#fightingdcg

@fightingdcg

“Don’t be late, you guys.” Her boss called out to her, causing Ibitani just to wave it off as usually, rushing to the car that has been loaded with various of bouquets and floral arrangements. This was a big deal: the store was asked by the city’s famous (female!) football player team to get these ready for the winning team. Of course, they were confident to be winning against the others (and so was Ibitani, she was always rooting for those playing for her hometown Hiroshima!), but even if they hadn’t won, she’d try to be a fair person about it and hand the bouquets to the opposing team with just as much of a bright smile than she would do for the Hiroshima team. As her big brother was driving the car (luckily he worked at the same store as her, so she’d always have someone familiar around), he couldn’t just keep the comments to himself. “Man, you were really behind in making the bouquets today, Ryou...” -- “So what?!” -- “Now we are going to be late for the whole thing! We already know that our team won, but duh...” -- “Yes, duh!!! If you hit the gas a little harder, we won’t be late?!” -- “Always so demanding, sheesh...”

For her brother, too, it was an honour to hand over these flowers to the winning ladies. Both of them were really patriotic not only for their home-country, but their hometown. So, it came to no surprise.

Once they arrived, both of them rushed to get all the bouquets carried to the ceremonial plateau of the field; if she had to do it all by herself, Ibitani would’ve surely stumbled over her own feet, or be way too late. But thankfully, there was still some band playing victoriously for no other than Hiroshima’s team! Lining everything up properly, she looked at her brother, instructing him how to be of any help to her ---- the deal was that she as the girl would have the honour to hand out the bouquets to each and every single team member who was actively playing on that day -- the so-called ‘bench warmers’ would get theirs afterwards by both of the siblings. But this was not part of the festivity, so she had to be on time with this whole procedure. “Don’t slack off, don’t be so slow, aaaahhh...” She whined and stomped a foot onto the plateau on which she stood, certainly receiving a few looks for her feisty and temperamental nature, but she really couldn’t be bothered; the last thing she wanted was to get scolded by their boss for her brother’s slow attitude, and it was most certainly not her fault for preparing the bouquets with love and admiration, therefore taking her sweet time on them.

As the music stopped playing, she nervously moved her hair behind her ear and tried not to freak out -- she was not the most social person, so saying ‘Congratulations on winning!’ to 11 women she had never met before was nerve-wrecking. Sure, maybe some of them went to high school with her, but that was all the more reason to freak out. With her brother’s help, she managed to hand over the bouquets to each of the girl, smiling at them brightly despite her flushed face from the excitement of talking to all these strangers -- more so, she was sure that she had seen some cameras for TV... all the more reason to be a nervous wreck!!!

At last, she reached a rather tall, buff and (quite frankly, butch) looking woman; if she hadn’t known better, she’d think that she stood before a rather handsome man. She had round features and feminine curves here and there, but all the while, she looked intimidating. Surely, most of these women did look intimidating (mostly with their on-field outfit, the protection and whatnot they wore, it made them look so much bigger and buffer), but if it wasn’t the height and body built, her magenta hair was surely something that yelled out ‘danger!’ or ‘don’t mess with me!’. Ryuu found herself staring up at the other for a moment, before she smiled just as sweetly as she did before, handing the bouquet to the woman.

@fightingdcg

There was a first time for anything, right? And it surely was a first time for her today. 

Yuuto was not the type of girl to settle for a blind date, really. But sometimes, the danger that would unfold from such a meeting was certainly thrilling. All she knew, was that the man’s name was Miya (or at least that’s what he used to introduce himself to her), and that he’d be hard not to be spotted thanks to his red hair. “Red hair, huh...” She mumbled as she sat in the bar at the far corner, rolling the glass of water in her hands in a manner to have the ice cubes clink against the glass rhythmically. Honestly, usually redheads weren’t entirely her type -- but the rest sounded pretty neat. 

He loved motorcycles, he loved dogs, he always seemed to be rather light-hearted and funny -- he may want to improve his flirting, but boys will be boys...

While she looked at her wristwatch, it was evident that the man had been late. Either that, or he stood her up. Hopefully not the latter! Surely, Shinkai would just move along and meet other people, she wasn’t attached to him (yet), for they hadn’t seen each other before. But it would be quite sad to not have any reason behind the man’s change in plans. The last thing he could’ve done was to tell her that she either wasn’t his type or that he was stuck in traffic, anything, really. She was the most patient and understanding (aside from her bratty attitude), so Yuuto saw no reason why the man was not approaching her through texts.

Therefore, she looked at her phone and checked his status on LINE, wondering if she hadn’t received his messages due to poor signal in the bar, but to no avail. Everything seemed in order.

“You don’t scare me, Miya~... what do you want this time? My notes? Some lunch money? Or maybe a ki~ss? Wouldn’t that be lewd, Miya? Someone might walk by and see~...” Clicking his tongue playfully, he really didn’t care much if anyone saw them being this close or even making out. Well, ok, maybe making out would embarrass him a little bit, but a simple kiss wouldn’t be too extreme. 

Send ™ and my muse will do a poor imitation of yours.

“Eh? Eh-Eh? Ibi~, what kind of homework did we have again? You’re such a genius, Ibi~! Eh, let me copy your notes, please, Ibi~! I’ll buy you lunch, if you do that for me~, eheheh~!”

@fightingdcg

As much as she hated the foreigners who bought her off of her family, she had to be thankful towards them from saving her -- starvation was not uncommon throughout Japan ever since the Outsiders invaded. Chinese, Europeans... she had no choice but to learn their language in order to fit in properly; they all grossed her out so much. Usually, she told her parents not to talk so poorly about foreigners -- they were just people, too. But she changed her mind quickly after being treated as a slave by men who didn’t even look like white faced men -- same Asians, just a different country -- she wouldn’t be surprised to be a slave to white men who deemed themselves above her race, but Chinese? It was disgusting. 

Day in, day out: she cooked them meals, cleaned their homes, had to let them grope her even though she was disagreeing to it internally -- she really did not want to have a knife to her throat another time, once was enough. Sometimes -- in her wildest and most insane fantasies -- she thought: ‘Maybe I would be better off living with the street rats, maybe they’d treat me better. I’m already being raped, I’m already a slave ---- at least they’d speak the same language as I do.’ And perhaps -- in an ironic constellation of stars -- kami-sama was listening to her and giving her what she begged for out of dry sarcasm.

“Hhh...?” Waking up in the middle of the night from turmoil, screaming men gurgling on their own blood as they fought for their lives, she saw a shadow figure approaching her room through the washi-paper doors that separated her room from those of the men, her heard beating faster and faster, hoping that this man would not come into her room to kill her too. She pressed a hand against her mouth, trying to be as quiet as possible, though soft whimpers were inevitable as she was scared for her dear life. Why would robbers be doing in this house? These Chinese weren’t as rich as some of the English or Dutch... it made no sense...