Piyo the Clown
By
K-Chan
The white-faced, rainbow-haired driver of the garishly painted mini van was certainly less than prepared for ambush of any sort, much less instigated by the dark haired, baboon-pelt clad man. One swipe of a katana, and the squeaking red nose was silenced forever.
Naraku chuckled slightly, in a much better mood than before. Now, he thought, the corners of his mouth turning down somewhat, where was Aoimaru?
A gale of giggles erupted from somewhere off to his right. Setting his mouth in a firm line, Naraku proceeded towards the noise and a sign that read "Happy Tykes Daycare". Where genki sounds were in abundance, Aoimaru was sure to be near.
He cursed himself for helping her to restore her eyesight. There had been no end to her exploration since, and when she had discovered the old Bone-Eater's well that could carry her into the future . . . well, it was all over then.
As the sounds of laughter grew louder, Naraku was suddenly halted by a slight tug on the end of his pelt. He turned sharply to see a small boy with one hand clutching the white fur and two fingers of the other hand shoved deep into the cavernous opening of his mouth. The pink lips made a slurping sound and a line of drool had formed a puddle on the front of the boy's shirt. Naraku felt his stomach turn inside out as he noticed the strawberry jam-colored handprint that the boy's chubby fist had smeared on the back of the white pelt.
"Mithter," the child lisped, "can you take me to the potty?"
"Go away!" Naraku hissed, taking a step back from the vile being before him. The child screwed up his face, and Naraku knew that he was going to regret his words.
"But I gotta go!" the boy protested, then wailed, "You're mean! Mommeeeeeeeeeeee!"
At this, a throng of over twenty or so more the little humans swarmed around Naraku, accompanied by a hassled young woman who looked like she could spit fire and shoot blades from her silvery fox-blue eyes, and none other than . . .
"PIYO-SAN!" Aoimaru squealed, leaping into Naraku's flailing arms for a great hug as only she could give. The villain staggered backwards, gasping for breath. It had grown uncomfortably warm beneath all that fur, and he grit his teeth against his nickname, Piyo-san. Aoimaru had given it to him the day he had met her and told her that his name was Tomodachi, which she had mistaken for Tamagatchi. Precision of language had never been Naraku's strong point. To his relief and shock, Aoimaru slid off of him, taking the pelt with her and leaving Naraku feeling exposed.
"What kind of a clown are you?" the auburn-haired woman spat, setting the child in her
arms on the ground and giving Naraku a once-over. "You'd better know some damn good tricks and how to make some sweet balloon animals, sir, because your costume, or lack thereof, is less than impressive."
Aoimaru went wide-eyed. "Piyo-san . . . you're a clown?" The quarter-youkai bit the
knuckles of her left hand in a failing attempt to smother her giggles. "It's Piyo the Clown!"
"Now just a minute—" the indignant Naraku began, but sweat-dropped as the young woman with Aoimaru gave him a glare to spook the dead. "Oh, all right!" he reluctantly agreed, wishing to hell by this point that he hadn't killed the real clown only moments before. 'It's time I began to give serious consideration to the consequences of my actions,' Naraku chastised himself.
"Right then," Naraku began, tugging at the collar of his kimono. "For my first trick, I . . . uh, I will need the aid of my lovely assistant, Aoimaru!" The purple-haired girl wasted no time in making her way towards Naraku's side.
"This is all your fault," Naraku growled at her as she gave the twenty-some odd faces of the audience a huge wave. "If you hadn't run off—again, mind you—I wouldn't be in this mess!"
"Oh, don't worry, Piyo-san!" Aoimaru assured him. "This will be fun, and K-Chan's really nice!"
Naraku scratched his head. "I thought K-Chan was the author of this pathetic excuse for a comedic tale," he argued.
"She is," Aoimaru agreed, "but she's also that woman over there," she added, pointing to the girl who seemed to be in charge. Naraku suddenly developed a severe cramp.
"So the writer is the one in charge?"
"Yeah, that's usually how it works," Aoimaru answered casually, blowing the fluff from a dandelion in Naraku's face, which made him cough and sputter, much to the satisfaction of K-Chan the author, who also happens to work in a daycare and write stories about it during naptime. She cracked her knuckles and wrists and continued to write.
"Miss K-Chan, I still have to potty!" the grubby little boy from before protested. K-Chan smiled at the child, then changed her visage to a scowl as she looked up at Naraku and his counterpart.
"Aoimaru, you and he are in charge. Try not to have any crises in the next five minutes." And, taking him by the hand, she led the wailing boy inside.
Naraku stared after her helplessly. "Aoimaru!" he bemoaned. A little girl up front hiccuped and began to cry. "Shut up, you diminutive brat," Naraku threatened, disgruntled. The girl, a cute blonde, only screamed louder.
"Hey, that's not nice, Mister Clown!" a bold voice challenged. "You hurt my sister's feelings!"
Touched, Aoimaru picked up the sobbing girl and placed into Naraku's arms. "Apologize, Piyo-san!"
"Don't you start!" Naraku began to reprimand Aoimaru, but was soon interrupted by a series of sharp blows to his groin as the child kicked in horror at being in the arms of this frightful "clown". (*Note: this girl went on to have what is colloquially referred to as clownophobia, which in turn bred her mistrust of the human race all together until the poor thing committed a bizarre suicide that involved two forklifts and a paper clip. But enough said, that's another day's tale.)
Naraku doubled over, dropping the child to add insult to injury. Angry now, the girl grabbed Naraku's long hair hanging down on the ground and yanked for all she was worth.
"I want my mommy!" she demanded in a fierce way that only a two-year-old can achieve. For good measure, she kicked her legs again and waved her hands in the air violently as though swatting away an army-division sized swarm of mosquitoes. Naraku, who had fallen to his knees, now felt the tiny fists bat at his face. Yelping like a kicked dog, he scooted away backwards on his butt to escape the thrashing.
"What kind of minions are these?" he bemoaned. "And I thought I had the ultimate killing machine in Juuroumaru!" Aoimaru crouched beside him and watched the bruises swell across his face.
"Ouch—that'll leave a mark for sure, mm-hmm," she informed him, happy as always to be the bearer of bad news. Naraku looked over at her and kind of groaned.
"Is that really all you can say to me right now?"
Before Aoimaru could say any more, whether she wanted to or not, she was interrupted by the arrival of another pudgy boy. Naraku glared at him distrustfully. But the boy only smiled shyly and extended his small finger towards the cowering Naraku.
"Here, Mister Piyo-clown," the boy offered. Not thinking twice, Naraku accepted what it was the little child handed to him, then inspected it closely, only to discover, much to his chagrin, that it was a booger.
"Good God, that's disgusting!" Naraku exploded, along with other choice four-letter expletives. As for the boy, he clapped his hands with glee and ran to K-Chan, who had emerged with the distressed toddler from earlier.
"Miss K-Chan, the clown is on the ground!" the newest stripling announced. Softened and a touch concerned, K-Chan waded through the two-year-old bodies and stood over Naraku, who had developed a serious nervous tick in his eyelid. As soon as he saw K-Chan, he went wide-eyed and groveled at her feet.
"Sweet lady, I have a newfound respect for you. Please, allow me to buy you a drink later, it's the very least I could do—but please, please, please, let me leave, now!" Naraku pleaded, on the verge of tears. Before K-Chan could respond, Aoimaru had snatched Naraku away by the back of the collar and was carrying him far from that hellish place of misery.
"I'll call you!" he shouted after K-Chan. Aoimaru promptly dropped him and smacked him upside the head.
"You belong to me," she reminded him harshly, then squealed, "Hey, a doughnut shop! Whee!" and took off. Naraku drew his bedraggled body to his feet and trudged wearily after his companion. More trouble was assured.
THE END