Levity
"Here you go. You get six shots. 250 points gets you a prize. Don't mess up," Fujiwara no Mokou said as she handed the balls to the shrine maiden. Overhead, fireworks continued to crackle; children tottered down the streets of the human village in their geta and kimono, and food sellers bawled over the hubbub of the crowd to sell their wares.
"I don't get this game," Reimu replied. Mokou sighed, as only somebody who has known long suffering can.
"It's skeeball, Reimu. Skeeball! The most popular imported game in Gensokyo, the craze that's sweeping youkai and human alike!" Marisa said, enthusiasm bubbling in every word. She sounded like a street corner hustler.
"I'll show you once how it's done. Watch," Mokou said, and took a step back from the lane. With practised movements she sent the ball soaring up the lane, dropping it neatly into a thirty point hole. She didn't bat an eyelid at her score, instead taking a long drag from her cigarette. There could be no doubt she'd aimed at the 30, and could have gotten the 50 if the fancy had taken her.
Reimu hefted the ball in her palm, appraising its weight. It didn't seem so different from her yin-yang orbs. Her aim was good from danmaku battles, too – surely she had an advantage. With a grin, she sent her first ball on its way. She grinned as it sailed, up the lane; she grinned as it neared the top; she grinned as it shot off the end of the ramp and through the air, landing six feet behind the alley.
"That was just a test shot," she said, and rolled the second ball. It puttered out before reaching the goals, sliding back down the slope to her like a faithful puppy. Four more balls followed in rapid succession, thrown hard, soft, curved, straight; four more misses were her reward. Her grin was still on her face, but it had hardened when she faced Mokou and declared:
"Again."
Six more balls were supplied, and within half a minute they were gone. Without words, the miko stretched out her hand for more ammunition.
Mokou watched, and spoke to Marisa in a quiet voice. "…Should I give her some pointers? I don't want her to get frustrated and wreck the table."
"Nah," the witch said, and touched the brim of her hat. "Reimu's a monster, ze... she's good at everything without trying. So she doesn't really know the buzz you get from failing and improving. It might not look like it, but I think she's having fun."
"Or you like seeing her fail for once."
"That's a dangerous rumour, ze… Still. Just once, I'd like to see how scary she could get if she practised something. It'd give me something to aim for, y'know?"
Fireworks crackled overhead, and the sound of festival drums beckoned the night. With a hard, unwavering grin, Reimu threw the balls up the alley; with a smile, her best friend watched her.
A/N: I don't know why, when given this prompt, my brain made the leap to skeeball, a game I've rarely played and rarely seen. Words move in mysterious ways sometimes. These aren't good so far, but I feel like they're getting a little easier to do in terms of putting words on paper, which is something at least.
