A/N: my first fic, lemme know what u think! also much love to all the princess jellyfish fans worldwide!
The Sisters hadn't spoken since they had entered the station. As they waited for their train home Mayaya, looming awkwardly over the rest of the group, glanced down to her companions. From beneath the cover of her deep fringe her eyes flitted from face to face; all had a distant glaze to their expressions, seemingly lost in their own respective worlds. It made them appear calm, Mayaya thought. Peaceful.
The opposite of how she felt.
Oh god, she thought, what...what if someone's watching me just looking at my friends? Not even talking to them? Just staring at them like some wierdo….like I'm being stared at now!
"This train! Pheweh! It's taking longer than the Yellow Turban Rebellion!" she found herself blurting.
None of the Sisters responded.
Her eyes darted from expressionless face to expressionless face. Banba turned to look up at her, blinked, then looked away. Just the usual Three Kingdoms nonsense from their goofy friend.
Mayaya felt the scrutiny of her unseen watchers intensify.
"Yes, the Yellow Turban Rebellion..." she continued, babbling, "If Emperor Ling ran this station, well! These petty engineers would be strapped to their own railways! Disciplined!"
What did that even mean? Mayaya knew it wasn't the right thing to say, but it was something...the only thing, that came to her in the panicked moment. The rich history of the Three Kingdoms had always been her greatest passion, a world of intricate layers, but she knew that her passion was not shared by her Sisters.
She'd just felt an intense pressure to speak, to fill the silence and to confirm to those unseen eyes that she was amongst friends.
If only I was Banba, she thought, lost in thoughts of trains whistling a symphony, or Tsukimi, entranced by the dance of the jellyfish. While they remained serene in their private worlds, she felt her own world buzzing with Outside pressures.
She swung out with her arm, chopping at the air in front of her.
"Disciplined, aye! Punished! Not even Zhang Jue could revive their bloodied corpses!"
Inside, Mayaya screamed.
A strange, rumbling sound was the only response from the Sisters.
No. Not from the Sisters.
She jutted her head back, peering out from beneath her fringe.
A boy. A cute boy. Laughing.
At her.
This was the worst possible outcome of a trip to the city. As she retreated into herself, screaming admonishments at her idiocy, she felt her entire body stiffen.
Is this how a cat feels, she vaguely mused, when it bristles it's fur out of fear?
More like a corpse, another part of herself replied, going into rigor mortis.
That was her last distinct thought as a muddled wave of emotions crystallized her body inside and out, all awareness congealing into an incoherent tangle.
"That's good! Hah! Not many people know about the Yellow Turban Rebellion, much less joke about the great healer Zhang Jue!" a voice from Outside intoned.
Mayaya managed to redirect some of her consciousness to her eyes.
A handsome face, sparkling with amusement. Styled, black curls. A cleverly co-ordinated outfit.
A hipster!
Staring directly at her.
She felt eyes on her from every direction: the hipster's friends, wondering why their handsome companion was talking to this freak; her Sisters, equally frozen, silently begging her to resolve this unfortunate encounter; strangers scattered throughout the station, judging smugly from a distance.
"Zhang Jue would've made a great leader, had the Yellow Turban Rebellion succeeded. A healer who became a general? If only we had politicians like him today, eh?" the hipster continued.
His smile widened, and he flashed Mayaya a cheeky grin, looking at her expectantly.
What was happening?
She was being mocked somehow, she knew, but it wasn't the same as in her school days. For one, the hipster's friends looked as confused as she did. Didn't the bully usually include his friends when he teased someone? And there was a warmth to the hipsters expression, as if he was sharing a private joke.
Isn't that what he'd said? That he liked her joke about Zhang Jue?
Mayaya hadn't even realised she'd made a joke.
She didn't even know why she said it.
This was overwhelming. She hadn't even expected the Sister's to acknowledge her, much less be overheard by a passing stranger. Life was so much simpler when she could spout Three Kingdom's nonsense and be safely ignored.
The dark-haired hipster was still regarding her, his cheeky grin fading now to a confused but good natured smile. Oh god, she thought, how long had she been cemented in place for? She had to speak!
"I… like… Zhang Jue," she said hesitantly, clutching an arm to her chest as if in salute.
What am I doing, her internal voice screamed, why can't I react like a normal person?
Why is a hipster talking to me about an ancient Yellow Turban general?
"Home train!" Banba suddenly yelled, pointing down the platform.
Mayaya sensed a collective feeling of relief wash through the Sisterhood as an escape from this unexpected interaction rushed towards them. With Banba excitedly describing the unique features of the approaching train, the Sisters shuffled forward.
Mayaya remained a statue, her arm still locked in salute.
She felt ridiculous.
How could she adjust her posture to appear more natural? Let her arm fall to her side? Fold her arms? How had she gotten into this position?
Why couldn't she move?
"I'll let you catch your train," the dark-haired stranger was saying, "but the museum is putting on an exhibition on the Eastern Han dynasty in a couple of weeks – apparently they have something special for the opening. No doubt the Yellow Turban will be represented. Maybe I'll see you there!"
Some deep reserve of strength within Mayaya allowed her to bob her head in response.
The strange hipster flashed a final smile, turned, and headed back to his waiting friends. Still frozen in place, Mayaya braced for the inevitable explosion of laughter that would confirm the situation as a strange prank. His friends merely looked at him questioningly, which he responded to with a bland shrug. Then they continued on, as if nothing had happened.
What had happened?
As usual, the Sisters rode the train home in silence.
There were so many pressures Outside. When Mayaya faltered under the weight of it all, babbling incoherently about ancient history was her only support. It was such an unconscious reflex that often even she didn't understand what she was saying.
So what did it mean that someone Outside had understood her?
And responded?