Warnings: Violence, but no detailed descriptions of gore.
Lucky Child
Chapter 90:
"She Puts on a Delightful Show"
As roar of the crowd swelled into a confused crescendo, my feet carried me forward toward Shizuru in a daze. Koto grabbed the mic off the ground in my periphery, but I paid her little mind. I only have eyes for Shizuru—Shizuru and her wild abandonment of canon that had knocked me for so hard a loop, it was a wonder I'd managed to stay standing. My knees shook as they carried me forward, but somehow I kept upright.
When I reached her (though I wasn't sure what, exactly, it was I planned to do or say upon arrival) Shizuru smirked. "Hey," she said. "Good thing my baby bro is sleeping, huh?"
"Shizuru," I said, because her name was all I could manage.
"He wouldn't like this much." She shrugged, stoic as ever. "Oh, well. Payback for him coming to this tournament in the first place, I guess."
"Shizuru!" I said, with more force that time.
And behind me, someone else joined in. "Shizuru, honestly!" Botan said as she trotted over to stand at my elbow, glaring at Shizuru with livid magenta eyes. "What are you thinking, making a request like that?"
Shizuru shrugged again. "I'm thinking it's about time we put the committee on the defensive, instead of the other way around."
"That's all well and good, but this tournament is dangerous, and you just—"
"I can fight, Botan."
Botan stopped talking. She stared unblinking at Shizuru without a word, and somehow the bellow of the crowd around us fell away. It might have been my imagination, but I swear I heard footsteps approach at my back just before Yusuke and the Masked Fighter drew near. Vaguely I noticed Hiei standing off to one side, too, watching Yukina as she patched up Kuwabara, and even more vaguely I wondered where Kurama had gotten off to, but I didn't have time to voice the query aloud.
"I know you can fight, Shizuru," Botan said, rubbing at her temples. "But this tournament is—"
"Is not out of my paygrade," Shizuru cut in. "Trust me. I can handle whatever they throw my way."
Yusuke asked, "You're sure?"
Shizuru nodded, reaching into her pocket for a cigarette. "Wouldn't have volunteered if I wasn't," she muttered as she lit up.
"Because we could use all the help we can get," said Yusuke with a roguish grin. "And from what Kuwabara's told me, you don't sound like a slouch—but I guess that's what happens when you train with a former Spirit Detective."
Botan dropped a fist into her opposite palm. "That's right!" she said, clouds behind her eyes clearing just a tad. "You trained with Sanada Kuroko! And I suppose that does make me feel a little better, but—"
She didn't get to finish. Just then, the PA system gave a musical chime, and the same cool voice from earlier said, "Request denied."
The effect was immediate—at least on everyone but me. I was already having an out of body experience, so the crowd's sadistic jeering sounded as distant as the moon from where I stood. Botan's exclamation of shock and Atsuko's curse of surprise were like far-off cicada chirps; it was only Yusuke's incensed yodel of "Say what?!" that sounded any degree of near.
Shizuru, like me, stayed silence. Her eyes only narrowed as they trained on one of the speakers suspended above the stadium, the cigarette hanging from her mouth trailing thin, wispy smoke.
"Team member selection took place prior to the start of the tournament, and that selection process included selecting a team alternate," said the woman over the PA. Her voice betrayed no emotion, instead leaning on a calm and impartial tone that somehow grated on my nerves. "Since no alternate was chosen for Team Urameshi during the official selection window, we will not allow you to retroactively select—"
"Great," Yusuke said, glaring at the sky. "They're trying to fuck us over again, aren't they?"
"—a backup fighter. To do so would be to give Team Urameshi an unfair advantage over their competitors, which would make a mockery of the rules of this tournament."
Yusuke did a double take. "Make a mockery of the—?" He shook his fist at the sky. "But you were just messing with the rules to screw us, you hippo-chips!"
"Hypocrites," I muttered.
He rolled his eyes, but he didn't take them off of wherever he imagine the committee to be sitting amongst the clouds. "Whatever they are, it smells as bad as last week's underwear!"
Shizuru made a sound of displeasure from between her teeth. Turning on her heel, she walked away from our knot of friends toward Koto, from whom she grabbed the microphone—but Koto didn't appear to notice the theft. Her eyes were screwed up tight, fingers resting on her temples, mouth moving as if she murmured something under her breath. She didn't react at all as Shizuru raised the mic to her mouth once more.
"On the contrary," Shizuru said, voice booming through the speakers overhead. "I think it would give your precious tournament committee the advantage over us."
Whatever I'd been expecting her to say, that ranked below the bottom of the list. The others appeared to feel the same way, because just about all of our heads whipped toward Shizuru in shock. She held firm, though, staring at the speakers without expression as the roar of the watching demons subsided into shocked quiet.
"You don't know my last name, do you?" she said, voice cold and dispassionate. "Don't worry. I won't make you guess. My full name is Kuwabara Shizuru—sister of the fighter on his back over there." She jerked a thumb at the aforementioned Kuwabara before shoving her hand into the pocket of her slacks; the demons in the stands began to murmur, the thrum of their voices like ten thousand thrumming bees on the sweet spring air. "Think about it," Shizuru said with a smoldering grin, one I didn't understand. "How frazzled do you think my little brother will be, knowing I'd be just one death away from entering the ring with all these big, bad demons, huh?"
Silence reigned, and to hear a crowd as large as the one around us fall silent is surreal indeed. It felt, just then, like we stood at the epicenter of the earth, the whole of existence pivoting around our single point in space and time—like the arena was the crux upon which the whole world turned, all its weight bearing down around us in the form of watching eyes and silent lips. It was dizzying, but Shizuru merely smirked, and in the process she showed every one of her straight, white teeth.
"I'd say appointing me the alternate would upset the entire balance of this team," she said, and her lips lifted into a subtle, mocking smile. "So how bout it? You gonna take this advantage by the balls, or are you gonna let it slip through your fingers like a bunch of cowards?"
More silence followed.
And then the demons began to scream.
The screamed that the committee should kill the human fighter's sister. They screamed for the committee to let her become the alternate so someone could kill Shizuru in the ring. They screamed hundreds of terrible things, each overlapping to form a thunder of malice and bloodthirst so chilling the hair on the back of my neck began to rise—but surely even the low-level demons here weren't so stupid. Surely they didn't think the Tournament Committee would rise to Shizuru's obvious bait. That's what she was doing, after all. She was baiting the Committee into doing what she wanted, but there was no way that they would—
The Committee's spokeswoman spoke again. "Regardless of our feelings on the matter," she said, perfunctory as always, "there is no precedent for allowing the appointment of an alternate midway through the tournament proceedings."
The mic lowered, dropping away from Shizuru's thin lips as her hand fell to her side. Yusuke cursed as Botan began to rant about how unfair this was, but I hardly heard her. The things the Committee rep was saying didn't make sense. In the original canon, Sakyo allowed Koenma to become the team's alternate and take Genkai's place after she died just before the final match, and they'd made no mention of registering him as their official alternate ahead of time. That meant it was possible to appoint an alternate late into the game… but Koenma's appointment had been at Sakyo's behest, now hadn't it? Which meant that so long as a high-ranking Dark Tournament official gave their approval, the late appointment of an alternate was possible. But who would give that approval to us now? Unless Sakyo or someone else high up like that signed off on Shizuru's appointment, her wishes were DOA.
The Committee rep's voice took on an air of command, soldiering on without delay. "In light of this," she said, "our final ruling on the matter will be—"
I flinched as a blur of motion rushed past, and then Koto was snatching the mic from Shizuru and bellowing into it, "Wait just one minute, now!"
To my shock, the rep fell quiet. The demons watching fell quiet, too, though a few of them screamed their appreciation for Koto in the lull. Her fanclub, if I had to guess. Koto paid them no mind, though, as she raised the mic to her mouth and pasted on a huge, bright smile.
"In the 1952 Dark Tournament, Team Onigumo had an alternate appointed midway through their third match," she said, one hand flinging out in time with her cheery speech. "The fighter in question was appointed after both the Committee and the adopting team in question witnessed this fighter spar with the remaining members of another team during a ringside brawl, one initiated when the members of one team insulted the tactics of another, resulting in—"
"Officiator Koto," the Committee rep boomed. "Get to the point, please."
"The point is that there is precedent for the retroactive appointment of an alternate after the official appointment period during the Tournament's opening ceremonies," she said—and then her expression sobered, determination setting her jaw quite firm. "To deny the request of Team Urameshi is acting in defiance of Tournament tradition, not in accordance with it. And as a lover of this tournament, I feel compelled to point that out." And then she was grinning again, hand flinging out once more as she declared, "Furthermore, Section F, Article 12 of the Tournament's official rulebook states that the eligibility of fighters, both alternate and principle, is established not through paperwork and regulations, but rather through the blood and sweat they accumulated during the bone breaking rigors of training!" She preened as the demonic crowd roared its approval of her words, waiting for the cacophony to die down before continuing. "It's worded in a rather archaic fashion, I'll give you that, but the meaning is clear." One finger swung toward Shizuru, as theatrical as it was swift. "The only thing Kuwabara Shizuru needs to do to qualify herself is prove that she can hold her own in martial combat! So whaddaya say, folks? If you wanna see this lovely lady bust some faces, let me hear you make some nooooise!"
And with that, she threw up her hands like a rock star egging on her audience. Koto worked the crowd like a true professional, every one of her movements and every word of her speech choreographed for heightened drama and maximum effect. It was no wonder the crowd roared anew at her command, soon picking up the chant of "Let her fight! Let her fight! Let her fight!" in unison. As the entire stadium echoed with their demand, Koto tossed the mic and caught it again, grinning with satisfaction before shooting our little group a sideling look.
"There you go," she said. "They'll deliberate a minute, but it's tough to deny the roar of ten thousand angry demons." A wink, charming and flirtatious. "They'll give their ruling soon, promise."
Yusuke could only stare at her. "Koto…"
"Don't sweat it." Another wink, this one just for Yusuke. "Thanks for sticking up for me earlier with Risho. You're not bad, for a human." And then she winked at me over his shoulder. "Now we just need to sit tight, and—"
"We have our ruling."
I froze—because the words that thundered from the PA did not belong to the smooth-voiced Committee rep from before. And they did not belong to Shizuru, either, or even Koto. These words were cool, the voice masculine—and familiar.
Very, very familiar.
"Koto presents a compelling case." The speaker chuckled, a smile evident in his voice even without seeing him. "And since this tournament exists to facilitate fights, who are we to deny the public what they're here for?"
"Keiko." Shizuru didn't look at me, eyes fixed on the speakers above. "Is that…?"
"Yeah." I gulped. "It is."
Unable to hear us, Sakyo kept speaking. "In ten minutes' time, Kuwabara Shizuru will face five fighters—members of beaten teams looking to redeem themselves in the eyes of the tournament."
Yusuke's jaw dropped, "Five?!"
Botan paled. "Five?!"
Atsuko pumped her fist into the air. "All right! Five!"
"Heh." Shizuru grinned to herself, chin lowering. "Easy."
"If she can beat them all, she will be allowed to fight alongside Team Urameshi as their alternate. Best of luck to her in the next round." Sakyo chuckled again as the demons roared their approval. "And, as always, concessions are available in the lobby. I recommend the popcorn." One final chuckle for the road before the PA switched off with another of its chimes. "Something tells me this round will be to interesting to go without."
As Botan and I fell into twin existential crises, each of us standing in horrified silence at the way Shizuru's actions had played out, Shizuru ran her hands through her hair, flipping out the ends with an understated flourish. No tension entered her shoulders, eyes as lazy and sardonic as they always were—and I wasn't sure if her casual reaction to being informed she'd need to beat five freakin' demons in combat was a good thing or a bad thing. Confidence and overconfidence walk a fine line, as it were.
"Five on one, huh?" Shizuru eventually said. "Even better."
Botan gaped. "How is this better?"
"Well, just getting appointed the alternate would be boring, wouldn't it?"
Botan's expression of horror intensified. "Shizuru, it was bad enough to ask to be named the alternate, but to have to fight for that right? Are you crazy?"
A beat passed as Shizuru thought about it.
And then she just shrugged. "Meh."
"Meh?" Botan repeated. She threw up her hands with a screech of, "What do you mean, 'meh?!'"
Normally I'd get a good laugh at Botan's freak-out (she had the most comical way of overblowing things, the most anime-like of all of the anime characters who'd come to life in this world) but just then, all I felt was ill. I stumbled away, legs buckling as I turned my back on Botan and Shizuru and marched away from them across the ring.
"I mean 'meh,'" Shizuru said, voice following after me like a ghost hell-bent on haunting my ass. "Bout time I got a chance to stretch my legs. And besides. Not too long ago, I saw a certain technique I'd like to try out."
"You don't mean one of the ones Sanada Kuroko taught you?" Botan tentatively asked.
"Nah." A wicked smirk colored Shizuru's voice. "Let's just say something from the last round got me inspired…"
I marched faster.
However, walking away didn't end up putting distance between me and my troubles, as I'd hoped it would. All it did was send me over toward Yusuke, who looked pointedly away when I drew near and our eyes couldn't help but meet. He crossed his arms and put his back to me, which sent a stab of pain through my gut. I wondered if I should try to talk to him, but the thought of initiating a confrontation here, in front of everyone, made my throat clench with sudden nausea.
I muttered a "hello" at him and kept marching.
But the fun wasn't over once I got past Yusuke. The Masked Fighter and a shirt-bereft Hiei stood at the periphery of our group of compatriots, and when I nearly bowled straight into Hiei in my haste to get away from Yusuke, he shot me a red-hot glare and stood his ground. I backpedaled like a cartoon character and gave the pair of them a friendly, if not awkward, wave. The Masked Fighter's headwrap hid Genkai's face and eyes from view, but Hiei's eyes stared boldly into mine like a set of smoldering coals keen on an uncomfortable staring contest.
"Meigo," he said.
I waved again, resisting the urge to ask him where his shirt had gone. "Sup."
"I'd ask why you're here, but we've danced that dance before." He stepped close, hands (including his burned right hand) shoved out of sight in the depths of his pockets. "Instead I'll ask you this: Why is she here?"
He meant Yukina, of course. He stared at her over my shoulder as she tended to the unconscious Kuwabara, his face set in a pinched expression of pronounced displeasure. At Hiei's look I couldn't help but wince. I stepped nearer to him, pitching my voice to a volume barely louder than a whisper. Despite the noisy crowd around us, I didn't doubt he'd be able to hear me when I said, "She's looking for her brother."
Hiei's face spasmed, settling into a mask of anger and bared teeth. "So you brought her right to—?!"
"Shh." I put a finger to my lips. "She's here alone, and the same Black Black Club who kidnapped her is running this tournament. Didn't feel right letting her wander around without an escort."
His ire cooled, if only a little bit. "No. I suppose not," he said—but even though he'd stopped showing me his teeth, ferocity still burned in the pits of his scarlet eyes. "But not a word, Meigo. Do you hear me? Not a single—"
"Word. I get it." I made a show of zipping and locking my lips as I walked backwards away from him, tucking an imaginary key into my bra as Hiei looked on in perplexed silence.
"Where are you going?" he called after me.
"I need a break, all right?"
I didn't wait for him to reply before taking my leave, heading for the edge of the ring so I could jump over the edge. The grass around the ring was about four and a half feet down, maybe, so when I sat with my back against the concrete edge of the arena, I was tucked very neatly out of sight of my friends. The demons in the stands could see me, so I wasn't totally alone, but I was alone enough to put my elbows on my knees and thread my hands into my hair, sighing and closing my eyes in a lame attempt to relax in privacy—and I really, really needed to relax, because the past few minutes had been a horrible rollercoaster ride of emotional whiplash, and I deserved a break. First Kuwabara had won, which was a huge victory, but he hadn't reacted to Yukina properly, and that was a big question mark. Yusuke was mad at me, and Hiei was resentful of me, and Shizuru was both angry at me and ruining canon with her madcap desire to help us win—something canon dictated she didn't need to help us with in the first place! And to make matters both worse and way more creepy, Sakyo was apparently intrigued enough by Shizuru to help influence a Tournament Committee ruling in her favor (provided she didn't get herself killed against the upcoming demons, oh god oh god oh god please don't get killed against the upcoming demons) and—
"Kei?"
I looked up.
A few dozen feet to my right, back against the wall separating the stands full of demons from the grassy ring around the fighting arena, sat Kurama. He hunched low, lying like a shadow in the shade cast by the wall itself, and he raised a hand in greeting after getting my attention. I probably wouldn't have spotted him had he not waved. His dark hair and low stance made him blend in with the dark wall at his back, but once I knew he was there, relief spread through me like a cool drink on a blistering day. He was basically the one safe person I knew at this tournament, so without a thought I rolled to my feet and jogged in his direction, smile breaking out across my face.
When I neared him, however, and the details of his condition swam into clear focus, I stopped dead in my tracks.
"Dude. DUDE." I pointed at him, jaw hanging low. "There's a plant in your arm!"
He looked down. Looked back up at me again. Said in a dry, unamused tone of voice: "So it would seem."
Somehow I'd forgotten what he'd do to beat Touya, which meant I hadn't at all prepared myself for the sight of a swath of green vines sprouting from his bare forearms. They peeked through gaps in his flesh, leaves bright green and spotted in red blood, their stems parting Kurama's skin like scalpels that had burst from inward out. I clapped a hand to my mouth as I stared, wide-eyed, at the plants curling around his wrists and forearms, unable to form coherent words as Kurama waited in longsuffering silence for me to find my wits again.
"Jesus." I mopped a hand over my face. "I mean, Jesus Christ."
He gathered up his arms, folding them closer to his chest. "I can cover the vines if you—"
"Holy shit I think they moved."
Kurama sighed and tugged on his tattered sleeves, using them to hide the exit wounds from view. When they disappeared, he nodded to his side, and I sat next to him with ginger hesitance—mostly because I was trying my damndest not to stare and getting closer to him made that super difficult. Kurama, normally so put together and clean, was an absolute mess. Shoes scuffed, hair tangled, face dirty, pants ripped, every last part of his ensemble had suffered today, a fact made even more apparent since he was wearing white and every stained showed up like neon. His shirt splayed open to the waist, revealing a chest streaked with rust-colored grime that looked suspiciously like dried blood… probably because it was dried blood, used to remove Gama's power-restricting paint from his skin. For a minute I tried to hunt for the demon markings Gama had afflicted Kurama with, tracing the curve of his pectoral muscle and the cuts of his toned abdomen with my eyes and—oh. Oh, shit, Kurama was actually pretty damn ripped, now that I was looking closely. Not like the gym-nut Jin or anything, but still. How had I not noticed his muscles before? I suppose he didn't lose his shirt with the same zest that Yusuke and Hiei seemed to lose theirs (those drama queens), but…
Kurama cleared his throat.
I cleared mine, too, and averted my eyes with a nonchalant hum.
"So tell me." Kurama nodded toward the ring. "Kuwabara. Is he still unconscious?"
I carefully didn't look at Kurama, eyes trained on the sky. "Last time I checked, yeah."
"Good. He's been through enough today. To watch his sister fight on his behalf…"
"Yeah. He'd throw a fit."
"Not that I blame him."
"Same." I curled my knees to my chest again, fingers carding deep into my hair at the thought of Kuwabara. "Oh, fuck."
Kurama, clever fox, read my mood quite deftly. "I take it things haven't gone exactly to plan today?" he asked, the barest of smiles lightening his voice.
"Not remotely," I grumbled. "But that's what I get for prioritizing girl power."
"For prioritizing…?"
I sighed. "Nothing."
Out in the middle of the ring, the rest of our friends gathered in a knot to talk. I could only see their heads and shoulders from my low vantage point (and I couldn't see Hiei, Yukina or the Masked Fighter at all since they were shorter than the others), but Yusuke looked to be giving Shizuru pointers or something—he was air-punching a lot, probably fighting off imaginary enemies. Shizuru herself seemed calm enough, smoking her cigarette and watching Yusuke with a lazy smile on her face… but when I looked close, something about the set of her shoulders belied her surface attitude. She looked like a spring coiled beneath the lid of a jack-in-the-box, almost. Like she was waiting for someone to open the lid so she could strike, all potential energy ready to pop off.
Just then, Yusuke's head turned in my direction.
From across the arena, our eyes met.
The shared look didn't last, though. He made a show of stretching his arms over his head and sweeping his eyes across the entire stadium. Trying to cover that he'd just shot me a glance, was my best bet. Too bad I saw right through him.
"How's Yusuke seem?" I asked.
Kurama shrugged, but carefully, mindful of the foliage coiled on his lap. "Like Yusuke, as is his wont. Why do you ask?"
"He won't look me in the eye." I carded my fingers through my bangs. "Not that that's unexpected, but…"
Kurama only smiled. "He'll come around."
I lifted a brow. "Did you…?"
"Speak with him after our chat? No." His eyes glittered when he smiled. "But I may have dropped a few subtle suggestions that he ought to be grateful for the support of his friends when his life hangs in the balance, as that only makes sense."
"You're a pal, Kurama."
He hummed, still smiling. "Yukina's with you, I couldn't help but notice."
"Yeah," I said, still staring moodily over toward Yusuke. "We found her outside."
"And yet you don't seem happy about running into a friendly face."
"Oh, no. Finding her was great. All according to plan." My expression soured along with my mood. "But everything that's come after, not so much."
"Care to elaborate?" Kurama said when I didn't continue speaking.
I thought about it for a minute—and then I sighed. "Remember that conversation we had on the train, when we came back from the mountains after the Yukina case?"
He nodded. "I do."
"That bit of plot I thought I'd made happen appears not to have happened." I tugged on my bangs, shoots of pain lancing through my scalp at the thought of Kuwabara's lackluster reaction to Yukina. "Like most things, it's my fault, and I have no idea how to fix it beyond egregious meddling."
"But I'm confused." His gorgeous eyes were as guileless as they were green. "Isn't egregious meddling the norm for you?"
I scowled, but it was more of an effort to fight back a smile than any true show of displeasure. "I'd sock you in the arm if you didn't have an entire greenhouse growing out of it," I threatened with a melodramatic shake of fist.
"Apologies," he said, although his smile wasn't apologetic at all and instead told me he was enjoying the ribbing immensely—and was probably just trying to cheer me up a little, knowing him. "I'm only joking."
"Yeah, well, I'm not," I said, eyeing his arm as if hunting for a spot to strike.
Kurama just chuckled, but then he winced. "Stop that."
"Hmm?"
He gestured at the plants. "It hurts when I laugh."
"Does it really?" I said with faux innocence. "This is a total change of topic, a complete non sequitur, but come to think of it… do I know any jokes?" I stroked my chin, leaning into humor to distract myself from my own mental anguish, while Kurama heaved a heavy sigh. "Oh, that's right. I do know some jokes! Hot diggity doo; how about a knock-knock joke?"
"Kei," he said, glowering.
"Nah, a knock-knock joke won't cut it. How about this: What do you call a fox with a carrot in each ear?"
Kurama's glower turned into a look of blank skepticism, and then he grudgingly told me, "I will admit to being morbidly curious, so… what do you call a fox with a carrot in each ear, I wonder?"
"Whatever the hell you want, cuz he can't hear you." I rolled onto my knees so I could clap my hands over his ears and hiss into his startled face, "You're a sarcastic piece of crap, fox-boy, and mark my words, I will have my revenge."
For a moment, Kurama just stared up at me in silence—but then he ducked his head, pulling out of my hands with a laugh he tried valiantly to turn into a cough. I settled back into my spot at his side with a grin as he alternated between laughing and wincing, the vines piled on his lap undulating in time with his mirth. Perfect. After this, he'd be too distracted to make me think more on the Kuwabara conundrum, and—oh, shit. There I went, thinking about it again. Oh, for the love of—
"You two having fun?"
We looked up in unison. Yusuke stood on the edge of the arena nearest us, toes poised over the drop down to the grass below. When he knew he had our attention, he dropped to the ground and walked over, hands jammed into his blue pants as he stared us down.
Was he actually glaring, or was I just projecting how I felt onto him? I had to wonder, because Kurama's smile didn't falter even a little under Yusuke's weighty gaze.
"We're having a pleasant enough conversation, I suppose," was all he said. One green eye regarded me askance. "Isn't that right, Kei?"
"Oh. Uh. Yeah. Yeah, sure." I tried to grin, though the action felt a little wobbly. "Hi, Yusuke."
Yusuke didn't greet me back. He walked without a word and sat on Kurama's other side, blocked from view by the bulk of Kurama's tangled hair. I tried to lean forward and catch his eye, but he stared carefully ahead, not looking in my direction.
Kurama said, "What do you need, Yusuke?"
Yusuke nodded forward, toward the ring, where Shizuru stood talking to Botan and Atsuko (who had taken over mock-punching the air; like mother, like son). "You think we're doing the right thing?" he asked, and he didn't need to specify further than that for Kurama and me to catch his drift.
"It's not up to us." Kurama's mouth quirked. "And something tells me that Shizuru would not cleave to the idea of us ordering her down once she sets her mind to something."
"That's what I thought you'd say." Yusuke slumped, resting one ankle on his other knee with a scowl. "Never gonna hear the end of it once Kuwabara wakes up."
"I don't think you'll have to worry," I piped in, though I regretted it when Yusuke's baleful eyes slid in my direction. Timidly I added, "He's even more scared of Shizuru than we are."
Yusuke slumped further. "I mean. I guess?"
He didn't elaborate. The resulting silence was, in short, super-duper awkward as fuck. Kurama looks pointedly up at the sky, a pleasant smile plastered on his face. Yusuke stared at the ground, lips pressed so hard together it almost looked like he was pouting. I tried not to stare at him as the silence lengthened and got heavy as a coat made of lead, but soon the hefty silence started weighing on my nerves. I hate awkward silences—mostly because I can't seem to keep quiet when I find myself trapped inside one.
"So. Uh. How are things?" I blurted after an agonizing minute or two.
Yusuke's eyes flickered toward me. "They're fine." They flickered away again. "You?"
"… fine."
A beat or two passed.
Between us, Kurama began to hum a little tune.
Yusuke scratched the back of his neck. "So. Uh. Keiko?"
My head whipped toward him like Indiana Jones' weapon of choice. "Yeah, Yusuke?"
"Uh." He scratched his neck some more, not looking at me. "I gotta ask."
My heart leapt into my mouth. "Yeah?"
"During one of my fights." He dug his finger in his ear, face screwing up out of what was most definitely the thin awkwardness stretching like overtaxed rubber between us. Yusuke said, "Um?"
I tried on an encouraging smile. "Go on."
Yusuke took a deep breath, sucked his teeth, then took another deep breath. "Did you," he said, picking his words with more care than I'd ever seen him devote to the act of speech. "Did you meet somebody who—?"
He didn't get to finish, because just then, a booming noise echoed across the arena. Yusuke was on his feet in seconds, feet spread beneath him in a fighting stance, and I joined him in my own a moment later. It was just the PA chime that sounded next, though, and soon Koto's voice came blasting through the speakers.
"Ladies and gentlemen," she said, slow and measured words laden with gravitas. "On my left I present to you some faces I know you're just dying to see more of." Her voice ramped up a little, faster and faster as she built to a crescendo. "You know them, you love then, so give 'em a hand as they come back for more of the delicious bloodshed that made them famous! Introducing, again, the demons known as—"
The match was starting, it seemed. Yusuke and I had the same idea: We both launched forward toward the ring, running headlong for Shizuru and the others, but then Kurama cleared his throat behind us. We skidded to a stop, sharing a Look and rolling our eyes at Kurama's teacher-like admonishment—but then Yusuke remembered he was mad at me and looked away in a huff. Without a word we doubled back and helped Kurama up, carrying him in tandem to the edge of the ring as Koto introduced Shizuru's foes on the other side of the arena.
Botan and Shizuru, in a coincidental mirror of Yusuke and me, had carried Kuwabara in tandem to the edge of the ring (though they carried him by his arms and legs, whereas we carried Kurama in a slightly more dignified fashion under his arms). We released Kurama and let him lean against the edge of the ring so they could hand Kuwabara down to us, and once we got his snoring self settled on the grass, we helped Yukina over the ring's edge, too. Botan, Atsuko, Hiei and the Masked Fighter all followed, leaving Shizuru alone atop the concrete. She gave us a nod before turning her back on us as Koto finished introducing the fighters. I didn't recognize any of their names; they must have been bit characters from teams Yusuke never fought in the anime, but I still stared at Shizuru with worried eyes as she stripped out of her coat, handed the garment down to Botan, and cracked her knuckles. She cracked her neck, too, stretching out her arms and legs before starting forward toward Koto in the center of the arena.
I lunged over the side of the arena before she got too far away, hooking a finger into the ankle of her slacks. "Wait."
Shizuru stopped, scowling with one brow raised high. She didn't particularly look like a fighter in her button-up shirt, vest and tie, but the expression on her face spoke volumes—volumes that namely promised that if I didn't let go of her leg, she'd probably break my fingers. Shizuru's Resting B-word Face speaks volumes.
"Be careful, OK?" I said, easing my hand out of her hem. "Just get a ring-out if they're too much."
Both of her brows shot up. "Kid, I know you're as psychic as a bag of wet hair, but..."
"But what?" I asked.
She opened her mouth, and then she closed it again. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Nothing," she said, and she pivoted away from me. "Seeing is believing."
I frowned as I watched her go. Yusuke stood near me, leaning over the edge of the arena as I was, but he looked away when I tried to catch his eye. Hiei stood near my elbow, though, so I turned my eyes his way.
"What's she mean?" I asked.
Hiei scoffed. "How should I know?"
I sought out Kurama. He leaned against the wall beside me, uncertain on his feet but holding steady thanks to the wall's support. He smiled when our eyes met, but they glittered in that way they did when he was being tricky, and I suspected he wouldn't give me any answers, either.
"I think she wants you to simply observe," he said when I stared at him (and, yup, no answers from this guy after all). "I won't risk angering her by ruining the surprise."
I scowled. "Don't make me bust out the knock-knock jokes."
Kurama chuckled and winced. Atsuko, behind me, put a hand on my shoulder and leaned forward.
"Ooo, we telling jokes?" she said. "I've got a great one about the girl from Nantucket."
"That's a limerick, not a joke, and also inappropriate for teenagers, Atsuko."
"You and I were very different teenagers."
Botan shoved between us, tucking herself against the wall between Yusuke and me. "Enough with the banter, you two," she said, peering anxiously into the ring. "Shizuru needs our support."
I'm sure we looked quite silly, the heads of Botan, Atsuko, Kurama, Yusuke and me peeking over the edge of the arena like birds sitting on a telephone line. Hiei and the Masked Fighter stood back a ways since they were too short to see over the edge of the ring up close; Yukina stood near them, watching Shizuru walk toward the middle of the ring with her hand pressed to her rosy lips. The five demons Koto had introduced were way over on the other side of the fighting platform, making their way toward Koto in the middle just as Shizuru was.
They were tough customers, these demons, though not any more so than the demons Yusuke had faced so far. They were all humanoid, for one thing. The first was small and scrappy with green skin and a pink mohawk. The second was tall and thin, and he would've looked passably human if not for the furry tail and ears on his ass and head, respectively. The third was short but muscular under metal plate armor, skin as blue as the sky overhead, and the fourth had the beak of a bird in place of a nose or mouth but was of average height and build. The fifth was the biggest of them all, both tall and broad and covered in muscles, and his bright red skin was rivaled only by the horns jutting from his skull in terms of sheer eye-catching quality. All of them carried weapons (swords, daggers, a claymore, gloves with clawed fingers), and they each wore armor scratched and dented but in good repair. Like they'd seen and lived through a lot of fights, or something like that, their eyes hardened and battle ready as they came to a stop near Koto.
When they reached her, and began eyeing Shizuru over with undisguised disdain, Koto began speaking to them. Words were exchanged between Koto, the demons and Shizuru, and as Shizuru gave a small nod, the demons' faces all adopted a look of abject surprise. Koto raised the mic to her mouth, her face arranged in an expression of disbelief, too.
Shizuru, though? She just flicked out the butt of her stubby cigarette and lit up a fresh one, casual as you please.
"The terms of battle have been decided," Koto said. She thrust a hand skyward, "Somehow, and in flagrant defiance of self-preservation, Shizuru has agreed to fight a battle royale!"
A beat passed.
Then my entire group of friends bellowed: "She's WHAT?!"
"Not that we're complaining, right everybody?" Koto continued, ignoring us (though she did shoot an amused glance in our direction). "Maximum bloodshed is what we crave, and this match is sure to deliver! It's five on one until one team or the other is beaten, dead, or tossed out of the ring." She lowered the mic, and from across the arena I saw her turn to Shizuru and ask, "You sure about this?"
Shizuru didn't say anything. She just blew out a plume of smoke, which hovered around her on the air like the choking miasma of an opium den. The smoke didn't immediately dissipate, and Shizuru didn't wave it away, either, which was weird—but I got the sense she was putting on a show for her demonic opponents, who were eyeing her uncertainly after her confident request for a battle royale. Shizuru was intimidating even at her most casual, but now her stance spoke of confidence unmeasured.
Not that the big demon, the red one wielding the claymore, was phased.
He hefted his sword over his shoulder, grinned, and spat on the ground at Shizuru's feet.
Koto eyed the drop of spit with a grimace. "You're really sure about this?" she asked again.
Shizuru's hands disappeared into her pockets.
She blew out another plume of smoke.
She nodded.
Koto nodded, too. "Very well. Then let the match—"
She raised her hand into the air.
"—BEGIN!"
And her hand came down, like a guillotine, through the air.
The demons Shizuru faced were at least somewhat honorable, I was elated to note (but subconsciously, because my heart was pounding far too hard for me to actually formulate a cogent thought just then). They backed off and scattered instead of leaping into a dogpile, spreading out into a circle around Shizuru as Koto retreated, scampering out of the way even as she kept an eye on the fight and described the actions of the demons into her microphone. It was a wonder the demons didn't gang up on Shizuru, but maybe her intimidation tactic (or her ballsy request for a battle royale) had actually worked? It was possible, because they just stood in that circle for a minute, watching as Shizuru huffed and puffed on her cigarette, smoke tendrils drifting in lazy circles around her body like a carcinogenic aura.
Eventually, though, they had enough of reconnaissance. One or two of them started yelling stuff at her, though I couldn't make out what they were saying. Something about telling her to come at them, maybe, and when she didn't summon a weapon or go on the offensive, the demons traded a series of perplexed looks with one another. What was this human doing? The question showed plain as day on their mismatches faces, and one by one they drew their various weapons and settled into fighting stances.
Then the big red demon raised his hand.
The rest of the demons tensed—and when the red guy's hand came slashing down, the five of them leapt toward Shizuru with matching bellows of aggression.
At my side, Botan yelped and snatched up my hand, holding it tight for support as we watched the demons descend—and when Shizuru didn't move, didn't prepare to dodge, staying frozen in place as the demons bore down upon her, Botan let out a screech of, "Dammit, Shizuru, move!"
Shizuru moved.
Her head turned, and she looked over her shoulder at us and smiled.
Just as the demons neared her, weapons in range of a hit, the smoke haloing her body undulated. For a second I thought it moved with the force of the demons' approach, but it didn't move away from them. Instead it rippled and shifted, coiling into tight ropes before lashing outward like a flurry of diaphanous whips. Four of the demons managed to reverse in time, dodging backward and out of range of the smoke, but the muscular blue demon with the metal armor couldn't quite make it out in time. A tendril of smoke lashed right around his neck, dragging him backward like he'd been straight-armed by a pro wrestler, and then other whips of smoke redirected and joined their brother around his throat. He clawed at the smoke, back arching and body bucking, but his fingers passed through the haze and his weapon arced harmlessly through the vapor with only the barest of distortions to mark its path. He struggled and writhed for a few moments, but soon his thrashing weakened, and before long he went limp upon the arena floor.
Botan dropped my hand, staring wide-eyed as Shizuru tossed aside her spent cigarette and began to light another.
For a minute, none of us spoke.
Then: "What was that?" Yusuke said.
"The fuck was that?" Atsuko concurred.
"You bitch!" one of the demons screamed.
"I can hardly believe my eyes, people!" Koto yelled into her mic. "Shizuru has unveiled an absolutely insidious technique out of nowhere! She's injected her cigarette smoke with spirit energy and used it as an extension of her own body—amazing and bloodthirsty and cutthroat, I love it!" She paused. "But it's awfully familiar…"
"It is familiar," Kurama murmured, cupping his chin as his eyes took on a far-off look of contemplation. "But where…?"
The crowd of demons, shocked by what they'd seen, were awfully quiet just then—quiet enough for me to hear Shizuru's words when she began to speak, Koto's mic picking up the majority of what she said and projecting it from the speakers overhead. "He's not dead, if that's what you're wondering. Just choked out, is all. Smoke only holds together for so long." Shizuru took a drag and exhaled, air around her body filling with snakes of acrid ether. Smile lazy, fingers loose around her cigarette, she said, "But if you get near me, you'll have to tangle with it—and trust me." She pointed her cig at the nearest demon with a grin. "Only experienced smokers need apply."
My eyes widened. "Bakken."
"Hmm?" said Botan.
Kurama's eyes widened, too. "You're right, Kei. It is Bakken's mist technique, repurposed."
Atsuko looked at us with mouth agape. "Wha…?"
"But she only saw that technique used once, and from a distance!" Botan said.
From behind me, Hiei let out a harsh laugh. "Underestimate this human at your own peril, it seems."
Yusuke spun in place to stare at Kuwabara, still snoring on the grass. "So that's where Kuwabara gets it," he said, turning back toward Shizuru with light shining in his eyes. "It runs in the family."
"Shizuru!" Botan watched her in awe, fists clenching atop the arena's concrete surface. "I can't believe—"
"Shizuru, you badass!" Atsuko screamed, throwing herself halfway over the edge of the arena.
"You beautiful, badass babe!" I screamed, throwing myself up there, too. "Get 'em, Shizuru, fuckin' wreck 'em!"
"Break their kneecaps!" Atsuko added.
"Yes, Shizuru! I agree!" Botan threw herself halfway into the ring as well, slamming her fists on the ground. "Shizuru, smash!"
And from across the arena, Shizuru shot us a grin and said, "Lucky for you, girls, your wish is my command." She turned back to the knot of four demons staring at her from a few dozen feet away. "But this little smoke experiment won't earn me the win, I think. It's time to get serious."
She extended her hands. Her opponents, still shocked that the little human woman across from them had choked out one of their allies, watched in silence as the tips of her fingers began to glow with a faint yellow-orange energy. The light was vague and translucent, the same way all spirit weapons appeared to my unsighted eyes, but even my mundane vision could track the light as it gathered and spread over her knuckles, wrapping around them in jutting spikes before extending off the underside of her fist like she held a knife ready for a downward slash. When the energy stopped moving, the ghostly outline of a weapon filling her hand, it looked to me like she'd donned spiked brass knuckles while holding a dagger—a deadly combination if I had ever seen one.
Yusuke was slightly more informed than I was about Shizuru's weaponry. "Is that a trench knife?" he yelped, hauling himself halfway into the ring on his elbows alongside Botan, Atsuko and me.
"Is that what it's called?" I asked.
"Yeah; I saw it in a manga once." Like Botan, Yusuke stared at Shizuru with his mouth open, excitement and appreciation radiating from every pore. "Holy shit, though." He paused, lost for words. "She's…"
A grin split my features wide open. "She's cool."
Cool as a cucumber and wielding her glowing trench knives, Shizuru dropped into a fighting stance, hunkering in place as she raised her weapons to the ready. Like someone in a kung-fu movie, she lifted one hand toward the knot of watching demons and curled her fingers, beckoning them over with the smallest of smirks on her face. The effect was immediate; the demons broke into a run, finally attempting to dogpile on her as I'd first expected them to.
But Shizuru wasn't so easily overwhelmed. Her weight shifted, and when she darted forward, she moved so quickly I lost sight of her, and then she was on top of the demon with the bird-beak-nose and taking his feet out from under him with a sweep of her long leg. He let out a yell as he fell, but before he could hit the ground, Shizuru spun in place like a dancer turning a fouette and kicked him with bone crushing force in the middle of his face.
Bird-boy flew through the air on impact—and he flew straight toward us.
We scattered with a collection of screeches and curses, Yusuke managing to grab Kurama and move him to safety as the demon flew through the air right where we'd been standing. Like a tossed stone he crashed outside of the ring and landed in a heap on the grass. For a second we just stood there, staring at him, but then Atsuko scampered over and knelt at his unmoving side so she could look into his face.
She lifted her hand in a firm and gleeful thumbs down position.
Our group erupted into cheers.
"And Shizuru makes quick work of her second opponent—but what's this?" Koto cried. "The others have her in a pincer maneuver!"
We swiveled in time to see the remaining three demons charging at Shizuru, two from the front as the red demon with the ram horns circled around from behind. She still had her cigarette in her mouth, and when the ones in the front came close, she blew out a breath of white smoke. The smoke tangled around the twin daggers of the scrappy demon with the green skin, holding him at bay, but the tall demon with the animal ears dodged the vapor and came at her with a curved sword. This she blocked with her energy blades, holding them in an X to stay the downward blow aimed at her by her opponent. Her legs bent under the force of his strike, but I was much less worried about him than I was by the demon approaching her from behind. The red demon with the claymore moved with surprising speed for a creature his size, and he aimed an arcing swipe of his sword at her unprotected back as she dealt with the other two demons before her.
But Shizuru wouldn't be caught off guard like that, no matter how much I feared she might be cleft in two when she didn't immediately dodge, instead waiting until the last possible second before moving. With the grace of an acrobat she spun out of the way, letting the animal-eared demon fall forward from the force of his own attack—and straight into the path of the claymore.
Let's just say his demise was… messy.
Though that didn't faze the red demon, who looked at his fallen ally with nothing but raw contempt upon his face as he shook the blood from his sword.
Even though it was a demon who'd got got, the demonic crowd started screaming their approval of the bloodsport. Koto did, too. "In a quick-thinking reversal, Shizuru has cut her number of opponents in half—literally! I love it!" Koto screamed into her microphone. "So much blood, everybody, and even if you're not rooting for the human, even you have to admit she puts on a delightful show!"
And Shizuru aimed to please, because as soon as the red demon pulled his claymore from his fallen comrade, she went on the offensive, streaking toward him with trench knives at the ready. He met her head on, her blades and his gigantic sword flying in a glittering conflagration of attacks, metal glancing off of spirit energy with sounds like something out of a science fiction movie. For a minute it seemed like Shizuru had the upper hand, short blades much more easily wielded in close combat than the bulky claymore, but the red demon grinned and pressed back at her, manipulating his enormous sword with enough dexterity to clip the glowing cherry off the end of Shizuru's cigarette. She spat out the butt with a streamer of smoke and pushed back at him, eyes narrowing as she was finally put to the test and they exchanged a flurry of blows even more deadly and dexterous than the last. But soon the red demon danced backward, making her come at him if she wanted to reach him, his sword arcing between her slashing arms in an attempt to gore her, taking advantage of her weapons' shorter reaches to goad her into getting into close range—
The red demon waited for her to get close, then sidestepped her attack and came around behind her as her hand arced wide on the follow-through of her blow, body left wide open to attack—
Shizuru's weapon glowed. The blade of it shot outward, quadrupling in length out of nowhere, and on the backswing of her slash, she cut the red demon's head off—and it fell to the ground with surprise written on its face, body crumpling beside the severed head with a meaty and sickening thud.
"AND WE HAVE A DECAPITATION!" Koto shrieked as the crowd went nuts. "She lulled him into a false sense of security, making him think her blades had a static length, but then she extended them out of nowhere and went in for the kill!" Her joy chilled a bit when she said, "And that just leaves…"
Far on the other side of the ring stood the last demon, the final of the five who had failed in their mission to kill Shizuru: the scrappy demon with the green skin and pink mohawk. Shizuru turned toward him and stood her ground, lengthened blades glowing—one of them dripping blood—at her side.
The scrappy demon turned and ran.
As demons began to jeer, Shizuru heaved a sigh. She banished one of her blades, reached into her pocket for a cigarette and lighter, and tried to light her cig. The lighter sparked a few times without igniting. She sighed again, muttered a curse, and began to slowly walk after the fleeing demon while still attempting to light her cigarette.
The demon looked over his shoulder, saw her coming after him, and shrieked before running faster.
That's when Shizuru finally got her lighter to catch. She stopped walking and held the end of her cig in the flame, puffing until it lit and she could take a big drag. Ribbons of thick smoke poured from her mouth when she exhaled, streaking across the arena to tangle with the legs of the fleeing fighter. He tripped and fell, gibbering and clawing at the smoke as it dragged him backward by the ankles across the ring—straight to Shizuru's feet.
He wasn't a dumb demon, at least, because he knew damn well he couldn't stand up to her alone. No. He flopped onto his stomach and covered his face with his hands, yelling about mercy as Shizuru stared down at him without expression.
Then she turned and walked away.
The demon froze—but just as he peered up to see if she was really letting him go, Shizuru kicked the red demon's severed head in his direction. It skipped on the pavement like a stone on water, leaving splotches of green blood in its wake, before skidding to a stop just before the scrappy demon's face.
He screamed, and honestly? I don't blame him one bit.
But Shizuru wasn't quite finished. Stride measured and even and not at all hurried, she walked over to the green-skinned demon (who had recommenced begging for his life on hands and knees) and squatted in front of him. Her hands dangled between her knees as she watched the demon beg, taking drag after drag on her cigarette in silence.
Then: "Hey. You wanna forfeit, or should I give you a haircut to match your friend here?" She put out her cigarette on the red demon's dead, slack face. "I'm a beautician, but even I take a little too much off the top sometimes."
Mr. Scrappy didn't miss a beat. "I FORFEIT," he yelled over at Koto, both hands raised in surrender. "YOU HEAR ME, KOTO? I FORFEIT!"
Shizuru smirked. "Smart move."
And Koto leapt into action. "And you heard it here, folks!" she said, dashing to Shizuru's side. She grabbed her hand and lifted it high with a triumphant scream of, "SHIZURU IS THE WINNER, AND NOT ONLY THAT—SHE IS NOW THE OFFICIAL ALTERNATE OF TEAM URAMESHI!"
The peal of sound that followed that declaration was absolutely deafening. Demons jeered and cheered and booed in turns, and against all odds, some actually sounded happy as they screamed, won over by the blood and guts in this unexpected fight—but I ignored them all as I, not to mention the rest of my friends, surged upward and into the ring, sprinting for Shizuru so we could mob her with screaming and cheering so loud, we damn near almost drowned out the rest of the crowd. Her back was probably patted black and blue, we pounded it so hard, and as we celebrated Shizuru's victory in a little jumping knot of happiness, I swear I heard Kuwabara mutter a very sleepy "Wuz happenin'?" from his spot outside the ring. But like the demons in the crowd, we ignored him in favor of celebration.
"Holy shit!" Yusuke crowed as he beamed at the red demon's severed head. "Alternate? No way! We need you on the team itself, Shizuru!"
"How unexpected." Even Hiei had joined us, standing at the edge of the group with a smirk. "Looks like I'd gladly trade the oaf for his sister, after all."
"A truly impressive performance, Shizuru," Kurama called from the ring's edge (we'd forgotten to bring him along in the excitement, but judging by the smile on his face, I don't think he minded much).
"I'll say," Yusuke agreed, and he extended a hand toward Shizuru. "Welcome to the team, big-sis-Kuwabara."
Shizuru took his hand and shook. "Thanks for havin' me," she said as she put another cigarette in her mouth—and when she clicked her lighter a few times with no results, she gave a rueful smile. "Don't suppose any of you have a light, huh?"
Atsuko did. She lit Shizuru's chosen vice, and as the demons began to file out of the stadium around us, Yusuke clapped Shizuru on the back again. He laughed, long and hard and full of relish, and so did Botan. So did Atsuko, and Kurama, and even Hiei had a chuckle as we stood together and watched Yusuke enthusiastically rehash all of Shizuru's moves for the sheer joy of it.
It was wonderful, being there with them like that, high off of victory and adrenaline.
It was wonderful, and for one, glorious, golden moment, everything was good.
NOTES
This chapter is 1000% an unapologetic wish-fulfillment fantasy on my part: To see one of the YYH girls kickass at the Dark Tournament, and to see Shizuru fulfill some of her great potential as a fighter. I REGRET NOTHING; I HAVE WANTED THIS FOR YEARS.
New job is a ton of fun, but it's a way higher difficulty level than the old gig. Not as many lunch breaks where I can write, TBH. Sundays are a bit more doable than Saturdays since it gives me more time to work, but just know that when I saw I'll update again two weeks from now, it'll be the weekend of February 9/10. Can't promise the exact day, but…
Let's see, any housekeeping I need to do? Hmm… well, "Scooby-Doo Where are Yu-Yu?" is progressing very nicely, so that's fun. Should be finished in a half dozen chapters or so. And the next "Daughters of Destiny" chapter is almost done, so stay tuned!
These magical peeps made my day with their kind words. Couldn't do this without you: Khaleesi Renee, disenchanted love, C S Stars, IronDBZ, xenocanaan, Neko Mitsuko, Ink Outside the Lines, Meno Melissa, What Would Valery Do, Blaze162001, Minirowan, Kaiya Azure, Easily Amused 93, cestlavie, sunnyside, rokomo, hyakkidorro, Metro Neko, Sky65, buzzk97, tammywammy9, MyHeartBeatingMWMI, Eden Mae, ahyeon, Aly Goode, general zargon, yofa, McMousie (I tried to clarify some things for you but your PMs are turned off; argh!), WaYaADisi1, Sesshomaru's Luvr, Desaid, Tequilamockinbur, Miss Ideophobia, KonekoNoRenkinjutsushi, SterlingBee, Pyre101, Ally Kenshin, Kykygrly, Viviene 01 and assorted guests!
