cartoon trash

“Ragno Garanthar.” Sugoi punctuates her voice by slamming her staff on the ground, the harsh click echoing in the hallway. She looms over him, glaring. “I am still your Goyen. You will address me with respect.”

“Yes, Goyen Sugoi.” Ragno hangs his head, shame overwhelming his fury. His dragon recoils, curling deep inside his chest. “Sorry.”

Sugoi lets the silence stretch on for a few moments before easing back. “I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t important,” she says, her voice softer. “I’ve tried my best, but I’ve… failed to get through to him.”

Hesitantly, Ragno peeks up. He’s surprised that she’s confiding this in him. He can never recall seeing his coach so… vulnerable.

“He doesn’t have much time,” Sugoi continues quietly. “You’re his best chance at learning to understand and control the power inside of him. You’ve done it yourself. I can mimic other’s tamas, but it’s not the same thing as living with it.” She puts her hand on his shoulder. “You must help him. You’re the only one who can.”

Ragno’s throat tightens. “I’ll try, Goyen Sugoi,” he mutters, lowering his gaze.

“Good.” Sugoi’s hand falls away, and she turns to leave. “You’ll find him in the Tama Gymnasium. Don’t delay.”

Ragno waits until her footsteps fade before he lets out a sharp exhale, smoke curling from his mouth. Clenching his fists, he wrestles his dragon back under control, forcing a deep breath in through his nose. His dragon finally settles, but it’s still grumbling- ever a prideful creature.

He is not looking forward to this.

~

Ragno heads straight to the gym, not wanting to get caught out for disobeying Sugoi’s request.

The gym seems empty at first glance, but the faint scent of smoke catches Ragno’s attention, his dragon keening eagerly. As he moves to follow it, his ears prick at the sound of crackling flames, and he spots blue light flickering from inside the open doorway of an equipment closet. He can sense Key just beyond it.

Might as well get this over with. Ragno sighs and steps forward, coming to a stop at the threshold.

Key, huddled on an old gym mat, glances over his shoulder. His appearance catches Ragno off-guard.

His eyes are lined with dark circles. Various scrapes and bruises pepper his skin, his clothes adorned with soot and scorch marks. But even more dramatic is the complete sense of defeat radiating off him in waves. His head is bowed, his shoulders are slouched, and that irritatingly persistent spark of light in his eyes is gone.

Ragno would’ve thought he’d be pleased to see his rival like this. But it’s unexpectedly depressing. In Key’s brief time at Kal Asterock, he’s gained a reputation for always being so upbeat and full of energy, with a near boundless sense of optimism. Ragno’s seen it first hand, how Key’s determination can allow him to withstand intense punishment. But it seems like even he has his limits.

“Heyyy, Rags.” Key smiles weakly. Even his voice is a hollow shell of what it used to be. “Come to gloat before I embark on my farewell tour?”

“I…” Ragno glances around the room, raising his eyebrows. That’s a lot of fire. “You did this?”

Key sighs. “Not on purpose. You should probably leave before- woah, stop! What are you doing?!” He jumps to his feet, throwing out an arm to stop Ragno as he steps into the room, eyes panicked. “Wait, it’s not safe, you need to-”

Ragno sticks his hand inside the nearest plume of fire. It washes harmlessly over his skin, and he can feel his dragon purr with contentment. He holds Key’s gaze impassively. “You were saying?”

“Oh.” Key’s shoulders slump. He drops back onto the mat, exhaling heavily. “Right. You’re like, completely fireproof. Right.” 

His concern would almost be touching, if it weren’t so misguided. Ragno folds his arms. “Anyway, I’m not here to gloat. I’m…” Oh, he really doesn’t want to say it- “I’m here to help you.”

Key looks up at that. “Really?” he asks, frowning. “Um, why would you wanna help me? Last time I checked, you literally threw me off a cliff, dude.”

Ragno sets his jaw. His dragon bristles defensively. “It was to teach you a lesson,” he insists. “Being a dragon is not for the weak.”

What happened that day isn’t exactly something he’s proud of, but he won’t apologize for it. His dragon had fixated on Key after they bumped into each other in the Feasting Hall, and having to take him on a tour around school hadn’t helped. By the end of it, his dragon was practically screaming for Key’s blood, wanting revenge for what happened at the All Stars game. The stunt on the Eyrie was Ragno’s way of mitigating that.

Besides, dragons teach their young to fly by pushing them out of the nest. Seemed fitting at the time.

Key purses his lips. “You’re… not just talking about the team, are you?” he ventures, wrapping his arms around himself.

“I’m not,” Ragno says gruffly. “Having a dragon tama requires discipline, strength, confidence. There can’t be any room for self doubt. You have to be in command at all times.”

Key gives a small, humorless laugh. “You sound like Sugoi.”

Surprise flickers through Ragno. He lets his arms fall to his sides, hesitating, before he stiffly lowers himself to the floor, sitting cross-legged across from Key. The curious look Key gives him is a little disarming, so Ragno looks away. His jaw works soundlessly for a moment as he struggles to find the words. He’s never been good at this sort of thing.

“The All Stars game,” he starts. “Was that… really your first time using your tama?”

Key inhales sharply through his teeth, rubbing the back of his neck. “Um… would it be totally obvious I’m lying if I said nooo…?”

Ragno knits his brows together. “I don’t understand. How did you go so long without connecting to your dragon?”

“I- I’m not sure, I just… never did?” Key’s shoulders hitch up by his ears. “Look, my dad… he doesn’t like to talk about my mom. He never told me she was a Dragon Striker. So I never knew I had a dragon tama.”

“Well, no wonder you’re a failure,” Ragno says bluntly. “You’re supposed to connect to your tama when you’re young. It’s even more important for us.”

Key gives him a wary look. They’ve never talked about it, about how they have the same kind of tama. But it’s something they’re both keenly aware of. Once Key’s dragon awakened at the All Stars game, Ragno hasn’t been able to ignore it. He can sense Key’s dragon whenever they’re in close proximity, the way Key must be able to sense Ragno’s.

“Our tamas are different,” Ragno continues. “Alive. They live and breathe and grow inside us, and they’ll grow out of control without a steady hand to guide them.”

Key’s eyes widen. “It’s like donkeybugs.”

“... What.”

“No, no, no, really!” Key holds out a hand, his eyes bright. “My dad taught me that we always have to be there when the donkeybugs hatch, because they have to get used to being around people when they’re little. The way we look, smell, and sound- it’s not exactly like imprinting, they still know who their mamas are, but they gotta acclimate to our presence or else they won’t tolerate human contact when they’re older.”

Ragno blinks. “And why is this peasant nonsense relevant, farm boy?”

Key leans forward. “‘Cause last year, one of the heifers laid early, hid her egg out in the pasture before we’d brought the swarm in for laying. It’d already been hatched for a couple days by the time we found it, and we couldn’t get near the thing without it trying to kill us.”

“So what did you do?” Ragno asks, finding himself genuinely invested in the answer despite his best efforts.

“A donkeybug like that is fine to manage when it’s just a hatchling. But a fully grown, fifteen-hundred-pound feral beast with razor sharp horns and mandibles? Yeah, not happening.” Key’s expression sobers, the light inside his eyes dying. “My dad said… it wasn’t safe to keep her around, so…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Key tucks his knees to his chest, glancing away. “Guess that doesn’t bode well for me, huh?”

Ragno’s silent for a moment. He was barely old enough to remember the first time he connected with his tama. Some toddler tantrum, or something. And from that moment on, his dragon was a constant presence- not always a physical thing, but persistently lurking at the corners of his consciousness.

It was small, at the beginning. It worked itself up and burned itself out quickly, with little collateral damage. It was easy to bring to heel, and by the time his dragon grew powerful enough to pose a threat, Ragno had it well under control and had grown into a strength of his own. A strength that his dragon respected and listened to.

Key missed that opportunity. There’s no changing or undoing that. And now he’s saddled with a dragon that’s grown wildly out of hand.

By all accounts, he’s a lost cause. Ragno’s own experience was so different- clearly the method he used with his own dragon will be no help to Key. So no one- not even Sugoi- would be able to fault Ragno for not being able to help. He did what he could. Now he can wash his hands of this whole situation and finally be free of this annoying first year, and get back to being Kal Asterock’s one and only Dragon Striker.

Except…

“It used to be gold,” Ragno says.

Key looks over, wiping his eyes. “What?”

Ragno sighs heavily. Too late to back out now. “Your dragon tama. At the All Stars game, it was gold. And again on the Eyrie, and at the Banner trials.” He nods at the flames still smoldering around them. “Now it’s blue.”

Key tilts his head. “Uh, yeah? What’s your point?”

“What changed?” 

“I- I dunno! My mom’s dragon was blue, I thought-”

“Tch.” Ragno shakes his head. “You’re clueless. C’mere.” He grabs Key’s hands and tugs him forward.

“Hey!” Key yelps, trying in vain to pull back. “Wh- what are you doing?”

“Quiet,” Ragno hisses. Key’s only inches away, his face flushed and eyes wide, and Ragno inexplicably feels his own face heat up. He scowls and closes his eyes. “I’m just going to connect with your tama.”

“O- oh.” Key’s voice is shaky. “Um, maybe a- a little warning, next time-”

“Shh.” Ragno takes a deep breath and reaches inward for his dragon. It responds to him instantly, unfurling from his chest with a low rumble. Electricity races across his skin as his magic flows, and when he opens his eyes, black and purple flames are flickering around their intertwined hands.

“Now your turn,” Ragno says. “Try to call your dragon.”

Fear shines in Key’s eyes. “But you-”

“You won’t hurt me.” Ragno means for it to be condescending, but somehow, entirely against his will, it comes out sounding almost… reassuring.

Key swallows. He still looks uncertain, but he gives a slight nod and closes his eyes. He grits his teeth and furrows his brows as he concentrates, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. A soft growl starts up in the back of his throat. For a few terse moments, nothing seems to be happening. But then-

A streak of blue.

Ragno’s dragon dives towards it with a screech. Sinking its claws in, a channel opens up between them, and Ragno’s magic courses into Key’s. He tightens his grip on Key’s hands as the other boy instinctively shies away, holding them both steady. There’s a brilliant flash of light, and then-

Roaring.

Ragno’s skull aches with it, his teeth rattling in their sockets. The sheer intensity of Key’s magic is overwhelming- it’s raw and powerful and angry like nothing Ragno’s ever felt before. In his mind’s eye, he can see Key’s dragon in all its terrible glory. It burns with bright blue light that’s painful to look at, its multiple eyes narrowed with malice, fire billowing from its open maw. With a forceful beat of its four wings, the dragon launches into the dead sky, shaking the ground with the might of its fury, and before Ragno can blink, the connection between them is shattered.

It’s almost a physical reaction, Key’s magic rejecting Ragno. Like he’s had the wind knocked out of him. He only just manages not to fall backward, still gripping Key’s hands as the shockwaves finally settle, his dragon writhing and yowling all the while. When everything is quiet again, Ragno feels like he’s just played two back-to-back overtime Gorotama games, his breath shallow in his ears. 

Key appears similarly worn out, trembling and panting. He looks up at Ragno with that fear in his eyes, that devastation, and he’s still holding Ragno’s hands like his life depends on it. 

It’s a crushingly vulnerable expression, like he’s looking to Ragno for all the answers. Ragno, of all people- and he can’t stand it. He wrenches his hands away from Key like they’ve been burned- as if that were even possible- because this isn’t at all what he was expecting.

“That is not your mother’s dragon,” Ragno grits out.

Key’s breath catches. “What?”

Ragno takes a second to compose himself, soothing his dragon until it coils up dormant inside his chest again. “It might look like it, it might act like it, but it’s not. Not really. You inherited a dragon tama, sure, but not the exact same dragon. Just think about it- how would that even be possible? She still had her tama after you were born, before she died, right? It’s not like it just left her and transferred to you. No, that thing-” He jabs a finger into Key’s chest. “That’s all you, farm boy. And until you figure out what that means- who you are- you’ll never be able to control it.”

“Oh.” Key blinks. “Um- wow. That’s- that’s a lot to take in-”

“Well, you’d better figure it out fast,” Ragno warns, “or else I won’t get the chance to wipe the floor with you and your pathetic Knights on the Gorotama Pitch.”

Key stares at him for a second before breaking into a wide grin. “Aw, Rags,” he coos, leaning forward, “are you saying you’d miss me?”

“Of course not,” Ragno huffs, shoving him away- Key flops backwards onto the mat with a soft whuff. Smirking, Ragno rises to his feet and dusts himself off. “I’m just saying it’d be a shame if you left before getting to experience how a real Dragon Striker plays, first hand.”

Key bounces to his feet, undiscouraged. “Oh, so you want a proper rematch, then?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows. 

God, he’s infuriating. “Whatever.” Ragno rolls his eyes and turns to go. “You’ve got more pressing issues right now.”

“I do,” Key says, and there’s determination in his voice again. “But I think I know just the people to help me out with that, thanks to you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Ragno levels a glare over his shoulder. “Seriously. Don’t.”

Key offers a cheery wave. “Whatever you say, pal!”

Ragno doesn’t even dignify that with a response, merely scoffing as he takes his leave. Privately, he’s relieved he played it off well, because the truth is, he’s still reeling from the force of Key’s magic. His mind is racing, flooded with conflicting emotions.

Because it’s not like he wants Key to succeed. He doesn’t. If that little loud-mouthed wannabe actually became a competent Dragon Striker- well, Ragno doesn’t think he’ll ever live it down. He’s smart enough to recognize the incredible potential that someone like Key has, and he realizes the threat it would pose to his own standings.

But at the same time… that dragon isn’t something he wants running wild.

So he allows a part of himself- a very small part- to hope that Key figures out how to control his tama. For his own sake, and the sake of the school. Because for all the times that Ragno’s lost his temper and let his own dragon break loose, it hasn’t done a fraction of the damage that he knows, deep in his bones, Key would be capable of.

Ragno’s dragon grumbles at that, but though they’re both prideful creatures, neither of them can deny the truth forever.