka replied. “I was Cure Flamingo.”

   “What a great name. It's feisty.” Takeru said and then under his breath, he added, “I think Flame would agree.”

   “Who’s Flame?” Asuka asked, blinking owlishly.

   Takeru took a breath, “I was a teenage superhero too.” he said but he didn’t sound proud of it. “They called me… I called myself Soulburner.”

   “You sound really sad about that.” Asuka murmured.

   “I… I think I lost a piece of my soul, truth be told. See, Flame… Flame is someone who is really important to me. He’s the reason… He was the reason I…” Takeru became choked up and Asuka panicked.

   She lunged from where she sat so she could be closer to Takeru, she placed her hand on his knee. Her fingers trembling as even though they had just been wrestling a minute ago, touching Takeru felt like she was being too presumptuous of their relationship.

   “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.” Asuka assured him, she looked up at him with wet eyes.

   “No, I want to, I get the feeling you’d get it just as well as anyone.” Takeru said, his voice thick from the sob that he was holding back. “Because you got your power from so someone else, so did I. I worry that I can’t stand on my own two feet without him. See, Flame, he’s what’s called an Ignis.” 

   “An Ignis?” Asuka echoed back to him as she scooted in closer, feeling his warmth.

   Takeru leaned into her, “Do you remember, when I went missing as a kid? Your Dad, I’m told, tried to help my Mum and Dad find me for a bit, yeah?”

   “Yeah.” Asuka replied, mumbling.

   “Argh, I haven’t told anyone about this, not even Kiku…” Takeru grumbled at himself and then took a huge breath. “When I went missing, I was kidnapped and I was forced to duel over and over again. If I didn’t, they’d shock me. If I lost, I’d get shocked again and they wouldn’t give me any food. Not until I won.”

   “Oh my gosh, Takeru, that’s awful.” Asuka replied, she couldn’t believe what Takeru was saying but he was saying it through earnest, gritted teeth. He couldn’t have been more genuine if he tried.

   “And they did it, because they were scientists and they needed a lab rat. One which would teach the Ignis, who are, um, artificial intelligences with free will about the world. From my torture, Flame was born.” Takeru explained.

   Asuka’s expression faltered. Again. It was so entirely awful and unbelievable but there was such love to Takeru’s voice when he talked about this Flame creature. So, Asuka kept her slack mouth shut and Takeru continued.

   “He reached out to me, later, and helped pull me from a depression spiral. I went back to school, I actually met a couple of the other victims of the Incident. Flame was with me through thick and thin but… but in the end, I couldn’t save him. Soulburner couldn’t save him and he’s dead. H-He’s not coming back.” Takeru began to bawl.

   Asuka held onto him and her own thoughts, too. He clearly needed a good cry and Asuka always felt like she was a good shoulder to cry on. This bond that Takeru had with Flame… It was nothing like the one she had with Laura. No way. Not at all, not in the slightest.

   Asuka had been heartbroken by Laura having to leave. She wanted to become Queen and even though the laws of the underwater world were screwed up, she still wanted to follow through with what had been her dream of all time. 

   Not to mention. She came back. And that pain of her losing, it had been so sickeningly soothed by the fact that they had all had their memories erased. It hadn’t mattered, it had felt like a blink of an eye between separation and reunion. If they couldn’t remember, they couldn’t hurt, after all and just look at Takeru. He was so burdened by what he did remember, maybe it was much as a blessing as it was a curse, as much as they had fought for them to be kept. 

   Not to mention. When she did come back, the memories of being a Pretty Cure and spending time with Laura did, too.

   “I’m really sorry, man.” Asuka murmured. “But I’m sure Flame would forgive you, I’m sure he wouldn’t have thought you messed up at all. And… And I wouldn’t be so sure.” Asuka really thought she was overstepping here but she did it anyway. “When Laura left us, we all forgot. Mermaid magic, you know? But she still came back for us, even when she couldn’t remember us either. Who knows? Maybe Flame isn’t as gone as you think he is. And even if he is, the memories of him, well, they’re really important too and they won’t ever leave you.”

   Takeru pulled back and he smiled, “Thanks, Asuka, I’m sorry, that was a lot to put on someone…”

   “It's fine.” Asuka shrugged. “You needed to say it.” She looked over to him and his big, gooey eyes went with the tears that he had shed but he looked so pretty, his smiling shining on despite his damp face. 

   “Tell me more. About Laura.” Takeru said. “If you want.”

   “There’s not much to say. She’s kind of a bitch but we love her anyway.” Asuka replied. “I used to be a loner and I used to have an ex-best friend that I hated but thanks to becoming a Pretty Cure, I was able to make friends again, even with Yuriko…”

   “Flame gave me that opportunity, too. Even if he was a pretentious bastard at times.” Takeru chuckled.

   Asuka smiled gently, “Glad to hear it.”

   Takeru flopped down, onto Asuka’s lap, surprising her and he looked up at her with grin which was both cheeky and charming. He very easily got comfortable atop her lap. He sprawled out all languid like, one leg over the other as he settled on top of Asuka as though her lap were a pillow.

   “What are you doing?” Asuka frowned playfully.

   “I’m really thankful to you, Asuka, for letting me get that off my chest. I can’t thank you enough, I’m serious.” Takeru said.

   “I’m glad I was able to help.” Asuka replied as she lazily trailed her fingers through Takeru’s hair. It was soft and fluffy to her touch. 

   Then, in turn, Takeru reached up to caress Asuka’s face. His hands were tough. Rough hewn from being a country boy, but they were affectionately warm, as well. He stroked Asuka’s face, only for his hand to then get lost in her hair. Asuka cringed here and there as Takeru not-so-elegantly twirled strands of her hair, tugging and pulling as he rolled the silky strands over himself.

   “You have very pretty hair.” Takeru finally complimented her after taking so long.

   “Gee, thanks,” Asuka half-chuckled, “it was my charm point as Cure Flamingo… and still is not, quite clearly.” The words of the spell to make her transform just behind her lips as Takeru piped up, curious for more.

   “So? Got any stories you can tell me about being Cure Flamingo? Because one time as Soulburner-” Takeru asked, only to be caught off guard by the noise of the door shuddering open.

   They both looked to the side and saw Asuka’s Dad with Takeru’s Grandfather. The latter of whom stepped aside, out of their vision as the late afternoon light was pouring in. Asuka’s Dad, meanwhile, stepped inside the threshold but not a footstep more as he cleared his throat.

   “Glad to see you kids getting along,” he started, “but unfortunately we need to get home, Asuka, as lovely as the Homura hospitality has been, I don’t want to put them out more than we already have with our visit.”

   “Oh, uh, yeah, lemme get up…” Asuka panicked.

   She wriggled out from underneath Takeru who artfully did not let his head drop to the ground with a thud. Asuka scrambled to her feet and then pulled Takeru up. He accepted her offered hand with a firm grip that flustered her. Even more so than their wrestle or their after their exchange on the topic of being former teenage superheroes.

   “It was really good seeing you again, Asuka.” Takeru bade her. “Keep in touch, yeah? I can finally work phones good, thanks to… yeah.”

   “Yeah.” Asuka said, she nodded her head. She knew exactly who “yeah” was.

   Takeru walked Asuka to the door where her Father stood. Then, as a group of four, they walked back down to the Homura estate and lingered by the garden, where the car was parked.

   “Thank you for having us, sir, it was good to catch up.” Asuka’s Dad said to Takeru’s Grandfather.

   “Don’t be strangers, we don’t mind.” Takeru’s Grandfather replied with a nod.

   “I’ll look forward to seeing you again.” Takeru added to Asuka.

   “Same. And don’t worry, I’ve got your number now.” Asuka said. He’d been really worried about getting it wrong on the walk back down to his place.

   With awkward exchanges borne of genuine, sentimental platitudes, Asuka and her Dad got into the car. Asuka flopped down into the passenger seat whilst her Dad readied himself in the driver’s seat. It was going to be late by the time they got back to Aozora City but her Dad said they could just get some takeout and that sounded good to Asuka as she curled into the side of the chair. She looked out the window, her hands on the glass, leaving marks where her fingertips were and then waved a couple more times at Takeru to say goodbye when their eyes met.

   “So.” her Dad said as he carefully took off out of the driveway. “You and Takeru, huh?”

   “Wh-What?” Asuka exclaimed, her head snapping back to the other side.

   “I just think it's nice that you get along so well.” her Dad said, insinuating absolutely nothing but it was more than enough to stoke a flame of embarrassment in his daughter.

   “I-It's not like that, we just have a lot in common and are comfy with skinship, nothin’ wrong with that.” Asuka blustered as her Dad laughed raucously at her expense as she kept spitting panicked embers of denial.

[merryfortune]

eggshells

Un-Love You Challenge: Day 20. I hate you, you bitch.

Ship: Asuka/Yuriko

Fandom: Tropical Rouge PreCure

Word Count: 1.9k

Tags: Not Canon Compliant, Inspired by Revolutionary Girl Utena, Minor Animal death

Synopsis: Shrodinger’s bird is both dead and alive depending on whether its eggshell is broken. Asuka and Yuriko both wish that the bird is dead.

AN: As soon as I saw these two interact, I was instantly reminded of Juri and Shiori from RGU so I wanted to write a fic inspired by that.

   The first omen that their relationship was about to be broken beyond all repair was when the fleur-de-lis locket that Asuka had gotten for Yuriko broke. It came off the hinges unexpectedly with no forewarning. Through sheer force of will, Asuka had gotten it to click back into place but it was lopsided and as it was lopsided, Yuriko had little desire to wear it anymore. It sat awkwardly between her clavicles in a way it had never before.

   Especially not in the way Asuka had first adorned Yuriko with it. That moment of repose, in between torn gift wrapping and the intimacy, had meant a lot to them both. Asuka was delicate as the silver chain slipped into place against Yuriko’s skin. As she did so, she regaled an old wives’ tale that Yuriko hadn’t heard before about misplaced locks, whenever they went askew it meant someone was thinking of you and in the essence of that moment, Yuriko couldn’t help but sense that all Asuka was thinking about was her but… Yuriko was aware of other’s thoughts, too, as she was so damnably perceptive.

   The second omen that their relationship was about to be wounded beyond all healing was when that little black and brown sparrow had flown into the window and didn’t get up afterwards. Asuka had wanted to help it; Yuriko had wanted to allow nature to take its course. 

   They had been standing around the tennis club’s hangout, where they stored their sports gear and such, arguing or trying not to argue as they rallied around the obvious issue in the clubroom when they had heard the smack against the glass. Both had rushed outside as soon as it had happened, expecting a tennis ball. Not a bird. With Asuka taking it in her hands, against Yuriko’s harsh fussing, it was already too late. The skull was cracked, as was its beak and so all it could do was twitch in her hand with some imitation of life. Asuka’s expression was grim; Yuriko’s wasn’t even smug. Neither noticed the other, just assuming the other’s reaction.

   The third omen was that they couldn’t even look at one another. Things had become awkward. Stiff. They both knew they were headed for a brick wall but they were trying to overcome it anyway. Going through, going over, going under. Whatever it took but it was slowing down their game. They couldn’t win together as doubles with this hindered team work but they couldn’t even win either way if they were to go out as doubles. The other members of the tennis club could tell something had happened to them. Or, at the very least, something was happening between them.

   There wasn’t a fourth omen because the fourth unusual event was the end of it all. Their friendship, their love, their whatever their relationship was as more than just partners in tennis but a whole lot less than partners than lovers. After all, things tend to end at four. 

   Sometimes, they even died at four. 

   Unfortunately for Asuka and Yuriko, no matter how they wished for it, what they had didn’t die. And neither of them were the type to simply keel over and expire with their hearts in agony. So, what happened instead was some necrotic deterioration of their relationship and everything else in the way was mere canon fodder for what happened. Yuriko retreated to her own camp, finding a new tribe amongst the folk on the student representative council, and Asuka retreated to one at all, instead choosing to lick her wounds in private.

   Or at least that’s what Asuka had wanted to do. She wanted to sculpt herself as the cool girl. The loner. The girl who didn’t need anyone at all, even though it was no secret that doubles tennis was her passion - and so was any video game with co-op play, be it through multi-player or even A.I. controlled characters. And for a while it worked, she would hide out behind the school’s gymnasium or in the toilets, pretending she didn’t exist for the most part until she hit a collision with someone who was like the striking of the summer sun.

   Natsuumi Manatsu. What a girl. She was bright, bubbly, and she had an actual living mermaid living in some sort of watery genie bottle she kept in her bag - and that was to say nothing of what she could do with the ring on her finger. A ring which would soon have a sister which was gifted for Asuka and thus, Cure Flamingo was born and so was the Tropical Club and all aspirations and illusions that Asuka had of being of being a lone wolf were shattered because deep down, she liked to keep a flock of birds.

   Club President Takizawa Asuka did have a good sound to it, even if it really ought to be Manatsu. She was the central and driving force who had connected together a handful of scattered students who wouldn’t have interacted otherwise but no, no, she had humbly given up the role for Asuka. Seeing something in those bright eyes of her’s that Asuka didn’t even see in herself.

   She was thankful but it was unfortunate but she supposed her underclassmen were cute enough so she’d do anything to protect them. Beat up bullies, beat up underwater bad guys, and of course put herself in the crosshairs time and time again of the worst of the worst: young ladies like Kakuta Masami and, of course, Shiratori Yuriko.

   For so long, Asuka had managed to avoid the hawk-eyed ire of the council president. She hadn’t escaped it completely but she had minimised it but thanks to the Tropical Club, Asuka was once again the subject of that cold, hardened gaze. When it could be sustained at least.

   No matter the lecture, it did become apparent here and there within Yuriko’s behaviour that she was avoiding Asuka’s own, fierce gaze. She had all the power of fluttering wings and mermaid magic, she could handle one ex...something. Friend, girlfriend, partner. It didn’t matter; it hadn’t mattered because they felt like it would last forever so there was no need to label it. What rot that was. Now look at them. Going to war each time they gimpsed one another. Asuka could handle how Yuriko’s avian, yellow eyes slitted around her and how she had mastered the effect of looking closely, directly whilst actually not. 

   And so began their newest foray into being foes. The battleground might have changed but the battle itself hadn’t. The to and fro was far too familiar to them both as tennis pros. The rally and the volley. It was all the same to them: all a racket. Thus leading to their latest confrontation in Yuriko’s council room. 

   When it was all to themselves, like right now, they were free to get as downright nasty as they pleased: even if it was under the veneer of rather hushed voices. As much as they wanted to squawk at each other like duelling carrion birds, this was still a school so they had to keep their composure and their voices down. Besides, there were plenty more ways to pierce than just being ear-piercingly shrill in their voices.

   “You’re doing this on purpose,” Asuka insisted brusquely, “random inventory checks by the Disciplinary Committee aren’t so random if they’re only being held on the Tropical Club.”

   Yuriko shrugged, her face just a degree off from fully facing Asuka, her arms were folded in front of her, “I do not control the personal actions and decisions of Kakuta-san,” Yuriko murmured, “I merely suggest that the time is right at pure arbitrary of my own whims as they come and go between the paperwork and other scheduling that I do.”

   The dangling of the conspiracy infuriated Asuka. She growled, her hand balling into a fist by her side and in the thick of that raw noise in her throat, she hissed, “I hate you, you bitch.” Asuka knew she was right and Yuriko knew it too but was keeping it so locked and guarded and yet so out in the open just to bait Asuka. The rage that it caused seeped through and made Asuka seem redder - and madder - than her hair.

   “I hate you, too.” Yuriko smiled, oh so pleasant, her eyes crinkling in the corner with genuine joy.

   Asuka gritted her teeth and she stormed forward. She grabbed Yuriko by the lapels and shook her. Yuriko went prone with the roughness, seemingly not caring one bit at how Asuka had accosted her. Her whole body was limp, without worry, without so much as a glimmer of harshness in her eyes as they were far, far away from this brutish conversation.

   “What the hell is wrong with you?” Asuka growled. “Target me all you want, I don’t care, I can take it but leave the other girls out of it. The Tropical Club has nothing to do with us-”

   A glint of silver caught Asuka’s eye and just that tiny flash was enough to halt her tirade completely. All her anger ceased in her mouth as she was so stunned by what she saw on the pale of Yuriko’s skin. It slinked and slithered on her clavicles, mostly hidden by the turquoise of her flapping collar: the locket.

   “Y-You're still wearing it?” Asuka asked and she let go of Yuriko gingerly.

   She huffed, sorted herself out and Asuka noticed that the clasp was askew. Right by her pencil-thin neck, right where Asuka had always dreamed to leave a bruise: be it from love or from wrath, it mattered not. Especially now that Yuriko had gone and fixed it up, moving the clasp to the back of her neck, the locket moving beneath the white of her sailor shirt.

   Yuriko bore an enigmatic expression as she looked up, done with her fussing. It was distant and playful. And she reached out to Asuka, shocking her with the seeming kindness in her fingertips as they brushed past her temples, caressing her. Asuka winced and she was blinded. Yuriko’s fingers cupped her face in a way so that all she could see - and feel - was her hands. Her soft, supple hands and the spritz of a maturely scented perfume on her wrist. Asuka’s heart skipped a beat.

   Yuriko kissed her. It was a kiss that was like dry ice to Asuka’s searing mouth. It was a cold, clinical kiss that was fit to leave a blister on Asuka’s skin. She tried not to kiss back but all her soul wanted to. She had yearned to kiss Yuriko for so long, so why did this have to be the circumstance? When a kiss was not a kiss but a way in which to kill instead.

   Especially… Especially knowing the last time that Asuka could recall before this incident wherein she and Yuriko had locked eyes, firmly and strongly, for the last time. The event which had been foretold by the various omens of things breaking apart, getting wounded, and even dying. When Asuka had seen Yuriko kissing someone else through the crack of an ajar door at the tennis club room. The memory and recollection made Asuka sick and to think of it now, at such a pertinent moment, sullied the seconds that Yuriko spended on her, kissing her with such stringent luxury that it was calculated to the edge of her sigh on her sharp mouth.

   But in the darkness of her hands, that’s all Asuka could see and it all but killed her. She wished that it killed her.