#oops anyway

Vol. I - Chapter 1

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Aira bolted out of the castle gates, giggling with delight. He gripped his new wand firmly, letting it swing wildly by his side, eyes glimmering in the clear, sunny afternoon. He could barely restrain himself from squeezing the magical tool so tightly that it would have broken his training wand-- except, unlike the black oak branch he'd broken off of his childhood climbing tree, this one could actually perform real magic. He was upset that he couldn't pick the design, nor could he pick the unit he was assigned to, but it looked beautiful and promising nonetheless.

Somehow, he managed to make it all the way to the Heart of the Realm on foot, a decision he would soon regret as his breath was only barely grazing by his lungs. He hunched over for only a moment, allowing his pulse to return to a somewhat-normal state before he frantically searched the crowd of people before him. There, he could see waves of people, many of whom he recognized, but a startling amount of which were completely new to him. Unlike previous years, though, everyone was mixing together and mingling between clans. He could see stoic Warriors aligning themselves with even the daintiest of the Woodsy members, and Trixters nearly biting the ears off of haughty Majestic self-defined "elites". What's more, everyone who seemed to be interacting with one another seemed to have similar weapons they bore: a few arcane-looking canes, twisted wood wands not too dissimilar to an outstretched bony hand, even a few that resembled blunt swords. Aira looked down at his own wand-- it was quite basic compared to all of these, but the bold colours and markings of card suits set it apart from the others, and would be easy to spot for his fellow unitmates. So, he waved it in the air, hoping to use it as a beacon of sorts.

Moments later, the corner of his eye caught a streak of red barreling towards him. Aira yelped, and he stumbled backwards in an attempt to not be tackled to the ground completely, only to fall right onto his back, looking up to find the boy who was racing towards him had stopped mere inches before where Aira used to stand. The boy's piercing blue eyes stared back at him, seemingly startled himself, as he firmly extended his hand.

"Are you alright? Here, let me help you up! My name is Amagi Hiiro, you must be our fourth member! Please, tell me your name!" Hiiro didn't wait for any answer. He simply grabbed Aira's hand, pulling him up firmly, nearly dislocating his arm.

"Ow--! Hey, watch your strength!" Aira grabbed his own shoulder, massaging it to try and alleviate the stinging sensation. In the process of reacting to it, though, he bit down on his tongue, crying out in pain once again while holding his hands over his mouth.

Great first day as an official Magi so far.

"Fufu, are you alright?" Aira heard a deeper, gentler voice coming up behind Hiiro. He whipped his head back around to face the new person, being met with someone he vaguely recognized from within the Majestic clan's borders-- a senior Magi, most widely known for being a pure pacifist. Kazehaya Tatsumi, Aira recalled his name being.

"Mmph, y-yeah! Just-- ow-- a little bruised, that's all!" Aira smiled weakly, still holding his shoulder.

Tatsumi chuckled yet again, slowly approaching Aira on the side of his injury. He reached towards his hip, rummaging around inside of a small woven bag attached to his belt before pulling out a small Rune of Healing, seeming to be well put to use. "Here, would you like some help with that?" Aira nodded, leading Tatsumi to grip the rune firmly, allowing the tip of his wand to glow with a faint baby blue. Soon, Aira saw a glittery flash move slowly towards and around his shoulder, then circling his head, before fading away. In what felt like an instant, Aira could feel himself return back to normal.

"Oh, wow, thank you so much, Kazehaya-senpai!" He swiveled his joint in a few circles, then beamed.

"Fufu, it's my pleasure. And you may use 'Tatsumi' to refer to me, if we're going to be in a unit together." Tatsumi sheathed his wand in a small clip on the opposite end of his belt, and took a step back.

"Oh, Tatsumi-senpai! You said Mayoi-senpai is going to join us soon?" Hiiro chimed in once again, seemingly enamoured by Tatsumi's small feat of healing magic.

Tatsumi frowned. "Given this crowd, I don't think we'll be seeing much of him. But I assure you, he'll be watching us from somewhere closeby.~"

Mayoi-senpai...? That was yet another name unfamiliar to him. It struck him like that belonging to a lost soul, and coupled with the imagery of a mysterious, unseen figure watching him from the shadows, it was enough to make Aira's spine shiver. He began to worry about some kind of rumour he heard, that every single clan was to be included in this assigning of units. Even some of the... less favourable ones. Aira distinctly remembered hearing whispers of Magi hailing from the Shadow Clan, an organization filled with ne'er-do-wells and users of dark magic. From a young age, he was always told to avoid anyone who belonged to it. But he'd never actually encountered anyone who claimed to be a member... that he knew of, at least.

"Are you alright, Aira?" Hiiro tapped Aira's shoulder, snapping him out of his daze.

"Uwaah-! Don't freak me out like that!" Aira jumped back, completely not expecting the boy to come up behind him and speak at a normal volume directly next to his ear, nearly making it ring. "A-And yeah, I'm fine!"

He was about to continue, but was interrupted by the loud jingling of bells emanating from the very center of town square. The three turned to face the source of the racket, locking eyes with a person hanging upside-down from the branches of the Ancient Tree. His attire seemed rather mundane and tidy on first glance, but quickly revealed its true nature with mismatched colours and bizarre pieces of jewelry. He seemed completely disinterested in how many leaves were falling as a result of his tomfoolery, instead shaking a strand of sleigh bells wildly to gain everyone's attention. Slowly, the chaotic conversation of the crowd below him simmered to a whisper, then stopped completely. Some glared at him with irritation, continuing their conversation after only a few seconds. But most listened intently, as they, Aira included, knew exactly who this was.

"Thank you, thank you for your attention~!" Hibiki Wataru exclaimed. "Now! Ladies, gentlemen, and all else who care to listen, allow me, your very own Hibiki Wataru, to be the first to congratulate and thank you all for your participation! ☆"

"Not like we had a choice," a faceless heckler shouted.

Wataru didn't miss a beat. "Your choice to listen is worthy of thanks enough! Now, I'm sure you've already all been well-informed of our greater goals in this program, but here, I wish to present you with an Amazing opportunity, for both your cooperation, and less importantly, access to yet-untapped power!"

A soft murmur fell over the crowd.

"Very exciting, hm~? Well then, if you are interested, I implore you to have your hand at this!"

Wataru hurled himself through the air, flipping himself upright, and landed on the very branch he was once hanging onto. Midair, though, he released a flurry of pieces of parchment, allowing them to flutter to the ground as swarms of hands reached out for them, eager to gain this mysterious power the jester spoke of. But once they retrieved the paper, though, many threw it back down to the ground, and some even ripped it to shreds. The angry mob turned back up to the tree, only to find Wataru was already gone without a trace.

"Classic stunt of a Trixter," one Warrior groaned. "Givin' us false hope, 'n running off before consequences can hit 'em."

Bewildered at this sudden change of heart, Aira slipped into the crowd, kneeling over and retrieving one of the slips of paper from beneath the people's feet. He rushed back to his unit, having not read it yet, hoping that this "untapped power" was just misunderstood to be worthless.

To his dismay, it seems the crowd was right.

"This looks like Dragonscratch," Aira noted, "but the handwriting is so awful I can barely recognize what each symbol is. I don't even think these ones are real." He gestured to a few symbols of the cryptic language that especially stood out. "Not to mention that us people can't really understand this kinda stuff."

"Dragonscratch...?" Tatsumi tilted his head.

"Umu! I might be able to read parts of it!" Hiiro came up very close next to Aira, looking over his shoulder. But as quickly as his enthusiasm came over him, a frown replaced it.

"Completely unreadable, yeah?"

"No..." His tone went quiet and pensive. "This isn't any kind of modern Dragonscratch, I don't believe. But I do recognize these symbols you pointed out. It would take some time to decipher."

Satisfied with Hiiro's small bit of confidence, Aira handed the sheet to him. "Then you should carry it! I think it'll come in handy!" He chuckled nervously. "...Eventually!"

Tatsumi watched as parts of the crowd began to dissipate. "I think we should consider finding Mayoi-san before we begin our journey. I want to ensure we can all be here to experience it. ♪"

"Oh, yeah! I'd love to get started! I think I wanna become a Master Magi, honestly. I know it's super hard, but--"

Aira couldn't even finish before Hiiro grabbed his wrist and ran excitedly ahead of him. "Let's go!"

"W- Hey--!!!"

~

It would be so easy to leave them behind.

His laboured breathing only grew heavier with each passing second. He curled himself into a ball, only peeking outside through the window every few seconds to set himself back into reality. But still, his thoughts crept in.

You're already a danger enough as it is. What if you ended up hurting them? Or worse?

He gripped his new wand tightly, choking on his own building saliva. He suppressed the urge to gag.

Remember what they told you. You're a danger. You shouldn't be around such innocent souls. You'll corrupt them beyond recognition.

He remembered the gentle voice of the man he'd met an hour earlier.

Just quit. It's not worth it. You won't make a difference to the "peace" anyway.

He held his head in his hands, letting his wand limply fall from his grasp and roll across the rotting floor beneath him. The foul stench of waterlogged wood filled his lungs as he attempted with little success to calm himself. Perhaps they would give him a merciful death. Perhaps his end would be peaceful. Perhaps they could let him die with dignity, with the world never knowing to whom he swore allegiance. Or perhaps they'd drag him around for a little while until he proved to have fully served his purpose. He smiled at that thought-- being useful. It was a far-off dream, one that seemed only befitting of a fantastic legend, a myth he would never be.

But just as he was settling into his nightmare of a daydream, he heard the footsteps of whom would soon become his new family.

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FIRST YEAR DOING ART FIGHT!!

guess the kinks :: open

and the muse can only respond with "yes", "no", or "maybe"

Anonymous sent: HMMMMMM, Diluc's a tricky one to figure out for kinks. How abooout taking someone over a desk? Or him giving/receiving hickies?

"Yes." Why yes, Diluc is certainly intrigued by the idea of interrupting work with a little bit of release. There are plenty of people who give away too much of themselves and their time. Turning that around (or turning over as it were) is an exciting prospect.