Title: Hyuse Cronin…yeah.
Chapter III: Hockey Goes Yeet
Author: Ri-Ryn
Genre: Humor/Friendship
Word Count: 542
Rating: M* (Content suitable for Mature Teens) / +T
Disclaimer: World Trigger belongs to Ashihara Daisuke.
Warnings: Some explicit language. Stereotypes. Crack. Flesh eating moose again. Viva la hockey! Kidding, you won't live through their hockey. Allusion to mass murder/violence for population control and sport.
A/N: Rest in Pieces tourism in Canada – I've single handedly killed it or ensured only adrenaline junkies. I hate myself for this chapter title. Ch. 4 will be out next week sometime, it's already written. Also, thank you slew of Canadian readers and you one dastardly soul who informed me moose could swim.
It was per chance they ran into Okudera and Koarai a week ago and learned about the gruesome recounts of moose. They weren't able to find any of the accounts that Hyuse described but hey - you wouldn't want to advertise that either. That was tantamount to social tourism suicide, the same as if Border relayed the actual horrors of the invasion a few years ago.
Then Kotarō and Yūta traumatized themselves further via images of moose racks growing in and that, most understandably, they freakin' swam.
It was with boyish horror that they approached Hyuse to learn more wicked things.
"What about hockey, did you ever play that?" Miura inquired excitedly, Tomoe nodding along more sedately.
"Hockey?" Hyuse repeated incredulously - again, the hell was that and why did they feel the need to seek him out? Perhaps he needed to tone it back, he was blending in too seamlessly if the could approach him so shamelessly. Even worse was that they kept sleuthing for more info on Aftokrator and didn't even know: not properly, at least.
Miura and Tomoe exchanged glances - right, Canadian words, not Japanese, later.
"Sticks," Miura mimed, knowing no better and mimicking how he wielded Kogetsu.
Woefully, Tomoe hadn't paid any attention to correct his peer, tacking onto the misconception, "And pucks. Games get pretty rough as they go to score, right? All the teams?"
Hyuse had to wonder if anyone really had defected from Aftokrator and settled in this elusive Canada with their elusive Canadian-ness; however, he couldn't let this stand, especially if those halflings had watered down their heritage. "On a technicality you're incorrect. It's a culling event based upon leadership." The lands at their disposal could only support so many and the weak died without an adequate sacrificial God, he sourly mused.
The two B-ranked agents were duly appalled.
"I thought it was a game…" Miura tearily choked out, Tomoe wondering how the Prime Minister sanctioned or hid this.
"Close enough. It is entertainment and there's only so much hospitable land."
Two pairs of wide eyes thought of Canadian wilderness, moose, and likely other horrific creatures.
Hyuse tilted his head indicating, the three idiots headed for rank wars that would do them no good. Grossly Incompetent (Teruteru Kouda), Half-Blind (Fumifumi Saotome), and Headgear (Hidehide Hinoe). Disgusting.
He snickered but petulantly was reminded of Osamu scolding him to be more polite. Also disgusting.
"Those three? They would die easily." Hyuse considered it a moment longer. "Probably with relish." From their executioner.
"And since teams don't exist unless you count being from the same geographical region, they would perish with a targeted vengeance."
Hyuse evaluated both agents, deciding to complement them and possibly acquire informants from the ordeal. They're just connected enough to overhear things but low enough on the rungs to not be monitored for over-sharing. "You two would do well enough to play…hockey…until the mid-brackets."
'You two would do well to enter the culling event until halfway through. Then you'd be exterminated with prejudice.'
Miura and Tomoe sheepishly took several not so furtive steps back in rapid succession.
Canadians must not have not have many reasons to smile. But even if they did, they really shouldn't if Hyuse was a good representative sample.
