"Sorry, Tyson, but I'm not coming to your funeral."
The blue-haired troublemaker snickered and flashed an innocent grin at his companion before slathering more honey on his victim's outstretched arm. "Who says I'm gonna die, Kenny? You're always such a pesti….a pessa…..a pezzami…." he paused with a frown. "Well, anyway, your glass is always half full. Lighten up!"
Kenny rolled his eyes. "If you're saying I'm a pessimist, Tyson, then the glass would be half empty. Besides, I'm not a pessimist! If anything, I'm a realist!"
Tyson shook his head, still grinning. "There ya go again, Kenny! Jeez…."
The shorter boy raised an eyebrow. "Tyson, I'm just trying to look out for your wellbeing. It'll be a sad day indeed when I must collapse into a beautiful doctor's slender, loving arms, an emotional wreck, and have to explain to her the tragic tale of how my best friend was murdered by his secret crush! Love's fatal blow!" he narrated sorrowfully, striking a dramatic pose.
"Now you're just talkin' crazy talk!" Tyson chuckled, though he couldn't help but furrow his brow at Kenny's mention of a "secret crush". However, after racking his brain for all of two seconds, he shrugged it off as one of his friend's love-drunk ramblings. Averting his attention back to his task, he drizzled one last line of honey before sitting back on his heels and proudly stating, "Done!"
Kenny looked back and forth between his doomed friend and his self-proclaimed masterpiece. Hilary was asleep on her futon, peacefully unaware that every exposed area of skin on her upper body had been coated in a sweet layer of sticky honey.
Tyson could barely muffle his giggling as the morning sunlight glinted down on her skin, making the brunette look like some kind of strange candy person.
"Go ahead, Chief. Tickle her cheek so she'll slap at it and her hand'll get stuck, hehehe…."
"Not a chance, Tyson. This whole thing was your idea. I ain't gonna be a part of it," Kenny strictly refused, backing away a few more steps towards the door.
"Ah, Ken. You weren't any fun anyway!" Tyson cried with exasperation.
"Well, if you consider 'no fun' as being even a little bit intelligent and removing myself from the situation so that I can live to see another day, then yes! I'm no fun!" Kenny pouted, crossing his arms. "She's gonna know it was you!"
Tyson just smirked and, standing up, patted Kenny on the shoulder reassuringly. "See, that's where you're wrong, Chief. I've already got another plan worked up!" Tapping his temple, he held up the bottle of honey. "I'll just cover you with honey too! That way it'll look like some culprit came in the middle of the night and ambushed everyone!"
This comment earned a simultaneous face-fault from the brilliant engineer. "Tyson, we crashed at your place last night, and we are still here. No one can come in with your angry samurai grandfather on guard duty for his precious Hilary. And it'll obviously look like an inside job with you being the only clean one," Kenny explained the flaw in Tyson's plan.
"Then I'll cover myself too! No big deal!" Tyson exclaimed proudly.
Kenny shook his head with a sigh. "Wouldn't that kind of defeat the purpose?" he muttered.
Suddenly, before the World Champion could formulate a proper response, a rustling sound was heard that made the blood of the boys run cold. Tyson turned instinctively towards his garden, hand quivering over the backpocket where his blade rested. Apparently, he thought every problem could be solved with a Beyblade.
A tense second passed and the bushes shook again.
"Show yourself!" Kenny called out, groaning inwardly at the thought of having to battle another hire of some unknown villain so early in the morning. He jumped, startled, when Tyson slapped a hand across his mouth from behind.
"Shhh! Kenny! You'll wake Hilary up!" he whispered harshly.
Just then, as if to remind the boys of its presence, the bushes rustled again and a minute later, out tumbled a small raccoon.
"Huh?" Tyson and Kenny froze.
"A raccoon!" Tyson cried excitedly, grinning from ear to ear, releasing his hold on Kenny.
Kenny gasped, as the raccoon sauntered closer to the veranda. "What's a racoon doing in your garden, Tyson?"
"Beats me," Tyson simply shrugged his shoulders, "I never seen it before. This is pretty cool, though."
"I don't think this is a good sign, Tyson." Kenny gulped. "I read somewhere that raccoons carry diseases."
"What!?" Tyson gawked, looking shocked at his friends revelation.
Tyson nodded. "It is! It must have sensed my presence! I am the Chosen One after-WAAAAAAAHHHH!"
"Hey, maybe we should try to shoo it away or throw some food at it!" Kenny suggested, but he soon frowned. The raccoon was paying them no attention and was moving almost as if in a trance towards a certain sleeping brunette. "What's it…oh no!" Kenny cried, hands reaching up to rake through his hair as he watched the unfolding scene.
Upon reaching Hilary, it crawled directly on top of her and began licking up the honey on her arms.
"That's it!" Kenny threw up his arms, defeatedly. "I'm out of here, Tyson! The second she wakes up, it's just gonna be a frenzy of blood and dismembered limbs! Your dismembered limbs! And I'm sorry but I do not wanna be here to mop up afterwards!" he flailed, backing away slowly, looking for his belongings, "Thanks for having us, Tyson."
Tyson, in the meantime, had gotten up and was trying to coax the raccoon away from Hilary by shaking the bottle of honey back and forth, hesitantly. "Here, raccoon! I have more honey over here! You can have all of it if you just come away from the sleeping psychopath," he muttered, face growing more and more worried with each passing second the mammal ignored him. He tried squirting a trail of honey on the corridor to lure it away, but the racoon still paid him no mind. "Urghhh, Kenny, it's not working! What are we gonna-?"
He looked up to find that his reliable best friend, had abandoned him. He smacked his forehead before calling out, "You can forget that game we were gonna go together, Chief!"
Turning back to the raccoon with a grumble, his expression turned to one of sheer horror as it wiggled its way up to begin licking Hilary's face.
Tyson had never been one to fear death before, but the moment Hilary's face twitched, he knew he was a goner. And he knew that he would not be dying a quiet or even heroic death, but rather an extremely painful, not to mention shameful, slow, torturous demise at the hands of the she-devil herself.
He cowered, arms coming up to shield his head in anticipation of the violence that was to come, but was surprised when none came. A second passed, and he risked a peek through his fingers.
Hilary's face twitched again as the raccoon licked her, but she seemed to be…smiling. Tyson lowered his arms completely and furrowed his brow. However, his eyes widened when Hilary began mumbling something.
"Tyson…." she began, giggling softly with her eyes closed. "Stop it! That tickles!"
Said-"tickler's" jaw dropped to the ground and his surprise came out as a choked, eloquent exclamation of "Ngaaaaaah?!"
"Tyson," she cooed again, a dreamy expression crossing her face as she sleep-talked. "I really…like you…."
He just gaped, unable to gain control of his shock, staring at her in utter disbelief of what was occurring. A myriad of emotions raced through his small mind, struggling for power over his actions. He was relieved that she was still asleep, confused as to what she was saying, still somewhat afraid for his life, and strangely….overjoyed that he was the subject of her dreams.
He was….happy? Tyson shook his head back and forth in an attempt to clear his mind. No, no, no, this was not the time. The fear won out, and he decided to try coaxing the racoon away again, trying to ignore his now-sweating palms.
"C-Come on! Come on! Leave her alone! I've got honey! Honey!" he whispered, flailing his arms around desperately as he tried to divert its attention.
He gulped, however, when Hilary started talking again, and she let out another quiet giggle as the racoon slurped honey off her nose. "Did you just call me 'honey', Tyson?...No one's ever called me that before! Want me to start calling you that too? Huh, Tyson, honey?"
"Gah! No!" Tyson twitched, panic washing over his features. "G-Go back to sleep! This is all a dream! You don't really like me! You can't! You hate me! That's why you always beat me up! Now please go back to sleep! Come on, stupid racoon!"
But the racoon stayed put and so did Hilary's smile. "I beat you up because I like you, Tyson….." She pulled her sleeping bag up higher, the honey from her hands sticking to the material. "I care about you….a lot….that's why….I never stopped….following you….." And with a contented sigh, she appeared to have fallen into a deep, speechless sleep once more.
Tyson let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Running a hand through his hair, he shook his head. This couldn't be Hilary talking. Maybe she was possessed by the spirit of some mushy, romantic…...person. But then again, he didn't think Hilary, the previously defined she-devil, would be one to let herself be taken over.
Whatever the situation though, the usually fearless Tyson Granger found himself absolutely terrified with the fact that his subconscious was secretly hoping she wasn't possessed.
Despite everything, however, he knew that if Hilary were to wake up with a dangerous wild animal on her face, there'd be hell to pay. And so, Tyson put on a brave face and crept forward ever so slightly on his knees, hands outstretched to snatch the raccoon off her face.
Almost there, almostttt... he thought, and with a final surge of determination, he pounced, lunging forward in an attempt to grab it. However, the raccoon, startled by his attack, quickly took off and scampered away with a loud scowl. The momentum from the leap had Tyson falling forward, and he found himself panicking as Hilary's face loomed closer and closer to his. He flailed, arms reaching out to brace his fall, only to have them land on either side of Hilary's head roughly. His arms buckled from the impact, and gravity lived up to its name, causing Tyson's lips to collide with Hilary's as he fell on top of her.
Hilary's eyes shot open, and she jolted in surprise. Tyson, completely mortified, tore away from her and scrambled backwards, blushing hard.
Hilary sat up, eyes still wide with shock.
About three things she was absolutely positive. First, she was covered in honey. Second, there was a part of her, and she didn't know how dominant that part might be, that wanted to murder Tyson Granger. And third, looking at the horrifically embarrassed, idiotic, blue-haired goofball before her, she knew she was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.
"Tyson?" she asked quietly, voice eerily calm. "Did you slather me in honey while I was sleeping?"
"….Maybe…." he fretted, avoiding eye contact as he began casually backing away.
She nodded slowly. "And then did you…..kiss me?"
His face grew even redder. "I-I didn't mean to! You were talking a-and then-a raccoon! And I had to get-I fell-it was an accident! It'll never happen again, I promise!" he stammered, then with a nervous laugh and a sheepish grin, gulped, "But you tasted really sweet, honey!"
The impact of the punch let him know just how much Hilary cared.