Chapter Text
pi pi pi
Ryuji's ears perked up at the chirping of his smartphone. He glanced down at it, eager to see the message. His face fell a second later, and he scrolled up through the chat:
Ryuji: Hey, anyone down to grab some ramen?
Yusuke: Normally I'm game for food, but I must continue working on this painting. My next exhibition is coming up, and I've spent too much time agonizing over the details.
Ann: Sorry, can't. Got a shoot today.
Futaba: Ehhh...maybe. I'm kinda trying to cut back on all the junk food.
Haru: Oh, I'm so sorry, Mako-chan and I were supposed to meet up to study today. :(
And the final text had been the nail in the coffin.
Makoto: Sorry, Ryuji. Maybe some other time.
Ryuji sighed. He should have known better at this point. Everyone had their own lives, and so did he. He knew that even if Ren had been in Tokyo, he might have been busy too, but Ryuji couldn't help but feel that no, his best friend would have made time for him. But it wasn't like he could just text Ren and ask him to come all the way out just for ramen.
Resigned to the fact that he'd be eating alone again (if Futaba was hedging like that, it was probably a no), Ryuji got in line at the place he and Ren (and occasionally Yusuke) had frequented. The smells of the spices and broths was comforting, and Ryuji found himself perking up just a bit.
The bell on the door rang. Ryuji instinctively scooted forward just a bit to make sure that whoever was trying to enter had room. He turned to see if it would be enough, and found himself staring at a girl. She was about his age, and definitely a cutie. She was dressed in a black uniform similar to the ones worn by the staff here. Something was odd about that. She obviously didn't work here, but why would she be in that uniform?
Ryuji was very aware that he wasn't exactly the smartest of the Phantom Thieves, but his brain was going into overdrive trying to work out this mystery. Supposing she was also a ramen chef, was she here on her break? But then why not just eat at the place she worked at? Unless she was tired of their food and wanted to try the competition's? That just raised more questions. Well, he supposed the only way to find out was to just ask.
"Here on your break?" Ryuji asked, in what he hoped was a friendly and unassuming manner. If the girl understood him, he certainly couldn't understand her response.
She was decidedly not speaking Japanese.
"Oh, uh, sorry, I don't speak Chinese," Ryuji said. At least he hoped to God it was Chinese she was speaking.
The girl didn't answer, but she didn't seem perturbed.
Finally, Ryuji got a seat at the bar and placed his order. The mystery girl was soon sitting in the seat beside him. She took off her black head covering, revealing hair that was as blonde as Ryuji's, although it seemed to be natural as opposed to Ryuji's bleached hair. Her eyebrows however were thick and green, like her bright eyes. She gave Ryuji a friendly smile and shook out her hair, giving a sigh of relief.
Ryuji returned the smile, and returned his attention to his smartphone game. Before long, they had both received their orders.
"Itadakimasu!" Ryuji declared before ravenously diving into his ramen. His neighbor had also received hers and was enjoying it with as much gusto.
"Pretty good, right?" Ryuji said, the language barrier forgotten. "They have noodles like this where you're from?"
The girl nodded enthusiastically. So it seemed she at least understood him. She reached into a pocket in her pants and pulled out a card and gave it to Ryuji.
"Mintendo Noodle House," Ryuji read, grateful that there was katakana on the card alongside kanji. "Is that where you work? I've never heard of it."
The girl nodded again, pointed to herself and said "Min Min."
He guessed that was her name? "Ryuji," he said, pointing at himself.
Min Min was good company, even if she couldn't talk to Ryuji very much. At any rate, they had a love of ramen in common, that much was clear. Ryuji excused himself, needing to take a leak. As he stood, however, he found himself accidentally swiping his arm into the bottles of ginger, garlic, and other sundry seasonings.
"Aw man!" He yelped as he found himself in that bizarre slow motion state where he could see what was going to happen but was powerless to stop it.
Min Min's eyes flashed, and in an instant, her arms shot behind Ryuji and snatched the bottles out of the air.
That on its own would have been impressive, but Ryuji's jaw dropped when he saw that Min Min's arms had transformed into coiled noodles! What was more, her hands were now shaped like dragon heads.
Yeah, that tracked.
In that instant, her outfit had changed too. It resembled traditional Chinese garb, largely green and orange, and her head was now adorned with an orange hat that looked all the world like an overturned bowl, with her hair being the noodles.
"Uh.....thanks." Ryuji said. His call of nature was a bit less important than whatever this was. "Say, do you happen to know someone named Joker?"
A spark of recognition lit up Min Min's eyes.
"Smash Bros.?" She asked in her thick accent.
"Smash Bros.! Yes! So you do know him! We're buds! I'll have to tell him I ran into you!"
Min Min excitedly said something that Ryuji still couldn't understand. He wondered if there was a free translation app he could download. But for now, he had that leak to take. One hurried apology later, and Ryuji was in and out of the bathroom in a flash. It occurred to him that he was extremely fortunate that something like that had never come up in the Metaverse. That would have been mortifying.
Min Min was finishing her ramen, and looking about ready to go. Ryuji waved and pointed at the card to acknowledge that he intended to try it out if he ever could. Next time he saw Ren he'd have to ask him more about her.
Ryuji left the ramen place in higher spirits. Futaba had texted him, her resolve to eat healthier wavering, but Ryuji had told her not to worry about it.
There would be other times.
Notes:
Hey all! So here's the first chapter of the sequel I teased at the end of The New Regulars. I liked the formula enough to keep it going, but I really wanted to give everyone else a chance to shine. And much like the first chapter of The New Regulars, which was prompted by imagining Snake and Sojiro hitting it off, the idea for a sequel was prompted by wanting to see a fic about Ryuji and Min Min enjoying ramen. As always, I can't guarantee a specific schedule, but I'll try to be better about it. I will say that again, I have the chapters planned out ahead of time. There will be at least one chapter featuring a returning Smash character, possibly two, but no more than that. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter Text
The water was too still. It was the height of fishing season, there should have been fish practically leaping out of the water. Sadayo Kawakami let out a frustrated sigh as she stared fruitlessly at her line. She was grateful for her wide-brimmed hat, it was starting to get hotter as the morning wore on.
She almost would rather have been grading papers right now. She was tempted to take her phone out, but if she did that, she might as well pack up. This was supposed to be a getaway from daily distraction.
Ichigaya was oddly empty. A day like this would have normally attracted a bunch of fishing enthusiasts, largely of the old man variety. Although there had been that one time…
The memory made Kawakami smile. Running into Amamiya and Sakamoto had been a surprise; at the time not necessarily a pleasant one, but with the benefit of hindsight, it couldn’t be anything but a nice memory. Shortly after, Ren had helped her reignite her love of teaching. Ryuji had helped too, she supposed, but he had never involved himself in her affairs the way Ren had.
Thinking of the former Phantom Thieves got Kawakami thinking about the particular member who was now under her charge: Futaba Sakura. The circumstances were unusual; normally, a homeroom teacher would stick with one class for their entire time in high school. Shujin Academy, however, having come under such intense scrutiny in the last year, had made some sweeping changes and thus, a lot of classes had been restructured. Kawakami was now teaching another group of second years, among them Futaba. She was glad about this, after all it was partly because of her that Futaba was in the school at all. She had managed to convince the new principal that her circumstances should allow her to test into her proper year, and it wouldn’t surprise Kawakami if she had learned that this had prompted the principal to give her the second year class in the first place.
How odd was it that she preferred Mr. Ushimaru as a principal rather than as a fellow teacher?
However, Kawakami would be lying if she said it as easy. Getting to know this new group of students wasn’t going as smoothly as she would have liked, and Futaba was probably the most difficult of them. Undeniably smart, it was hard for Kawakami, as well as the other teachers, to keep Futaba’s attention. Her grades were nearly perfect, but something was missing in the educational experience. Ms. Chouno in particular had nearly given up. Kawakami blew a stray strand of hair out of her face as she contemplated the problem. She wasn’t about to give up on Futaba, but she couldn’t help but feel as though her persistence at Shijun merited persistence in this unusually dull day of fishing. How the two were correlated though, she couldn’t say.
“Is this spot taken?” A cool voice asked. Kawakami’s gaze remained on her still motionless line.
“Be my guest.”
“Thank you.” The voice was nearly flat, devoid of emotion. The words conveyed gratitude, but there was a disconnect, a sense of total indifference. That was odd, Kawakami dimly thought. If it were all the same to this person, why ask? But rather than dwell on it too long, Kawakami instead attempted to zen her way into success, focusing on inner and outer calm.
Minutes passed, with only the occasional train disrupting the quiet. The zen strategy wasn’t working.
Kawakami was starting to think she should have brought a book. Staring at the water was supposed to be relaxing, but at this point it was just getting on her nerves. Furthermore, her butt was starting to get sore from sitting on the milk crate seat in the same position for so long. She was about to heave another frustrated sigh when suddenly her lure bobbed under the water.
With a cry of surprise, she jerked her rod up and stood, pulling as hard as she could. With a final mighty yank, she pulled the fish out of the water. It soared through the air majestically, the light catching behind it just so, with the droplets of water adding a particularly nice touch. At least, that’s how Kawakami chose to remember it, it was over far too quickly for her to have observed that in the moment.
“Wow, I landed a big one!” She cheered as she removed the hook from the fish’s mouth. It was a White Carp, one of the larger fish available in the pond, but by no means the biggest. Kawakami tried not to think too hard about how her day might have peaked as she placed the fish in the water-filled container beside her. She doubted she’d catch enough to bring to the counter for a free hour of fishing on her next visit, but dammit, she’d already come this far, might as well keep trying for a little longer, right? She tried not to think about how she might use this as an object lesson when discussing the sunk-cost fallacy in class.
“That was a nice catch,” her neighbor said.
“Thanks,” Kawakami beamed. “You should have seen the one I caught last summer, it was twice as big!”
For the first time, she took a look at her neighbor and promptly raised an eyebrow.
Kawakami had seen her fair share of cosplayers around the city, but never in the fishing area. The stranger wore armor of some kind, along with a long cloak that looked uncomfortably hot to be in. The armor itself didn’t cover too terribly much. Short shorts adorned her waist, and transparent tights covered her legs. A small portion of her midriff was exposed—this really wasn’t terribly defensive armor, was it? An ornate broach sat on her impressive chest. The face was the most striking part of this newcomer, however. She stared with a deep concentration, piercing blue eyes devoid of feeling. Oh, and her hair was a dark blueish green, that had to be a wig, right?
This strange fellow fisherwoman gave a small nod of acknowledgement, whether to Kawakami’s befuddlement or to her story, she couldn’t tell. The stranger’s attention had already returned to her own fishing line, but Kawakami’s curiosity had been piqued.
“So…do you fish in cosplay often?” She asked lamely.
“Cosplay?”
“You know, the costume. I don’t see a lot of people wearing stuff like that around here.”
“This isn’t a costume, this is how I dress.”
“Uh huh…”
An awkward silence passed.
“I’m not from around here if that helps you,” the stranger said, neutrally.
“Not too surprising I guess,” Kawakami said as she cast her line again. “Where are you from?”
“A place called Fódlan.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever heard of it.”
“I would be surprised if you had.”
“So what brings you all the way out here?”
“A recommendation from a friend.”
The strange person didn’t elaborate any further than that.
“Do you fish often?” Kawakami asked, feeling that since she’d started the conversation she should sociable.
“Oh yes, daily if I can help it.”
“Wow, you must be great then!”
“My students certainly think so.”
That got Kawakami to give her a second look.
“You’re a teacher?” The stranger seemed almost amused. Almost. The emotionless expression on her face shifted somewhat.
“I know what you’re thinking: that I’m very young to be a teacher, much less a professor.”
“I was thinking that,” Kawakami admitted. “You don’t look much older than my own students.”
“Oh, you’re also a teacher?”
“Yes, I teach at a high school in the city.”
“What school?”
“Shujin Academy.” The stranger brightened somewhat.
“Oh! That’s where my friend went to school when he lived here, perhaps you'd know him?”
“Could be, what’s his name?”
“Well I mainly know him as Joker, but I believe his actual name is Ren Amamiya.”
Kawakami nearly fell off the milk crate.
“You—how—who—what the?” She sputtered, unable to put her thoughts in order. “How do you know Ren?!”
“It’s complicated,” the stranger said. “But it is good to know that we have a mutual friend. My name is Byleth.”
“Sadayo Kawakami. Ren was my student for the year he lived here.”
Byleth nodded in acknowledgement. “Yes, he’s mentioned you in passing.” She did not elaborate further. Kawakami knew that Ren wasn’t the type to say anything bad about someone behind her back, but she was curious.
“What did he tell you?”
Byleth shrugged noncommittally and pulled a fish up. “Just that he had helped his teacher through a tight spot. That your love of teaching had been tested.”
That was true enough, although it was certainly the abridged version of events. In fact, ‘tested’ seemed like the wrong word. “I would say more like he reignited my love of teaching. I had completely burnt out.”
“Burnt out?”
“I was working several jobs to pay money to people who felt it was owed to them,” Kawakami said shrugging. “And they felt they were owed it due to the kind of teacher I was. So I stopped caring as much for a while. Seemed to me that if being a caring teacher had gotten me into that spot, I owed it to myself to change. Ren showed me how wrong I was.”
Byleth nodded in understanding and returned her gaze to the pond. “Conflict can certainly make it hard to reach people.”
“I’m sure you’ve gotten involved in your fair share of conflicts as a teacher.”
“Oh yes, I teach at an officers academy, and many of my students belonged to rival factions. After war broke out, conflict was inevitable.”
Kawakami gasped in surprise. “Did you have to pick a side? Or were you allowed to be neutral?”
The barest hint of sadness crossed Byleth’s face. “I had to choose. Neutrality was simply not an option. And no matter what my choice would have been, bloodshed would have been the outcome.”
Kawakami sighed sympathetically. “My god. Suddenly my problems with teaching don’t seem so bad.”
Byleth gave Kawakami an oddly piercing look. “It’s not a contest. Your struggles are not invalidated by my own.”
“Oh. Ah…” Kawakami had no response to that. She was right of course.
“I never stopped trying to reach my students though,” Byleth said after a lengthy silence. Another fish landed in her basket. “Some of them came around because of that and joined our cause. Others could not be convinced.” Kawakami still said nothing. This was a depressing topic, and calling it out of her depth was putting it lightly. “In a way though, I’m glad for the trials we went through.”
“Even though you had to face your own students in war?”
“Yes. In a way, even those who could not be swayed did me proud. They remained true to themselves and chose to be what they believed to be their best self.”
There was a certain logic to that, even if Kawakami was thinking that she couldn’t have seen it that way if it were her.
She thought again of Futaba. Her problem wasn’t nearly so dire as Byleth’s, but perhaps this could help her rethink how to reach the young genius. Byleth seemed to know that Kawakami was thinking about a student.
“That’s a lesson that you can teach in many different ways,” she said. “In fact it’s one that I think we all have to re-learn periodically.”
Kawakami nodded. “I think you’re right.” Another fish landed on her hook. She cried out in joy and reeled it in. It was a smaller one, but the fact that she had caught anything else was enough to feel like a victory. “You know, if you take your catches up to the counter you might be able to get a free hour the next time you come.”
Byleth smiled. An actual smile that lit up her face and made her look more human. “I’ll have to keep that in mind. And hopefully I’ll see you the next time I come.”
“Absolutely,” Kawakami said, returning Byleth’s smile as she stood. Byleth nodded to Kawakami’s cooler.
“Are you going to turn in your catch?”
Kawakami’s answer was to open the cooler and toss the elegant carp back.
“Maybe next time,” she said. “I waited so long to catch anything, and I should probably get going. But even catching those and meeting you was well worth it.”
Byleth offered her hand to Kawakami. “Likewise. I look forward to fishing with you again Ms. Kawakami.”
Kawakami nodded as she shook Byleth’s hand and gathered her things. Her mind raced with the possibilities that lay before her. She would get through to Futaba, she wasn’t about to give up any time soon.
Notes:
I LIVE. This one started easy enough, but as is so often the case I struggled with how to continue it past a certain point. In the meantime, I started working on other chapters, so hopefully updates will come more regularly (no promises of course).
Chapter Text
Another day, another early morning opening the store. Kaoru Iwai grumbled as he fumbled for his keys. He never had been much of a morning person. His dad had taken to opening earlier to attract business from a wider range of customer, or so he claimed. Kaoru was convinced that he did it to corral Kaoru into keeping up his studies. “If you don’t want to come to this dump so early, get the hell out of here,” he could hear Munehisa Iwai growling through his toothpick-clenching teeth. As he wrestled the door to an unlocked state, he was unaware of a pair of less-than-friendly eyes watching him.
“The eagle has landed. I repeat! The eagle has landed!”
“I’m on him!” Came the answer through a walkie-talkie. The voice’s owner stumbled out of their hiding spot and into plain view in the back alley where the store was situated.
“Hey buddy,” the voice’s owner addressed Kaoru…through a megaphone to Kaoru’s bewilderment. “You got the time?”
Kaoru blinked in confusion both at the megaphone and at the appearance of the person addressing him. “Sure it’s uh…hey aren’t you—?” Kaoru’s thought was cut off as somebody grabbed him from behind and he felt a cloth over his face, while the other person tackled him to the ground. A sweet smell filled his nostrils and his brain as his eyes lazily shut and he lost consciousness. Before he entirely passed out however, Kaoru could hear maniacal, utterly diabolical laughter.
Kaoru’s eyes opened slowly, easily adjusting to the dark room. Clearly, his assailants wanted him to not know where he was…but Kaoru had been in Untouchable’s back room so many times in the dark that he knew instantly where he was. He wondered vaguely if his kidnappers knew what they were doing.
His assailants were in front of him, just as strange as he had remembered: an anthropomorphic wolf with an eyepatch, and a crown-wearing caped crocodile, who were both leering at him madly.
“What’s this about?” Kaoru asked. The wolf spoke into the megaphone.
“Quiet. Big boy. We’ll ask the questions around here.”
“Do you uh, have to talk into that thing?”
The crocodile jabbed a finger into Kaoru’s chest. “Word on the street is you got a new gun comin’ out.”
“Could you be a little more specific? We’ve got a lot of new guns coming out.”
The crocodile blabbed a childish mimicry of Kaoru’s taunt. Yes, definitely the mature one of the bunch. The wolf held up a clawed paw to silence the croc.
“Tkachev 64. …Gun…shop…boy…” Yep. That insult sure had landed.
“Ohhhh so you wanna know about Tkachev 64 eh?” Kaoru smirked. He didn’t know what these clowns hoped to get out of him, but he wasn't going to make it easy for them.
“Yeah and you’d better tell us all you know! Or else!” The croc said, vainly attempting to sound threatening.
“Or else what?”
“!” The crocodile let out a sound that was something between a laugh and expression of surprise. The wolf took over again.
“Or else Snowman Boy here gets it!” He ripped a cloth off of a table, revealing a hee-ho-happy Jack Frost doll with its head in a vice. Kaoru couldn’t help but feel the whole thing was more than a bit silly, but he also couldn’t help a silly reaction as they tightened the vice.
“What are you guys doing with Jack Frost?! No! Leave Jack Frost out of this!”
More jeering maniacal laughter met Kaoru’s ears. And then in unison: “Start talking!”
“Okay! Okay! You’ve made your point…”
Kaoru found himself spilling all of the details of the gun he and his dad had been designing. How these two crazies knew about it, he had no idea. He explained how the Tchakev 64 was a first for Untouchable: a wholly original design not based directly on any existing gun. He went into particular depth on how realistic the gun was, how even though it lacked any firing mechanisms, its weight and balance was a perfect replica of a real gun’s. The wolf and crocodile stood listening to Kaoru, slack-jawed and growing more and more awed with each detail he shared.
“Wow, this really is the coolest gun out there…” The crocodile sounded somewhat dejected. The wolf smacked him, getting agitated.
“See?! I told you.”
Kaoru scoffed. “You guys. You don’t know the half of it.”
“What…there’s more?” The wolf looked impatient, as though Kaoru had been holding out on him.
“Well, yeah. …But Dad would kill me if I told you.”
The crocodile and wolf glanced at each other uncertainly. Finally the crocodile tentatively broke the silence. “Well…we’ll just have to get this Dad guy to tell us himself!”
Munehisa Iwai frowned. The shop shouldn’t be dark, and he’d let Kaoru come in to open up so he could take care of some unfinished business. Something wasn’t right. He tried not to tense up too much when he heard a voice behind him.
“Pizza for Dad. Are you, uh, Dad?”
Iwai turned around, an even deeper scowl than normal on his face. “Yeah, but I didn’t order a pizza, so I suggest you—” Ordered or not, the freaks in front of him had a pizza, and they opened the box, letting out a noxious looking—and smelling—cloud of gas. Iwai was out in seconds.
How long he was out, Iwai couldn’t say. He returned to consciousness slowly, Kaoru’s voice snapping him back to reality. For better or for worse.
“This is good pizza!” Well, at least Kaoru was unhurt enough to be enjoying a pizza.
“Kaoru?”
Iwai was interrupted by the crocodile who was right in his face, the wolf not far behind. “Glad you could join us, Dad. Your little shop boy just spilled his guts about the Tkachev 64.”
“Kaoru, you didn’t tell them about… the Rumble Pak did you?”
“No…Dad. You just did!”
Crap. “I did?”
Kaoru nodded. “You did.”
The wolf was up in his face again. “Spill it. Big boy.”
“Make me.”
“With pleasure.” With a snap of his fingers, the wolf signaled to the crocodile to get ready. “Look at your little snowman boy now!” The two goons had hooked the Jack Frost doll up to a car battery. A flip of a switch and a current was being run through the thing. Iwai didn’t have any strong feelings about the Jack Frost mascot that seemed to be everywhere, but this whole situation was so damn silly, he couldn’t help but cry out in anguish:
“What are you doing? Not the Jack Frost doll hooked up to the battery cable torture test!” The laughing. The laughing never ceased. These guys definitely thought they were as evil as it got. After a few moments, Iwai knew he had to keep this moving or he’d get bored. “That’s enough! That’s enough! Alright…”
The crocodile and wolf got uncomfortably close again as Iwai reached into his jacket…and pulled out a very real gun.
“Back away from me and my son and get on the fucking floor.” Iwai growled. The cartoonishly evil animals threw their hands up in surrender as Iwai removed his poorly done restraints.
“You okay Dad?” Kaoru asked.
“I’m more worried about you,” Iwai said grouchily, though with a bit of affection. “Now as for you two, who the hell are you?”
“Whoa now, no need to let things get out of hand,” the wolf said placatingly.
“Out of hand? Like, say, chloroforming and interrogating us?”
“Okay, point. Look, my name is Wolf O’Donnell. My…partner, for lack of a better word, here is King K. Rool. We heard about your place and wanted to see for ourselves.”
“And you couldn’t just come in and ask like a normal person.”
“Well okay, this guy in particular has a flair for the dramatic. I just wanted info on the guns.”
“And who told you about me in the first place?”
“Guy called Joker. Said he knew you.” Iwai stopped. He knew Joker was the name the Amamiya kid went by as a Phantom Thief.
“Can you just tell us about the Rumble Pak?!” King K. Rool shouted, apparently not interested in this part of the conversation. His eye was twitching madly.
“The Rumble Pak’s nothing special,” Iwai shrugged. “Just a little doodad I cooked up that lets a model gun give realistic kickback. Now it’s my turn to ask the questions. How do you know Joker?”
“It’s a long story that I honestly don’t think you’d be that interested in,” Wolf said. “The three of us got to talking over guns. I’m a merc, and I do a bit of custom work myself.” Wolf slowly reached to his side holster. Iwai narrowed his eyes and made to aim for Wolf’s head. “I just want to show you,” Wolf said slowly, removing a sci-fi looking gun from the holster. He set it on the ground and kicked it over to Iwai.
It was an interesting piece of work, Iwai had to admit. A claw like appendage on the front apparently made it a close range weapon in a pinch, sort of like a weird bayonet.
“And what about you?” Iwai asked, pointing his gun at K. Rool. “You a gun nut too?”
“He’s just a nut,” Wolf muttered. K. Rool stuck his tongue out at that.
“I go for anything!” He said proudly. “Look at this!” He proudly held out a large blunderbuss. Iwai had never seen one like it.
“We good?” Wolf asked tentatively. Iwai grunted.
“Yeah, guess so, just untie the kid already. Untie was a strong word. Kaoru had barely been restrained in the first place. Wolf picked up his blaster and set it on a counter. K. Rool followed suit.
“Looks like you’ve tinkered with this one yourself,” Iwai said, examining the blunderbuss.
“Suction capabilities for retrieving stray shots! Or sucking up opponents, whichever suits my needs,” K. Rool said maliciously. “Of course I wish I could show you my Blast-O-Matic!”
“It’s a good thing he can’t,” Wolf said. “Like I said, he’s not all there, and that thing proves it.”
Iwai had no idea what he was getting himself into, but he had to ask. “Suction capabilities?”
“Allow me to demonstrate!” K. Rool said gleefully. Before anyone could protest, he’d shot a cannonball out of the blunderbuss. Before it could damage anything however, K. Rool had flicked a switch on the gun which started a powerful vacuum, which sucked the shot right back into the gun.
“I’ve got to know how you did that.” Iwai said simply. “Walk me through it and I’ll let all this bullshit from earlier slide.”
“Deal,” Wolf said, extending his paw. Iwai shook it and got to work.
Later, after the two freaks had left and Kaoru had long since gone home, Iwai closed up the shop and texted Ren.
Maybe give a guy a heads up before you start telling crazy pirates about my place.
Notes:
So if you've made it to the end of this chapter, you likely think I've gone batty. Which, fair. This is what this entire chapter is referencing, which honestly still makes me kind of batty. I'm legit curious how many readers will have known about that before reading this. I honestly don't remember how I hit on this idea, but it made the Iwai chapter so much fun, when previously it had been one of the ones I'd been looking forward to least. I know nothing about guns, and didn't really care to do a bunch of research for a fanfic I'm doing just for fun, so this let me get away with the barest details.
Chapter Text
Haru Okumura let out a rather undignified grunt as she heaved the bag of fertilizer. It was heavy, but just manageable for someone who moved as many bags of the stuff as she did. It was a beautiful morning, and Haru was looking to take full advantage of the day and get some quality gardening in.
The rooftop garden of Shujin paled in comparison to what Haru had built on the roof of her penthouse in the last two years. The bitter and questionable tomatoes and carrots had only improved, and she had added lettuce, cabbages, onions and peppers to her garden. She was thinking about adding some more root vegetables. Potatoes perhaps, or maybe something a bit more unusual like rutabagas.
Haru hummed cheerfully as she grabbed fistfuls of sod and gently patted them into place. Sweat rolled down her back, but she ignored it, glad of the evidence of her labor. She reached for a spade, keeping her eyes on the spot she wanted to use it on. Her hand met the ground, having missed the spade.
No matter, she’d just try again.
She missed again.
Haru frowned. Was she mistaken about where she had left the spade? She finally looked at the spot. No, she was sure she had left it there, but it wasn’t there now. She looked to her left, then back to her right. She stood up, dusting her knees off and carefully scanned the garden for any sign of it.
After just a few moments, a movement caught her eye. It was her spade, sliding along the ground seemingly under its own power. Haru raised an eyebrow. There had to be an explanation for that. She carefully took a few steps toward the spade and leaned down. As her head neared the ground, she heard what sounded like small squeaks and grunts of effort.
“Oh!” She cried in delighted surprise. Underneath the spade was a small army of little creatures. A veritable rainbow of red, yellow, blue, white, and purple, each with a leafed stalk adorning the top of their head. The cry seemed to alarm one of them, as she heard a shrill whistle, and the spade dropped to the ground as the creatures scattered. “Wait! I won’t hurt you!” Haru called out, hoping that they could understand her. Either the couldn’t, or they didn’t believe her, as every single one of the tiny creatures had vanished.
Haru’s heart fell just a bit. She would have loved to learn more about what exactly they were. She picked up the abandoned spade and returned to her work.
Minutes passed in tranquil silence. Haru had never been too into the whole zen thing, but gardening did give her a sense of peace that she had yet to find anywhere else. The wind picked up pleasantly, teasing its way under her hat and through her hair. Haru sighed contentedly, about ready to take a break.
She was about to get to her feet when she heard that whistling sound again. She leaned close to the ground, looking for any sign of the creatures. She gasped when she saw that they were in a fight for their lives against an animal of some sort that Haru had never seen before. The creatures threw themselves at it and at the direction of the whistle, keeping the larger creature off its guard. Scanning the group, Haru finally found the source of the whistling: a tiny little man, hardly bigger than the other creatures, wearing a space suit.
“Hello,” Haru said tentatively. “Did you need any help?”
The little man jumped in surprise, but didn’t direct his small army to flee. Instead, they kept bombarding the creature until it slumped over in defeat, a spectral cloud arising from its lifeless corpse. The little things jumped up and down in celebration, and got to work moving their slain enemy.
Haru watched in fascination, as they paraded the body of the larger enemy through her garden and off to a space near the wall where a small rocket ship was waiting, along with what looked to be something like a UFO. The small creatures marched to the UFO, and placed the enemy beneath it. A tractor beam of sorts minimized their spoils and sucked it up. Haru continued watching in amazement as tiny little seeds exploded from the UFO in a rainbow of color that matched the creatures. The little spaceman with the whistle and pointy ears got to work pulling up the leafy buds that had instantly popped above ground, revealing more of the plant-like soldiers he commanded.
“My goodness,” she said aloud. “I’m sure you keep busy keeping their numbers up!”
The small alien man turned to look at her for the first time since the scuffle. He appraised her cautiously. Haru leaned back slightly, trying to appear un-intimidating.
“I’ve never seen a bug like that before, how did it get into my garden I wonder?” Haru asked aloud, unsure the alien could understand her, or if he would answer if he could. At least, she assumed it was a bug of some kind, it looked most like a slug she supposed, what with the eyes sitting on stalks, although she’d never seen a slug with legs or a mouth before.
Her thoughts of the mysterious enemy were interrupted by a small troop of the yellow creatures marching to the vicinity of the rocket ship, proudly carrying a bottle cap. Another troop of the red ones followed with a double-A battery, and a mixture of the blue and purple brought up the rear with Haru’s spade.
More curious about what they were doing than concerned about the spade, Haru watched as the bottle cap vanished into the ship by similar means that the slug-like thing had vanished into the UFO. The leader of the band looked happy with the spoils his troops were bringing him as the battery followed suit. Haru wondered whether she should stop them from taking the spade, when the decision was taken out of her hands.
“Watch out!” She shouted as she grabbed the spade, scattering the small laborers. She smacked the ground near them with the spade, just missing another one of the slug-like things, and what looked to be a sort of snake with a bird’s head.
That definitely wasn’t native to Tokyo.
Although Haru had certainly helped with her swift action, the captain was already on top of it, directing his army into groups to tackle both of these new enemies at once.
Haru was getting the feeling that these little fellows weren’t from around her neck of the woods, so she took her phone out, and began recording a video.
“Hello Ren-kun,” she narrated. “I’m seeing the most unusual pests in my garden, have you ever seen anything like them?” She forwarded the video, hoping Ren wasn’t too busy to answer quickly. Her luck won out as Ren texted back almost immediately.
Oh, that’s Captain Olimar and the Pikmin. They were at the party at Leblanc, but they’re pretty easy to miss.
Looks like they accidentally brought a few of the hostile fauna from their world. They should be able to take care of it.
Well that was good, Haru didn’t need these things running around her garden unchecked. As Haru thought about this, Ren sent another message.
If you have any honey or sugar or anything like that, it’ll help them out.
Haru dashed inside to grab the small bottle of honey in her pantry, and rushed back out.
“Hello Captain!” She greeted Olimar. “Our mutual friend tells me I should help out your Pikmin with this!” She delicately squirted a small puddle of honey into the soil. Instantly, a few of the Pikmin swarmed it and before she knew it, it was gone, and their leafy heads had bloomed into flowers. “How pretty!” Haru gasped in appreciation at the lovely white petals that were spreading throughout the army as more Pikmin came to partake. Haru obligingly distributed more honey to the Pikmin, placing several small puddles at her feet. “But I don’t understand how that’s going to help…”
At another whistle from Olimar, the Pikmin resumed their efforts against the hostile aliens. It seemed that having bloomed into flowers, the Pikmin were both stronger and faster than they had been before. Furthermore, when some of the Pikmin were inevitably taken out by their larger opponent, Haru could see a small seed erupt from the dying Pikmin, which settled into the ground.
Haru watched in amazement as an entire lifecycle unfolded before her.
Carry.
Fight.
Multiply.
Be eaten.
If Olimar was perturbed by the Pikmin he lost, he didn’t let it distract him from keeping the rest safe. Before Haru knew it, the garden was clear of anything that would endanger the Pikmin.
“I suppose if they’d been left to their own devices, they might have become real pests in my garden!” Haru said to Olimar. “I’m very grateful to you for taking care of it!”
Small though he was, Olimar’s gesture of a salute was clear enough to Haru.
The sun was edging closer to the apex of its daily circuit.
“I think I’m done gardening for now,” Haru said. “I’m going to go inside and get cleaned up, but you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like!”
Tiny squeaks and chitters followed Haru as she approached the door into her penthouse apartment. She turned around. Some of the Pikmin had curiously followed her and were looking up at her expectantly.
Haru giggled, delighted at the tiny things.
“I’m sorry, I think you’d better stay out there. You’ll be safe with Captain Olimar!”
She could almost swear that some of them tilted their heads, as if trying to understand.
Haru continued about her day, her thoughts periodically darting back outside to the garden. When this happened, she would head back up to the roof and take a glance outside. Now that she knew to look for them, she could readily see the Pikmin busily scurrying about, picking up anything that piqued their curiosity, with Olimar perched on one of the lawn chairs situated on the roof, surveying his troops.
As the day neared its close, Haru decided to make one final check.
The sun was just beginning to set as she stepped back out into the garden. The Pikmin were busier than ever, it seemed almost all of them was carrying something they’d found and carting it over to the rocket ship, which then sucked them up.
Olimar let out a sharp whistle, grabbing the attention of every Pikmin on the roof. Obediently, they dropped what they were doing and returned to the UFO-like device, which in turn transported them inside, in a similar manner to the rocket ship and the various things that had been carried to it.
“Is it time for you to go?” Haru asked. Olimar nodded. “Oh, I’m sorry to see you go so soon,” Haru said sadly. “Please promise you’ll visit again!” Olimar nodded eagerly and turned around to return to his ship.
“Oh! Wait a moment!” Haru cried out suddenly. Olimar stopped and glanced curiously at Haru. Haru rushed over to the small shed where she kept all of her gardening tools, implements and other supplies.
“Here! You forgot this,” she said, gently placing her spade in front of the rocket ship. The ship’s tractor beam did its work, and the spade vanished. Olimar bowed gratefully and entered the ship himself. Moments later, it was taking off into the sky, followed by the Pikmin’s vessel.
“Goodbye!” Haru called as she waved after them. She took a look at her garden, curious to see if any change would be evident.
She gasped in surprise as she noticed a new addition. A row of small white flowers at the edge of the garden. She leaned down and examined them closely. While it was a near perfect resemblance, these were certainly ordinary flowers, not Pikmin. She took a picture, hoping to identify it later.
Haru paused in thought for a moment, then got her phone out to text Ren, sending him the picture.
Your friend is quite the gardener!
Notes:
This is another chapter that I had the idea for right away. I thought it was a pretty natural pairing! I've been contemplating holding off on updating any further until I complete the story, but I haven't made a decision. I'm working on multiple chapters at once, but I really like the feeling of posting it as soon as I decide it's done, so who knows.
I actually just finished Royal for the first time. (Go figure, I buy it and then a few months later it's announced to be coming to Switch. Damn you Sega and Atlus.) I'm glad Haru got a bit more to do in it, but I'm always bad about a) getting her to plant vegetables, and b) remembering to actually USE the vegetables once I've harvested them. I don't think I used either of the new ones that she can grow in Royal at all!
I've only ever beaten the first Pikmin, despite owning all three (and Hey Pikmin!, but people act like that one killed their dog or something). So I wouldn't call it one of my all-time favorites, but it's certainly a top quality series from a creative standpoint.
Chapter Text
Dusty sunbeams cut through the chilled air of the Kanda church. Being that it was a Catholic Church in the vicinity of Tokyo, the small chapel often wasn’t busy. With Christmas approaching however, it was livelier than normal. Still, Hifumi Togo was pleased to see that her usual pew was undisturbed, and other visitors to the church were giving it plenty of space. Space enough for her to set up her board and practice.
The revelation that her matches had been fixed still stung. Hifumi frowned and refocused on setting up her exercises. No use in dwelling on regrets, she was making amends as best she could. Her mother was too, for that matter. She had loosened up considerably since the Phantom Thieves had changed her heart, asking Hifumi more and more about interests she might hold other than shogi. Hifumi remembered in mortification that she had even teased her about liking Ren recently.
It wasn’t untrue…but better not dwelt on. She was only glad the mysterious boy in question hadn’t been present at the time.
She hadn’t seen Ren in a while, come to think of it. She knew he was living in Tokyo again, but according to Kitagawa, he was often away for some sort of obligation.
Obligation. There was a word Hifumi was glad to be seeing less of. She frowned as she moved pieces against each other, testing out various stratagems, thinking of everything she no longer had to do. Those embarrassing modeling shoots for one. She was still hailed as the gorgeous “Venus of Shogi,” but Hifumi was done trading on her looks to gain a reputation.
She felt a slight change in the air. She smiled, familiar with the sensation of Ren watching her play herself in shogi.
“I’ve been wondering when you’d come by again,” she said. “You should have texted! We could have grabbed lunch first.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I know you,” came the apologetic answer. Hifumi turned a deep shade of crimson. That voice wasn’t familiar at all.
“I’m so sorry! I thought you were a friend of mine!” She turned around to face the young man who’d been watching her.
He did almost bear a passing resemblance to Ren. Actually, he almost looked like Kitagawa too. Same delicate features, though his hair was blue and he didn’t wear glasses. He was dressed in some sort of armored costume (a cosplayer perhaps?) with a very fancy looking cape, and an elegantly crafted sword on his hip.
“No, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to disturb you, I was just interested in the game you’re playing.”
“Oh! Are you a shogi fan too?”
“I can’t say that I know for sure. I’ve never played.”
Hifumi smiled. Before, her mother would have balked at giving free lessons to unproven newcomers, but it cheered Hifumi to bring the joys of shogi to someone new. She rarely had the chance in this church, a realization which made Hifumi wonder if maybe she should start playing in other places as well. As good as her games with the priest were, some new blood was needed.
“If you’d like, I can show you,” she offered, gesturing at the board. The young man nodded.
“I’d like that very much.”
“I’m Hifumi Togo,” she introduced herself with a polite bow. “In case you didn’t know.”
“I didn’t,” the young man said earnestly. “It’s nice to meet you. You may call me Marth.”
Marth carried himself with dignity and poise. Something about him was inherently charming- another similarity to Ren, Hifumi realized. Despite his regal bearing, he sat down across from her with an ease that communicated that he was used to talking to all kinds of people.
"I've gathered that shogi is a sort of strategy game," Marth offered as Hifumi set the board.
"Yes," she said. "It's fairly comparable to chess."
"Ah, now chess I know," Marth said, smiling as though the game held several good memories for him.
"Then you should be a quick study," Hifumi said reassuringly. “The goal is the same as chess: to place the king in checkmate. Some of the pieces are quite different however.”
Marth nodded in rapt attention, watching as Hifumi pointed out each piece.
“Each piece gets promoted when it reaches the furthest rank, not just the pawns,” Hifumi explained. “And when you capture a piece, it can be placed on the board as one of your pieces.”
“Huh. I think I’m more familiar with this game than I thought,” Marth said plaintively.
“Wonderful!” Hifumi said. “Shall we begin then?”
“Ready when you are,” Marth said, studying the board carefully.
“Oh, you may have noticed that the pieces are all the same color,” Hifumi pointed out. “Shogi uses a rather unique method to determine who goes first. Would you like to try?”
“Sure,” Marth said, smiling as Hifumi handed him five pawn pieces.
“Toss them onto the board,” Hifumi instructed. “If you have more promoted pawns than not, you get to go first.”
The toss was made, and Marth came up short.
“Very well, I shall be black and begin the game,” Hifumi said, feeling herself gear up for her usual energy while playing a match. “Go forth Pawn of Indefatigability!”
Hifumi didn’t often get self-conscious about her habit of calling out her moves with over-the-top names, though the barest hint of embarrassment threatened to push itself to the front of her mind. Marth however, picked up a piece with equal gusto and shouted:
“I’m counting on you Gordin!”
Hifumi raised an eyebrow at such an unimpressive name, but was too polite to remark on it.
“Charge, Lance of Burning Justice!”
“Jaegen! It’s up to you!”
“Shooting Star assault!”
“Cut them off at the flank, Caeda!”
“Hold on, that’s a lance, it can only move straight ahead,” Hifumi said, pointing at the illegal move Marth had just made. “One of the pieces that doesn’t have an analogue in chess. This one is the rook.”
“Oh, I see. …Cut them off at the flank, Abel!”
The game continued in this fashion for some time. However, it wasn’t long before Hifumi knew she had this match in the bag—not that it had ever been in question.
“I’m afraid you won’t be recovering from this maneuver. Eternal Abyss Yagura Gate!”
And with that, Marth’s king was in check.
“Well played,” Marth said graciously, shaking Hifumi’s hand.
“Likewise,” Hifumi said. “For someone who had never played, you’re quite talented!”
Marth shook his head. “I think it’s less talent than relevant experience.”
“You mean with chess?”
“Oh, something like that.”
Hifumi wondered if he meant that to be as cryptic as it sounded. She decided to refocus the conversation on shogi. “What did you think?”
Marth nodded contemplatively. “It’s certainly an interesting game. I’m not sure I fully understand the promotion system. Seems like the pieces become less useful after they promote.”
“I can see how you’d come to that conclusion,” Hifumi said. “Some of the pieces do lose a few spaces they can move to. But there’s typically a tradeoff. And of course some, like the bishop or rook, become far more versatile.”
Marth nodded as he surveyed the board. He really was quite pretty. She decided to shoot her shot.
“If you’d like,” she hoped she didn’t sound too forward, “I could show you a bookstore I quite like with a number of good books on shogi strategy.” Was that too ambiguous? It didn’t matter, Marth’s face lit up.
“That sounds fun!” He declared. “Let’s go!”
Marth kindly helped her pack up her shogi set, and even offered to carry it for her. Not even Ren was that smooth.
“Don’t get too excited, he’s probably not actively trying to charm you,” her rational half cautioned. Ah, but it was really nice to have somebody offer to carry something for you.
Marth didn’t seem too used to the idea of train fare. He didn’t have a train pass, which he clearly had forgotten entirely about until the stile wouldn’t let him through at the station. Hifumi giggled at his nonplussed confusion as she did him a favor and lent him her pass.
“Do you not have trains where you’re from?” She teased while she quickly counted out change to buy her own ticket.
“No, we don’t have anything like this back home!” Marth said excitedly, gazing in awe as the dark shapes of the subway tunnel shot past them. Again, probably a bit more cryptic than he meant. Where in Japan did he live that a train was such a foreign concept to him?
Book Town was as quaint as ever. Hifumi pointed out her favorites to Marth, which he regarded with excited curiosity. Before long, he’d also wandered over to the fiction section where he seemed particularly enthralled by a book about mythical dragons.
He really was a fantasy nut, huh?
“Do you like reading?” She asked, peeking around his shoulder at the lushly illustrated volume.
“I love it. Never seem to have enough time for it though. Caeda says I need to be better about making time.”
She’d heard that name before, but where?
“And Caeda is?”
“Oh, my betrothed.”
“ACK!”
Hifumi hid her shock as best she could even as her mind went momentarily blank. Thank goodness it had come up so early before she could truly make a fool of herself. “Your betrothed?” She finally asked. Nope, that wasn’t lame at all.
“Oh yes, we’ve known each other for years. Been through a lot together in that time. And of course there’s a strong political reason for the match, but I’m fortunate beyond belief that there’s genuine love as well.”
“Congratulations,” Hifumi said, hoping her smile didn’t look forced. If it did, Marth said nothing, only smiling in acknowledgment, and obvious fondness for his bride-to-be. Something was bothering her though. “How old are you?”
“Nineteen,” Marth answered. He didn’t pay the question any mind.
“I couldn’t imagine getting married at nineteen,” Hifumi admitted. She really hoped that didn’t sound judgmental. Marth cocked an eyebrow in confusion.
“No? I suppose it may be a bit different for us. Royal families tend to marry off their heirs as soon as possible.”
He’d said it so casually, Hifumi almost missed it. She gaped at him in utter shock. “Royal? Like a—”
“Oh, apologies, I should have mentioned. I am Marth, Prince of Altea. Heir of the Hero Anri, wielder of the holy Falchion, slayer of Shadow Dragon Medeus.”
Ah, he was in character for his cosplay. That made sense. Hifumi laughed. “I have to admit, you really had me going there.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, a prince, dragons, holy swords?”
“Yes?”
The confusion, bordering on hurt, on Marth’s face looked genuine. Hifumi faltered. “Y-you’re just cosplaying, right? Playing a character?” Marth shook his head. Oh boy, had she spent the afternoon with a psycho?
“There’s one other thing I should have led with,” Marth admitted sheepishly. “I didn’t come across you by chance. A mutual friend recommended I seek you out to play shogi with.”
“Mutual friend?”
“Yes, Ren Amamiya.”
Well, if anybody in this world was going to know a dragon-slaying prince, Hifumi supposed it would be Ren.
“Yes, you should have!” Hifumi said. “I would have taken you at your word instead of assuming you were joking! Why wouldn’t you mention that? Let alone that you’re royalty?”
Marth shrugged. It was such a casual gesture, but he made even that look regal. “I’m not usually one to stand on ceremony. I’ve spent much of the last few years at war. Living among my comrades, the distinction between common and noble does blur a bit after a while.”
“So that’s what you meant when you said relevant experience,” Hifumi said weakly. She remembered now where she’d heard Caeda’s name before: as one of Marth’s shogi pieces. He must have named them after his friends and comrades. Come to think of it, she had clocked Marth’s ease around different types of people as well.
Marth chuckled. “Yes, sorry about that. I must have given you all sorts of wrong ideas.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad I got to match wits with a seasoned tactician.”
“Oh, I’m no tactician. Come to think of it, I wonder how you’d fare against Robin…”
In spite of her embarrassment, Hifumi was glad that they were still getting on well. “Well you’re welcome to a rematch any time, and you’re more than welcome to bring a friend with you. Any friend of Ren’s is a friend of mine.”
“Ah wonderful! Then I’m sure you’ll love Robin,” Marth beamed. He held up the fantasy book and one of the shogi books Hifumi had guided him to. “I should probably get going, but I think I’m going to buy these.”
Hifumi tried not to be too amused when Marth had a comparable trouble with money to the confusion he’d had with trains. In short order, he had paid for his books, and they had gone their separate ways.
Or so she’d thought.
“Oh! Just a moment, I still have your shogi set!”
Hifumi buried her face in her hands, feeling the warmth emanating from it. “Ah! I’m so sorry, I’m normally not so forgetful!”
Marth laughed as he handed off the set. Hifumi paused a moment, and then opened the case up.
“I want you to have this,” she said to Marth as she pressed a king piece into his hand.
“But won’t you be unable to play without it?”
“I have plenty of other sets, and it’s not hard to get replacement pieces,” Hifumi said. “I just wouldn’t feel right about meeting a king and not having some kind of tribute.”
Marth laughed at that, an honest, good natured laugh.
“I thank you,” he said, playfully putting on airs. He became more serious. “You’re a worthy opponent. You have the makings of royalty yourself. Never forget it.”
With a final wave, they parted for real. Hifumi watched as Marth blended into the crowd, none of whom seemed concerned by his attire or sword.
She sighed. If only he had been single…
Notes:
I actually finished this chapter weeks ago. I've got most of two other chapters done, but one of those is the epilogue, so...
Yeah, I don't think I like sitting on finished chapters. I'd rather just get them out.
I knew at some point I'd have to do a chapter on the strategy of Fire Emblem paired with Hifumi. Problem was, I knew nothing about shogi, and even after trying to learn it I know very little. So I'm hopeful that this chapter's strong points will make up for the lack of specificity on any finer points.
Chapter Text
Rain beat down on Shibuya’s Central Street. Springtime meant new storms as the weather warmed back up, and this was but a prelude to the typhoons that Tokyo would see later in the summer.
Makoto Niijima was glad that she’d thought to bring an umbrella with her to her classes for the day. Starting her workout dry was going to be far more comfortable than starting it soaked through. Despite the protection of the umbrella, Makoto hurried on her way and reached the gym right on schedule. As she shook the rain off her umbrella, a familiar voice called her.
“Makoto-senpai! You made it!”
Makoto laughed fondly as Sumire Yoshizawa bowed politely from where she was standing on a mat. “We’ve been friends for years now, Sumire. You can just call me Makoto.”
Sumire shook her head, though a broad grin was on her face, as was the norm these days. “Sorry, but I’ve learned so much from you and the others, you’ll always be my senpai!”
Makoto smiled as she decided not to force the issue. She knew that Sumire still felt somewhat awkward around her in particular, seeing as she was dating Ren, who Sumire had not-so-subtly had feelings for once upon a time. Not being a jealous person by nature, Makoto was determined to help Sumire feel more comfortable about it. After all, it wasn’t Sumire’s fault that Ren was so effortlessly charming and caring to a fault.
Makoto focused up before she could find herself daydreaming about her boyfriend in public. “So, are you ready to begin?”
“Ready when you are, senpai!”
“Very good. Then let’s start by having you lead us in stretching.”
While Makoto was no stranger to stretching and fitness, Sumire’s expertise as a gymnast was invaluable in their time working out together. On a few occasions, Sumire’s trainer Coach Hiraguchi had even been present to supervise them and give pointers.
Today, however, it seemed that they were to be observed by an altogether different kind of trainer.
“Breathe slowly as you hold this pose,” a cool voice instructed as the two girls stretched. Makoto was curious, but held the stretch as long as was required before stopping to take a look and see who was attempting to join them. Upon seeing the familiar face, Makoto chuckled in disbelief, and transitioned into the next step of the stretch.
“Do you know her, senpai?” Sumire asked, her confusion evident.
“I do, actually,” Makoto said. “We met on one occasion: that party at Leblanc you couldn’t make it to.”
“Oh! The you-know-what party?” Sumire whispered.
“That’s the one.”
“Goodness!” Sumire gasped in surprise. The woman mirroring their stretching was snow-white, like a mannequin come to life. Her remarkably toned body was advantageously displayed in her wardrobe of yoga pants and a midriff-baring tank top emblazoned with “Wii Fit.”
“Focus on holding your balance,” the Wii Fit Trainer said calmly as she transitioned into a new pose; the tree pose to be precise. Makoto and Sumire copied her in perfect unison.
The pose was held for several seconds. Makoto could feel the stretch in her spine. She grounded herself, feeling the connection between her spine and her legs, one tucked up and resting on the other, and the ground. She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. Rain beat against the windows. She was at peace, even as she was constantly aware of her balance.
“Senpai,” Sumire whispered. “Should we just let her guide us?”
“Might as well,” Makoto said aloud. “I’m finding this helpful, and very relaxing.”
“Good, me too!”
“Focus on keeping your center of balance stable,” the Trainer advised. She relaxed into mountain pose, and then bent into a half-moon. “Breathe in and out slowly as you maintain that pose.”
Makoto and Sumire followed suit. “Inhale through your nose. Exhale through your nose.” Makoto had never had a regular yoga practice as part of her workout routine, but she was starting to think she could be convinced. “Great, keep it up!” She’d have to find a trainer equally encouraging as the Wii Fit Trainer. “Now, return to your original position.” In unison the three women straightened out. “Now, let’s work on the other side.”
Half an hour flew by as the Wii Fit Trainer walked Makoto and Sumire through a repertoire of yoga poses.
Makoto bowed politely. “Thank you very much.” She looked over at Sumire. “What do you think? Do you have a sparring session in you still?”
“Yes! Absolutely! I feel so loosened up, I’m ready for anything!”
“Then what say we have a two-on-two match?” A male voice asked from the doorway to the gym.
Now this newcomer Makoto did not know. He wasn’t exactly dressed for working out, but at the same time he didn’t seem out of place in a gym. For one thing, he was ripped, and Makoto wasn’t just thinking about the obviously torn sleeves of his t-shirt.
“Terry, you made it!” The Wii Fit Trainer greeted. It was the first thing she’d said that wasn’t advice or guidance.
Terry grinned and gave a big thumbs-up. “Wouldn’t have missed it! When Joker said he knew incredible fighters back home, I had to see for myself.”
“So you are friends with Joker,” Makoto said. “I don’t remember seeing you at the Leblanc party.”
“That’s right. Terry hadn’t joined the roster yet; he was invited shortly after Joker,” the Wii Fit Trainer explained.
Sumire pulled Makoto aside and whispered. “Are we sure about this?”
“Yeah…I think so,” Makoto said. “He doesn’t seem like a bad guy, at least not any of the ones Ren encounters in Smash. And it’s just sparring, it could be instructive!”
“Okay then, we’ll take you on!” Sumire said, trying to display perhaps a bit too much confidence and pointing directly at Terry.
Terry didn’t seem to mind, in fact he seemed to get a kick out of Sumire’s cockiness. “Okay! Tag-team rules. I’ll go first for my side.”
“Let me handle this,” Makoto said to Sumire. The girl may have been a talented gymnast, but Makoto was the martial artist, and she didn’t want Sumire underestimating Terry.
“Hey, come on come on!” Terry said, beckoning impatiently to Makoto. She grit her teeth but didn’t rise to the taunt. Instead she obliged him and made a careful first strike, which he blocked and returned with a side kick.
Makoto grunted as she felt the impact. Terry was attempting to follow up, but she raised a block, and returned with her own three-hit combo.
They traded blows back and forth until Terry startled Makoto by calling out “Crack Shoot!” as he somersaulted forward, nailing Makoto in the shoulder with a sturdy kick.
“Tag out, senpai!” Sumire shouted as she rushed in. Terry was bearing down on Sumire, but she gracefully dodged every strike, while working in a few of her own. Terry was hard to wear down, though. And he was breaking out more of these special moves.
“Burn Knuckle! Rising Tackle! Power Wave! Power Dunk!”
Sumire continued dodging, but she was starting to lose steam. Makoto made to tag in, when suddenly Sumire slid underneath Terry’s stance and landed a solid hit in the small of his back.
“Nice one!” Makoto called out. Sumire flashed a grin as Terry stumbled forward. The Wii Fit Trainer saw this as her opportunity to tag in. In a flash of motion, she landed a series of blows on Sumire using nothing but the yoga poses she had just walked them through. Makoto watched intently, studying the Trainer’s movements, looking for an opening that she could exploit should she go up against her.
“No!” Sumire cried out as the Trainer managed a particularly good shot. It looked like she was down for the count.
Well, Makoto had faced down worse odds. She grit her teeth and leaped back into action. The Trainer’s flow was impeccable. She was able to evade Makoto’s blows just as often as she struck.
Inhaling deeply, Makoto closed her eyes and willed herself to focus. As the Trainer’s outstretched palm came within range, Makoto grabbed her wrist and threw her over her shoulder. It was a bit more judo than aikido, but clearly a bit of extra oomph was called for.
The Trainer was already back on her feet and closing in again. Makoto took advantage of her interrupted flow to continually turn her attacks aside, hoping to wear her out. Just as it seemed that she would do so, Terry sprang back in and tagged his partner out.
Makoto tried to continue the strategy, knowing that she couldn’t out-brute force Terry, but he was skilled as well as strong. He knew how to anticipate her moves, and it seemed that he was now taking her more seriously.
Even though it was supposed to be a friendly sparring match, Makoto found herself wanting to win. She grit her teeth as Terry continued piling on her, dodging when she could, and blocking when she couldn’t. Finally, her frustration built to a boiling point and she called out “Charge, Johanna!” To her immense surprise, the spectral image of her Persona appeared for a brief moment, accompanied by the telltale blue flash of a Frei spell. Terry was caught off guard as well, stumbling backward.
“Well,” he said, smirking appreciatively. “Looks like your fighting spirit’s been set ablaze!”
“Let’s end this,” Makoto growled. Terry shook his head and held up his hands.
“Nah, you’ve got nothing to prove to me. You’re good.”
“Come on!” Makoto screamed in frustration. “I’m just getting warmed up!” She reached a hand to her face, forgetting that there was no mask on it now. Nevertheless, Johanna’s form flickered, but vanished instantly. No burst of nuclear energy.
“What?!?”
“Let’s all calm down,” the Wii Fit Trainer suggested. “It’s important to take care of yourself after a workout as well as before. Let’s do some more deep breathing.”
Makoto let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “I’m sorry, I got really heated there and I don’t know why.”
Terry flashed another one of those thumbs-up. “Don’t worry about it! You’ve got that fighting spirit in you. Back home, that’s pretty valuable.”
Makoto pondered this as they continued their breathing exercises. She could feel herself cooling down and relaxing.
“How are you feeling?” The Wii Fit Trainer finally asked. Sumire looked at Makoto expectantly.
Makoto hesitated before answering. “It’s…exhilarating I guess is the word. But I can’t really place why. I feel like I should hate you,” she said to Terry. “But I don’t. I don’t even feel frustrated that you clearly came out on top in that fight.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t say that,” Terry said.
“I would,” Makoto insisted. “I’ve been practicing martial arts since I was young, but I’ve clearly got a long way to go.”
“Don’t be discouraged, senpai!” Sumire said, placing a hand on Makoto’s shoulder.
Makoto shook her head. “I’m not discouraged. If anything, I feel more determined than ever to keep at it. Improvement never ends. And as long as I can improve, I will!”
Sumire smiled as she toweled off. “You’re really inspiring, did you know that?”
Makoto could feel herself going red. “Oh, no, I’m nothing special…”
“Hey.” Sumire was suddenly dead serious. “I won’t hear anyone talking about my good friend’s girlfriend that way. Not even herself.”
She was so earnest, Makoto couldn’t help but be touched by the sentiment. Though Terry and the Wii Fit Trainer remained silent, it was evident that they agreed.
Sumire was packing up her bag. “I have to run, but thank you so much senpai! Same time next week?”
“Certainly,” Makoto said as she waved goodbye. She still felt a little dizzy from what had to be adrenaline. The Wii Fit Trainer and Terry were lightly sparring now. It was entrancing to watch in its own way.
Finally however, it was time for Makoto to leave as well.
“We’ll have a rematch one of these days,” she promised Terry, shaking his hand.
“Just a sec,” Terry said before she could leave. “Joker mentioned that you all had codenames. I’d like to know who I’ll be facing down next time.”
Makoto found herself turning on her heel and staring Terry dead in the eyes as she proclaimed “Queen.”
Terry seemed to like that. “Back home, we have a little something called The King of Fighters. Take it from me, you have what it takes to be the Queen of Fighters.”
The Queen of Fighters. Makoto had to admit she didn’t hate the sound of that.
“Of course, it’s a team event, and there’s already a Team Women Fighters, you might want to find a team of your own.”
Makoto found herself imagining participating in such a tournament alongside Ann, Haru, and even Sumire. It came naturally, given everything they had been through. Deciding to take a leaf out of Terry’s book and put a cocky period on the conversation, Makoto turned back to the door and said “Don’t worry, I’ve got that part covered.”
Notes:
Wow, that year+ flew by. Sorry for the wait! I can't promise that chapters will be coming any faster, but I do want to assure you all that I am not quitting on this. I've just got a busy life. I work full time, and have very time consuming hobbies. Oh, but on the fun side, I actually went to Japan for the first time this past September! Shibuya is a lot of fun, but sadly, I was not actively thinking about absorbing any additional details for this story. Maybe a future chapter will make some use of my experience. Anyway, on top of that, inspiration for the minutiae of this story comes as it pleases (most of this chapter was done for a loooooong time). No, I'm far more likely to get an idea for a new fic I want to write, start in on it, and then let that one get hit by writer's block as well. Yay. No, seriously, I have way too many fic ideas right now, but I don't want to attend to any of them fully until I get this project done.
Anyhow.
Terry was a later addition to this, and I feel like it's what tied the whole thing together. I struggle to imagine myself writing about exercise alone for an entire chapter. And with Ryu and Ken already used in the last story, Terry made the most sense to use as a fighting game rep, even if I'm not super into SNK games.
Chapter Text
Another day, another date canceled at the last minute.
Yuuki Mishima tried not to take it personally. No, taking it personally led to a very destructive train of thought, and he’d had enough of twisted desire, thank you.
Still, it was hard not to let it hurt his feelings just a bit. Or wonder if there was something wrong with him that utterly repelled those of the feminine persuasion.
He shook those thoughts from his head. Amamiya wouldn't let that get him down. Or would he? It was moments like this where Mishima had to concede that he didn’t know Amamiya as well as he’d like. Briefly, he contemplated inviting Amamiya out, but in all honesty he didn’t feel like airing his grievances to Amamiya this time.
The night was young however, and since Mishima was already out and about, he decided that he might as well hit an arcade. His phone buzzed and he groaned, wondering what else could possibly go wrong.
As it turned out, it was Sakamoto of all people.
Hey, apparently there’s some guy going around Shibuya asking where Mishima is. You know anything about that?
Mishima bit back the response that his family name wasn’t exactly uncommon, but did a quick check of the new and improved Phan-Site to see if anything stood out.
Not a clue. He finally responded to Sakamoto. How’d you hear about it? I don’t see anything on the Phan-Site.
Apparently Ann and Haru saw him near an arcade. Seemed a bit weird.
I’ll let you know if I find anything.
That wasn’t going to happen. He didn’t see any strange man accosting strangers, so Mishima was going to go into this arcade and play so much Gun About he’d see targeting reticles in his sleep.
This plan was stymied when he saw the group of cosplayers at the cabinet.
“How does this thing work, exactly?” One of them asked his friend.
“Uhhh I think you just aim the gun at the screen, and shoot the target. You know, like the Ray Gun item? Or the Super Scope?”
“Oh, I see. Well then, let’s go!”
Mishima watched as these apparent noobs tried their hand at the game. The first one was out in less than a minute.
“Let me try,” the other one said. He had slightly better luck, but in the end, he too was out quickly.
Mishima didn’t want to be a stickler, but he also didn’t want them hogging the machine. Figuring an indirect approach would work best, he stepped forward. “Wow, fantastic cosplays! You make them yourself?”
Like any good nerd, Mishima recognized the characters. Hell, he didn’t have to be a nerd to recognize the Hero of the latest Dragon Quest. He was a full blooded Japanese youth, after all! And the one who had done better at the game was somewhat fittingly costumed as underdog protagonist Pit of Kid Icarus fame.
“Um, cosplay?” ‘Pit’ asked in confusion.
Mishima responded with a good natured laugh. “Your outfits,” he said patiently. “Love the attention to detail. And I love the games they’re from.”
“Ohhh right,” ‘Pit’ said, conspicuously winking at ‘Hero.’
“Thank you,” ‘Hero’ responded, not sure what else to say.
“First time playing Gun About?” Mishima asked, figuring if nothing else, he could get his time in by showing them the ropes.
“Yeah, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a game like this!” ‘Pit’ said.
That took Mishima by surprise. “Really? It’s one of the most popular games in the world!”
“I dunno what to tell ya.”
“Well why don’t I show you how it’s done?” Mishima offered, assertively taking the position and inserting his yen. It wasn’t a bad round for Mishima, but he felt particularly self-conscious about his performance with an audience.
“Hey, not bad,” a new voice said. A young kid had joined their throng. Mishima vaguely recognized him, but couldn’t place where from.
“Thanks, want me to give you some pointers?”
The kid shook his head. “Thanks, but I think I’m good. I’m kinda known for knowing my way around Gun About.”
Mishima suddenly realized how he knew this kid. “Oh duh, you’re the King, aren’t you?”
“Ah, I don’t really go by that any more. I’m Shinya Oda.”
“Yuuki Mishima. I think we have a mutual friend.”
“Mutual friend? Who would we—Oh!!!! You mean Amamiya, don’t you?”
“I was in his class,” Mishima said proudly. Shinya gaped in reverence.
“He really helped me out a while back,” Shinya said. “He’s the coolest!”
“Yeah, he really is!” ‘Pit’ added.
Mishima glanced sideways at the cosplayers. “Wait, you know him too? I don’t recognize you from Shujin…”
“We’re not exactly from around here,” ‘Hero’ said. “Let’s leave it at that.”
Mishima wasn’t content to just let that go, but he put a pin in it for the time being.
“You want a turn, Oda?” Mishima asked. Oda's attention had been caught by something else, however.
“Whoa, what’s that?” He pointed at a dilapidated cabinet that Mishima had never seen in here before.
“I can’t believe it! It’s a Duck Hunt cabinet!”
Oda instantly grasped the significance. “Oh wow, I’ve never seen one before! I’ve gotta try it!”
In short order, Oda was staring down a chortling canine firing futile blanks at his new nemesis. “Stupid dog,” he grunted, handing the gun to Mishima. “You wanna try?”
“Oh hey, we know that guy!” ‘Pit’ said, grabbing ‘Hero’s’ attention from his latest attempt at Gun About. Before Mishima could ask him to explain that statement, the game went haywire. The dog leapt out form behind his hiding place in the tall grass and barked at the screen. Mishima hadn’t even known those animations existed! Before he could process this, the dog leapt forward again, this time straight through the cabinet’s monitor.
Mishima and Oda screamed in surprise as a full-size dog found itself in the middle of the arcade accompanied by a pink-feathered duck.
“Wh-how-why-where” Mishima could only stammer.
“Duck Hunt!” ‘Pit’ scolded. “You know you’re not supposed to exit that way! Get back in there before someone sees you!”
“The dog’s name is Duck Hunt?” Mishima weakly asked.
“What? No, that’s silly. His name is Duck. The duck’s name is Hunt.”
“Ah yes, far more reasonable,” Mishima said, still trying to determine if he was actually awake or if this was an exceedingly weird dream. “So then you’re actually…Pit and the Hero?”
“I prefer Eleven, but yes.”
“Sorry, nobody’s really supposed to know that we’re here,” Pit explained. “These excursions aren’t exactly above board, but everybody does them anyway.”
At that moment, something caught the dog’s attention, and he bolted off barking like mad. “Oh great, He’s gonna kill us,” Pit moaned.
“You know what we have to do,” Eleven said solemnly.
“Yeah, yeah. Lady Palutena, think you can track them?”
To Mishima’s continued surprise, an ethereal voice answered him. “Sorry Pit, I’m a bit busy here.”
“Too busy to cameo in this chapter?”
“Sorry, this is about all I’ve got time for. Bye!”
“That’s not who I meant in the first place," Eleven said.
“Well how was I supposed to know?! I’m not a mind reader for cryin’ out loud! Or any reader!”
“Let’s put your weird insistence on reminding us that you’re illiterate aside. Think, Pit. Who do we know who’s really good at chasing things?”
Pit stared blankly.
“He’s got an easy access point right over there,” Eleven added, trying to be helpful.
Mishima could practically hear the crickets chirping as Pit continued to blankly stare at his companion. Eleven finally grabbed Pit by the shoulders and steered him towards a Pac-Man cabinet.
“Ohhhh! Yeah, good idea!” Pit said. He gave a quick knock on the monitor, interrupting the attract mode. “Hey, Pac! Duck Hunt’s loose in Shibuya, think you can help?”
In a shining instant, Pac-Man had arrived in the arcade in the same manner as the dog and duck had.
“Get chasin’!” Pit ordered, pointing out the door. Pac-Man cheerily obliged, chomping on nothing as he went. Pit turned back to the group with a big grin plastered on his face, only to see that he was the only one. “What?!”
“You just turned another gaming icon loose willy nilly!” Eleven said exasperatedly. “Now we’ve got two—sorry, three—people to track down!”
“You worry too much, he’ll bring him back here!” Pit argued. Eleven shook his head.
“We’re going out there looking for them.”
“Aw man.”
“You’re seeing this too, right?” Oda whispered to Mishima as Pit and Eleven argued.
“Oh yeah.”
“Good, I thought I was going crazy.”
“Nope, unless this is some weird shared hallucination, but let’s be real, we’ve both seen weirder.”
Their attention turned back to the video game icons made reality. “Okay I’ve got it. I know who we can get to help us!” Pit was saying excitedly.
“Then get them over here!”
“Okay okay!” Pit put a finger to his temple, evidently sending some sort of mental summons. A few seconds later, a flash of blue light heralded yet another icon of Mishima’s gaming past.
“Oh my god, it’s Rockman!”
“Oh yeah, that is what they call me in Japan, isn’t it?” Mega Man said, shyly smiling.
“Not that Mega Man isn’t capable, but why exactly did you think he was the best solution?” Eleven asked Pit quizzically.
“Uh, because he’s got a dog too! Duh!” Pit said defensively.
“I mean, I can have Rush look around, but I don’t know that he’s had a lot of experience with Duck Hunt,” Mega Man said cautiously.
“It’s worth a try,” Mishima said. “Come on, we’ll help you look. Won’t we, Oda?”
“You bet!”
And so the ragtag group set out into Shibuya in search of a yellow Pac-Person, and a seemingly regular dog and duck. You know, normal Saturday night stuff.
“Let’s hope they didn’t make it across the scramble crossing,” Mishima said to Eleven as they split off from the main group. “We might never find them if he got that far.”
Eleven shook his head. “Let’s not think about that and hope we’re not too late.”
“I gotta tell you, it’s really an honor to meet you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, don’t tell me you didn’t know what a big deal Dragon Quest is?”
“I may have heard rumblings,” Eleven said modestly, his face flushing.
“I faked being sick once to keep playing your game. Even though I’d had the entire weekend, I just couldn’t stop playing!”
“Oh, well, you’re too kind. Sorry, I don’t really know what to say to that.”
“It’s okay, you always seemed pretty down to earth in the game.”
They had arrived at the famous scramble crossing. Mishima’s heart sank. It was looking less and less likely they’d find either of their quarries.
“I see Duck Hunt!” Eleven suddenly shouted, pointing at a point that was thankfully on the same side of the scramble as they were.
“Oh I should have figured,” Mishima laughed. The dog was sitting placidly staring up at the statue of Hachiko. “That makes a lot of sense in a weird way.”
“Paying your respects?” Eleven asked as they approached the dog. The dog gave a gentle bark in response, prompting a scratch behind the ears from Eleven.
“Come on, boy, you know you’re not allowed to run off like that. We need to get back.” The dog obediently fell into step behind Eleven as Mishima led them back in the direction of the arcade.
“So now we wait for Pit, Mega Man, and Oda?” Eleven asked when they arrived to find a fairly empty arcade.
“Yep. I can show you how to play UFO catchers if you want.”
“Let’s get the dog back where he belongs first.”
The dog seemed so sad to go, Mishima almost protested. “Sorry buddy,” he said scratching the dog’s head. “But he’s the boss.” With that, the dog and duck returned to their cabinet, and the dog gave one final wave before defaulting back to his trademark snickering.
Eleven turned out to have better luck than Mishima when it came to UFO catchers. In fact, his first attempt landed him a rather serendipitous prize.
“That makes sense,” Mishima laughed as Eleven curiously examined the Slime keychain he’d managed to snag.
“Are Slimes really so popular people make tchotchkes out of them?” Eleven asked bemusedly.
Mishima nodded. “Sure are. They’re like a mascot of sorts. Everybody who loves Dragon Quest loves them.”
“They are pretty cute, so I guess that figures,” Eleven said, pocketing the small box which held his prize.
“So, is it always this chaotic when you go out?” Mishima asked Eleven.
Eleven laughed in response. “Depends on who I’m with.”
“What are you doing hanging out with Pit, anyway?”
“It’s actually kind of a funny story, we—”
Eleven’s tale was interrupted by a commotion at the door to the arcade.
“Run run run run run! He’s not happy to see us!”
“Pit? What’s going on?”
Pit had thrown himself inside, and was barricading the door as best he could along with Pac-Man, Mega Man, and Oda. Considering the doors were automatic, this was something of a futile endeavor. Upon realizing this, the throng sprinted further in and surrounded Mishima. “Mishima, what the hell did you do to piss this guy off?!” Oda asked.
“I didn’t do anything!” Mishima said indignantly. “Is it that guy asking about someone named Mishima?! That could be anyone! Who is this weirdo anyway?!”
He got his answer when the door slid open again and a darkly ominous figure entered the arcade.
“Where is Mishima?” His cold voice demanded. Mishima’s jaw dropped open as he beheld none other than Kazuya Mishima of the Tekken series. “I won’t ask again! Where is this Mishima of Shibuya I’ve been told of?!”
“M-my name is Mishima, b-b-b-but I really don’t think I’m your guy…eep!” Kazuya had stepped forward and was glaring at the cowering Yuuki with a gaze that pierced into his very soul. Especially creepy was the one eye that seemed to hold a diabolical light of its own.
“You can’t be the one who Joker speaks of. I seek a heretofore unknown descendent of the hated Heihachi!”
“That—yeah that’s not my dad,” Yuuki lamely answered. Kazuya was ignoring him now.
“You!” He barked at Eleven and Pit. “Did you follow me here?”
Eleven wasn’t as intimidated as Pit, as evidenced by his sigh and pinching of his sinuses. “No, Kazuya, we did not follow you to Shibuya. We happened to be in the neighborhood as well.”
“Then do you know the Mishima Joker spoke of?”
Pit finally worked up his courage. “Dude. How would he know anyone related to you? If he knows any Mishima, it’s that guy!”
“Thanks a lot, Pit,” Yuuki moaned as Kazuya glared back in his direction.
“Impossible,” Kazuya declared. “There’s no way this milquetoast weakling knows Joker.”
“Hey!” Yuuki found himself protesting, surprising even himself. “It just so happens that I do know Joker!”
Kazuya laughed deeply…and evilly. “You are a poor liar. But you are also clearly not the man I seek. Consider yourself lucky.”
And with that, he was gone.
There was a long silence.
“We don’t need to go after him too, do we?” Oda sheepishly asked.
Hero shook his head adamantly. “I can’t say I care for Kazuya. He’s on his own. If he causes enough trouble, that’ll get him in trouble with Master Hand and—” Pit coughed loudly interrupting Hero. Evidently, he shouldn’t have mentioned that name. “Er, right. He’ll get in trouble and I’m not keen to bail him out of it.”
“I can’t believe he thought he was related to you,” Oda said looking the rattled Yuuki over.
“Hey, it’s not my fault Mishima is a common name!” Yuuki said defensively.
“Gotta hand it to you, a lot of people would have folded like paper in front of him. You may not look like it, but you’ve got guts!” Pit cheerfully said.
“Thanks…I think.”
“We should get back before anything else goes awry,” Hero said.
Pit nodded a bit reluctantly. “You’re right. Well hey, it was great meeting some friends of Joker’s! He’s gonna think the whole Kazuya thing is a riot.”
Mishima couldn’t decide if he was looking forward to that or not. “Well, I never expected to meet so many icons, so…thanks!” The goodbyes concluded, and Hero and Pit stepped out of the arcade and off to…wherever it was they’d come from. Mishima wondered if it was similar to however the Phantom Thieves made it into the world of a person’s heart.
“Hey, you don’t have anywhere to be do you?” Oda asked, snapping Mishima out of his thoughts.
Mishima shook his head. “Are you kidding? I’m down to game all night!”
Oda nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Well, I can’t stay out all night, but if you need a player 2, I’m not going anywhere!”
Mishima laughed as he walked over to the nearest change machine. The night had not gone as expected, to put it mildly, but it wasn’t looking to be a total loss.
Notes:
I really need to break the habit of doing most of a chapter immediately after posting the previous one and then letting it sit unfinished for months at a time while I figure out how to end it.
Anyway, this is kind of the catch-all chapter. Mishima and Oda are probably two of my least favorite confidants, so I wasn't really looking forward to writing them, and honestly had no idea who to even pair them with. Throwing them together was probably inspired by the story Confidant Roulette (which is an acknowledged influence on this series as a whole), and from there I think I just decided to throw in a ton of classic characters who I didn't know how to otherwise use.
It's been a long time from concept to execution, but I think the plan was originally just for Duck Hunt to be featured. Adding Pit, Hero, Mega Man and Pac-Man came later, and Kazuya later still. Ironically I'm pretty sure I had the idea of Kazuya thinking he and Yuuki were possibly related right before the reveal of an actual previously unknown relative for Tekken 8, but I could be getting my timeline confused.
The dog being named Duck and the duck being named Hunt is my pet headcanon.
I probably just didn't know where to look (and I didn't have a whole lot of time to in the first place), but I was a bit let down by the arcades I could find on my own trip to Japan. A lot of UFO catchers and pachinko obviously, which I have no interest in. My travel group did spend an evening in a multistory entertainment venue in Hiroshima, but the only real video games it had were Mario Kart and Taiko no Tatsujin.
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