mechanical heart

because all he needed was you.

【 真相 】⋙ No personal offense was taken. Kirigiri preferred some distance from people majorly of the time, and she too understood that being drenched in sweat from practicing was rather distasteful to many. Lavender eyes watched a few of the cherry blossom petals fall from the trees. It made the dojo far more natural looking. There were also benefits from having large plants in a room and it was brilliant on whoever designed the place in the first place. Looking back at Peko, Kirigiri nodded in response, agreeing about everything she had said.    ❝   Perfection does not exist, but is of a subjective definition.          I am sure you have much to work on          even if you are definitely very skilled.          I also do agree on the cherry blossom trees.          Some are still blooming while others have already.          It brings a nice, natural feeling to this room, does it not?    ❞ ⋘

“Yes, I would say that is an accurate observation. If it weren’t for the lack of a sun and cool breeze, one might wager that it was a natural group of trees.” A momentary pause. “Ah, I don’t think I have introduced myself. My name is Peko Pekoyama, Ultimate Kendoka.”

Peko was hard to read; her stoic expression and flat tone probably put many off, and even though Shiori had dealt with people like her before she still felt as though she had to be a bit cautious around her. But…it didn’t bother her much at all. If she could have another friend who didn’t mind her talent…it would all be more than worthwhile.

The days came and went. She wasted no time in hurrying to the range after Friday’s last bell rang, with a quick pit stop to retrieve her own handgun. Although she didn’t immediately catch sight of the sharpshooter at the range, she didn’t idle around. Donning her protective gear, she moved to set up one of the bays, already familiar with these movements. Gun ranges were nothing new to her - many times she had visited them. All she needed now was for her instructor to show.

{{ ♞ }} — “C’mon, Peko-chan~ Just this once! I know I don’t need to get you anything, but I want to! I even got the money from somewhere else since you said you wouldn’t take my work money! Just one little thing~?”

“No,” Peko said in a decisive tone. “My apologies, but I do not want you to buy me anything.”

drawn by nippunippu

doodled super dangan babes

*execution music playing in the distance*

      ‘ …i understand. that isn’t a problem. ’

“Is there something in particular that you wanted, or were you simply confirming your concerns about my sword?”

By 蛋黄番茄酱

please read about before following | art credit

{{ ♞ }} —”Why don’t we stop by one of the new shops after we find your shoes, Peko-chan? When I walked by it last time they had some cute new dolls in stock. I could get you one, if you’d like.”

Pursing her lips, the kendoka failed to respond for a moment as she thought about it. “You do not need to do that,” she finally said. “As kind as it is to offer, I do not need you to buy me a doll. But... I wouldn’t mind looking into it.”

No hint of appreciation anywhere in the stranger’s words, just an imposing figure casting a shadow over Syo’s until two dark bodies overlap. She shows no regard for the sacred ground upon which she stands; the bodies of her fallen companions, those who live and die by chocolate biscuits and boys’ love litter the cracks between them. Now the whole street is rotten. ”Oh? It’s all yours? So greedy! You want to be the last fujoshi standing?! I bet my collection—” the darkened slip cover slides off one, Syo picks through pages of timorous boys— “was so much bigger than yours!” Syo shifts her weight from one foot to the next, smirking, leaning forward into the comic. She lets the scars that line her thigh speak for themselves.

And that was fine with her. More of a challenge.

drew pekopeko-chan c: