Rain of Fire and Color
Mr. Match does not make plans. Ever. Why?!
Because whenever he plans out something, be it whatever, things tended to not only not go his way, but to end up doing cartwheels on a roller coaster that just reached the end of its tracks and launched into the air… metaphorically-speaking of course.
So how did Mr. Match end up running through a boat packed full with fireworks that were on the brink of catching on fire, chasing that goddamn dog Rush around, while his date was waiting in vain for him on the shore?
He had made plans. Duh.
- Mr. Match? You are wearing a hole into the floor – Torchman commented in a low voice.
- If this dumbass floor cannot take a little bit of pacing, then it deserves to get a hole! – Match shouted, angrily doing rounds in his room.
- The date will not come faster just because you cannot sit still and do something else.
- Put a sock on it, will ya, Torchman?! I cannot be calm on this day!
- You have been preparing for it for over a year now. Surely, it will go smoothly.
- BAH! I just know something will go awry! I just feel it in my bones! – Match threw his hands into the air in agitation.
- Sure, if you think of it that way…
- This was a huge mistake!
Torchman's flame burnt more intensely and he immediately switched into defensive mode:
- Mr. Match, do not say that! This is the greatest decision you have ever done in your life.
- The dumbest decision I have ever done.
- True men do not go back on their word and back out of an agreement. You are no coward to do such thing!
Mr. Match finally stopped and took a long deep breath.
- Ye'r right about that, lad – he finally huffed, throwing himself down on his bed.
- Get some rest before the night, Mr. Match – Torchman advised, greatly relieved that his intervention worked yet again.
Match did not look like he was ready to sleep, but obediently leant back on his bed. Five minutes later and he was snoring so loud that his small flat shook with it. Torchman let out a tired sigh as he looked over the bedroom. Their bachelor life had been nuked, so to speak, around a year ago, and since then chaos reigned over everything.
Chaos that took on the form of complete order and tidiness. Yes, indeed, Mr. Match's warzone-looking flat used to be filled with thrown away lighters, burnt matches, melted candles, a couple of cigarettes and cigars, newspapers, small bags of gun powder and only God knows what else among the "ruins", even a couple of burnmarks on the walls and ceiling. Now, this flat was spotless, cleaned completely, the paint on the walls corrected, the trash collected and thrown out. In the cupboard new batch of fresh, recently washed clothes hung, even two suits as well. The dishes were done in the kitchen, put away neatly. Torchman could barely recognize their own home.
Then again, one year was long enough for him to make peace with these radical changes. At first he had been constantly bitching about the idea, calling out Mr. Match on his stupidity and tried his damnest to dissuade his NetOp from going through with this plan. By the end of the year, however, the roles drastically changed. Now it was Torchman's task to keep his NetOp from chickening out as the day rapidly approached.
- Hey, Torch! – called out a new voice in his PET.
Wackoman just arrived through a gate, landing softly on his huge ball.
- Wacko – Torchman nodded curtly. – Everything's fine on the main front?
- Yes, do not worry for a second – the clown laughed. – How is our knight in fire red armor?
- Freaking out.
- Oh dear. Well, you have been doing a magnificent job at keeping him on tracks. We only need to do it a bit longer.
- The others?
- Standing by, ready for the big moment.
- God I hope none of them blows the secret – Torchman grumbled.
- Really? You know Elec and Magic to be gossipers? – Wackoman grinned at him.
- Not them. Jack, maybe.
- Oh, he's taking it seriously. Damn seriously, in fact. You forget he has experience in such matters.
- Oh right, that fiasco with Ann. That was one hell of a weird day – Torchman nodded.
- Is the package secured?
- Safe and sound – the fire Navi gestured towards a shelf in Mr. Match's bedroom.
On it rested a small box made of mahogany.
- Do not let him forget about it – Wackoman glanced at his partner-in-crime with one of his rare deadly serious expressions. – Our whole year's efforts will be for nothing otherwise.
- I will be damned before I allow this whole thing to get screwed over by that – Torchman's gaze grew hard and unwavering. – It's going to be smooth sailing, you'll see.
- Ha, it sure will! – Wackoman laughed again, losing his seriousness in a heartbeat. – I knew I could count on you, Torch.
- With these two idiots, it's gotta be a team effort for it to work.
- World Three forward! – the clown shouted, nearly jostling Mr. Match out of his sleep.
- You keep it down, will ya?! – Torchman hissed at him as the two of them laid low in the PET. – Are you out of your mind?!
- Sorry, sorry – Wackoman chuckled. – You know I can get carried away at times…
- Alright, what's the time, anyway? – Torchman pulled up a clock. – Hm, an hour or so and he can start getting ready for the date.
- Maddy's hairdresser should be done soon as well. I'd better get going – Wackoman hummed, opening a gate back to his own PET. – Let's make this New Year's Eve memorable, eh?
- Oh, I bet it will – Torchman nodded in farewell.
One way or another, tonight was going to end on a most interesting note.
oooOOOooo
- Mr. Match—
- What is it, Torchman?!
- Your suit is straight enough, it won't get any better just because you keep pulling it for the last hour or so.
- 'Ey, can it, sparkplug! I'm not pulling it.
- Yes you are… And there you again.
Mr. Match bit down on a curse as he forcefully tore his hands away from the flaps of his jacket. It was just ridiculous how nervous he felt. Nausea tried to come over him every 10 minutes, his otherwise confident steps now held quivers. Not only that, but he just felt absolutely stupid about it too! The suit looked dashing on him, both Torchman and Wackoman said so (the clown in these past weeks almost became his second NetNavi at this point), but he felt weird in it. His long hair was now tied back into a loose ponytail resting on his back, keeping his locks from falling over his shoulder. He wore cologne as well.
Honestly, he just felt like completely out of his element as he was walking slowly down the street towards his destination. The small mahogany box, with its safe lock closed tight, was tugged away in one of his pockets. Tonight's New Year's Eve on Jawaii would be most interesting, partially because World Three got word that even Lan Hikari, his family and friends were spending the celebrations here this year. For what reason, they didn't really know, and Mr. Match also did not care. Jawaii was a popular tourist stop and the place tended to throw the best festivals as a result. That whiny rich kid Yai must have invited them or whatever, only she had enough money from that group to organize something like this.
Match pulled out the box, gazing at it while turning it around in his fingers. It was barely big enough to be held in one palm. In the darkness of the night and the lights of the city, it held an almost mystical shine on its well-polished surface.
Something swooped by behind his back, but neither Match, nor Torchman noticed. The Navi fell silent in the PET, just being grateful that the moment of truth was just an hour away. Honestly, this had been a true test of his nerves up to this point. It would be a great relief to finally be over and done with it.
- This thing… will change everything – Mr. Match mumbled, lost in thought. – For the better or worse, but today will be the turning point. I—
- WOOF!
Suddenly, the mahogany box was gone from his fingers.
Almost like in a dream, Mr. Match locked eyes with that stupid dog virus Rush, the beast holding the box in his mouth. Time froze…
… then lurched forward.
- EY! – Match shouted, lunging forward but missed and almost fell over in his shiny new shoes.
Rush bolted down one of the alleyways, running on all four. Torchman screeched, unable to form words in the sudden panic, the flame on top of his head turning into a bonfire.
- COME BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE SHIT! – Mr. Match roared and ran after the virus dog.
Rush suddenly came to a halt to open a hole in the ground and disappear in it. He jumped head first into it, already barking in triumph. However, both he and Mr. Match himself had been surprised by the sheer speed with what the human closed in on him. With a hard yank on his left leg, Rush was pulled out of the rapidly closing hole. He found himself staring into the brown eyes of rage itself.
- You little piece of trash, you'd better give that box right back or I'll—
Rush kicked him so hard in the elbow that Mr. Match let go of him with a yelp, to cuddle his arm. The cyberdog smacked into the ground but quickly sprung him and started running in the direction of the docks, with the human in tow.
- I will skin you alive, you hear me?! – Mr. Match bellowed, achieving such running speed he didn't know he was capable of.
Appearance forgotten completely, every fiber of his being now focused on catching that useless pile of data and retrieving the box. Nothing else mattered!
- Get him, Match! Get him! – Torchman joined in the shouting from his pocket, finally finding his voice and restarting his brain from the complete shutdown back there.
A smaller crowd of wealthy tourists, who were a bit late from the party on the main dock's restaurant, stared in awe as a man dressed in red suit tore across the street in front of them, his dark tie trailing after him. The strange dog-like creature he was chasing suddenly took a hard right turn and ran straight at the crowd. Women and men jumped out of its way, shouting in alarm. The red-suited man skidded a few meters on the pavement but managed to turn as well and ran past the crowd, jumping onto a large dumpster with cat-like agility, his shoes shining the city lights. Vaulting over that obstacle the man landed hard on the pavement and stormed after the dog, screaming such profanities at it that most of the women blushed in shame.
Mr. Match's reflexes were tilted to the maximum as he half-ran, half-parkoured after Rush. The dog clearly tried to lose his pursuer in more and more elaborate ways. He took a sharp turn and bolted down a pair of stairs leading to a park. Mr. Match jumped onto the railing without hesitation, and skidded down on it, arriving on his feet like nobody's business.
Rush grumbled in annoyance, greatly surprised (and impressed) by the human's agility. Stealing this doomsday box (clearly, it was a doomsday box, if the former criminal's mumbling had been anything to go by) should have been much easier than this! He would have to shake him off somehow.
Match saw the damnable dog run between workers who were setting up something and most converged towards the docks that were just beyond the park. One man in particular was carrying around a large stack of boxes and saw absolutely nothing from them. Match did not bother going around the guy, he suddenly dropped onto his knees and skidded under his arms and the boxes, slightly leaning backwards to fit under. Once clearing the stunned obstacle, he jumped right back up and tore after the dog, not even slowing down.
Rush was clearly getting desperate. He opened yet another hole leading to the Cyberworld. Mr. Match couldn't catch him in time but that hardly mattered when he too dived into the opening headfirst.
He arrived to a brightly lit green area with the sky the hue of red and blue. It was probably the network for operating the sprinkle system in the park or something. He didn't care about that, nor about the fact that he was, in fact, in the virtual world. Next to him, the full-sized Torchman smacked into the ground with a surprised shout. Mr. Match quickly pulled him to his feet then ran after Rush who was zooming by some grazing sheep-shaped viruses.
- Match, what the hell?! – Torchman shouted, running after his much smaller NetOp who was suddenly right next to him in the flesh.
- Keep your eyes on that fucking dog, Torch!
- But you are in the Cyberworld!
- I don't give a fuck! We have to get the box back!
- But you are in the goddamn Cyberworld! – Torchman shrieked, brain frozen yet again, but body thankfully storming after his single-minded NetOp without pause.
Rush glanced back and almost fell over his own feet when he saw the human still chasing him, even in here. This was just insane!
To the dog's barking, some of the sheep viruses turned towards Match and Torchman to somehow stop them.
- Torch!
- Dinner's lamb, apparently – the NetNavi swooped by his NetOp and began to make short work of the viruses. – Go, Match! I'll handle these.
Rush realized the man would follow him into the Undernet itself, if he had to. He couldn't allow the human to get hurt in the cyberworld. So, albeit grudgingly, he opened another gate. Sure enough, Mr. Match quickly followed him, kicking a couple bleating sheep viruses out of the way like they were hairy footballs, then did a cannon ball into the opening, coming out tumbling onto the pavement of the real world. Torchman returned into his PET the moment the border was crossed.
- That was just fucking weird – he mumbled, completely disoriented.
Thankfully, his NetOp had no such problems. He unwaveringly kept his focus on the stupid dog headed for the docks beyond the park.
A large ship of some kind was preparing to leave port. Rush jumped aboard and disappeared inside. Match masterfully dodged a shouting worker who tried to bar his way, then took a running start and jumped aboard the moving ship. He leaned on his knees, panting for a few seconds before taking off again. Damn, he was getting too old for this shit.
It quickly turned out the ship was packed with fireworks, all primed and ready for the big moment the clock hit midnight. Due to all the dangerous explosives, the whole vehicle was automated, no human crew was aboard, even the large crane they had used for loading on it was fully robotic. Despite its role, it was clearly a repurposed mini-cruise ship: it had multiple decks, two towering above the main one, and even larger spaces that had obviously been buffets and halls.
- Jack in, Torchman! Make sure that little shit does not slip away through the system – Mr. Match sent his Navi inside the network of the ship, while he himself vaulted over prepared rows of fireworks, railings and stairs, relentlessly pursuing Rush.
- Mr. Match, we are literally on a ship packed to the brim with explosives. This is dangerous! – Torchman called out, trying his damnest to follow the goose chase in the network as best as he could.
Usually, he was down to a good pyro-show or two along with his NetOp, but he wasn't stupid: actually standing straight on top of a powder keg is never a good idea, no matter the light show it may produce.
- I am not leaving without the box, Torchman! – barked his NetOp. – How much time until midnight?!
- 15 minutes.
- That's enough.
- What is your plan, seriously?! Are you going to swim your way out of here?!
- Aye, if all else fails – Match answered with ease as he once again dropped to his knees and skidded under some tubes.
- Goddamnit – Torchman surrendered to his fate. – Mr. Match, we are going to have to get in front of that dog somehow.
- Are there any cameras on this fucking ship?! Can you see him?
-… Yes, he is one deck below y—WAIT, MATCH!
Mr. Match flung himself over the railing, plummeting a good 5 meters before crashing into a big crate of firework rockets.
- Thanks, Torch – he called out as he hauled himself out of the box, casually dusting off the powder from the rockets.
- You are killing me here! – the Navi shouted at him, the fire on his head shrinking from dread.
Mr. Match found himself inside a darker storage area, with crates and robotic arms ready to be deployed to the top deck, if backup fireworks were needed. He grabbed a spare pipe from a bunch by a wall, and raised it as a sword.
- Torch, where is that little shit?
- He's somewhere to your right, but… it looks like he's lost in here. He's coming back to this hall.
- Perfect – hissed Mr. Match venomously, hiding by the only door leading to the right.
- Match, only 10 minutes until midnight – Torch tried to warn him.
- I GOT THIS! – roared Match and swung his pipe with all the force he could muster.
It missed the entering Rush's head by a hair's length. The dog yelped and ducked, rolling by the human's feet. The two enemies locked eyes, standing only a few meters away from each other.
- Last chance, you trash datapile. Give me the box – Match threatened, spinning the pipe in his hand with great ease.
Who would have guessed his former fire-dancer job would prove useful one day.
Rush barked angrily, challenging the former criminal, one hand clutching the slightly chewed up box. Out of literally nowhere, he pulled out a pair of bone nunchakus and he too spun it around, beckoning his opponent, placing the prize in his mouth again to free his hands.
- This is just so fucking stupid – mumbled Torch from Mr. Match's pocket.
The two warriors lunged at each other with a shout. Weapons clashed and filled the air with their ringing. Rush was surprisingly adept with his nunchakus, dancing around Mr. Match like a slippery madman, but Match had the advantage in physical strength and size. Determined to the core, he side-stepped most of the blows and dished out his own strikes. He swung the pipe in a wide arc, barely missing the ducking Rush's head. The two opponents clashed and retreated, circling around each other, seizing each other up, before striking again. Neither could overpower the other.
Finally, Match flung his pipe at an unexpected angle. It missed Rush, but just the very tip knocked the box out of his mouth by some miracle.
- Yes! – he shouted, jumping after his prize that skidded under some crate.
Rush barked in defiance, throwing his nunchaku in a desperate attempt. It sailed right over Match's head and crashed into one of the robotic arms looming over them. The machine malfunctioned as the weapon struck straight at its joint, and buckled under its own weight, falling straight onto Mr. Match. The human barely had time to flung himself onto the ground mid-running, skidding on his belly. The arm came crashing down, barely stopping above his head but pinning him to the ground.
- No! NO! – he struggled, trying to squirm free from under the machine.
Rush swooped passed him, grabbing and holding the box high. With a final victorious bark he opened a gate to the Cyberworld, ready to dive into it.
Except the hole began vomiting fire jets like a volcano.
- YOU ARE NOT GOING ANYWHERE! – howled Torchman, flooding the opening with fire from the Cyberworld.
Rush reared back, throwing the box away in alarm. It skipped across the ground, straight into arm's reach for Match who quickly struck out from his prison and claimed it finally. The fire jets scorched the storage walls, flames rained down onto the crates.
Almost at the mark of a baton, all Hell broke loose.
Some of the crates caught fire and the firework rockets blew up inside it or launched into the air, crashing into the tube-covered ceiling above. The thin-walled metal tubes quickly succumbed to the fire and collapsed. Rush screamed and flung himself out of the way, the burning debris cutting him off from Mr. Match. The fire quickly spread, more and more fireworks came to life with loud bangs or screeches.
- Torch, are you out of your mind?! – Mr. Match shouted, desperately trying to back out from under the robotic arm.
- Yes! Apparently I am! Sorry! – the NetNavi retorted hysterically. – Hold on!
From the Cyberworld he managed to force the malfunctioning arm to move and rise up ever so slightly, setting his NetOp free. Match struggled to his feet and bolted for a nearby, unobstructed ladder that led to the upper decks.
With only one minute until midnight, the automated ship was preparing for the light show. Machines came to life, conveyer belts ran, rockets lined up and small sparkplugs began generating sparks to set the fuses on fire. In the meantime, the fire rapidly spread below-deck. The sprinkler-system was mostly non-functional: the rockets blowing up against the ceiling pretty much destroyed most of it. Mr. Match barely escaped from the raging inferno, parts of his suit covered in sparks from the powder left from the fireworks. He climbed onto the main deck, fleeing from the flames hot on his heels.
He vaulted over the machinery and fireworks. In the orange light, his eyes fell onto their only salvation from the spreading hell.
oooOOOooo
- He won't come, will he? I should have known – Maddy mumbled, completely defeated.
- Don't be like that, Maddy, please! I'm sure something important is keeping him up! – Wackoman tried to hold the life in his NetOp with growing desperation.
As smoothly as the day went, the night went to shit pretty quickly. Maddy arrived to the main harbor's five-star terrace restaurant at the beginning of the date, dressed for a lovely date. However, Mr. Match simply disappeared, and even Torchman did not answer to anything Wackoman tried to send him. They had been waiting for over an hour, the clock creeping towards midnight and the supposedly big moment. People buzzed around their table, most of them in beautiful clothing, making Maddy even more uncomfortable. Wackoman tried to reassure her that she blended into the crowd beautifully in her current attire, but the other, empty side of the dinner table easily negated his efforts.
- I know how much he hates these fancy places and big parties – Maddy ducked her head in shame, hoping the night would hide her reddening cheeks. – Of course he would back out in the last minute. I wish he would have at least gave a heads-up first!
- Maddy, you know Match is no coward – Wackoman argued desperately. – He would not regress now, especially not without a word!
Maddy helplessly looked around the terrace, feeling even smaller than before. The building of the restaurant curved around the plaza, one wing of it standing straight at the edge of the harbor. Nearly every available table had been placed outside for the New Year's Eve, in a way that they had great view onto the bay. The ships carrying the fireworks were getting in position, one of them passing by exceptionally close to the shore. Well-dressed wealthy people mingled on the terrace, carefreely chatting with each other. Not too far from Maddy's table, her least favorite group made themselves comfortable: the loud obnoxious party of Lan and co. Of course that rich Yai kid would organize a New Year's Eve party to Jawaii. Maddy almost felt like she did it just to make her even more uncomfortable. Literally no one was alone at their table, except for her, and it made her feel incredibly stupid. Yahoot and Count Zap couldn't be seen in the crowd: officially they weren't invited to this dinner, the sheer size of the bill dissuaded them.
Even Match saved up for over a year for this dinner, or so he had said. And it was supposed to be an exceptionally nice night for just the two of them.
- Maddy, it's okay! He will show up – Wackoman gently tried to cheer her up.
- No… he won't. He has never been late before – Maddy mumbled in complete defeat, not even touching her glass of wine.
-… Would you like me to go look for them? I can track his PET down – Wackoman finally offered, officially running out of ideas.
He did not want to leave his NetOP behind in this situation, but this might have been their only option at this point. In all honesty, he was angry… incredibly angry. Torchman promised and promised and promised that he would make sure Match remained on track tonight. The clown wanted nothing more than finding that overgrown sparkplug and confront him in his failure, perhaps dish out a couple of backhands with his large palms.
An entire year's worth of planning, ruined, right before the finish line! And for what?!
A woman's scream alerted them. Maddy instinctively pressed her purse to her chest in alarm as she turned around, staring out at the sea. One of the ships, the one closest to the harbor no less, was on fire. Hot-white flames, colorful sparks and debris burst from the stomach of the vessel in all directions, the flames on the main deck moving to engulf the fireworks. It was a sight both mesmerizing and terrifying: the ship spewing a rain of fire and color as its still functioning engine kept it going. People evacuated the edge of the harbor where burning debris smacked into the paved ground, but thankfully the deadly projectiles did not hit anyone, nor did they fly any closer to the crowd.
- What is going on? – Maddy whispered as she stood up and drew closer to the ship.
Personally, she found it beautiful, even if she knew well to keep her distance.
The first rows of fireworks caught fire and most of them shot out to the sky, while others blew up on the spot, adding to the colorful storm. Suddenly the automated crane on the other end of the ship began to move and slowly spin around its axis. Maddy could almost swear she saw something dangling from its hook in a flash of light just there. The crane, screeching with an earsplitting sound, spun around a couple of times, building up momentum. Barking drew Maddy's attention temporarily away, and she saw a hole opening up in the ground next to Lan, revealing a shell-shocked looking Rush.
Finally the ship's nose reached the restaurant's wing that was closest to the sea, just as the engines gave up working and the vessel stopped, positively starting to sink. The crane's hook changed trajectory and passed over the roof. Its mysterious load turned out to be a human who landed surprisingly smoothly on the metallic covers and rolled over his head. Right before the crowd, the man vaulted over the edge of the roof, bounced off one of the stretched tilts and landed on his feet like nobody's business.
Maddy watched in awe as Mr. Match in all of his ruffled, worn and scorched glory walked up to her like the manliest man on the planet.
oooOOOooo
Priorities can be strange.
Mr. Match caught himself trying to imagine just how beaten up and downright horrible his suit must have looked by now, while he was dangling from the spinning crane's hook in mid-air, above a burning inferno. It would have been utterly ridiculous, only Match somehow found this problem incredibly serious right there and then. He flew over the colorful hell that the ship's main deck became, his hold firm on the hook of the crane that was operated by Torchman. The little box he had fought so hard for was tucked away safely in an inner pocket of his jacket.
… A jacket that must have looked dreadful at this point, now that he thought about it.
Thankfully he had managed to regain his focus long enough to stick the landing atop of the roof of the restaurant, rolling over his head to soften the collision. Holding onto his momentum he easily flung himself off the building, using a tilt as a trampoline mid-way down.
After his feet finally hit solid ground once again, Mr. Match briefly thought about quickly disappearing into the crowd like nothing happened and go look for Yahoot or Jack, see if they could help him with his ruined attire.
That all was forgotten, however, once he laid eyes upon the true reason he had fought this hard tonight.
Maddy stood at the edge of the crowd, staring right at him with those large and honestly beautiful dark green eyes of hers. They even held an extra magical glimmer in the light of the sinking, fireworks-spewing ship. It was the first time Mr. Match saw her in this dress, and honestly, he was happy with that.
He wouldn't have wanted this sight to be spoiled.
Maddy looked absolutely gorgeous. She wore a sleeveless mermaid dress of royal purple color, with braids of golden flowers woven into its torso part. It was simple but undoubtedly elegant, and silky streaks of light danced on its fabric. Her hair held wondrous waves, with locks woven into a braid crown, decorated with golden flowers of the same style as on her dress. She wore no jewelry other than a simple necklace with a rainbow-stone on it, the only gift she ever had from her grandmother. Unlike her usual appearance, she had put on a natural make-up, nothing too fancy or eye-catching. Afterall, Maddy had an elegant face, she needed no more to get the message across.
Match walked up to her, mind empty and drinking in her beauty. He reached into his inner pocket and pulled out the small box, fingers easily opening the safety lock on it, after weeks of practice.
- Maddy Iroaya – he called out in a strong voice. – On this one-of-a-kind evening, I must ask you…
He stepped before the stunned woman of his dreams and sunk to one knee, holding up the opened box. His mind dimly registered their surroundings: the hundreds of eyes all kept on the two of them, the stunned silence of the Hikari brat and his group, the complete shock and disbelief of that cyberdog, the sinking blazing ship still spewing fireworks along with its brethren further out on the sea.
Truly, the ringing of a distant bell and the sky of a million colors perfectly represented Maddy, as if the whole world decided to, on the brink of the New Year, fit the woman perfectly.
Well, she most certainly deserved it.
- Will you marry me? – Match finally asked, raising the prize of his battle: a golden ring, with a row of four small encrusted precious stones on it.
It seemed that time froze and refused to move forward.
Then Maddy's eyes welled up and she covered her mouth with one hand, whispering the magical word that would forever change their lives:
- Yes.
This fanfic was a completely randomness on my part. It is pretty much canonical that Match and Maddy are a pair, if you look at the episodes. I figured it is high time someone finally writes a fanfic about these two, while putting the usual chaos World Three is known for into it. :)
... Also I hate Rush. That little bitch is just always in the goddamn way. But right now he was very useful for this story, not gonna lie.
Hope you cupcakes enjoy it! Take care!