Cure Narrative 58: En Prise

Season: Smile Precure

Characters: Joker

Summary: Be it a queen or a pawn, they were naught but preys in his hands.

Joker thought himself lucky to have overheard such delicious information.

"If your dreams can come true, then I'll be really happy for you-kuru!" "This is... for the best, isn't it...?" "I ain't gonna cry, we gotta send Reika off with a smile."

Ahahahaa! How fun, how fun! He snickered inwardly. A game where both sides back away further and further until they fall off the chessboard and shatter into worthless shards, what a very human thing to do.

Her eyes were hesitating, and it was echoed by her missed arrow. Her aim wavered, just like her heart.

Perhaps she was worthy to be called a Queen under ordinary circumstances, but now he was practically shivering with satisfaction as he saw her shrink into a mere Pawn, she was his to capture.

His dart pierced the centre of the target as his fanged grin pierced what was left of her defence.

He would've licked his lips out of enjoyment at the sight of her fearful visage, but he contained himself tactfully, for the show had yet to begin.

Teleporting her to his dimension, now, the helpless, clueless lamb was truly in the big bad wolf's claws, just one little squeeze and beautiful wine-red blood would drip right onto his tongue. Just one little push and he would tip the balance of her ever so perfectly composed self.

Even now she tried to keep up her calm facade, transforming as if she had confidence that she could prevail.

"How impetuous," he commented merrily, "I was merely about to congratulate your success in securing a prestigious once-in-a-lifetime chance to study in London."

She narrowed her eyes, confounded.

He savoured every second of laying out his rationale like savouring a meticulously prepared feast. Arduous efforts were made to hunt down this disgustingly virtuous little lamb after all, what a waste to chomp her down whole. What a waste to devour her without wringing out the rawest, most delicious, most human parts of her, those would ferment into fine liquor for his pleasure.

"I, for one, am most delighted by the path you have chosen, Reika-san. A Precure removing herself from my deck of cards without my interference is something I could only dream of — that is, if I ever dream, haha!" he laughed as if it were funny.

There, her cue to wriggle out of his grasp, and he shall have her know that she could only sink deeper.

"Why bother fighting? You have no intention to continue being a Precure, now do you?"

Humans are such greedy creatures, he remarked. Therefore making choices — making sacrifices is so very vexing for them.

"Then, shall I presume, you will let this opportunity slip through your fingers?"

Not to mention how she, in particular, had a tendency to care for others more than herself. She had made herself a prey terribly easy to be led astray.

"How wonderfully cruel of you to disappoint them?"

Your game is delightfully simplistic enough for me to manipulate, dear Cure Beauty.

She continued resisting, futile as it may be. Yet her furrowed brow, her uncertain eyes, her tensed posture all betrayed her, exposing the cavity in her determination.

"W-wh..y...!?" The ice cracked. She gasped, hanging onto her last breath as she sank into the dark ocean. Her transformation undone, and she fell to her knees in defeat.

Checkmate.

With a wicked, victorious grin plastered over his face, he raised his rapier, ready to paint it with crimson, "Game over, Cure Beauty."

End of Chapter 58

A/N: I don't really have a point in this chapter, I guess you can say it's just a little practice for mood-building and imagery.