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robotslovedeath · 5 years

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Why You? | Draco M. x Reader (4)

A/N: finally i finished chapter 4 jsbdbd im sorry it took so long!!! i was busy and all that stuff :')))

A/T = Animal Type

A/N = Animal Name

Word count: 1,031 words

Warnings: None

Summary: Y/N’s been awfully interested in Harry Potter ever since she met him the first day she arrived at Hogwarts. Not that everyone else did, but crushes. What else could she say? It isn’t until Draco, coincidentally crushing on Y/N, spots Potter and her laughing wholeheartedly, like nothing else in the world matters. Frustration hits him unexpectedly, and he tries everything to get him to lure you to him, eventually making you his.

Dinner. Your favorite time of the day. Not that it was because of the food but, because you could spend your time talking with your friends without worrying about upcoming classes. Well, you hoped. After the crazy incident with Draco, it wasn't surprising that you didn't want to tell them about it. In fact, no one should know about it.

“I must be dreaming, right? Y/L didn't really do that, did she?”

A Slytherin yelled, looking rather scared. Often they would gossip quietly, but this time? The Slytherins went too far.

“What's that?”

You clear your throat.

“It would be very much appreciated if you didn't talk about me behind my back, Higgs.”

Of course he would spread the ‘rumor’ around now, wouldn't he? It wasn't really a rumor if you thought about it.

Many times you tried to brush off the disgusted looks off of people’s stares, however that didn't usually quite work. Especially how Ron, Hermione and Harry looked at you. They had heard what the people had said.

“Huh, isn’t that Malfoy’s little girlfriend over there?”

His face was hidden with an odd expression. Much to be resembling a mocking one. Maybe trying to look shocked, perhaps? You didn't know.

You didn't mind the bad things they had said about you. In fact, you thought that was the greatest thing that could happen to you. For, you see, you indeed had developed a nasty crush on Draco Malfoy. Great, wasn't it?

Soon after dinner, your mind was only focused on: seeing Draco, or studies.

“Y/N, Y/N!”

Hermione called you,

“I’m sorry about Ronald. He doesn't mean that.” Was she serious? Didn't she believe all the talking? “Oh? That's perfectly fine, ‘Mione. But.. can I tell you.. the truth?”

Merlin, you were a fool. “I did kiss him. Actually, he kissed me but, I like him. A lot. He just probably doesn't know that.” She was in shock, although had known for a while. “I kinda figured it out for quite some time, but to talk about this face-to-face is still deemed to be very difficult to take in. I might not just adjust to this.. new attachment yet.”

You laughed, understanding that taking a liking to him would be meeting up with a lot of hate from practically everyone at school. Not to mention his family. They only allow purebloods, don't they? That was fine, you could handle them. That is, until you had figured out a way to do so.

You silently left Hermione and exited the Great Hall. Having not eaten anything, you were beyond ready to have any energy for the remaining night. Not to mention you had survived the day on only a cup of pumpkin juice and one lonely apple. Perhaps not the brightest idea, coming from a witch like yourself. Along the corridors, past the library, there you found yourself back to the classroom. It was under no circumstances that a student should be allowed in one when a class isn't taking place; that is the rule. How come you weren't caught yet?

Strangely enough, your wishes had came true. The abandoned classroom in which you had so casually took a liking to, is now proceeding to become used again. With the bonus of a simple, but strong spell along with it. The door’s locked. Your mind goes blank for a second. However, everything’s alright, and you decide to head back to your dormitory. Even if you could've tried opening it, letting your actions take over you didn't sound like a good idea. Just let yourself slide this time. It's not that big of a deal, is it?

Opposite the classroom was a confused Draco. When did he get here?

“..What do you want?” A wave of sadness crawled over you, taking its oh-so lovely time. “I can't even walk around these halls without someone talking about me. I know it's stupid, but I think it's getting to me, Draco..”

Irritation hit your knees, making you fall to the ground. Your trembling and tears following. “I don't like it.. I don't like it..” You repeated over and over again, frustration gaining your senses as your heartbeat increasing in speed.

Like a giant blanket, he embraced you. Warmth building up and engulfing you with all its power. “Y/N, believe me I didn't ask for any of this. Yet alone, I wasn't aware someone had seen us. If I had known, I would have informed you right away, trust me on that.” He kissed the top of your head, feeling right at home under his touch. You had no idea how he did it. “Y-yeah, I guess so.” Was he no longer a friend figure to you now? You couldn't possibly ask him such a strange question.

“You should head back to your dorm. I don't think anyone would like it if they saw us here.”

In an instant, it was as if he was never there with you. He had left you in such a short matter of time. You didn't even have the time to say goodnight. You consider yourself a disgrace for looking so weak around him. Likewise, Draco was hesitant all that time. He found that your greatest fear was being weak around others, that you couldn't cope with being looked down upon, as revealed by Draco himself. He could sense your disappointment towards yourself, though he didn't say a single word.

It was now 10, the night sky being the clearest you had ever seen it be. You somehow found your head to be poking outside a small window, your dorm being awfully quiet at this time. No one really hung out here right now, so it was a great place to spend some quality time reading. They were usually all in the common room, and you had no problems avoiding them until bed. Your A/T was next to you, examining you very carefully. It had been doing that for quite some time now, and you had no clue as to why.

“A/N, what's up with you?” It just blinked, and you ignored it for now.

This was one hell of a day.

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winterverses · 5 years

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Walking Wounded - Chapter Sixty-Five

After those first few days, it seemed like life was a whirl of activity even though Kirk no longer had the day-to-day running of the ship to account for. Every day he found himself having to leave the apartment in the morning to speak to various higher-ups, to go over preparations for resuming the five year mission and potential courses with Ops, and most often of all, to testify in the damn trials. Anne got up with him, or sometimes even earlier, making breakfast with as little synth as she could get away with. That was the only good part of waking up that early with no Enterprise to run. Well, morning sex was pretty fantastic too, but everything else he had to do was boring as hell, or frustrating. At least the media hadn’t been tipped off again, though once or twice he noticed someone taking a holo of him.

Anne sometimes left the apartment with him, going on mysterious errands of her own. She wasn’t involved in the trials. She’d wanted nothing to do with anyone on trial but Loche, and Justice hadn't felt it necessary to summon her. He knew that she continued to see Claudia, but beyond that, he wasn’t sure. The dark mood Anne had fallen into after the call from her mother had worried him, especially because he’d seen that she was trying to chase it away or at least hide it and neither he nor she had been able to lift it much until she’d seen Claudia again, despite their excesses. The sessions definitely helped her keep it together, and whatever else she was doing seemed to help too. By the time he got home every day, she was already there, ready to hit the building’s gym before they decided what to do with the rest of their night. She did her barre exercises while he did a stepped up version of his normal routine-- to account for all those indulgent meals-- and then they continued with bar fighting and self defense. Other residents of the apartment building sometimes looked alarmed when they saw him attempting to “hit” a tiny little thing like her, but she was fast enough to keep mostly away from him and he always pulled his punches to a light tap when he landed one. Luckily, no one ever seemed to connect them with the periodic news stories cropping up. That would have been pretty crazy to try to explain.

The media was an ongoing problem, even though there were no longer crowds like the one that had greeted him at Justice. The story had taken on a bit of a life of its own by then, much the way it had happened after the Franklin had made its last fiery flight to save Yorktown and he’d made his frantic dive to stop Krall; it had been seized, examined, dissected, the motivations speculated on, the people involved both accused and acquitted by turns. It was a macrocosm of the rumor mill aboard the ship. Because he could do nothing about it, he paid as little attention as he could, and encouraged Anne to ignore it completely. It bothered her far more than it bothered him. She’d avoided it so ferociously before.

Still, it had caught public interest, and every so often when they were out they would be approached by someone who either wanted an interview or had become too personally invested in the stories they’d read. Anne swore up and down after every incident that she was going to change her hair, her face, everything, until she was no longer recognizable and people stopped bothering her. Kirk just agreed and told her to do whatever she liked, knowing she would never get around to it. She thought of her body as a physical record of her experiences, which was somewhat odd to him-- if he thought the same way he’d still be dead-- but he liked her the way she was, so he never tried to push the more practical ideas like changing her hair.

Eventually, though, the rumors started to get out of hand. He and Anne were both being torn apart in public speculation, and continued silence was only taunting the piranhas. He’d asked to consult with Commodore Paris before deciding what to do. As the highest ranking officer on Yorktown base, and someone with decades of experience in administration at her level, she merited a voice in the discussion and would have useful advice. Anne hadn’t wanted to attend the meeting, saying she wasn’t really a member of Starfleet and shouldn’t take up the Commodore’s time, but asked him to pass on assurances that she would abide by whatever Kirk thought was reasonable.

“Whatever I think is reasonable?” he’d asked as they discussed it the night before his meeting.

Anne had yanked the covers up further and buried her face in his chest. “Yes. Now shut up, you wore me out and I’m sleeping.”

He couldn’t help a snicker. “You are not. You’re too crabby that I mentioned it to fall asleep now.” She wasn’t really as irritated as she sounded. It was just that she’d avoided talking about it all day and had thought she was home free once they’d gotten into bed.

With a dramatic sigh, Anne rolled over onto her back. “Fine. Yes. You are correct. But I want nothing to do with this and if you tell me that I must give you some input, all I have to offer is that I don’t care what the public thinks. I’ll do whatever needs to be done to be left alone.”

“And if I think it’s reasonable to do something you don’t--”

“I’ll do it, of course,” Anne said, as if this should have been obvious.

“And, just to clarify, if Commodore Paris thinks something is reasonable and I don’t--”

“You are extremely aggravating. Of course I’ll do what you think is best. What do I care for her opinion either?”

The more irritated she was, the less American she sounded, though her accent didn’t change. It was kind of hilarious. “All right then. As long as you’re okay with doing what I decide even if you disagree.”

“How could I possibly disagree if I have no interest whatsoever?” she sniffed.

“As long as you don’t complain,” he’d said, pulling her close. Of course, they couldn’t just go to sleep after that, and since her irritation was more for the subject matter than it was for him, she’d softened up as soon as the subject changed to more interesting topics, with the result that he was a little tired at his meeting the next morning.

Commodore Paris hadn’t commented on it, though he knew those piercing dark eyes of hers noted everything. She’d waited until he was standing in front of her desk before speaking, her expression neutral. “Captain Kirk. I am glad to see that you wish my advice in this matter.”

“I hope to minimize the media attention as much as possible. You know I don’t enjoy the spotlight.” After the Franklin and Krall there had been a bit of attention from the press, which he’d escaped mostly by virtue of not being where they thought he would be and not giving any but the blandest, shortest comments he could get away with until they realized he wasn’t going to sit still for the holo if he could help it. And, being that he was a somewhat heroic figure in the eyes of Yorktown at large, they’d backed off out of respect and mostly stuck to file holos and recycled sound bites. The way Loche’s women had spread sensationalized bits of misinformation in order to stoke media interest, though, that wasn’t about to happen any time soon.

“I understand your frustration. You are a man of action first, and you do not wish to participate in the endless circumlocutions of those who know nothing of action. But where is your companion?” Commodore Paris looked to the door, and then back to him as if making a point.

He knew he’d told her that Anne wouldn’t be attending. This was her way of gently making him answer for Anne’s actions… something he then realized would be a very pertinent part of any media discussion. He had to give it to her, Commodore Paris was subtle. “She wishes me to speak for her at this particular meeting, and has said she’ll abide by whatever decisions I make about how to move forward.” He sure as hell wasn’t going to say that she rejected the whole idea that Starfleet ranks applied to her in any way.

“Next time we speak of this, you will require her to attend,” the Commodore said, her voice just as neutral, her gaze like a skewer, holding him in place.

She had him trapped. If he said yes, he’d have to compel Anne to come. If he said no, he’d be admitting that he couldn’t or didn’t want to apply the control Anne said he had. He had to choose his words carefully. “I’ll ask that she attend. I have confidence that she will do exactly as she says, and if she says that she will follow my lead, I believe her.”

The Commodore gave him a long, evaluating look, and then seemed to consider that sufficient. “This media attention will not die down completely as long as it is known that you are still on the base and still involved in the trials. The most troublesome elements are the human elements that were not present in your previous exploits: the suggestion of fallibility, and perhaps trickery; the intimation of emotions beyond the straightforward heroics that made up your last skirmishes with the press. It is very easy to laud a hero and then forget about him. He has no depth, no complexity to inflame the mind. You have, unfortunately, gained some complexity in the eyes of the galaxy, as has your companion. Your previous flirtations with the attention of the public subsided with silence, but this one will not.”

“You would recommend we speak to the press, then,” Kirk said. He’d known going in that this was probably how it would end up. Didn’t make it any more fun.

“I do. I would also recommend that you remove as much complexity from the narrative as possible. If presented in a straightforward way, some of the impact can be diminished. Some, not all. I am afraid there have already been too many pieces of information strewn about to entice the press. They will not wish to abandon them for a simpler, less interesting narrative.”

“It seems like the best course of action would be to offer concrete answers to most of the points the press are speculating on.” Kirk frowned. Interviews were not his idea of a good time.

Commodore Paris paused, waiting until she had his full attention before speaking. Her eyes bored into his. “It is your relationship which makes your position seem full of deceit and manipulation. If she is truly a victim, how could you interfere with her recovery? If she was not a victim, you have been taken in. You should never have become involved. It is your greatest vulnerability in this situation, as your opponents are well aware.” Commodore Paris said this as neutrally as the rest; her voice did not hold either sympathy or condemnation.

Kirk had to bite back his response anyway. He was getting really sick of being told how terrible an idea it was to have a personal relationship with Anne. If it was a bad idea, so be it; it was already done. “Seeing her only in terms of victimhood or not is demeaning to her. And I will not apologize for having a relationship with someone I admire and respect.”

Paris took it in stride, nodding her head gravely. “I also understand your position, inconvenient though it is. Nevertheless, the information put forward by the friends of the alleged smuggler and slaver has been overwhelmingly aimed toward the perceived transgression of your relationship, as that is the easiest way to paint you both in a less flattering light.”

“If you have any advice on how to counteract that, I would be glad to hear it,” Kirk said. Speculation had gotten worse, yes, but that bad? He’d have to start paying more attention to the news, distasteful as it was.

“I am doing what I can. Starfleet’s public position on your actions, personal and professional, as well as your companion’s, has been one of our utmost confidence and trust in your judgment and abilities. You may wish to publicly express your thanks for that.” The woman was nearly as unreadable as a Vulcan. Her expression and tone still maintained that pleasant neutrality.

There was a catch there. Public. “You’re saying that Starfleet isn’t happy with what I’ve done.”

Commodore Paris blinked slowly; it was as good as a nod. “You have made yourself vulnerable. How can you be trusted to captain a ship if you are either a predator or a dupe? Nothing has been decided. But there is talk.” For the first time, a sour expression flitted across her face before it regained its pleasant neutrality. “Especially after the motorcycle incident. Nevertheless, the public position holds until something is proven. Your words could do much to soothe the situation.”

It was good advice. Even if it felt as if he had to take a moment to swallow back his defensiveness so he could speak. Thanking Starfleet Command for sticking by him was basically implying that the Federation as a whole had no issues with his behavior, even though they were technically different bodies. Thanking them also re-emphasized the points that they made. And speaking publicly could take the wind out of anyone’s sails if they were trying to sink him. “I’ll do what I can.” Kirk glanced at the time displayed on one of her holographic screens. “I appreciate that you’ve taken the time to meet with me on what is essentially a personal matter, Commodore. I won’t hold you up any longer.” Not after that little bit of news. Hell no.

“I would have been, and still would be, glad to have you as one of my Vice-Admirals, you know,” she said. “It is possible that your discovery and your actions will make an end of the disappearances here. And Yorktown always welcomes the return of her heroes. We remain grateful.”

It was unaccustomed, coming from her. Commodore Paris was not given to such direct remarks. It surprised him out of his defensiveness. “Thank you, Commodore.” He stepped back, giving her a nod before turning to leave the massive open space of her office.

After that, to the Justice building, making more depositions. At least they were boring enough to snuff out the anger he’d felt. Trials were being held in every court, and his time was very carefully spread between them. By this point, he was on autopilot the entire time. Most of his depositions were exactly the same repetitions of the overarching strategy of taking the base, as he hadn’t interacted with most of the accused beyond briefly glancing at them in the holding cells. Still, he had to be there to answer any questions the judges might have. A few of them had gotten very specific with it. Kirk was careful to answer them consistently, as any previous evidence could be entered or questioned in Loche’s trial.

To his surprise, the last trial he was to attend that day brought him in just after Captain Vergne. Though they were performing the same role, he’d only seen her in passing in the halls. The sheer amount of trials going on kept them too busy to talk. When she saw him, she gave him a rakish little smile and pointedly sat herself in one of the auditorium seats on the aisle. He’d given her a minute nod, keeping his answering grin under wraps.

Same old shit. Once his part was over, he paused long enough by Ella’s seat for her to follow him, then left the auditorium. When the door had closed behind them, she laughed. “You’ve been trying to get out of buying me those drinks, haven’t you? Cheapskate.”

“Got plans for tonight?” he asked, pulling out his communicator. When she shook her head, he set the comm code for home. “I’ll see what Anne’s up to. If she’s home.”

“She doesn’t have a communicator?” Ella asked, surprised.

“I don’t think she was ever issued one,” Kirk said, thinking back as he entered the apartment’s comm code. “If she’s got a civilian model, I don’t know about it.”

“One what?” Anne’s voice asked, sounding thin. She’d answered so quickly that she could have been waiting for his call.

“A communicator, don’t you have one?” he asked.

“No. Why would I want one?” she asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.

“You’re so weird,” he said, unable to stop himself from grinning. Ella just shook her head. “Anyway we promised to take Ella out for drinks and she’s with me now. Got any plans you can’t move?”

Instead of happily agreeing, as he’d come to expect from her, she said, “Oh…” Even over the communicator, her voice sounded troubled.

“What’s up?” he asked. That wasn’t like her.

“Can she come by the apartment instead? I don’t want to go out. Someone was following me earlier today.”

Ella looked up at him, frowning her concern, and he asked, “Is this something to worry about?”

“Just another reporter. I lost him before I came home-- transported to another district, went by Ben’s place for a chat, switched aircars and all that. It just spooked me, that’s all. I’ll make us dinner and we can eat outside. The orange tree is blooming.”

After a glance at Ella, who nodded, Kirk said, “Sounds great. Anything you need me to pick up on the way home?”

“No. Just… keep an eye on your surroundings, cher.” The endearment was tossed off carelessly. He wondered if she noticed that she did it anymore.

“I will. I’ll be there soon.” He flipped the communicator shut and clipped it back at his waist.

“Getting bad, huh? I’m not surprised. Someone’s stirring the pot.” Ella didn’t look at him.

Kirk sighed. “We know who. We can’t really stop them. I talked to Commodore Paris about it today and we’re going to have to take some steps.”

“If you’re having to do things like switch aircars, I think some steps were warranted a while ago,” Ella said, her voice sarcastic.

“Nothing like that has happened until now.” Kirk paused a moment. “Unless she didn’t tell me about it. She does go off alone a fair bit.”

At that, Ella stopped walking, and he turned to see her scowling at him, those perfectly arched brows drawn together in irritation. “Jim, you need to start paying attention to what’s going on here. What the hell are you doing that you don’t know these things?” Ella demanded.

His defensiveness immediately leaped back to the surface. “Look, if she chooses not to tell me, it’s none of my business.”

“Normally I’d agree with you, but this isn’t a normal situation. With no communicator, she can’t even call you for help if she needs it,” Ella said, with the air of someone who was very aware they were explaining something very reasonably.

“All right, you’ve got a point. I’ll talk to her about it-- in private.” Kirk wasn’t entirely certain that he should be prying into what Anne chose not to talk about, but at the very least he’d make sure she had a communicator. That was reasonable enough.

“Where are we headed?” Ella asked, perhaps sensing that a change of topic was due.

Kirk raised an eyebrow at her. “You really think I’m gonna tell you after all that talk about security?”

Ella just gave him a long, flat look that he knew was fake, because he could see the tiniest curve at the corners of her mouth. “I outranked you once, Captain, and I could do it again if I wanted. So you’d better keep that lip to yourself.”

At that, Kirk couldn’t help a laugh. Something about Ella always made things easier, in spite of her prickliness. He turned to walk away, and she followed him. “In your dreams, Captain,” he chuckled, suddenly very glad to have her along.

Oof, lost a week again. I don't even have a good excuse. Sorry!

#James T. Kirk/OC #Jim Kirk/OC #Star Trek #Star Trek Fanfiction #dark romance #fanfic #ST:WW #Star Trek: Walking Wounded

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kakiokuru · 7 years

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NOBORIZAKA: NOVEMBER RAIN

Chapter Twelve | Smoke and Mirrors

No one was surprised at the outcome of Sakurai Reika’s fight. Well, save for Majijo’s students. The details of how it was accomplished had been muddled and blurred quite a bit to save the girls’ face when they arrive back at Noborizaka. Nonetheless, it was a victory on paper and a victory well earned. As far as the world was concerned, the second step on the staircase of victory, much like the first, had been taken with ease. However, that in itself was a problem. News of the first Queen being taken down by the princess school's student president and assistant with little to no trouble spread like wildfire. Rumors of cheating or foul play were thrown around in casual conversation as well as who was going to be fighting next and against whom. Whether or not it would be a private of public match was yet to be seen. If Mai had it her way, they would wait another week before jumping into action again but with how quickly and easily they beat the first Queen and stair guards, of course Majijo wouldn’t stay quiet.

“Waka! You'll be next, right? Right?!” Kazumi bounced around the couch in glee, still ecstatic from the praise she was given after winning their fight. Once more all the girls were doing nothing other than lazing around in their clubroom, with the images of Majijo students projected onto the wall, a large red cross plaster over the fallen members.

“Hm? Ah, yeah. Sure, whatever.” Yumi nodded a couple times, her focus lost. Her eyes were searching unintentionally for the one thing not in the room.

“Idiot, we still have to prepare, it's only been a day. We need to recuperate and plan.” Erika interject, pointing her finger into her desk.

Mai exhaled softly with her arms crossed over her chest. “Magic is next. No doubt she will come to us before we go to her. Nishino, be prepared.” Mai craned her neck over when no response was given. “Nishino?” The room did feel a bit more empty, Mai looked to Erika for answers. Erika merely raised her brow in irritation, not having an answer.

“She isn't here.” Yumi sat up on the couch, running her hand through her hair. “She's probably on the roof, as far away from me as she can get.” With a low sigh, Yumi fell back once more with her forearm over her eyes. “Not my problem.”

“Eh, Waka–” Kazumi started.

“The shitty brat wants to play cocky and arrogant, let her.” Yumi finished.

There was an awkward silence, coupled with a heavy, uncomfortable tension looming in the room. Mai looked to Erika once more to urge her to slice the silence but pianist was too wrapped up in her frustrated feelings to even notice. Even Kazumi was burying her feelings in an extra large box of pocky she obtained at the convenience store.

“Well–” Reika opened her mouth to speak but was cut off quickly by the PA system’s melodic ringing throughout the rooms and corridors. Throughout the school, it started with a loud screech of feedback before the sound of sharp, foreboding clapping. All of the girls raised their head up in confusion, looking towards the PA speaker on the far end of their room. An announcement? Now? During free period? Unheard of. One that was so… bold? Something was off.

“Good morning, Noborizaka students.” A higher voice, taunting and arrogant in tone rang through the halls. “Today, your friend from Majisuka Girls Academy has a very exciting announcement! Today, the one and only Majikku Show will be performing for your special school!” The sound of clapping was heard before laughing. “However, it is invite-only and there’s only one premium ticket to the event and such ticket has be won by your very own Nishino Nanase-san!” Once more, laughter sprang from the speaker gradually becoming more and more grating on the nerves, purposefully so. “Nanase-san~! You’re the lucky winner! Congratulations~!”

Mai’s eyes widened perplexed. Here? Now? How did she just slip through the school’s security? The gates should have been closed and walls would have been too high for a regular yankees to make an effort to jump over. More than that, this girl had the nerve to infiltrate non-yankee territory and call out a fight during class hours? She clearly had no respect for Noborizaka or its rules.

The inside of Yumi’s chest churned with uneasiness, like a premonition, a sense that something horribly wrong would and will happen. She couldn’t shake it, couldn’t ignore it. Yumi rose to her feet, ripping her umbrella from the coat rack. “I'm going to look for her. That little shit couldn't have gotten far.”

“I thought you said not to bother?” Reika peeped up, just as she was about check the school’s security updates. Peeking from her tablet, she bit back her envy. “Even with an announcement like that, Nishino should be fine based on her skill evaluation. She’s fast so it’s very likely she could outwit Magic’s trick–”

“Forget what I said! I'm just… I need peace of mind.” She shut the door behind her without looking back. She couldn't place why she was so worried suddenly, but something felt grim. That she had to find Nanase, just in case something went wrong.

After a long pause, Magic’s voice rang through again along with a snarky giggle. “The time and location are a secret to everyone else, it's super private after all. Please look forward too it, Nishino-san.”

There was a loud click as the PA shut off.

Even on the roof, Nanase heard the announcement loud and clear with a playing card nestled between her fingers. The queen of hearts, seemed normal enough though much stiffer material than a standard card. Like glass. Upon further examination, she saw the perimeter of the rectangle sharpened to an edge, threatening to cut. That’s how she had found it stuck within the wood of her desk. History was repeating itself, she couldn’t help but anticipate that some sort of shitty trick or illusion would reveal where and when she was to show up for the fight. Nanase smoothed her fingers over the playing card, the final words echoing in the back of her mind. She held it up to the light and scoffed at it.

“How tacky.”

Nanase held it up under the clouded sun, light permeated through translucently to reveal words within the card, a classroom number and time. Class 1-G, 11:40AM. Even Nanase had enough respect for this school to not particularly enjoy fighting during class hours, especially on school grounds. However, she was called out and Magic made it a point to have the entire school know. More importantly, her team know. This was impossible to ignore, especially in the midst of war.

“Can't be helped…” Heaving a heavy sigh, Nanase pushed off the roof’s flooring. She carefully patted away any dirt that clung to her uniform before slinking out the door. She had exactly thirty minutes to reach the classroom and prove herself. Although, she had no doubt in her mind she would win. She hated cheap tactics, and always saw through them. This girl would be no different. She never believed in magic to begin with.

Nanase was always cocky. Just because the opponent was a Queen of the infamous Majijo, it didn't mean that would change. She took her time in reaching the destination classroom and slid through the door without a shred of hesitance. Across the room was a student peering out the window. She had a curly mess of hair atop her head, leather skirt over her dark uniform, thigh-socks, and shining pink jacket with its sleeves rolled up.

“It's a little early don't you think? Don't you need to wait a while to bury your dead and lick your schools wounds?” No response. Nanase scoffed to herself, walking forward. “Oi? You deaf?” Her hand fell on the girl's shoulder. Nanase went to turn the girl around to face her opponent, but lept back in surprise when she toppled to the floor as nothing more than a hollow mannequin in a wig. “What the fuck?” Nanase furrowed her brow in irritation, one that quickly boiled to anger when she heard the footsteps behind her. Thankfully with her speed, Nanase moved fast enough for the kick launched at her spine to completely miss. The real girl stomped her foot down, inches away from the Nanase with a confident grin.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Magic.”

The Majijo girl quickly swung her fist at Nanase, twisting her body to stop her from escaping but the scout already foresaw the attack. She leaned back, catching Magic’s arm with her left hand and from underneath, Nanase leaned out with a step back from her entrapped arm, giving her the same cocky sneer when she felt Magic’s resistance. “Fast, that's dangerous.”

Nanase wasted no time in slipping her own foot behind Magic’s, kicking out her ankle to crumble her balance but the magician caught herself on the scout. Using Magic’s falling weight, Nanase smirked arrogantly as she grabbed a handful of her opponent’s white collar and jacket, and then twisted her stance. Pivoting her body in the opposite direction, her back towards the Majijo girl, she used whatever strength need to judo-throw the magician over her shoulder to the floor.

“But I'm–” Nanase took a step back, tucking her medium hair behind her ears. However, when she lifted her head and opened her eyes, there was no body writhing in pain at her feet. In fact, there was never even the thud of a body hitting the floor. She quickly whipped around, trying to find her opponent. “Where–”

“Not fast enough it seems.”

Despite sharing similar skills in speed, Magic was Nanase’s opposite. The scout would normally allow the fight come to her but Magic wasn’t particularly confrontational as she was arrogant. Just like with Yumi, she would have to take the reigns and finish things herself. Across the room, her eyes narrowed as they found their target leaned against the teacher’s podium with a cocky grin. With a soft growl, she lunged forward at the magical student, swinging her heavy fists down against her but only to be greeted with a piercing, shattering noise as her fist collided with a standing glass mirror. Nanase cried out, gripping her hand as blood began to seep from her knuckles where shards embedded itself in her flesh.

“Ah–! Fucking… bitch!!”

From behind her she could heard the most aggravating laughter which were followed by intervals of clapping and gasps of air. “I heard you were one to jump the gun but are you really that stupid?” Magic snorted, having to hide her toothy grin behind her hand. “I can’t believe this, this is even better than magic.”

“Fighting dirty… why don't you come at me seriously!” Nanase took her bloodied fist, ignoring the stinging pain as she attempted another speedy swing, whipping the crimson liquid in every direction. One after another, Nanase aimed at her chest before slinking around her to launch knee her in the back. However, before she could even make contact with Magic, the magician jumped forward with her hands up in a mock surrender. She twirled on her heels to face her again with a laugh.

“Another girl before you said the same thing! Something like ‘living without seriousness means nothing.’ Stupid.”

“What the fuck do I care!?” Nanase growled and rushed forward, kicking at her with her heel. And when Magic successfully dodged, Nanase would fling herself right into swinging punches again, gritting through her throbbing pain. Her annoyance and anger boiled over, not even realizing just how much strain she was putting her body through.

“Interestingly! We ended up as comrades. So Ill tell you what I told her.” Magic blocked her rival’s fist as it flew past by grabbing it with her own, slamming her fist into her opponent's stomach the moment she could. When Nanase groaned softly, Magic met her eyes with a confident smile. “This is my Majikku.”

Nanase snarled, the magician’s words grating on her nerves. She hugged the girls arm with her own now stained with blood and drove her back into the blackboard. With her body pinning the annoying girl against the surface, she ripped her hand from Magic’s grip and use it to grab the Majijo girl’s messy hair to trap her. Driving her fists against the girl’s lower stomach until she felt her slump against her arm, she stepped back and released her foot into her side.

Magic only forced laughter out with each painful hit. Bruises formed and blood spilled, but she allowed it, couldn’t care less. It was as if she was judging her character based on every action she chose to do. While Nanase was about to land a punch to her cheek, Magic gladly let the fist fall against her as her hand gripped for the scout’s school tie. With the close proximity, she forced the other closer, face to face with blood pooled from the corner her smirk.

“That hurt, you know.”

Nanase grinned softly. One thing was always true about her and that was she would never get caught unless she allowed it. She straightened out slightly, peering into her. “Good.” With the distance so short, the scout drove her fist into her side repeatedly until Magic tried to force her off. Even then, Nanase pushed her back against the wall, holding her by the throat with her right hand as her left continued its assault against Magic’s frame and face.

Magic beamed still. The pain was no more or less as painful as the pain Sakura inflicted the first time they had met. She knew exactly how to deal with it thanks to such an experience. It had made it all the more simple as to how to embed her way into her opponent’s head. With each hit, the damage became more bearable. “You really are an idiot.”

Nanase paused, her fist stopped mid-swing. Before she could question Magic, a cold, stinging liquid sprayed at her from her mouth like a puff of vapour. It smelled like a chemical of some sort, sour but peppery at the same time, still incredibly intense and intoxicating. It narrowly missed in the heat if the moment, yet some of its range landed into her eyes. She instantly jolted back, wiping at her eyes with the cuffs of her sleeves as she loudly groaned and hissed in pain.

“You know, you're a lot like Sakura, thinking you have an advantage as soon as you’re able to land a few hits.” Magic scoffed, walking around her and spitting out a mouthful of blood to the side. With her thumb, she rubbed the streak of thick crimson from her chin. “Please, I know how you fight better than you do.”

Nanase growled and threw her fists blindly towards her voice but missed each time. Even as to say she resembled a flailing fish. Her vision was blurred, watery and burning, opening them and exposing her eyes to air proved too painful. However, her stubborn nature refused to let her flame burn out.

Magic merely danced around her, laughing with successful dodge. She couldn’t help but be entertained with the display of blind desperation since Nanase had gotten a few really good hits in her after all. Though, after two minutes of fooling around she knew what little of the pepper spray that got to her wouldn't hinder her for much longer. Magic placed her hands against Nanase’s back and shoved her sharply into the locked supply closet near the back of the room.

Nanase snarled and rubbed at her eyes again, turning to make out her shape well enough to jump at her figure. But she was stopped. A bitter metal held her bloody mess of a hand to the supply closet handle. “What is this!?” Nanase squinted and wiped her eyes with her uniform sleeve as the burning began to weaken. Blinking out the blurred haze, she saw metal handcuffs were restraining her wrist back like a wild animal. For the first time she was caught against her will. Nanase pulled and struggled against the short chain, trying to break the steel, but here was a larger threat behind her. She snapped her attention over and lunged as far as she could and attempted to kick at the magician. And missed.

“You really think you could hit me?” With a scoff, Magic took a step back with every swing her victim attempted. “Not so easy this time is it, idiot?”

Nanase hissed venomously. “You really are weak if you have to use tricks and weapons to take someone down.” She pulled at the cuff more and more, trying to worm her way out, hoping at least the wetness from her open wounds would help her slide out of her entrapment. But to no avail. “A cheap victory like this won't be counted. Not with real yankees.”

“Only when my opponent is a little shit who doesn't know the consequences of her actions.” She crossed her arms, striding over. “You think I saw this as a real challenge for a second?” She took the opportunity to grip Nanase's chin with a smirk. “You broke a girl’s leg as a declaration of war. This is payback, nothing more.” Roughly, digging her fingers into her chin, Magic released her head first against the cold metal cabinet. Of course, after, she jumped back before Nanase recovered enough to come back at her.

Having her head slammed against hard metal shook her equilibrium, disorienting her balance and vision. Payback, huh? Possible brain damage in return for a broken leg. Nanase groaned, gingerly lifting her head while pressing her free hand to her crown as if to steady her spinning vision. She shook her head from side to side to rid herself of her dizziness, narrowing her eyes at the Majijo girl as her figure finally singled. Glaring daggers at her, an ebbing worry deep inside her told her that she may be in over her head this time, but she buried that feeling and masked it with anger and rage. Nanase was going to slaughter Magic, if she could.

“You know, I researched you a little before coming here.” Magic watched her attempts to grab at her and free herself with great amusement. “I found it really interesting!” This really was deja vu. Nanase completely resembled Sakura from when they first fought. Except this time, she was sure the scout before her didn’t have the strength to break out of steel cuffs. She laughed to herself, holding her side as it stung from the wounds. “Keep trying! I'm sure you'll get out!” Magic slid back over and gripped Nanase's tousled hair, ripping it back to meet her eye. “As if. You're not the protagonist. Don't flatter yourself.” With her venomous words, she drove home her point with a punch to Nanase’s temple the second she released her hair. Once more, she tangled her fingers in the mess of hair to make sure Nanase listened to her. “You're just a kid who thinks they can get away with anything and everything.” Magic snorted with a conniving smirk. “You're not special. You’re strong but you don't fight for shit.” With the leverage Magic manufactured, she began her barrage of attacks as payback for the assault made on her. “Not for that excuse you call a team, not for that girl in the courtyard.” A punch to the chest, the cheek, at one point she stretched the girl out and drove her knee into the girl's stomach until she dropped to the floor. “You’re nothing more than an entitled brat who no one will miss.”

Nanase trembled and gripped onto the chain binding her, her breath shaking more and more from pain and the crawling sensation of fear. “What’s–” She paused to inhale sharply, grimacing at the floor. Even the slightest movement stung everywhere, the air stinging her wounds and broken skin. “What… what does that make you then? An old hag who can't even manage to graduate?” Slowly, She rose her gaze, still wearing that shitty grin through all of her bruises and pain. “You hardly even filled the last Queen’s shoes… and you said I won't be missed? Don't flatter yourself, you're trash.” Nanase coughed softly, laughing through the pain with her free hand on her stomach. “At least I–”

Magic narrowed her gaze. The Noborizaka yankee’s words had struck a nerve, the anger boiling in her and apparent on her face, all traces of humour was gone. In an enraged fit, she kicked at the girl on the floor, sending her back against the cold metal. “You fucking brat!!” Magic snarled, slamming her boot into Nanase’s chest with a sickening crack.

Nanase gripped the cabinet, crying out in pain. A new pain she hadn't known before, surely a broken rib, or at least a fracture. She knew enough about anatomy to deduce that on her own. Sure, she got the last laugh, but this was bad. That terror and worry was creeping back on her and she didn’t have to energy to fight it back anymore. Her entire team would be stopped here. Even worse than that, she would have disappointed them after talking so haught. She couldn't fight anymore. Her eyes fell closed, she expected another fatal strike but the pain stopped. She didn't dare open her eyes but faint grunting, loud banging, and yelps could be heard. Did someone come? She couldn't be certain. But her hand fell from the restraint into her lap, bruises and cuts finally being revealed across her wrist. Whoever had come, pulled the broken yankee into their frame with care and a loving touch, allowing her head to fall against their chest.

“Don't worry, I've got you…” The soft voice was whispered against the crown of her head as lips pressed against her unkempt hair. Nanase knew that voice.

“Yumi…?” She struggled to open her eyes for a second, looking up at the girl whom she assumed would have left her for dead. She was carrying her down the hall, arms wrapped around her so tightly, she had no fear of being let go. “Why…?”

“Don't speak, we're almost to the nurse office.”

Nanase had no room to argue, complying with her order just as soon as she had spoke. Her head gently fell against her chest again, letting her warmth sooth her sore muscles. The last thing she could recall was being laid upon a soft and cool bed before her world was safe enough to relax. Nanase’s work was done for today.

To be continued…

#Noborizaka: November Rain #Noborizaka #N:NR #Nogizaka46 #Majisuka Gakuen #collab #w.Ali #Multi-chapter #FINALLY #I'M SORRY THIS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO TAKE SO LONG

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