Author's Note: Not much to say, but I must put something stupid here. Ehem! Here goes. . . CHEEEEEEESSSEEEE!!
To the Reviewers:
YukiShinoya444: Yes, my pathetic humor has made you laugh! I feel quite honored! Also, NEVER put it past Yada to go insane at the mention of ghosts. It's hinted EXTREMELY in every episode where the girl's class visits Yamauchi-kun's temple. ('cough' episode30 'cough) I didn't erase your review, I swear! Who do want to show up? Hmm. . .(I thinky I've got an idea)
--
Panning from above, if the haunted house had not donned a roof, anybody observing this particular room from a birds-eye view would have seen a perfect cylindrical shape that reflected things everywhere and anywhere. As of now, disfigured reflections of two sixth graders were the room's new pieces of work to display, the floor mimicking the smooth ripples of a pond. There was no natural nor artificial light burning inside its confines, but the two partner's pupils had already adjusted to the limited brightness, widening to accommodate any trickle of moonlight that seeped through the cracked walls.
"Hmm, how very.. mysterious..." Kaori lowered her glasses and traced the opposing finger of her reflection, bringing it back up to find a miniscule amount of dust lodged just under her fingernail. Tamaki, whom was beside her, copied the reporter's actions. The blonde brought her digit to her nose, briefly sniffing it and making a prissy face of disgust, then hastily wiping the dirt on her forearm.
"Ugh, how revolting. How do those American's consider this-" she jabbed her curled fingers at the ceiling, combing through a lock of sunshine curls halfway, "-to be entertainment?! I can't even begin to fathom it."
Considering Tamaki's words, Kaori's eyebrows crinkled to the center of her forehead. Placing an out-turned wrist onto her hip, the newspaper columnist skated over to one of the tall, antique mirrors that were seemingly pasted to wood like wallpaper. Balling her other hand into a fist, she rapped her knuckles on the glass three times, which resulted in three cleanly muted 'ca-dump's. The glass didn't waver at the contact, leading Kaori to believe that perhaps the mirrors were actually the real wall, as opposed to leaning against it or being mounted upon boards of wood.
"You know what, I think that this room.." she paused to look at the room's universal ceiling of man-made ice, "-is entirely made up of these mirrors. How could Asuka-san afford something like this?" She spoke the more prying sentence to herself. The unanswerable remark tumbled through her skull as she tried to figure out how the American blonde could have put this together in such a short amount of time. Last time she checked, Maho-Dou was the girly, fuzzy wonderland of every magical trinket known to man, errr... woman. But this dangerously spooky fun-house that appeared out of nowhere and stole Maho-Dou's image had proven otherwise.
"It could be worth a scoop, no, maybe a side-scoop.. but I have a feeling that no one would believe me..." The reported rambled with less and less incentive to use the information she had deduced. Her hand hooked around her bottom lip and she tugged at her collar, itching to just whip out her camera, flash a picture of Reika's face, and pretend that she was an evil apparition in disguise who only followed the brave and heroic Kaori to drag her down to her doom. The reporter could easily envision it and considering Tamaki's track record with keeping friends and that annoyingly witchy laugh, she was positive that almost anyone would assume it a fact. But, Kaori had always been much more sparing with Tamaki (she really didn't get that irritated with the spoiled girl, contrary to popular thought) so that utterly brilliant idea was out of the question.
Tamaki didn't even bother trying to catch Kaori's scheming ramblings and was instead searching the room for an exit. Every nook, every corner appeared to be blocked with several guises of herself. They all stared back at her with that same punctilious scowl, immensely frustrated that they were getting nowhere. She spun around endlessly on her heels, resisting the urge rip her hair out in frustration.
Kaori had eventually decided (much to her chagrin) that making up some story about Momoko being an American millionaire wasn't worth it. She clopped depressingly over to Tamaki, her irises dizzily twirling from watching the blonde orbit for way too long. The reporter opened her mouth to say something, before she was harshly interrupted.
"ARRRRGGHH!! What is with this disgusting place!" the rich girl snarled, tense hands crumpling into violent claws in front of her nose. The frightening stance rebounded along the walls of the room, causing Kaori to jump at all the sudden movement. The floor beneath their feet rumbled as if it was protesting at the loud noise.
Kaori was worried that this place had really driven her friend to the edge of insanity and right back with a newfound violent streak. She cautiously took a step back from her hysterical companion, who had begun to twitch like she was possessed by a demon.
"AAHHHHH!!" Reika screeched so viciously that Kaori could of sworn she heard the distinct sound of windows shattering. The brunette's feet slid apart to stop herself from falling into the rocking mantelpiece of a haunted house.
When had it started doing that?!
"Uh, Tamaki-san?!" She yelled shrilly over the blonde banshee's screams.
"Eh? What is it Kaori-san?" the blonde answered perkily.
Shimakura's eyebrows hiked way too high on her forehead than was physically possible at Tamaki's immediate change in mood. What was she, bipolar or something?! Witnessing this new evidence, Kaori was beginning to believe the rumors.
There was no time for that though, as both girl's pupils widened to the size of saucer plates once they saw the swirling behemoth of haze that accelerated toward them with threatening speed. Kaori and Tamaki heaved out of the way without even bothering to prevent themselves from gliding out of control along the fake ice. Reika crashed into her reflection, shudders zooming through her spine at every incoherent wail and cry that rushed out of the stampeding tornado.
"Scoop! Scoop! It's the scoop of the century!" The reporter skidded to a stall and excitedly whipped out her camera, snapping pictures at every angle. Tamaki flinched at the beams of light, watching the whirling gargantuan leave just and fast as it had come, horrified at its shrieks of "MUDDIN GIKA!!".
Tamaki's 'oh'ed' as the monster melded right through the mirrored wall diagonal from her cowering frame. The room fell silent immediately after it vanished. Kaori shuffled over to the blonde, her face alit with newfound joy.
"This story will be AMAZINGonce it hits the racks!" Kaori 'whooshed' her arms into a rainbow shape, forming an invisible banner. "American Holiday Potentially Dangerous? Asuka's Plan, and the Truth Behind Halloween!" the reporter squealed on the spot, interesting paragraphs and frightening columns already flooding into her mind. Tamaki's honey eyes were glued to the wall.
Well, at least we now know how to get out of here.
Reika practically cried in happiness at the prospect.
--
"Poppu-chan, why did you let them pass by?" Lala, who was disguised in her cat transformation, poked the little witch in the rib with her paw. They were hiding inside an attic cavity that was similar to an air duct. Poppu was dressed in her apprentice witch uniform, flattened to the floor on her belly with Lala sitting beside her. Both were carefully peering down the zebra striped floorboards, for reasons you will soon find out.
"Momo-chan instructed me specifically to give the signal once I see Hazuki-chan come through here with a boy. No one else," the second-grader replied with loyalty. She squeezed her poron tighter as another group passed underneath, loosening her grip once she saw that Hazuki wasn't among them.
This is getting tedious, she thought, breathing a drawn out sigh.
Two very familiar (and gigantic) odango slowly strolled into view a moment later and Poppu dipped her head closer to the crack in response. There was no doubt that it was her clumsy older sister, but this time, Doremi wasn't alone.
A mid-height boy with spiky blue hair was in her sister's company. Poppu guessed that he was probably a jock of some sort, her gaze scanning over his sporty t-shirt and the number '10' that was printed in large font across the front. The pink-haired witch covered every inch of the boy she could see, small hands pressing urgently on the wooden panels.
He seems average enough, nothing noteworthy. Must have just been some randomly chosen partner for Doremi, or... wait a minute...
Poppu's eyes sliced into the space between her sister and the boy, landing on the two hands in the center. They were linked. Doremi, her romantically inept sister, was holding hands with a guy. This is DO-RE-MI we're talking about. Poppu froze.
No... it can't be, it just can't be. My sister?! Impossible, there must be a rational explanation! . . . b-but she.. holding hands... with him... it can't be true. But it is.
"Doremi has a boyfriend!?" Poppu yelled aloud, nearly banging her head on the low ceiling.
Lala quickly slapped her two paws over Poppu's big mouth, but it was already too late. Doremi's chin shot upward and she squinted at the striped ceiling. Kotake gave her a weird look, failing to understand the distant sound. By now their hands had become so accustomed to the feel of foreign skin that they didn't even notice... well.. for a while.
Warm.
Kotake's object of attention changed once he went cross-eyed to the inconspicuously intimate hands. And then... he came down with the common case of 'mortifying chicken pox'.
"Gah!" He ripped his fingers from Doremi's so strongly that the witch staggered backward, clumsily smacking to the ground. Dizzy dials swirled around her face until she regained her senses and growled predatorily at the soccer-player.
"Wha'd you push me for?!"
Normally Kotake would have choked himself from laughter at witnessing Doremi fall flat on her butt, but when it was his fault... well that wasn't part of Kotake's nature. He could never find it in his heart to shove someone around without a reason, especially Doremi, no matter how powerfully he tried to deny it. The title of 'sweetheart' was practically the opposite of macho though.. but none of the guys were around. It was times like these when his 'sweetheart' core tended to emerge from its murky depths.
"KOTAKE!" Doremi exploded again, angry that he was ignoring her.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it, I swear!" He held out an apologetic hand to help her up.
Doremi scrutinized the hand as if it might bite her. Was this really Kotake? The ghosts must have abducted him to their spaceship and operated on his scrawny little body... wait.. wasn't that aliens? She pouted with confusion but took the assistance gratefully, allowing Kotake to hoist her onto her feet.
She shook her head defiantly. "If you didn't mean it, then what did you do it for?" Her lower lip bubbled outward and she hastily turned her face so that Kotake could only see the simmering profile of her cheeks.
We were holding hands, dangit!... but do I expect myself to admit that? . . .
No. Way.
"W-well you were staring at the stupid ceiling for no reason, so I thought I'd wake you up Dojimi," he childishly defended, completely contradicting his earlier statement. In reality, when he called her Dojimi... it was sorta more of a pet name than a term of dislike.. though no one needed to know that. It was best that she just assume it was his trademark insult he designed especially for her.
"What do you mean, stupid?! I thought you said you didn't mean it!" Doremi fired back, a volcano erupting all around her.
"Yeah, well, maybe I lied!" Kotake countered, butting into her face like a stubborn bull.
Lied about lying.
"Yeah, well. . . maybe your just the stupidest jerk on the planet!!"
She provocatively yanked down her eyelid and shoved out her tongue. "Pii-te!!"
Crossing her arms snugly over her chest, she forcibly turned her back on him and started marching towards a doorway draped with softly blinking pumpkins.
"Hmph!! I don't have time for this!" Her voice barely managed to grab at the snooty note.
Without even the tiniest brake, she tore the doorknob to the side and stomped out of the room. The door closed itself behind her, the Halloween vegetables mocking Kotake with their absolutely silly buck-teeth. His rock-hard fists trembled and he bit his lip so sharply that a tingle of blood started welling up under the surface.
Yeah, well. . . maybe your just the stupidest jerk on the planet!!
It jabbed him in the stomach with the grumbling of nausea, fueled his raging anger, those words. What right did dumb Dojimi have to call him that? Huh? What freakin' right?! Stupid, stupid girl!!
"BAKA DOJIMI!!" he spewed at the jackolanterns.
The house jolted under his pounding sneakers. Grumbling and cursing up a storm, he purposely plowed to the passageway next to a scarecrow, avoiding everything to do with that wretched Harukaze.
I hope Harukaze is terrified all alone, with no one to protect her. Serves her right.
Poppu watched from above, feeling the negative energy waft through the floorboards like a wart-faced witches sinister cauldron. It pressured her and Lala even more into the compact space, reminding Poppu of camping out in a sleeping bag with swarms of flies and gnats constantly nipping away at her sensitive skin.
So then. . . he couldn't be her boyfriend after that. I hope Doremi will be fine on her own . . .
A muffled scream propelled through the oak-wood duct, slamming through Poppu's eardrums. Looks like the worst came true.
Kotake's hair splayed all around and his collarbone cracked as his gaze snapped over to the gut-twisting call. It indecisively zipped back and forth between the cool metal beneath his hand and the snickering jackolanterns. His heart rate quickened. The same scream soared through the premises again and Kotake leaned forward longingly, one hand still anchored to the doorknob. The blood organ was hammering nails into his ribs one after another, one after another till it was unbearable. In a fit of worry he madly scrambled for the door where Doremi had deserted him. Yanking the wooden barrier away, he busted into the darkness, sneering at the cackling pumpkin heads on his way out.
I lied. I lied so badly.
--
"MAJO RIKA!!"
Scrrreeee!! Yada swung around a stagnant column, Hazuki gracelessly tripping along behind him. Masaru impulsively saved her by the hand and they instantly changed directions, flying down the hallway they had turned into, the ghost still hot on their flaming heels.
"PUUUDDIIIING!!" The ghost certainly hadn't ceased it's cries of pursuit, prompting the childhood pair to never stop or slow down in their ambling dash of pure terror.
"MAJO RIKA, MAJO RIKA!!" Obscure doorways had become only blurred lines of railing as far as Yada and Hazuki could see, enveloped in the clouds of dust they left in their wake. Nothing would prevent them from escaping the ghost. Nothing.
"MAJO RIKA!!"
Suddenly, two arms emerged from one of the doors and snatched the two speeding maniacs out of thin air. Hazuki and Masaru took the time to switch from chanting the witch frog's name to shrieking their lungs out as they were thrust none-too-gently into a pitch black room. The sound of a door slamming blew-up throughout the darkness, along with footsteps that became gradually louder as they approached the dazed partners.
"WHO AR-" A surprisingly petite hand covered the violinist's open mouth.
"Shhhh", a voice hissed softly to the witch. Hazuki blinked and let out the frantic remark with short, wispy breaths into the hand. When it was apparent that Hazuki was calm enough to control herself, the anonymous rescuer removed it's gag from her lips and shifted into a squat so that it was close enough for Yada and Hazuki to just make out the silhouette. A bob of full hair appeared to curl under the figure's chin, and it was smaller than both of them in size.
"It's Mutsumi. You guys okay?" Hazuki was astonished for a minute at the wrestler in-training's bravery in rescuing them. Mutsumi scooted over to what seemed to be the middle of the confined space they were in and Hazuki moved with her. Yada chose to stay propped against the wall, as they were already so crammed in the space that it didn't really matter anyway. He shuddered involuntarily at the vague incantation of 'pudding' the ghost was singing from outside the door. It was still searching for where it's tasty-looking victims had disappeared to.
"We're... all right. How on earth did you end up in here, Mutsumi-chan?" Hazuki managed to suppress her unsteady voice, which wanted to stutter out of fear that they would get caught.
The smaller brunette became downcast, though Hazuki couldn't see it. "Another ghost chased us all the way to this hallway, just like what happened to you, except ours was WAY bigger. Lumpy too. . ." She didn't continue to describe the apparition, the pity of a friend settling into her features instead. A frightened sniffle arose the corner opposite Yada, dying down to a suffering whimper a second later.
"Oh? Someone else. . ." Masaru spoke quietly. He shifted to the noise until the shadow of a shivering, balled-up back came up in his path.
Locked in the corner near an elongated broom was Nagato. Yada could tell easily by the boyish crop of crimson hair that tufted just above the black crest of her shirt. Reaching out, he felt himself be dunked in empathy for the shy girl, but couldn't bring himself to disturb her.
He felt Hazuki brush up beside him, placing a tactful hand on Kayoko's shoulder when he could not. Carefully, as not to scare her, Hazuki nudged the red-head's torso with her thumb to clue her in that the brunette was right there to help.
"N-Nagato-san?"
Nagato sobbed woefully in response.
Mutsumi decided to speak for her. "We were in this living room place. The chairs and photographs were all covered in cobwebs and stuff and there was even this huge grand piano. Plus, there was this. . . humming noise coming from this wooden box. It looked like a treasure chest, so we thought 'Why not open it? But. . . then the ghost came out an chased us all the way out here," she said in one long anecdote, crouching around Kayoko next to Hazuki. The three stared sympathetically at the shiver of her shoulder blades, thinking of any way they could comfort her.
"I-I. . ." Kayoko said through the hushed weeping in her throat. Her companions looked up with joy that she was finally talking to them. "I d-don't u-understand why A-Asuka-san would invite us to s-such a sc-scary p-place." She heaved with a strained gulp, rubbing away the tears with her wrist. Hazuki understood that it was difficult to disclose your feelings about something through tears. The lump in your mouth makes it stutter and suck in air it doesn't need, interrupting you when you try to speak coherently.
"We've been trapped in here for who knows how long," Mutsumi said dispassionately.
The group drowned into a chorus of 'hmmm's, musing over a possible means of escape.
Hazuki soothed Kayoko with a rhythmic strum along her shoulder, trying to overcome her own fears and transfer to someone else's. It was astonishing, how difficult such a thing could be.
Then why had it come so naturally with Masaru-kun? How inconvenient.
The brunette's lips plummeted as she winced. A sing-songed cry of delight droned through her spine, and accounting for Yada accidentally elbowing her in the ribs, he felt it too.
How are we going to get out of here?!
Masaru banged his foot on the floor.
"I fouuunnndddd PUUUUDDIIIING!?" A creak of horror hissed from the doorknob, which was barred with a baseball bat (Momo-chan, you devil, you).
Kayoko finally turned around to look, her face pink and splotchy, but dry of any extreme sadness. Hazuki and Masaru blanched and huddled together. Yada gulped.
Mutsumi flashed a frown over her helpless friends, instinctively falling into her trademark fighting stance.
"Here goes . . ."
Boldly, Mutsumi sliced her arms into a living barrier in defense of Hazuki, Yada, and Kayoko. The other three gasped at her toweringly fearless move.
"Yada-kun, grab Kayoko. Make sure you get her to safety, or I promise you'll be the first to have a taste of 'old faithful' and 'Mr. Whammy'. Hazuki-chan, you hold the door." Mutsumi fired out orders, urgent firmness discernible in her voice.
Yada nodded weakly and carefully hauled himself and the red-head to their toes. A trickle of cold sweat dangled on Hazuki's forehead as she scuffled to the door. She gripped the handle, shivering every time the wood bounced. The war cries were getting louder.
"Mutsumi-chan?" Kayoko's voice whimpered.
Mutsumi spread her legs wide and winked at the shy girl via her shoulder. She bumped her chest and shot the three a thumbs up.
"Isn't this what Candy would do? Don't give it a flying thought."
Ready for action, Mutsumi brandished her knuckles after cracking them threateningly, stare training on Hazuki.
"On three. 1 . . . 2 . . ."
Fujiwara . . . be careful.
"THREE!!"
Hazuki wrenched open the door and Mutsumi rocketed at the yowling mass of lumps. They catapulted into the hallway, rolling out of the way in a tumbling mixture of 'TORA!'s and violently flailing limbs.
Taking their fleeting opportunity, the classmates scuttled past the cat-fight and once they reached the halfway mark, bolted for the exit at the end of the hallway, Yada and Kayoko in the lead with a bellowing Hazuki bringing up the rear.
"WHY MAJO RIKA, WHY??"
Yep, the sophisticated brunette had lost it. Not like Yada was any better.
Did it want vanilla or chocolate?
The world will never know.
The threesome flew around the corner; directly into the most unfortunate path fate could have provided. Oh dear . . .
"TORA!!" Mutsumi cried repeatedly for extra steam as she wrestled the evil apparition to the floor. She slammed it's arms into the wall and straddled the noodly legs underneath her so it couldn't even fit in a surprise kick to the shins. The ghost screamed and whined like a punished infant, the sheet plastering to where it's face should be. The fabric was growing an ugly wet spot.
The monster was bawling.
Mutsumi rushed her hand over one of it's puffy appendages, feeling the softness of hair.
OH. CRUD.
A very familiar face innocently popped out from under the uselessly rumpled sheet. Two bubbly vanilla eyes threatened to close and burst into fountains.
"B-But Hana-chan only did what Momo said! MOMO SAID!! MOMO SAID!!"
Building up to one final break-down, the hyper witch sniffled and sprayed waterfalls down her cheeks, alerting Mutsumi to stay frozen with disbelief.
Mutsumi threw back her hands. "Oh god. OH GOD!! I'm so sorry!" Desperately waving her arms, she flickered left and right, trying to console the beyond-help blonde, but really looking for a way to shut her up.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!"
Locked inside her personal hideout, Poppu heard a second scream.
She stuck her hand to the side and dragged over a chrome walkie-talkie. Lala brushed her paw curiously over the antenna.
"Bottle Fairy to Peach Girl. Do you read me?"
"Loud and clear. Any escapades?" Momoko's voice crackled dejectedly, part A of her plan thoroughly foiled before it even happened.
"First of all, why are we ripping off anime names?"
"1. It's classy. 2. . . well there is no number two, so deal with it."
Poppu rolled her eyes.
"It appears we have a problem. Pudding has been captured, and my sister has gotten herself in trouble, like alwa-"
"I told you to call her Sailor Moon! We gotta sound professional."
Poppu scoffed at 'professional'. This was no time for coherent English.
"Whatever. 'Sailor Moon' is being an idiot."
A chord of mumbles was all that replied. Poppu shook her head like she was too good for all these childish games.
Momoko sighed through the mouthpiece and Poppu stared at it expectantly.
"I guess we have no choice. Commence with plan F; Operation: Funny Chicken."
Now that was the one genius thing Momoko had suggested all night.
Poppu pressed close to her poron.
"Pipito Purito Puritan Peperuto!"
--
On the other side of the walkie-talkie (thats fun to say!), Aiko face-palmed.
"Momo-chan, sometimes your weirdness exceeds all meaning."
Onpu giggled at the three blurred shadow through the window.
Aiko groaned again. Onpu was in on this the whole time? Or had the naughty little thoughts buried inside her brain overthrow all common sense and sensitive meaning?
It was probably the latter.
"Remember Onpu-chan, a Siren!" Momoko brandished her finger at the singer as if to cue the gothic spotlight.
Onpu's lips smirked with the microphone.
--
Notes:
Pudding- Pudding Fong from Tokyo Mew Mew.
TORA!- Japanese war cry.
Kayoko Nagato- Girl with school refusal. Doremi's friend, appears in the fourth season (Ojamajo Doremi DOKKAN!)
