Writing at least 1k words every day until I can confidently claim that I'm consistent.

[waderer]

Day 1 of Writing at Least 1k Words Every Day Until I Can Confidently Claim that I'm Consistent

This is my attempt at holding myself accountable. This is not actually a complete work, a chapter or even an edited draft. It's just a chunk of raw words I typed. it's two days worth though. I started yesterday.
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Hanabi's pace was a bit sluggish, and the vein throbbing in her temple without her byakugan activated was any indicator, she was dead tired, and in no mood to deal with any bullshit that was thrown at her this day.

Ano, the Hyuga branch family member tasked with being the ears, eyes and hands of the Hyuga heiress, tentatively took a step to the side of the door, bowing gracefully toward Hanabi.

"Please have a peaceful time off, lady Hanabi."

"Hmph," Hanabi scoffed, did not deign to argue, instead, walking out of the courtyard.

"Take the day off if you want," Hanabi added as she walked directly into the courtyard, not even bothering to take the stairs.

"I thank you for your grace, Lady Hanabi," Ano spoke from the room.

"Baah! Always with the niceties, ease up a little," Hanabi grumbled.

And Ano chuckled. Ano of the few years back woldn't have dared chuckle in front of the main family, much less to the direct heiress.

But ever since Lady Hinata issued the policy to remove the enslavement function of the cursed seal, and ever since she became the trusted attendand of Hanabi-A job she took no less pride in- she had eased up a little.

It was delightfully welcome change for Hanabi, who was always suffocated by the deference of most of her clansmen, often including those of the main family.

Ano just wished her young mistress would be able to wash away her fatigue with the night, and be able to get back to work tomorrow.

With Lady Hinata absolving her father of the clan leader position, and running off somewhere to find her love, all the responsibilities of the clan had fallen on Hanabi.

Ano would hate nothing more than Hanabi's absence tomorrow.

…

Hanabi walked the streets almost unnoticed.

Her gate was steady, the earlier sluggishness somewhat vanishing as she rounded the corner, listening to the titbits of conversation that was happening all around her.

She still didn't have a destination of choice. That was, until she heard an interesting piece of information.

"Yo, did you hear, 'The Legendary Sucker' is in the casino."

"The Legendary what?"

"S U C K E- Ouch!"

"You idiot! do you have any idea who you are talking about?! That's lady Tsunade's nickname!! That's the Senju clan head we're talking about, one of the 3 Sannin! Do you wish to ruin your life that badly?!"

"Come on man! Why be such a vibe killer? It's not like anyone outside heard us!"

"Yeah, the last one who made a similar comment was found the next day in a ditch with his stomach full of sewage water! Those fanboys will do anything man! It's better not to get involved."

Hanabi ignored the more miscellaneous parts of the conversation and focused on the main point.

Lady Tsunade was in the casino.

Well, now she had her destination.

Her pace quickened, her sluggish gait gaining a bit of energy.

…

"Well, I guess her title truly is deserved," The bald, handsome, barkeeper chimed in, his head resting on his knuckles, looking over at the table where money enough to fill the coffers of a minor ninja village was being drained from one side to another.

"Indeed," Hanabi couldn't help but agree. It was like a dam opening and water gushing out.

Form the moment she had entered the casino, ordered a beverage, till now, by her 13th​ refill, Lady Tsunade hadn't won a single match. And she was loosing a whole lot. A WHOLE LOT.

The man sitting across her even seemed a bit scared, at the amount of money he was hoarding in his side, occasionally looking around the casino as if looking for someone.

"MORE CHIPS!!!" Tsunade ordered, and poor Shizune had no choice but to exchange more money for more chips.

"I wonder when she'll stop," Hanabi said absentmindedly.

"I bet at least another million," the bald barkeep, chimed in, now looking a bit interested.

"Nah, I think more than 3 million," Hanabi gave the man a once-over as she said. She added, "Another round please."

"Anything for my fair lady!" the bald man, with the grace of a seasoned barkeep, poured her another shot.

"How about a bet? I bet the sannin will stop with another million down the drain," the barkeep suggested.

"I'll take that!" Hanabi didn't really know why, but she found herself finding pleasure in the not-so-productive conversation they were having. She took the glass in her hands, and continued, "But what's the wager."

"Well, I'll drink the whole bottle of this fine Whisky if I lose, and since Lady-" the bald barkeep trailed off;

And Hanabi continued, "Hanabi."

"It's a pleasure to meet you lady Hanabi, I'm Jeremiah." The man said with bow of his head, his shiny head reflecting the like of the warm spotlight, "Continuing, since Lady Hanabi already had her fair share of drink today, how about three consecutive shots?"

"An unfair wager, just the way I like it," Hanabi slowly sipped her drink, "I've been meaning to ask, don't you have a dress code to keep? As a bartender?"

She glanced at the now quiet bar, where the other keeps were either wiping down the counter or drying glasses.

"I don't work here; I just volunteered since you seem to really need a drink, and the all the fine gentlemen were busy—what the hell?!"

Hanabi chuckled, "She went all in."

"That's 2 million! I knew the Senju were rich, but not by this much!"

"Well, most of Konoha's properties once belonged to the Senju clan. While not in their prime at the moment, more than 30% of real estate in the main district is under the name of the senju clan and their sole heiress."

"Ah! That much? No wonder, no wonder! And down the drain it goes."

A thud echoed, and the sannin faceplanted the table, the man in the opposite side sweating despite his sudden windfall.

"Well, it seems you lost, Eremiah!"

"Indeed, I have, but you haven't won yet! Judging from her current condition, It doesn't look like she'll continue!"

"Well, see about that."

Everyone in the casino waited with bated breath, waiting for the lady's next move. Shizune looked like she wanted to drag her teacher off at the moment, but was too afraid to approach with the dangerous aura emanating from her tutor.

After a moment of silence, Tsunade head rose, and she commanded in a tone that left no room for rebuttal.

"Shizune, change another million into chips," Tsunade abruptly turned toward The bald man in the bar, glaring as she said, "Just to have you drink the bottle you baldy."

"Wha- What did I do?!" Jeremiah protested, and Hanabi giggled.

Shizune seem to hesitate to hand over the chips to tsunade and the sannin snapped, "I'll stop if I don't win even with this, happy now?"

…

Another thud echoed thorugh the casino, and this time it was that of the table's leg giving way at the head planting of the sannin.

"Yep, that's a full bottle of whiskey for you!" Hanabi said with a cheerful tone.

"I guess," Jeremiah sighed, picked up a fresh bottle of northern whiskey from the shelves and walked around the counter, "But do you mind if we leave the place for a while? I think that lady is about to find trouble with me anytime."

Hanabi was only happy to oblige. And her booze indued giddiness did well to have her follow a stranger.

Under the commotion, they slipped away unnoticed.

Hanabi was a veteran ninja of the Hyuga Clan, and her expertise in stealth was only expected. But who was this bald stranger? For him to be so… proficient, that even the Hyuga clan heiress, such as herself had to resort to her Byakugan to keep track of his sneaky steps?

Hanabi was really curious now, as she kept up pace with the man as they sneaked.

They slowed their pace a few blocks away from the casino.

Konoha's night market was as bustling as ever, and the streets were packed with people.

It wasn't that hard for them to sneak away.

Hanabi, feeling a sense of excitement bubbling inside her, asked. "So, when are you going to drink it?"

"I don't know. It is illegal to drink on public places, maybe we should find another pu-"

"How about the Hokage rock?"

Jeremiah was about to suggest finding another pub or, someplace similar to keep his side of the bet, but Hanabi went ahead and suggested the sacred monument of the village.

"The Hokage rock? Isn't the entry to that place restricted?" Jeremiah was curious. Why was the huga clan heiress- if the ramblings of the drunken patron's were anything to go by- now asking him to go to the Hokage rock?

His thoughts flared, but he suppressed them. This was a fun night and fun things shouldn't be viewed with caution.

"Bah, it's not like it's the Hokage's office. Who cares. It's just some stupid rock with the stupid faces of some stupid geezers."

Hanabi seemed positively disdainful.

Jeremiah raised the bottle High and announced.

"To the Stupid Rock we go!!!!"

"YEEEAAAHHH!!!!! THAT's right!!!" Hanabi raved, her arms swinging.

Some startled passersby looked at them curiously and even an Uchiha Patrol officer raised his club at them.

"Hey! Drinking in public places is illegal."

And the two miscreants bolted, giggling like little children.

Sure, both being powerhouses, it wasn't easy for them to be drunk and lose their awareness.

But Alcohol could indeed chip away at the rough edges. No matter how powerful the individual is.

Before long, they were at the Hokage Rock, hiding behind a rock, evading the gaze of the ninja who had come up to patrol the cliff face.

"Damn, are there patrolmen stationed here?" Jeremiah mumbled under his breath.

"No, it's just a routine human check."

It's mostly the arrays that do the lookout work.

Jeremiah looked at the Tag that Hanabi had attached on the whiskey bottle.

He was fairly certain that this tag was helping them evade the detection of the said array.

Before long, the ninja, who looked positively bored out of his mind and sleepy, left.

Jeremiah and Hanabi stumbled out of their hiding place, both giggling.

Somehow, doing something so silly felt so…intoxicating.

Jeremiah was half done with the bottle.

"Want some?" Jeremiah asked, offering the bottle.

"Sure," Hanabi snatched the bottle and took a swig. It was a raw and undignified motion, but it was soo charming. A trickle of whiskey rolled down her neck, staining her robes, highlighting her glistening neck.

It was charming.

She crudely wiped her face with her sleeves, and Jeremiah felt even that was graceful.

She handed the bottle back.

"Hey, but doesn't that mean you didn't hold up your end of the bet? The bet was one whole bottle!"

Jeremiah looked down at the bottle, then at Hanabi, and foolishly grinned.

"Guilty! Maybe I should go down and get another bottle?"

Hanabi felt her heart pound a little harder.

The moonlight reflected off Jeremiah's shiny bald head, and the reflection made Hanabi want to sneeze.

For the first time in her whole life, Hanabi found a bald man attractive. Certainly, more attractive than the moron the clan had found for her. And certainly more attractive than whoever the bastard her stupid bitch of a sister had found herself infatuated with… she hoped.

She leaned in. and the moment caught Jeremiah's eye.

He turned and Hanabi pecked the man on the lips.

"…"

"…"

Silence reigned, and the man looked positively hungry for more.

Hanabi hoped.

But Jeremiah held himself back.

He touched his lips softly, and looked at Hanabi.

"You sure you aren't just drunk?" Jeremiah asked, and his voice lacking the confidence it normally carried.

"No," Hanabi's voice didn't waver.

"Good," this time, Jeremiah leaned in, capturing his lips in hers.

…

Sure, the clan wasn't pressuring her about marrying anyone. They had simply found her a match and had asked if Hanabi had taken a liking to him.

Did she? Hanabi didn't know.

She had asked her sister for an advice. After all, word was that she had indeed found her love.

'Well, it's your life, and no matter whatever choice you I will be there for you.'

'…'

It was her choice.

Was it.

It hadn't been too long since she was left with the ability to chose watever she wanted for herself.

Her entire childhood played out the way the clan wanted, her father wanted, for her to grow up as a figurehead clan leader.

She wasn't entirely familier with making choices herself. Even in her traiing to become a leader, all the choices she had to make were handpicked by the clan elders.

And she was comfortable with the way things were.

But her sister had come in, and 'liberated' the clan.

Now she was met with for too many choices she wasn't entirely comfortable with.

 

[Despacitoleo]

Ooooooh hanabai getting close to someone ehhehehehe


Also nice chapter

 

[waderer]

Day 1 of Writing 1k Words Every Day Until I Can Confidently Claim that I'm Consistent

This is my attempt at holding myself accountable. This is not actually a complete work, a chapter or even an edited draft. It's just a chunk of raw words I typed. it's two days worth though. I started yesterday.
...
...
...


Hanabi's pace was a bit sluggish, and the vein throbbing in her temple without her byakugan activated was any indicator, she was dead tired, and in no mood to deal with any bullshit that was thrown at her this day.

Ano, the Hyuga branch family member tasked with being the ears, eyes and hands of the Hyuga heiress, tentatively took a step to the side of the door, bowing gracefully toward Hanabi.

"Please have a peaceful time off, lady Hanabi."

"Hmph," Hanabi scoffed, did not deign to argue, instead, walking out of the courtyard.

"Take the day off if you want," Hanabi added as she walked directly into the courtyard, not even bothering to take the stairs.

"I thank you for your grace, Lady Hanabi," Ano spoke from the room.

"Baah! Always with the niceties, ease up a little," Hanabi grumbled.

And Ano chuckled. Ano of the few years back woldn't have dared chuckle in front of the main family, much less to the direct heiress.

But ever since Lady Hinata issued the policy to remove the enslavement function of the cursed seal, and ever since she became the trusted attendand of Hanabi-A job she took no less pride in- she had eased up a little.

It was delightfully welcome change for Hanabi, who was always suffocated by the deference of most of her clansmen, often including those of the main family.

Ano just wished her young mistress would be able to wash away her fatigue with the night, and be able to get back to work tomorrow.

With Lady Hinata absolving her father of the clan leader position, and running off somewhere to find her love, all the responsibilities of the clan had fallen on Hanabi.

Ano would hate nothing more than Hanabi's absence tomorrow.

…

Hanabi walked the streets almost unnoticed.

Her gate was steady, the earlier sluggishness somewhat vanishing as she rounded the corner, listening to the titbits of conversation that was happening all around her.

She still didn't have a destination of choice. That was, until she heard an interesting piece of information.

"Yo, did you hear, 'The Legendary Sucker' is in the casino."

"The Legendary what?"

"S U C K E- Ouch!"

"You idiot! do you have any idea who you are talking about?! That's lady Tsunade's nickname!! That's the Senju clan head we're talking about, one of the 3 Sannin! Do you wish to ruin your life that badly?!"

"Come on man! Why be such a vibe killer? It's not like anyone outside heard us!"

"Yeah, the last one who made a similar comment was found the next day in a ditch with his stomach full of sewage water! Those fanboys will do anything man! It's better not to get involved."

Hanabi ignored the more miscellaneous parts of the conversation and focused on the main point.

Lady Tsunade was in the casino.

Well, now she had her destination.

Her pace quickened, her sluggish gait gaining a bit of energy.

…

"Well, I guess her title truly is deserved," The bald, handsome, barkeeper chimed in, his head resting on his knuckles, looking over at the table where money enough to fill the coffers of a minor ninja village was being drained from one side to another.

"Indeed," Hanabi couldn't help but agree. It was like a dam opening and water gushing out.

Form the moment she had entered the casino, ordered a beverage, till now, by her 13th​ refill, Lady Tsunade hadn't won a single match. And she was loosing a whole lot. A WHOLE LOT.

The man sitting across her even seemed a bit scared, at the amount of money he was hoarding in his side, occasionally looking around the casino as if looking for someone.

"MORE CHIPS!!!" Tsunade ordered, and poor Shizune had no choice but to exchange more money for more chips.

"I wonder when she'll stop," Hanabi said absentmindedly.

"I bet at least another million," the bald barkeep, chimed in, now looking a bit interested.

"Nah, I think more than 3 million," Hanabi gave the man a once-over as she said. She added, "Another round please."

"Anything for my fair lady!" the bald man, with the grace of a seasoned barkeep, poured her another shot.

"How about a bet? I bet the sannin will stop with another million down the drain," the barkeep suggested.

"I'll take that!" Hanabi didn't really know why, but she found herself finding pleasure in the not-so-productive conversation they were having. She took the glass in her hands, and continued, "But what's the wager."

"Well, I'll drink the whole bottle of this fine Whisky if I lose, and since Lady-" the bald barkeep trailed off;

And Hanabi continued, "Hanabi."

"It's a pleasure to meet you lady Hanabi, I'm Jeremiah." The man said with bow of his head, his shiny head reflecting the like of the warm spotlight, "Continuing, since Lady Hanabi already had her fair share of drink today, how about three consecutive shots?"

"An unfair wager, just the way I like it," Hanabi slowly sipped her drink, "I've been meaning to ask, don't you have a dress code to keep? As a bartender?"

She glanced at the now quiet bar, where the other keeps were either wiping down the counter or drying glasses.

"I don't work here; I just volunteered since you seem to really need a drink, and the all the fine gentlemen were busy—what the hell?!"

Hanabi chuckled, "She went all in."

"That's 2 million! I knew the Senju were rich, but not by this much!"

"Well, most of Konoha's properties once belonged to the Senju clan. While not in their prime at the moment, more than 30% of real estate in the main district is under the name of the senju clan and their sole heiress."

"Ah! That much? No wonder, no wonder! And down the drain it goes."

A thud echoed, and the sannin faceplanted the table, the man in the opposite side sweating despite his sudden windfall.

"Well, it seems you lost, Eremiah!"

"Indeed, I have, but you haven't won yet! Judging from her current condition, It doesn't look like she'll continue!"

"Well, see about that."

Everyone in the casino waited with bated breath, waiting for the lady's next move. Shizune looked like she wanted to drag her teacher off at the moment, but was too afraid to approach with the dangerous aura emanating from her tutor.

After a moment of silence, Tsunade head rose, and she commanded in a tone that left no room for rebuttal.

"Shizune, change another million into chips," Tsunade abruptly turned toward The bald man in the bar, glaring as she said, "Just to have you drink the bottle you baldy."

"Wha- What did I do?!" Jeremiah protested, and Hanabi giggled.

Shizune seem to hesitate to hand over the chips to tsunade and the sannin snapped, "I'll stop if I don't win even with this, happy now?"

…

Another thud echoed thorugh the casino, and this time it was that of the table's leg giving way at the head planting of the sannin.

"Yep, that's a full bottle of whiskey for you!" Hanabi said with a cheerful tone.

"I guess," Jeremiah sighed, picked up a fresh bottle of northern whiskey from the shelves and walked around the counter, "But do you mind if we leave the place for a while? I think that lady is about to find trouble with me anytime."

Hanabi was only happy to oblige. And her booze indued giddiness did well to have her follow a stranger.

Under the commotion, they slipped away unnoticed.

Hanabi was a veteran ninja of the Hyuga Clan, and her expertise in stealth was only expected. But who was this bald stranger? For him to be so… proficient, that even the Hyuga clan heiress, such as herself had to resort to her Byakugan to keep track of his sneaky steps?

Hanabi was really curious now, as she kept up pace with the man as they sneaked.

They slowed their pace a few blocks away from the casino.

Konoha's night market was as bustling as ever, and the streets were packed with people.

It wasn't that hard for them to sneak away.

Hanabi, feeling a sense of excitement bubbling inside her, asked. "So, when are you going to drink it?"

"I don't know. It is illegal to drink on public places, maybe we should find another pu-"

"How about the Hokage rock?"

Jeremiah was about to suggest finding another pub or, someplace similar to keep his side of the bet, but Hanabi went ahead and suggested the sacred monument of the village.

"The Hokage rock? Isn't the entry to that place restricted?" Jeremiah was curious. Why was the huga clan heiress- if the ramblings of the drunken patron's were anything to go by- now asking him to go to the Hokage rock?

His thoughts flared, but he suppressed them. This was a fun night and fun things shouldn't be viewed with caution.

"Bah, it's not like it's the Hokage's office. Who cares. It's just some stupid rock with the stupid faces of some stupid geezers."

Hanabi seemed positively disdainful.

Jeremiah raised the bottle High and announced.

"To the Stupid Rock we go!!!!"

"YEEEAAAHHH!!!!! THAT's right!!!" Hanabi raved, her arms swinging.

Some startled passersby looked at them curiously and even an Uchiha Patrol officer raised his club at them.

"Hey! Drinking in public places is illegal."

And the two miscreants bolted, giggling like little children.

Sure, both being powerhouses, it wasn't easy for them to be drunk and lose their awareness.

But Alcohol could indeed chip away at the rough edges. No matter how powerful the individual is.

Before long, they were at the Hokage Rock, hiding behind a rock, evading the gaze of the ninja who had come up to patrol the cliff face.

"Damn, are there patrolmen stationed here?" Jeremiah mumbled under his breath.

"No, it's just a routine human check."

It's mostly the arrays that do the lookout work.

Jeremiah looked at the Tag that Hanabi had attached on the whiskey bottle.

He was fairly certain that this tag was helping them evade the detection of the said array.

Before long, the ninja, who looked positively bored out of his mind and sleepy, left.

Jeremiah and Hanabi stumbled out of their hiding place, both giggling.

Somehow, doing something so silly felt so…intoxicating.

Jeremiah was half done with the bottle.

"Want some?" Jeremiah asked, offering the bottle.

"Sure," Hanabi snatched the bottle and took a swig. It was a raw and undignified motion, but it was soo charming. A trickle of whiskey rolled down her neck, staining her robes, highlighting her glistening neck.

It was charming.

She crudely wiped her face with her sleeves, and Jeremiah felt even that was graceful.

She handed the bottle back.

"Hey, but doesn't that mean you didn't hold up your end of the bet? The bet was one whole bottle!"

Jeremiah looked down at the bottle, then at Hanabi, and foolishly grinned.

"Guilty! Maybe I should go down and get another bottle?"

Hanabi felt her heart pound a little harder.

The moonlight reflected off Jeremiah's shiny bald head, and the reflection made Hanabi want to sneeze.

For the first time in her whole life, Hanabi found a bald man attractive. Certainly, more attractive than the moron the clan had found for her. And certainly more attractive than whoever the bastard her stupid bitch of a sister had found herself infatuated with… she hoped.

She leaned in. and the moment caught Jeremiah's eye.

He turned and Hanabi pecked the man on the lips.

"…"

"…"

Silence reigned, and the man looked positively hungry for more.

Hanabi hoped.

But Jeremiah held himself back.

He touched his lips softly, and looked at Hanabi.

"You sure you aren't just drunk?" Jeremiah asked, and his voice lacking the confidence it normally carried.

"No," Hanabi's voice didn't waver.

"Good," this time, Jeremiah leaned in, capturing his lips in hers.

…

Sure, the clan wasn't pressuring her about marrying anyone. They had simply found her a match and had asked if Hanabi had taken a liking to him.

Did she? Hanabi didn't know.

She had asked her sister for an advice. After all, word was that she had indeed found her love.

'Well, it's your life, and no matter whatever choice you I will be there for you.'

'…'

It was her choice.

Was it.

It hadn't been too long since she was left with the ability to chose watever she wanted for herself.

Her entire childhood played out the way the clan wanted, her father wanted, for her to grow up as a figurehead clan leader.

She wasn't entirely familier with making choices herself. Even in her traiing to become a leader, all the choices she had to make were handpicked by the clan elders.

And she was comfortable with the way things were.

But her sister had come in, and 'liberated' the clan.

Now she was met with for too many choices she wasn't entirely comfortable with.

Click to shrink...

So, Day 2 it is

As usual, her sleep was quiet. No one came to wake her up. And it would be in her design when to wake up, unless of course there was an emergency in the clan. But today, it seemed, was peaceful.

Hanabi wrapped herself tighter in her blanket, using what little awareness had surfaced from her sleep to position herself comfortably.

Despite the winter air creeping in, Hanabi felt herself not feeling the chill.

It was… warm.

Her bare back felt warm. The thing wrapped around her torso felt warm, exuding the gentle, soothing something that made one fall back asleep.

It wasn't the sensation of fabric; instead, it was the raw warmth of something she couldn't pinpoint.

Her subconscious mind didn't pinpoint the sensation; instead, it melted into it.

But, as a trained ninja, Hanabi's senses flared. and she abruptly opened her eyes.

Her body recovered instantly from the deep sleep, the relaxed flesh and muscles from the comfortable sleep tightened abruptly. Whatever was wrapped around body reacted imperceptibly.

But Hanabi didn't move recklessly.

Her byakugan flared, and everything kilometres in radius around her was observed by her senses.

And she flushed, her rigid body relaxing, her whole body flushing as if a tomato.

She was indeed in her own room, deep in the Hyuga compound. Her guards were there, everyone that should be in the compound were there. Expect the one addition that had her in his grasp.

Loose clothes were strung across her room, a faint smell lingering through the winter chill.

Hanabi's legs twitched, feeling the warm sensation between her legs.

Right. Yesterday.

'ArrrrghhH!!!' Hanabi groaned aloud in her mind.

She had done something stupid.

Entirely on her own accord, but one she now thought was stupid.

Yes, she was overwhelmed by everything that was happening around her. Yes, she was in need of some much-needed warmth. Yes… But she, a clan heiress, someone capable of standing on her own anywhere in the shinobi world, shouldn't be throwing herself to a man like this.

Especially one she barely knew. Even if the man had untold achievements to his name!!!

Her throughs were interrupted as the arm warped around her waist, snuggled against the underside of her bosom stirred, and the man rolled around with a deep breath.

She was freed.

A slight breeze seemed to stir in the room, and Hanabi once again felt the cold. This time, there wasn't the warmth she had quickly grown used to to keep it away.

Instead, through the slight gap between the two of them, cold air seemed to seep in.

Hanabi glanced at the clock. It was only 3 am.

It was long before dawn broke.

She brought herself closer to the man, adjusted his arms and used it as a pillow, wrapping his other arm around her waist, snuggling closer, this time hugging the man herself.

She had time. And once dawn broke, it wouldn't matter. What was a one-night stand for a clan heiress?

Jeremiah stirred, even though he was someone who could sleep through the commotion of the world ending. He noticed someone rearranging his arms.

A sigh welled up in him, but he suppressed it.

Instead, he held the woman snuggling close to him tighter, giving her the warmth she needed.

He should speak with Hinata.

…

Note: This is about 500 words of, say, a conclusion to the Hanabi x Jeremiah thing.
Jeremiah is a character I've been cooking for a while for my Naruto fanfic set in the Kaguya era. I have grand designs and all, to rewrite the entire history of the shinobi world, starting form the time when the God tree was planted, of course, with Kaguya as the love interest. Buttt, whenever I start writing, I'm hit with the sudden sense that, 'I'll never be able to complete it', 'I can do better if I thought a little more and wrote it later'... etc.. etc.. I've been procrastinating on it for... idk how long.

This daily thing is an attempt to curb that though and just get on with writing the thing my whole being yearns for.

that said, i haven't completed the quota of 1k words today. and I fully intend on following through my promise to myself. and I will be editing this one shot thingy and uploading it in a while.

 

[waderer]

Alright! It's still day 2; but this is the part two of day two.

This is my attempt at writing an original short story with a prompt I got from reddit.
The prompt is as follows; Long ago before they went different ways an elven and a human child made a promise to marry each other in a thousand years if they didn't find anyone else they love. Now a thousand years later the unmarried elf knows that humans can't life that long, but the lich still came to keep their promise.
...
I already had about a thousand words written on it, and I just wrote another 750~ words. I will mark what I wrote today separately. with that, I've completed today's quota.


....

Ch 1

The library was quiet, with only the rustle of pages turning.

A human boy and an elven girl sat opposite each other, immersed in their own book, not looking up.

The librarian was there, scribbling down in a book.

A cat wandered around the place, like a patrolman, walking through fixed route, like it was its routine.

After a while, the librarian closed his book, stood up, and looked at the two children reading contentedly.

It always brought a smile to Mr. Ivan's face to see law abiding knowledge seeking young children.

In his humble opinion, Elizabeth and Jonah were miles ahead of the brutes who only ever trained in martial arts, not bothering to even learn reading.

Mr. Ivan walked toward the door of the library, not disturbing the two children walking out as he nodded to the cat who had looked at him from the movement.

The door closed with the slight sound, and after a moment passed, Jonah looked up.

He tuted, and the cat, who was steadily patrolling the library came running to him.

Jonah didn't dare pat the fluffy cat, no matter how much his entire existence earned for it. Mr. Kregils didn't show kindness toward whoever dared to sully his perfectly pruned hair.

Instead, he took a pouch and place it in front of the cat.

Mr. Kregils sniffed it, nodded toward Jonah, picked it up and walked away.

Only then did Jonah dare to breathe aloud, and got back into his book.

The library required absolute silence, and Mr. Kregils enforced the rule. However, even the mighty Mr. Kregils wasn't above temptations.

Elizabeth, who had been covering her face with the book and peeking at the interaction, sighed in relief as the cat walked away, and put down her book.

She stood up, stretched, and started doing handstand pushups with perfect form.

For everyone else, Elizabeth was a perfect student, always immersed in her book, the sweet pupil of Mr. Ivan's. But Jonah knew just how much she hated studying, and just how much she loved martial arts.

"I thought he'd never leave," Elizabeth spoke while still focusing on her workout.

"Yeah, I thought he caught on."

"Nah, you're worrying too much. I don't think he even cares."

"No way. I'm very much sure he hates even the thought of his student pursuing martial arts. Even the other day, I saw him fighting with Mr. Verslis, arguing whether martial arts ot magic was superior."

"Bah, who cares about his opinion anyway?" there was a high note to Elizabeth's voice as she slowly lowered her form.

A comfortable silence passed as Elizabeth's breathing, Jonah's turning of pages and the ruste of Mr. Kregin's playing with the catnip pouch remained the only sound in the area.

Jonah, still focus on his book broke the silence.

"You know my uncle Divan right?"

"Uha."

"He got married the other day?"

"Really?! He got married? I thought he said he never wanted to marry!"

"I know right! I asked him that too!" Jonah looked up from his book, "and he said "people change with time, boy.""

Elizabeth chuckled at Jonah's weak attempt at imitating Uncle Divan.

"I don't get it!" Jonah continued, "Do you know how much it costs to arrange a wedding? I heard the engagement rings alone cost around a grand. I mean, why would anyone spend that much money on a damn ring! How much books could we buy with that?! I bet I'd be able to fill the bedroom library!"

"So you're against marriage?"

"No, but one could do it cheaper!"

Elizabeth snorted. She pushed up against the floor and lept, landing directly on the table, looking directly into Jonah's face.

Jonah looked Elizabeth straight in the eye, not a hint of surprise in his eyes.

Elizabeth jiggles, the sweat on her face fell on the book infront of jonah, her long ears twitching slightly.

"Say, If we, we both remain unmarried for the next, wellllll, thousand years, how about we marry each other?"

"Hmmm," Jonah hummed, "Alright, but only if you agree to do it minimally."

"Let's hold off on the details, who knows, maybe people really will change with time."

"Oh trust me Elle, I'll never change!"

…

Ch 2

Elizabeth's eyes fluttered open, the musky scent of old books and the vibrant colours of her spirits cluttering around overwhelming her senses for a moment.

The spirits, like chicks gathering around the mother bird, gathered around Elizabeth. Pushing and shoving, rubbing themselves against the elf who giggled.

People did change with life.

The Elizabeth had set her sights on becoming the greatest martial that ever lived. But here she was the greatest Archmage to have ever lived in the world, surrounding herself with books.

"How long has it been since we entered the library?" Elizabeth asked, her voice still a bit groggy, stifling a yawn.

"Three years and thirty two days, my lady."

The spirit, with a blob of fire for head and wearing a butler's suit answered.

"That long?" Elizabeth instantly sobered up.

"Why didn't any of you remind me?" the elf rubbed her forehead, "Wait, just to confirm, today's march 17th 3026?"

"According to the divine calendar, yes my lady."

Elizabeth stood up, a smile tugging on her lips as she stretched.

"Great, at least there's still a few days left."

She was the greatest mage in the world. She simply did not have the need to keep an alarm clock or activate any magic of the equivalent.

Her mind was perfectly capable of reminding her of deadlines, important dates along the line.

But, this time, her mental clock had failed her.

Why?

She thought to herself.

Sure, there had been moments in her life,where she ignored the deadlines, or schedules. But that had been because of her immeriveness in what she was studying and her lack of interest in the task.

But the subsequent task was something she had been looking forward to her whole life.

Sure, there was an overwhelming possibility that the day wouldn't go as the two naive children had planned that day.

But still, elizabeth wanted a closure on that chapter of her life.

Logic dictated that her simply wouldn't make it to their meeting the next week.

He was only a human, and there weren't any news on him ever since their entire family moved town.

She had searched a whole lot for him after she achieved her status. But even the greatest archmage of the known world had her limitations.

She hadn't found his whereabouts, 950 years prior, and her mind simply refused to believe that he was still waiting for her.

But she wanted to know. To reach a conclusion. So that her mind could be at ease.

…

Walking out, the shelves tall as the tallest skyscraper the empire had ever built parted wsys for her and her army of elemental spirits.

They walked and walked and walked, and the ethereal scene changed. Rows upon rows of bookshelves faded and they came before the only door in the entire library.

Elizabeth opened the door and walked out, the spirits cluttered around the door, trying to squeeze through, eventually starting a fight.

The old lady at the counter had a constipated smile on her face as she looked at the damage the spirits were causing at her humble establishment. Sure the things they were breaking weren't anything to write hom about, but she had to clean them up afterwards.

"I'll pay for the damages."

"That would hardly be appropriate my lady. Me and everything in my humble establishment is of service to you and your army. Please don't take it to heart."

"Stop with the flattery, Dina. Frankly, it's creeping me out."

Dina lowered her head.

"Anyway, I'll be out for a while this time. No one is allowed to enter my library. Of course if anyone insists, let them in. Can't save a soul set on dying an agonizing death."

"I will guard this place with my life, my lady."

"Stop it."

"I shall lay down my life–"

"No."

"May my life be the–"

"Yeah, no. I'm leaving." As soon as she finished speaking, Elizabeth vanished. Along with her, the spirits who were making a mess of the surroundings.

…
A/n: starting here is what I wrote today
...
The grand hall seemed to stretch endlessly, and rows of officials stood in formation, one by one submitting their memorial to the Eternal Emperor.

But the man seated in the throne was bored.

It was the same old same old. If not for the need to keep up the tradition, he wouldn't be listening to the nonsense suggestion, appeals and impeachments.

The nation was stable and firmly in his hands. But he couldn't just overexercise that authority.

He needed the nation to function as smoothly as it always had, and with minimal input from his part. For that, the pretence was necessary.

At that moment, the flame of the candle beside the emperor fluttered, the flame gaining a hint of red.

It caught the attention of the emperor's drooping eyes, making the sleepiness on his face vanish instantly.

He waved his hand, his majestic old voice ecchoing thought the walls of the great hall.

"Dismissed," the voice was cold and rational, devoid of much emotion.

The Young official reading aloud is memorial on disaster relief stopped and bowed, along with all the officials present.

The withdrew in an orderly fashion, not making a commotion.

Only once they left the great hall did a commotion erupt among the highest echelons of the empire.

What was so important that the emperor would dismiss them so abruptly? Many among them had, however, noticed the flickeling of the candle. And they knew what it meant.

A great upheaval was about to assail the world.

..

Inside the hall, the emperor listened as the candlelight once again flickered, and a voice as etherial as the stars in the sky spoke out.

"That witch is out of her lair, with her army. What do you intend to do?"

The emperor remained silent for a moment, a moment later, a grin spread across his features. With the long mustache and beard, it looked positively terrifying.

"What else? We've prepared for all these years; it's about time we get rid of that tree hugger.

"I'm expecting your assistance if needed." The emperor rumbled.

"Naturally."

…


The street wasn't as she remembered. There were changes.

It wasn't new to Elizabeth.

A thousand years was a long time, kingdoms popped up and disappeared every decade, and change was the constant.

Aside from some stable old countries which the Gods oversaw, there was nothing that time couldn't change.

Elizabeth, her spirits taking refuge in her hat, slowly walked toward the city gate.

If she so wished, she could appear in her hometown anytime she needed.

It was a matter of mere thought.

But there was still time before the agreed date, and Elizabeth fully intended to once again experience the dullness of mundane travel.

As she colossal city gates grew fainter in the distance, elizabeth noticed the rattle of a carriage.

There was no rhythmic noise of horse hoves hitting the road.

Elizabeth turned around and noticed a cart being pulled by one spider the size of a horse, with what appeared to be moss in in it's back.

Horse mat spider, used as a substitute for horses among the neutral nation. It was best for traversing rough terrain. Although people used it for how cheap they were to maintain.

It had a fungal mat on it's back, in which housed aphids. The spider sucked on the mana produced by these apids to survive, and it ate almost anything.

Elizabeth waved the carriage down and the old man manning the carriage was kind enough to give her a ride to the next town.

This was it.

This was the kind of muane experience she was hoping to enjoy.

The hills, trees, grass, and livestock all whizzed past slowly.

The carriage continued to crackle and the old man continued to cough intermittently.

The sun shined brightly at her dark cloaks, and the whatever bugs where in the hay mat of the carriage crawled out, hoping to bite the traveller.

Right.

This was the mundane life she wanted to experience.

'I should've flown straight!' Elizabeth sighed, took out what seemed to be a rubber ball, and started squeezing it like a stress ball.

What seemd like squeals came from the rubber ball with every squeeze, and Elizabeth felt herself growing calmer.

Gods were the most fun to play with.

They didn't have the ability to give up on themselves. They were resilient like that.
...

A/n: I believe I have a tendency to add padding. does it seem like it? is it taking away from the fun of reading?

 

[waderer]

Ch 3

"I thank you for the ride," Elizabeth said, dipping her head gracefully at the old man. Although the ride was bumpy and slow, it was undeniable that the man, likely younger than herself had shown her kindness.

"Don't mention it young lady, it was nothing," the old man said, his smiling with his few teeths.

The sight made Elizabeth's stomach churn.

'Right, human's are so fragile, there's no wa–' A crisp sound of a crisp slap echoed, making the old drivers smile vanish and look at the young lady with a concerned gaze, some onlookers passing by also turned their gazes.

"Are you alright young lady?" the man's voice was full of worry.

An uncomfortable reality she was trying to show into the back crevices of her mind was now surfacing. But…

"It's alright, I'm just having an episode!" Elizabeth replied cheerfully, waving her hand.

But the old man's face stiffened, and he looked at Elizabeth with a look Elizabeth didn't particularly like. The onlooked weren't concerned enough to stick around though.

Elizabeth smiled, barely visible though the shadow of her hood. Without further ado, she held out a pouch, coins gingling.

"Once again thank you for your trouble," Elizabeth was fully ready for a back and forth exchange of the old man rejecting and her insisting, but the man quickly pocketed the pouch.

"Hohoho, it really was alright! You needn't trouble yourself."

Old man's smile was sooo, for a lack of a better word, bright.

Elizabeth rubbed the head of the Horse mat spider, felling the tingling sense of it's fur one last time as she vanished in place.

The Spider and the old man alike was startled.

…

Elizabeth flew straight toward where her hometown once was.

Tomorrow was the day, and it didn't feel right to delay things any longer.

Before long, what seemed to be a chasm, thousands of kilometres long and hundreds of kilometers wide, appeared before her.

It felt like the world had split in half, gaping the pathway to the underworld.

Elizabeth landed on the cliff, the crimson glow of the setting sun behind her, peering down into the abyss.

It was one of the greatest disasters that had assailed the continent about a thousand years ago.

She was still young back then, when the sky wailed and earth screamed as the casm ripped open.

Hundreds of human settlements were lost that day, an unidentified number of lives extinct, the continent was divided, and the two great seas connected. Seasons changed, peoples lives were affected, numerous flora and fauna went extinct as a consequence.

Elizabeth could still vividly remember the day. She hadn't gone to the library as she usually did, instead sneaking away to watch the martial tournament.

What didn't she invite Jonah back then?

She didn't… Right, he was preparing to move town with his family.

She was a bit upset at that, not cherishing their time together instead staying away.

The memory was all a bit hazy.

She had understood the power of nature that day.

And that no matter how much the body tried, infront of nature they were nothing but…

The sun had set, and the faint illumination of the moon fought to overwhelm the starlight.

A sigh escaped Elizabeth's lips.

She outstretched her hands, and a staff, the most ordinary-looking staff, appeared in her hands.

She slammed it on the ground, and the stars aligned, creating a blend of starlight that illuminated half the world.

She remembers her hometown clearly, the city wall, the gate, the paved roads, every building, every street…

With time as her guide and memories as her anchor, she remembered every nook and cranny of her hometown.

Every piece of soil, every molecule, every atom that comprised her hometown, she remembered.

The starlight individually illuminated every one of them. Across the continent, scattered throughout the abyss, throughout the ocean.

Her hat stirred, and what looked like a worm crawled out from it.

It landed on the ground and expanded, becoming a wyrm that pulsed with the aura of earth.

It roared at the sky and the earth shook.

It soared at the sky, only to dive down back into the earth and disappear.

Time passed.

The starlight continued illuminating the gound.

A thud.

The world shook around Elizabeth.

A giant made of rock and mud climbed the cliff from the abyss, shaking the world with every movement.

It struggled as it crawled onto the cliff face, walked into an open stable ground, and sat down.

It broke down, the rocks and soil it comprised making a pile.

The Earth Wyrm resurfaced from the pile and in another moment, the soil started rearranging itself.

First the city walls. Every detail was the same, every brick, every rock, every detail of the mortar.

The pavements formed, the houses, the barebone trees… everything.

Elizabeth's hometown, as she once knew it materialised.

But it lacked life.

A puff of ball rolled out form underneath Elizabeth's hat, transforming into an ethereal beauty with antler horns as it hit the ground. She seemed to wear a dress made of moss, and life itself seemed to bloom around her.

She blew a breath, and it washed over the city.

Life bloomed, the barebark trees bloomed with life, the leaves growing, the grass peeking out of the ground, and the flowers blooming.

The city seemed to regain its life…or maybe not.

Elizabeth once again sighed as her staff vanished.

"Thank you," she said softly. The Wyrm and the Woman, both with satisfied smiles on their faces, crawled back into the hat.

Elizabeth walked through the open city gate.

It was empty.

No matter how powerful she was, undoing the causality of a thousand years was something she was unwilling to do.

But there was something else she could do.

Once again, the stars aligned. With time as her guide and her memories as her anchor, she projected her hometown from her time into the city.

In an instant, the streets turned lively.

Nightlife was bustling, and Elizabeth walked, taking in every detail.

It was…as she remembered.

She walked through the familiar path, spotting their library.

As it was nighttime, it was closed.

However, he phased through the door, and entered.

She found the table she and Jonah used to study in.

She took a seat at the adjacent table, overlooking their table.

The Library was silent, with only the silent purring of Mr. Kregils as he slept.

She waited in silence.

Dawn broke, and as the church's bell rang, the small bell rang as the library door opened, and Mr. Ivan walked in.

"Good morning Kregils!"

The cat was already grooming his fur.

Mr. Ivan popped a can of cat food into Mr. Kregil's bowl and set himself to dusting the shelves.

The hum of toneless elven music accompanied the dusting of the books.

Before long, bell rang as the library door was pushed open by two noisily chatting children.

"Good Morning Mr. Ivan, and Mr. Kregils," they both greeted.

"Welcome! My pupils! Have a seat, did y'all have breakfast?"

Mr. Ivan's exchanged plesentaries with the children and before long they were seated in the table as Ivan started the lecture.

It was language, one Little Elizabeth wasn't particularly interested in, but one Jonah listened to attentively.

Elizabeth felt her heartbeat quicken as she heard the lecture.

Her young self did not care. But she of now understood. With just how much care and patience Ivan had taught the two of them.

For the first time in her life, Elizabeth listened to Mr. Ivan's lecture wholeheartedly.

The events replayed, just like in her memory.

Eventually, Mr. Ivan left, and Jonah bribed Mr. Kregils.

They talked about Jonah's uncle.

Elizabeth's heart pounded as her younger self pushed off the floor, onto the table, looking at Jonah.

She asked, with bashfulness Elizabeth of now could plainly see.

"Say, If we, we both remain unmarried for the next, wellllll, thousand years, how about we marry each other?"

"Alright, but only if you agree to do it minimally."

And the Boy answered.

"Let's hold off on the details. Who knows, maybe people really will change with time." Elizabeth had hoped.

"Oh trust me Elle, I'll never change!" Now, all she wanted was for him to remain unchanged.

Elizabeth held back her tears that threatened to over flow, her neck muscles twitching, her jaws clenched, blood vessels clearly visible on her face.

Opposite her, observing the two children's banter, sat a skeleton, draped in jewellery and fine clothing that would put royalty to shame.

 

[waderer]

Ch 4

Heiden walked briskly through the dungeon.

Despite being dead as he could be, he still had perspiration forming on his forehead.

"Is it true?" he asked for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"On my lord, yes! Yes! Yes! A hundred times yes. It. Is. An. Elf Women. She summoned Dedora to help wipe out a village or something, but she, seeing as the summoner was an elf Women, broke off the contract then and there and dragged her back through the pathway," Heiden's secretary spoke, pushing up her glasses. She too sounded a bit excited.

"Is the Elf still alive?"

"Yes, Lady Achlys is keeping her isolated from the influence of the realm. She shouldn't be influenced by death for a while."

"Good, yes, very good. Finally, I can take a break!" Heiden muttered.

'Finally!! I can shift the blame if it doesn't work out.'

Heiden knew very well just how much his liege was looking forward to this day. He had to show that he did his very best. And this elf was the perfect tool and scapegoat.

They arrived before a cell. Inside was an elven woman, trembling in fright, a weeping mess, not daring to look up.

Heiden nodded to the guard beside the cell, and he opened the door.

The women trembled, crawling backward with the wall behind her back.

"P-please! Please!!! I beg you! Please let me go! I just want to return home. I won't ever dare go near a summoning circle. I-I just wanted revenge. Please!!!"

"Relax, young lady!" Heiden spoke, his voice filled with demonic charm that oozed persuasion, "we mean you no harm. If you just help us with this one task, I promise you, on behalf of the entire daemon realm, you will get your revenge. In fact, we can even help you with overthrowing the kingdom if you want."

The young elf looked up. The daemon looked terrifying to her senses, yes, but with each word he spoke, he looked less and less terrifying.

"Is- is it true?"

"I promise in the name of my lord."

"What do I have to do? Please, please don't tell me to betray my race!"

…

"Now, young lady, I want you to be honest with me,"

Hearing the first words his lord spoke, Heiden sighed in his heart.

"How do I look?"

Sela had already made up her mind to lie through her teeth and get the most terrifying instance of her life over with.

'You are the most dashing person I have ever seen, my lord.' She would say.

Looking at the skeleton wreathed in dark robes that pulsed with the aura of death, she choked back her tears and said.

"You look like the grim reaper–!!!!!" Sela, the elf, desperately covered her mouth with her trembling hands, choking back a scream of despair. She felt like her knees were giving out, but the rush of adrenaline from just now helped her stand.

"Naturally, kakaka," The skeleton cackled, closing its mouth rhythmically to imitate laughing. He continued, "Now, how would you describe my look from an elven aesthetic standpoint?"

Sela desperately clutched at her mouth, but she spoke anyway, "You look terrifying!!"

Sela wailed through her covered mouth. It was over, it was all over. She was going to end up becoming one of his undead bottomfeeders.

"Acceptable." The skeleton nodded and waved his hands and shouted, "Daisy, bring my wardrobe!"

A giant ogre, pulled a loooong bellboy trolley behind her back, setting infront of the skeleton.

The trolley was so long that Sela momentarily forgot about her damp trousers.

The skeleton nodded at the ogre and said.

"Much appreciated, Daisy. You may leave."

The Ogre dragged itself back, and the skeleton called out behind her, "On your way out, ask someone to bring Mrs. elf a set of clean clothes. Thank you, dear!"

"Now, Mrs…?"

"Sela."

"Mrs. Sela, you will be helping me choose an outfit for a meeting with a nice and beautiful elf. It should be aesthetically pleasing to–forgive my words–your kind. I don't want it to go wrong, this is a very important day in my life? You got that?"

Sela nodded.

"Now, we don't have all day, how about we hurry up?"

…

The skeleton, or as she now knew Lord Jonah, wasn't a bad person. He was kind and patient with her, unlike his subordinates, and Sela felt really at ease.

Soo at ease that, Sela asked him a question that she had in mind.

"Lord, you are such a powerful being. If you're so insecure about your skeleton form, why don't you mould yourself a body of flesh, or use magic to alter your form?" Sela looked at the changing skeleton curiously as she asked that question. Somewhere deep in her mind, her cautious self was screaming at her to stop.

"..."

Aside from the rustling of Jonah changing clothes, there was no other noise.

The yawning Heidan froze like a statue, not making a noise. Even the everpresent Breeze in the grand hall seemed to have frozen.

"A good question," Jonah begun, buttoning his shirt over his skeletal frame, "The person I'm going to meet is very special to me. And I don't want to deceive her."

The skeleton looked himself over in the mirror.

The shirt hung loosely on his ribcage, but it didn't look all that bad.

Heiden, brought over the vest and helped Jonah put it on as he continued.

"Well, I don't think I'll be able to deseive her even if I wanted to, but still. I wanna be honest with her, with who I am at the moment."

"And If, if and only if, things work out the way I think they will, I don't want myself to be caught off guard," Fully suited up, Jonah did a twirl in front of Sela, "How's this?"

"It looks magnificent on you my Lord, but…an overcoat would be nice?" Sela couldn't help but ask, "And who is this lady?"

Jonah answered, draping the overcoat over his shoulders, which promptly slid down from hsi shoulder.

"...Well, her name is Elizabeth. And she hails from the city of Autsberg. And that's all I know. I haven't been able to get in touch with my world for, well, more than nine centuries. And I'm going to be paying a lot to get back there tomorrow."
...

[A/n: It was a busy weekend. Sorry for the late update. In this chapter, I wanted to put a perspective on Jonah. I know I did a poor job of it, but trust me, I'll make it better once I start editing. And, next chapter most likely will wrap up this story.
I really should work on my descriptions, i tried reading through my writings. even I couldn't get an accurate picture of what I was rambling about!]

 

[waderer]

Ch 5

Noticing the skeleton in ornate robes sitting opposite her, Elizabeth's battle instincts honed through a millennium of battle flared.
Her drooping ears flared, the earrings gingling. Her pupils narrowed, muscles tensed, and her staff appeared in her hands.

Her clothes flared, the ever-present protective layer reinforcing itself. Her hat stirred, the numerous spirits housed in there stirring.

It all happened in an instant, and for that moment, the projection of the past overlaid on the city of Autsberg flickered, as if preparing to vanish.

The Skeleton stirred at that moment.

It didn't seem startled. With its hands still crossed, it raised one of its skeletal fingers, adorned with jewels of unimaginable powers. The world seemed to dim.

In the next instant, the flickering figure of Young Jonah and Elizabeth stabilised.

The children seemed unconcerned. Young Elizabeth still tried her best to pull Jonah out of his book, and Young Jonah still tried his damndest to stick to his spot. The cat still rolled around with his pouch of catnip, and the city outside played out like normal.

And that reminded both the skeleton and the Elf that the city, as grand as it was, was indeed only a replay of the past.

"Haah!" Elizabeth let out a breath that dispersed into the air like mist, visible to the naked eye.

It was highly saturated Mana, brimming with life. The skeleton was no stranger to it.

Elizabeth stood up.

Her staff vanished, her combat readiness seemed to vanish, and for a moment, the skeleton didn't feel the sense of creeping danger deep in his barebones spine.

For a moment, the skeleton didn't know what to do.

It too stood up, untangling its arms, only to regret it as it didn't know how to proceed. All the preparation he'd done prior with that Elf woman didn't seem to matter.

As the business came, he didn't even know where to put his damned hands!! He should've brought his staff!

"J-jonah?"

As his mind was a mess, he heard the whisper.

It was faint, as if coming from a choked person.

His cluttered mind settled down. He raised his hollow eyes to look straight at the woman opposite him.

At that moment, his mind was calm, calmer than it'd ever been in the last few years.

"Yes," he replied, "Have you seen an old woman around, young lady? I'm supposed to meet someone-"

He wasn't allowed to finish his icebreaker.

He was enveloped by the figure of a crying elf.

The had had flown off from Elizabeth's head at some point. It lay on the floor, close to the children, with spirits peeking out from it.

Jonah could see the snowy white hair on the elf, and the twitching ear, from his vantage point.

Elizabeth clung to his bony frame, her face buried in his chest. He couldn't imagine it being comfortable.

He didn't shy away, placing his hand on her back.

He felt tongue-tied.

He didn't know what to say anymore. The calmness he had felt just moments ago felt distant, yet it didn't return to the chaotic mix it was.

Mere moments had passed, yet, time seemed to stretch for both.

Elizabeth looked up from Jonah's bony chest, upward, looking at the skeletal head looking down on her, in the eyes.

Her pearly white hair clung to her snot and tears, sticking to her face. Coupled with her expression, it was a messy sight.

Yet, it reminded Jonah of their childhood. She'd always been a messy crier. It hadn't changed, just as her face hadn't changed much.

"I thought you were dead!" Elizabeth squeezed out through her breath, sniffing.

Aside from having grown taller, Elizabeth hadn't changed much. No one would mistake her for being older than twenty. Yet, her voice reminded Jonah of the years that passed. It was hoarse, a bit low.

Jonah felt himself reaching out even before he had settled his thoughts. His bony fingers traced her hair from her face, unconsciously trying to wipe away her tears.

"I kinda am."

Elizabeth sniffed once more, burying herself back into Jonah's arm.

…

Elizabeth felt the chaotic mix of energies that had mingled with her own to stabilise the mirage.

It was filthy, reeked of death, sin and chaos. However, tethering these chaotic mix of energy was a stream of mana that Elizabeth felt entirely too familiar.

She had just sensed it earlier, on the scene replayed on the library.

However, contrary to the young and vibrant mana full of life, this one felt old and withered. It still showed signs of life, yet, one could feel the unmistakable effect of time on the mana.

She unconsciously stood up.

"Jonah?" She called out.

"Yes." and Jonah answered.

That instant, Jonah face, at least what she imagined he looked like as an adult, overlapped with the skeletons. That gentle, yet analyzing gaze. That warm smile that always felt welcoming.

Her mind cleared, and she rushed forward.

Her hat, which she always had tethered to her head with mana fall off from the motion.

But she didn't care.

Maybe, in all throughout her life, it was at this moment that she was the most velnerable.

…

'Why did you never looked for me?'

This question was at the tip of the tongue of Elizabeth. She wanted to question him, she wanted to understand, she wanted know what he had experienced in his life.

Yet, she didn't ask. Now, he was here. Now, he was with her. She could ask him that anytime.

Of course she couldn't say anything about him being with her for eternity. After all, jonah was only a human. Who knows what kind of life he had experienced.

There was only silence in the library. The children were yet again back on their book. Mr. Kregils looked tidy, patrolling the library like a guard, his catnip pouch having been tucked away. Mr. Ivans was back, preparing the material for the next lecture.

Overlooking them, Jonah and Elizabeth sat on the bench. Elizabeth leaning on Jonah's shoulders.

They didn't speak, instead letting the comfortable silence and the replaying of the library playing out them.

It felt comfortable. Elizabeth felt comfortable, more than she'd ever felt in her life.

Of course she coudn't think about about having the source of her comfort by her side for eternity. Jonah looked and felt like a lich, despite having that signature of life within in his mana. And the aura of death and sin about him. She couldn't mistake it. It had something to do with the elusive daemon realm.

Who knew what kind of life he had lived. Lichs were known for their undead minions afterall.

Who knew how many undead companions–which could arguably be his taste at the moment–he had?

What promise from a thousand years ago? It was just a childish promise with no weigh–

"Have you ever married?"

Jonah's calm voice interrupted Elizabeth's chaotic thoughts, and Elizabth couldn't help herself from a chuckle.

She looked up at the skeletal head desperately trying to not look her way, and said softly. He was as blunt as ever.

"No."

She replied.

The bony head turned, and their eyes met.

"What about you?" She asked.

"Never." Jonah's voice was firm and urgent. Elizabeth felt it.

She held out her bare hands at him.

"Are you going to keep your promise?" She asked, still looking at him in the eye.

The bony hands of Jonah reached around neck, and broke off a ring tied to a golden string.

He removed the string, and looked at the ring.

Elizabeth too, looked at it.

It was an old fashioned ring, and the designs on it were something familiar to her.

"It's my mother's ring, the only thing I have left in memory of my parents."

Jonah held the ring in his palm.

"I want you to have it."

He held out his other arm, turning over Elizabeth's cold soft outstretched hands, and placed the ring on her palm.

"But, I don't want to rush you into making any decision–" Jonah couldn't complete his well thought out sentence.

Elizabeth took his hands, made it hold the ring, and she uncerimoniuosly slid it on her ring finger.

"Fuck that, you're stuck with me now, whether you like it or not."

"..."

Jonah looked down, his bony jaws opening and closing repeatedly, but no sound came out.

Elizabeth was beaming, looking at Jonah with a smile that stretched to her eyes.

At last Jonah's boney jaw's clacked together, mimicking laughter. It was an unconscious reaction. Back when he just transformed to a skeleton. He hadn't many ways to express himself. Mimicking laughter through clacking jaws was something he had done in his early days, and something that stuck around.

His hands reached out, cupping elizabeth's cheeks.

He leaned forward, his forehead touching hers.

They stayed like that for a while.

They separated, looking each other in the eye.

"Please give me a minute. I got something to take care of regarding my long time stay."

Jonah stood up, but Elizabeth held his arm.

"Is it the rat outside the city?"

Jonah nodded.

"I'm kinda infiltrating the world of the living right now, and I haven't gotten the time to get Yggdrasil's approval. I planned to do it right way, but… it didn't go the way I planned it to."

"I'll go with you. She's an unreasonable bitch despite being called the mother of all. I'll help you 'presuade' her."

They walked out of the library together.

Outside the the library door, Heiden stood guard.

Seeing as his liege and an incredibly terrifying existence walking out through the door, Heiden just wanted to keep his distance.

Yet, duty bound him, and he leaned over to his lords ears to ask.

"What should I do with the prisoners?"

Jonah looked as if he'd just remembered.

"Heiden caught these people skittering outside the city." Jonah pointed and in the ground where there was nothing before, materialized a dozen people, bound, "Do you know them? They did say they were quite influential and all. Say, do you think they'll fech anything if I ransome them? I mean, I don't have much influence in the real world, and I am bit tight on funds."

Elizabeth once again giggled.

"Yeah sure, they'll sell for a lot.'

The Emperor and his entourage. Even the God that backed the conglomerate that spanned it's influence across the entire world. And judging form the mana signature on the dozen people, they were highly specialized to counter her magic known to the world.

"That's a relief to hear."

Jonah sighed.
...
...
...

I'm hate myself for skipping the day. Now, if it was something of a substantial reason, it would've been alright. But I was just lazy. I spend the whole day on instagram. I didn't write a word. Haah!

oh, and I'm having trouble blending in the different pov's. How do people do that?!

and I'm not super satisfied with this chapter. I'm planning on adding a brief epilogue as well, so this is not the last chapter.

My thoughts are scatteded. Bie! see ya'll tomorrow!

 

[waderer]

I just read through what I wrote! Even with autocorrect... maannn! the typos. I have a lot to clean up!

This is something I used Ai to make, not exactly make, I used ai to change the head into a skeleton. It was something I found on pintrest, the original image was of Duke Long from reverend insanity.

Aaand I was having trouble imagining Elizabeth and I remembered Friren. that made things easy. Here two artworks of Friren I found on pintrest.

 

[waderer]

This is a fanfiction idea I had years ago.
A blend of MHA and Worldbuilding inspired from the world of The Perfect Run by Maxime J. Durand (Void Herald). Specifically, the New Rome.

I'm planning on writing this for now. I don't have an ending in mind as I haven't yet read the ending of MHA... sooo, I really hope I do the best.
I haven't yet started editing the short story of Jonah and Elizabeth. I'll get to it soon enough and I will be sharing it here!
and I'm late yet again. I'm not proud.
Well, see yall tomorrow.
...
The air smelled of rust and chemicals. If one smelled closely enough, one could indeed smell the rot and death; however, the chemicals released into the air by the huge factories that lined the town masked it completely.

Issac crouched close to the wall, biting his nails as he observed the surroundings.

In the narrow street lined with cramped buildings, where a car would struggle to pass through, every wall was painted with graffiti of all kind, Issac spotted many people.

Most of the people, even the children and the elderly, had gas masks on their faces, and the ones without them were coughing intermittently.

Even in his own group, Thomas, Tom and John had one. He and Marco didn't.

It was only natural, though. Issac knew full well that newcomers always got the short end of the stick.

And in their scavenger group, he and Marco were new additions.

Marco would have dibs on the next mask they'd find and after that, Issac will get to pick.

Something stirred in Issac's inner pocket. Issac looked down, placed a hand over the rag, and it calmed down.

The wait was only for a while. Before long, Thomas would be back from exchanging all the stuff they'd picked up, and they'd have enough to eat for the next few days.

It was something Issac had picked up along his days of wandering.

The food you exchanged for or buyed always tasted better than the ones found in the trash can. Illia too enjoyed it better than the trashcab food.

"Should we go in and check? He's been in there for a while now. Bet he's filling his stomach first."

Marco grumbled. Despite being a newcomer and having about the same build as himself, he was always the first to complain. Issac noted. From his experience, groups tend to ditch these kinds of people first.

And sure enough, Marco got a thwack in the head from Tom.

"Watch what you're saying numbnuts! He's in there negotiating for more food from the boss. Just you wait." Tom, the visibly bigger of the bunch, was scowling at Marco, who muttered under his breath with his head lowered.

Tom wasn't someone to defend Thomas like that. Must've been because he just hated Marco. Issac mused.

Sticking out like a sore thumb never worked in a group. Issac knew it too well.

John was silent for some reason.

Even all these distracting thoughts didn't help Isaac from feeling the rumble on his stomach.

He was getting hungrier.

Just then the door to the shop opened and Thomas walked out, with his sack hung over his shoulders and a grin on his face.

The dark spot on his face was glowing red through the cracks. Of course, he got used as cigarette lighter… again.

Issac mused and at Thomas's all of them skittered over to the back of the side of the shop, the narrow alley with barely enough space for one shared fire exit for the building, which was rusted through and through.

They couldn't let the people in the street see the food. The Hobos would no doubt take the jump on them.

"Slow down and take your share," Thomas said magnanimously.

John, fighting with Tom, got arguably the biggest share. Now, they weren't above dividing the whole sack for themselves, but, a glare from Thomas was enough for them to behave and put back two of the four loaves of hard bread each had taken.

Now the sack contained four. Issac didn't fight Marco for the bread. No, he was a law abiding gentle man. He waited for Marco to pic. And the blonde guy took out two loaves from the sack, trying to keep his head down.

Still, Marco could feel the glare Thomas was giving him. Marco wasn't as breave as he was putting a show on. In the end, he dropped one and took only one, nibbling on it and mumbling as he left.

Issac stepped forward.

He knew the rules. He only took one loaf. And Thomas didn't give them a hard time.

Of course, the two loaves left were for Thomas, but judging from how the brunett wasn't rushing to eat, Issac could guess that Thomas, indeed, had his fill in the shop.

The bread was barely as big as Tom's palm. And it tasted like wood for some reason. However, it was more than enough for Issac for the day.

With his back facing the group, issac, Nibbled on the bread. Occasionally, breaking off a piece and holding it out inside his rag.

Something always snatched it up fast, so fast that if someone wasn't paying attention, they wouldn't see the pieces disappearing.

Issac was halfway done with his bread, listening to Tom and John's cheering as they bet against two streetdogs clawing at each other, when he heard the shout and the sound of someone running.

"DITTO TURNED INTO A PSYCHO, AND HE'S ON THE LOOSE!!!!!!"

The man screamed as he ran into his own building and closed door with such strength, the dust rust accumulated on the walls formed a thick cloud.

One by one the people loitering among the streets ran. The hobos either climbed up the rusty fire ladders or hid in the sewer.

Issac and the group weren't idle either.

With Thomas in the lead, they ran toward their own dwelling, and within minutes, the makeshift door was placed, and they too sealed themselves in.

Phycos were really scary.

Issac knew it all too well.

Junky Grandpa had explained to him how Phycos came to be, along with some conspiracy theories. Issac even had the luxury of witnessing a Phyco's transformation, as Junky Grandpa himself turned.

He knew full well how scary they could be.

Issac felt his heart beating a little bit faster than normal.

John was silent, picking a spot by the window blocked nailed planks and sitting down.

However, Tom and Marco were panicky.

They were whispering, while Thomas looked out through the crack in the door at the now-empty streets.

Isaac could hear, the "whatdo we do?"s and "Can crocodiles smell Humans?" coming from the corner where Tom and Marco were discussing, but he was more interested in fiding out if his resident had eating his remaining bread.

He checked, his front facing the wall, trying to not look suspicious.

Fortunately, Illia was thoughtful. She had only sibbled on the side of his half piece of bread.

A clap turned everyones attention toward Thomas.

"Alrigth everyone, let's try our best to keep quiet until someone takes care of the Phyco. We won't be stuck here for long, and we'd better be in top shape to get back to work."

Thomas was cheerful and not at all worried.

Even Issac felt a bit reassured from his words.

Of course a group with such a leader would thrive.

It did not matter if the oldest of the group, Thomas was only 12, and it certainly did not matter if the youngest of the group, himself, was only 7.

 

[waderer]

Late again... haahhh
but I proofread the text though, there should be fewer typos.
Though, I'm not really confident in my ability to accurately spot the errors on something I just wrote.
Srry in advance.
...
It was a quiet afternoon.

The streets were quiet, the lights were dim. It was relaxing, not having to constantly hear the junkies cursing each other or fighting each other.

No matter the side effects, bliss did indeed grant a temporary boost to quirks.

It was always nerve-racking to see enhanced quirk users fighting in front of your house.

Now, something even more dangerous was walking around in the neighbourhood. But, there was only one Phyco. They would be safe.

Of course, as long as they didn't step out of their hiding spot and invite the monster here.

Issac lay on the hardwood floor, close to the rotten part of the floor, his back facing the group. Aside from being vulnerable to ambushes from the back, it was a position Issac found comfortable. He could feed Iliya without showing her to the group.

After all, around these parts, rat meat was considered a delicacy.

Marco was practically begging Tom to give him a share of his bread, and Thomas was still keeping an eye on the outside.

John was stocking the fire in the fireplace that miraculously stood in shape.

Issac gave Illia a bite of the bread that he had, and took one bite himself.

He curled himself on the hardwood floor, trying to catch some sleep.

It was going to be a long night.

Issac was quite sure the Ditto would be dealt with before morning.

After all, those people wouldn't be able to sell their bliss with a psyco on the loose in the neighbourhood.

…

"Do you think he's been dealt?" Marco asked, peeking out from the gap in the planks nailed into the window.

"Most likely. That's how it always is, right?" Tom looked at Thomas.

Thomas had a frown on his face, looking out the door crack, trying to get a look from another angle.

"..." Issac just sat there in the corner, his legs outstretched, his feet closing and opening like he was playing peekaboo with himself.

And John didn't have anything to say either. He was busy stocking the fire to boil the water.

Thomas dared to even move the hingless door to peek at the outside, but quickly put it back and secured it like before.

Tom and Marco both were equally frightened by the action. They looked at Thomas with bated breath, waiting for his reaction.

But the boy still looked in thought.

Marco, impatient, asked, "Is the psycho outside?"

"No," Thomas shook his head.

"Doesn't that mean we can go outside?" Thomas asked with expectation.

"No, it's suspicious," Thomas shook his head.

"Come on, it's been this long. Surely, they would've dealt with the monster by now." Marco was really hungry, and he really wanted to go out! He was sure neither Tom nor John would be giving him any of their bread. And he wasn't sure if he could survive on rust-flavoured water alone.

Thomas once again shook his head, "No, if it's been dealt with, someone should be on the street by now, and they should be shouting about it. When I looked just now, no one was outside. It's suspicious. We'd better wait a while."

"..."

"..."

"..." Issac nodded with the statement. It was the wise decision.

They waited a while, and before long, it was noon.

Marco's stomach was now making noises that echoed through the cabin.

The fire had died out, but there was plenty of rust-favoured water.

Tom's bread had run out. And Thomas still used half his time to monitor the street.

There was no news, and not much sound.

Well, aside from the shouting coming from the building across the street.

Issac was starting to get hungry as well. He did have a quarter piece of the bread, but he decided to hold onto it, just in case.

He stood up, walked over to the iron bucket, now only half filled with slightly brown water.

It was boiled, so of course, it should be safe.

It really tasted of rust, though.

But who was he to complain? This was one of the few abandoned buildings with semi-working plumbing that weren't occupied by scary-looking hobos.

Of course, the faucets didn't work, but from where the pipe broke off by the wall, it still pumped water. It was controlled with a stick and a piece of a tyre tube.

As he drank his share of water, the sound of the door being opened violently came from across the street.

Everyone's attention focused there, and Issac took the opportunity to have Illia drink the water.

The stoat wasn't exactly a fan of rust water, as evidenced by sticking out its tongue in protest. But she was thirsty, and this was a better opportunity than waiting for the kids to sleep, so she could sneak off and drink.

Issac too rushed to see what was happening outside. He played a game of shoving with Marco and secured his viewing spot.

"You know what? Fuck you bastards, FUKKK YOUUU! Who needs a place to sleep anyway? See? I can sleep in the middle of the street if I wan to! Haah? What? You gonna kick me out oh 'ere too? huh?"

Someone, most probably a hobo, was in the street, smoking something, flipping off the building and lying down on the scalding road in protest.

Once the tar started burning his back, he did get up, though.

He even pulled down his pants and shook it at the building.

The building opposite had its doors closed, but some people were indeed looking out the window.

"There's no fucking Psyco here! Hah! Lunatics… I'll see what I can do with you bastards in a few days! Haah, WHo do ya'll fucking think you a—"

The Man couldn't really finish his rant, though, as the crocodile's mouth clamped over his head, tackled him to the ground and rolled, ripping out his head.

Several gasps rang out from beside Issac as all this happened. But Issac had his mouth tightly clamped down, holding back any sound his mouth wanted to make.

At that moment, the humanoid crocodile looked over in their direction. And Issac felt all the water he had drunk earlier waiting to rush out. But he held it in.

Not Marco, though.

At least everyone was sensible enough to clamp their mouth shut.

The Psyco took the severed head in his hand, holding it over his mouth clumsily, drinking the blood greedily.

Right, Qurik users' blood indeed gave them some kind of reprieve.

Followed was one of the most gruesome sights Issac had seen in his entire life.

But he didn't look away; he avoided looking directly; however, he maintained the figure of the crocodile man in the corner of his eye.

He needed to be ready escape if the psyco decided to come over to their spot.

It was a matter of survival.

Everyone in the group looked on the verge of vomiting, but there wasn't much in most of their stomach other than bile and some water.

And most importantly, they had survived in the junkyard all these years.

No one shied away. Each one of them was ready to make their escape, somewhere, somehow.

Survival was an instinct engraved into the children of the junkyard and, it didn't indeed, fail them in such a critical moment.

 

[waderer]

Guess what?! I'm not late today... well, maybe by a few hours, but it's not like we have an established schedule or anything. hahah!
...
It rained heavily in the afternoon.

Even as he lay close to the fireplace, Marco couldn't sleep.

The constant dripping of water from a hole in the roof was only one reason. He was pretty shaken from the incident.

Even as he closed his eyes and started counting sheep, the sound of bones crunching and sinew tearing seemed to echo through his ears.

He could imagine what could've happened to him had he been caught by that psyco. And he didn't know if he'd get a quick death like the hobo.

After a bout of tossing and turning, he got up, walked over to the rotten hole in the floor, to the side of the cabin. Nature called him, and he wasn't brave enough to get out do his business there.

Issac, the quiet kid, was now sleeping much closer to the fire.

Marco didn't know how the bastard was sleeping so soundly after staring wide-eyed at all that happened today.

He even wanted to kick the bastard, just to vent his frustration.

But Marco held his leg. Despite being the youngest of the group and the smallest, the kid was physically as strong as Thomas, the oldest in the group.

He could carry a sack full of metal scraps alone, and he didn't complain much. It was the only reason such a young kid was accepted into their group.

At that moment, Marco's bigger-than-average ear twitched, picking up a rustling sound from Issac. He looked over and caught a movement in the kids rags.

Marco instinctively took a step back.

Maybe it was a snake?

A moment later, a white head poked it's head out of the rag, snuggling it against Issac.

Issac stirred and patted the head, and the rat-looking creature went back inside the rag. It didn't stir after that, no matter how long Marco kept looking.

'So that's what he's been hiding? A rat? I thought he had bread in stock.'

Marco realised something. He shrugged, went back to his place beside the fireplace, kicked Tom's hand aside from his spot and curled up, trying to catch sleep.

…

The next day was about the same, the remains of the hobo was washed away by the rain and dogs who had wandered in.

The streets well still empty, and there was still no news.

Isacs had eaten the last piece of his bread, and his stomach too started making noises he wasn't entirely comfortable with.

Marco seemed to be reckless, Thomas was still keeping an eye on the outside, Tom seem to have started biring his nails and picking his scabs, even the usually aloof John seemed to be aloof.

It was understandable. If the Psyco wasn't dealt with by today, they'd have to start taking risks.

Issac lay on the ground, trying to minimize his movement as to not drain his strength.

His thoughts wandered.

Why was he being so passive. He wasn't used to being like this. If he wanted food, he'd go out and forage, even if Dynamis's dogs were out there looking for him.

He guessed he'd gotten more used to being in a group, and not having to constantly run from danger? Well, this situation wasn't exactly the best example. But it really was easy in a group.

The midday sun bore down on the world with no mercy, making the town humid.

Issac, who was laying still to preserve his energ, fell asleep.

The cabin was quite the street was quite. Even the building opposite wasn't making much noise anymore.

…

Marco was clutching his stomach. He was hungry, he was so hungry he felt like he could do anything.

He crawled over to Tom's side and whispered.

…

Issac liked sleeping, only if he was really exhausted though. Form his experience, that helped him stave off much of the nightmares that assaulted his mind.

Nightmare wasn't the most disturbing dream one could have. Issac had realised this ages ago. The most disturbing dreams were recountings of the past.

Those dreams always left him a bit moody, his heart would race faster for hours, he would be prone to using his quirk, and most importantly, it made Illya stay quite.

Issac didn't like that.

He liked the lively Illya.

The Illaya who would always jump up and down on his shoulders, the Illya who would always snuggle close to him in his rag.

Today was one of those days where he dreamed of that cottage.

His mother and father were there, chatting and laughing by the well.

He and Illya were playing.

It was the deam of a happy evening.

Yet, Issac felt his heart beating rapidly. He felt himself sweating, he felt the world grow blood red around him.

His chest stung, and at that pain.

His eyes opened with a gasp.

Illya was clawing at him. It was their signal. They were in danger. His mind whirled, yet, his body was sluggish.

He'd been practically starving for two days, of course his body would be weak.

Before his body could react, he was pried onto feet, as Tom and John hoisted him by armpit, their hands holding his arms tightly.

Marco started feeling his rugs, and Illia rand around his body.

"W-waht are you doing?!!" Issac screamed, his words coming out sluggish. He was staring at Marco, with enough intensity to bore a hole through his body.

Marco, felt himself shiver, yet, with newfound strength rushing from his head down. He rummaged.

"We know you've been keeping a rat! Where is it!!" It was Tom who had asked. Holding Issac down with even grater force.

There was a high pitch note to the boy's voice. He seemed to be using his quirk.

Issac struggled, trying to shake of the boys holding him. It was futile. Even swinging his legs hadn't worked.

Whether by the virtue of being bigger than Issac, or by the sheer prospect of being able to put something in their stomach after days, the boys held on tightly to Issac.

"Let go of me!!"

Issac screamed, he looked at thomas who was still keeping an eye on the outside, "Thomas! Tell them to let go of me! You don't want to do this. Just let me go, and I'll never come back. Please!"

He pleaded.

Thomas shook his head, looked back at Issac, "Just let go of that thing. I'll find you a new one once we're out of this shithole."

He gesteured toward john, and the boy clamped his hand on Issac's mouth before he could scream once more.

"Aha!" Marco had got his hands on Illia. The rat was much bigger than he was used to seeing.

Illia squealed, struggling in Marco's hands.

Issac eyed welled up.

This was a group he'd found himself comfortable after searching for long. So this was how it all came to an end.

Marco, grinning was about to slam the rat against the floor, when it bit him had on the hand, twisting it's body in an odd angle.

"Arrghh!!" Marco screamed and let go of the what he thought was a rat.

His eyes instinctively looked for Tom, only to see the boy crashing through the air as he impacted the hardwood wall of the shack. Marco closed his eyes instinctively, waiting for the building to fall on thier head. After all, this was the part of town were even homeless wouldn't squat lest the building fell on their head.

 

[waderer]

late again /_ \. Oh well.... seeya tomorrow!
...
...

Hunger could always delude the minds of humans. It was one of the fundamental weakness of any living being. Evan the most rational of adults would cave into their primal urges when faced with extreme hunger and stress.

Let alone children, who had survived in the hellscape known as rust town by scavenging.

That said, the children didn't have the intention of doing anything to Issac himself. They were even willing give him his portion. This wasn't action born of malice, but pure survival.

Issac's quirk activated, and strength surged through his arm.

He could feel the impending weakness about to wash over him. For now, though, this was enough.

He broke free from Tom's grip and pushed him so hard he feared he'd broken a few of his ribs.

"Wha–," John was startled by the sudden burst of strength Isaac had shown. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Isaac swept John's feet with his leg, making the older boy fall on his back.

With a swift motion, Issac's palm touched John's face. The older boy tried to struggle his quirk unconsciously activating and his hair standing on end. He griped Isaac's arms to pry it from his face. But it proved futile. For every second Issac's hand remained on John's face, Issac's grip became stronger.

And in a mere few seconds, the strength in John's hand diminished, and he fell unconscious.

The boy was looking more malnourished than before.

They had all run out of food the other day. Although everyone was well hydrated, water alone couldn't help anyone survive.

And in this moment, that worked in Issac's favour.

He felt himself reinvigorated, his reserves barely recovering, his eyes that were dimming with every second passed, regaining most of it's luster.

The other boys weren't letting him do all this without intervening, though.

Thomas, who was startled by the sudden change of events, quickly regained his senses. What felt like a thousand questions ran through his mind, yet, he acted.

Picking up the broken piece of table leg he'd been using as his weapon, he charged at Issac, swinging with a wide arc, right at Issac's face.

Issac had seen it coming.

He backtracked, avoiding Thomas's swing and pushed out with a kick.

The sole of his feet landed right on Thomas's back, while he was still in motion and unbalanced. The thrust sent him backwards, crashing into a pile of broken furniture they were using as firewood.

Meanwhile, Illia, who had freed herself from Marco's hand, had used his distraction to climb back on him, clawing at his face and neck. Marco was screaming frantically, trying to get the stoat off his face, whipping out his arms.

But the stoat showed how agile she was. She didn't forget to bite the boy on his abnormally large ears.

Issac didn't wait around after kicking away Thomas, he used the brief window to dash over to the unconscious Tom and placed his hand on his exposed skin.

Issac had gone back to his normal reserves of energy after absorbing vitality from John. Now, after absorbing from Tom as well, he felt power surging through him.

He felt like he could pick up Thomas and throw him at least ten feet across.

"Huufff"" He let out a breath, and it was full of energy.

Isaac's previous appearance, that of a malnourished boy with the silhouette of his bones sticking out, had changed. While still grimy and dirty, he now barely looked like one of those well-nourished kids from the inner city.

Thomas had risen himself from the rubble, his back throbbing in pain, his table leg having been kicked away. He picked up one of the pieces of wood from the pile, ready to swing it at Issac.

Issac was busy making sure Illia was alright. And sure enough, she was alright. She was nibbling on what looked like a piece of flesh, and Marco was rolling on the floor, screaming, clutching his ear, his face covered in scratches and blood.

Issac sucked in a breath. It was clear that Illia had bitten off a piece of Marco's ear.

While Issac felt Marco deserved it, considering how he wanted to eat his Illia for dinner. Still he'd have to correct her behaviour. Who knew when she would bite off his own flesh if this kept up?

His thoughts didn't hinder him from dodging Thomas's swing, though.

While Thomas was still off balance from his swing, Issac put some distance between them, nearly tumbling on John's unconscious body.

While Issac had incredible senses, he didn't have an eye on the back of his head.

Issac looked at Thomas after steadying himself.

"I don't want to fight you, just move aside and let me leave," Issac stated, his voice brimming with life.

"..." Thomas remained silent. Once the fight had broken out, he hadn't spoken much.

Thomas felt like doing what Issac told would be a logical choice.

As long as Issac wasn't lying, he could just move to a corner and let the younger child leave. And Thomas didn't feel like he was lying.

Yet, his grip on the makeshift bat tightened, and he asked Issac with gritted teeth.

"What did you do to my friends?"

"They are still alive," Issac said calmly, "They'll wake up after a while."

Thomas looked, and indeed, he noticed it. Their chests were still rising up and down rhythmically, and Tom was even starting to snore.

Yet, Thomas didn't let go of the piece of wood in his hand.

"Fuck you!" He screamed, throwing the piece of wood at Isaac and charging in himself.

Now, as long as Issac dodged the wood, he would be able to tackle the bastard to the ground and use his quirk.

He'd at least injure the bastard.

His charred forehead glowed red hot, and the sensation of his quirk working gave Thomas all the courage he needed.

But, Issac didn't move, he swatted the piece of wood with his hand, calmly tracking Thomas's movement.

Once Thomas was close to tackling him, he dodged to the side, thrusting with his leg once again at Thomas'sback.

Thomas fell on John, headfirst, his red hot forehead burning a hole through John's rag and burning the boy.

"Arrgh," John woke up screaming, his hands swatting away the burned pieces of clothing from his chest. Yet, his scream was weak.

Issac felt the urge to take some life out of Thomas as well.

No.

He sighed and walked toward the door, giving a kick to Marco as the white stoat climbed up his rag.

"She's not a rat you bastard," Issac screamed at Marco, through his kicking, "She's a stoat! And they eat Rats!!!!!"

Issac looked back, and after Thomas wasn't trying to do anything funny, he opened the door and walked out, his hands stroking the soft fur on Illia.

 

[waderer]

Guys! it's been ten days since I started! I feel like crying! w(ﾟДﾟ)w
...
..

…

Issac tried his damn best not to look at the mauled remains of the homeless littered across the street and walked. It had been a day, and even with the rain washing away most of the blood, the humid environment was making the remains smell.
"Illia? Are you hurt?" Issac asked, gently caressing Illia, who was looking over his shoulder, covering his back.

The stoat let out a squeak and rubbed against his ears.

Issac smiled and leaned his head closer to the stoat.

Illia was alright, and that was what mattered to Issac the most.

Isaac's quirk was quite simple; it let him absorb life from other living beings and manipulate it to strengthen himself.

As far as he understood, his palm needed to be touching exposed skin for him to absorb life.

Back there at the cabin, he had manipulated the scant amount of life he himself had to momentarily strengthen himself and tackle Tom and John.

Issac was still mentally sighing.

Manipulating his own life while he didn't have a surplus was a bit risky. If he kept it up for more than a few seconds, he could go unconscious or potentially die.

Although he awakened his quirk the moment he was born, he still struggled with control.

"Where do we go now?"

Issac asked Illia. But it was more of a question for himself. Where was he to go now? It hasn't been that long since he joined Thomas' gang.

It was one of the nicest groups he had been with since, well, he had to leave his home. They never beat him for no reason, and there was not much cursing. All in all, it was a pretty good deal for Issac.

"I heard there was an orphanage somewhere around the north of the city? Maybe we should go there? Where's north though?"

The town still smelled of rust and chemicals. There was an undertone of wet wood and rot, but the smell of rust still overpowered anything else, even the smell of blood.

At that moment, Illya clawed at his shoulder. It was their signal.

Issac looked back, and in the next second, bolted, hiding in the gap between two buildings.

He had already walked past their shack and another building. Now he was wedged between two buildings, closer to the junction. There was a distance of less than ten meters between him and the old shack.

With the courage he somehow mustered, he looked back.

Ditto, the local junkie who had turned into a psyco was now strolling down the street, one of his crocodile arms hanging loose to the side, dripping blood along his exposed flesh and blood.

The man, no, the monster, seemed to have holes throughout his body and was dripping a buttload of blood with everystep, yet the thing walked, looking like it won't die soon.

Issac looked back at the shack they had been huddling in all this time. The makeshift door, which didn't even have hinges, was still lying on the floor.

They hadn't yet had the time to fix it back up, as Isaac wasn't exactly the kindest when he walked out.

…

Thomas's mind was a chaotic swirl. It had all happened fast.

Thomas had always known Issac was hiding something, something alive. The kid was clumsy at best when it came to discretion.

When Tom said Issac was hiding a pet rat, he believed him. Although… he wasn't sure if rats had fluffy tails.

By Marco's account, though, it did seem to look like a rat. Rat it was then. Who cared.

He had given them the green card to act.

Thomas still had some jerky he had bought lined in his inner pocket. He would have hated to share it with his group. If a rat could solve the problem, all the better.

But what happened exceeded everything in his expectations.

Sure, Issac was strong; they knew from all the scavenging and dumpster diving trips they had conducted. The kid could carry as much as he himself could with ease, and that was part of the reason someone so young stuck around.

Yet, they haven't thought him to be so strong as to instantly knock out Tom.

Thomas wasn't sure if he could free himself if he were held by John and Tom like that.

It was an uncomfortable feeling in the underbelly.

Of course, they had accounted for the possibility of Issac having a quirk.

But most of the people in their business never had a useful quirk.

He himself had a quirk that was now dubbed among the community as a cigarette lighter. Maybe his lighting the cigarette of that old bastard downtown, whenever they met, may have served to give him that title.

Marco. He had a quirk that made his ears bigger than usual. It gave him a slight advantage in hearing.

John. His quirk made his hair stand on end. And it would go back to its curly self the moment someone touched it.

Tom didn't even have one.

They had quirks, yes. But they were the most useless of all.

Anyone with a quirk of any power or versatility would be whisked away by the major gangs or even New Rome itself.

Someone like that had no place among them.

There was no way in hell Issac could be so strong.

How come Issac could afford to be so strong? And Why was he so angered by Issac's power?

Why was he soo weak as to lose to a child barely 7?

Thomas didn't know what to do with John's burn.

"It'll be fine," he said to the hissing bastard, and walked over to the now wide-open door.

He didn't even look at Marco, who was still lying on the ground, curled up, crying.

Thomas absent-mindedly stepped outside, intending to pick the door up and place it back.

He heard a footstep.

He looked to his left, his empty mind once again whirling.

Is it Issac? What more does that bastar—no. Issac went right.

And there it was, the horror they were avoiding for the last few days.

The twitch of that homeless man's headless body was till fresh in thomas' mind.

His body acted on it's own, taking a step back with a gasp.

But his mind desperately held it back.

He needed to fix the door for any chance of survival.

Thomas lifted the door, but, having seen the human, the limping Psyco, who was limping all this time, seemed to have regained his vitality. It charged, kicking in the door Thomas was desperately trying to fix.

Thomas crashed onto the floor, half his frame under the door.

It was too late.

John, having seen the psyco's frame, screamed and peddled back, having forgotten his burn. He was trying to used to the hole in the flooring they were using as their latrine to get away.

Marco just curled in on himself, too afraid to even move. Tom was still unconscious.

Thomas looked at the psyco in despair.

Fuck that Issac bastard! If Only—

Ditto, the crocodile man took half a step into the shack. The psyco's breathing was laboured, and his tongue even hung loosely like that of a dog. Yet, the man had a crazy look in his eyes that promised suffering.

And the next second, he was send hurltling, his body crashing through the wooden shack, splinters flying, blood splattering.

In his place stood Issac, his breathing heavy, his pupils dilated. And the next second, he too seemed to vanish.

…

A/n: I'm severely lacking in the dialogue department. Any tips?

 

[Despacitoleo]

A/n: I'm severely lacking in the dialogue department. Any tips?

Click to shrink...

read novels like worm or other media and look at how they talk

thats what I did/try to act out the scene and convert it to words

not quite as good lol but thats me

 

[Zerak]

What's the synopsis for the story? Both the name and the synopsis is just you saying you will write every day.

 

[waderer]

It wasn't easy sending a man three times his size flying. Well, he did spend more than 50% of the life he'd confiscated from the boys in that shoulder ram; it was a given that even a rather large adult would be sent flying.

Issac's whole body hurt, and his shoulder especially. It felt like he would be standing with a tilt for a while, yet, Issac was satisfied.

He had distanced the psyco from the shack. Well, the strike had broken the shack's doorframe and the support beam holding up the shade, but it worked out.

I just have to seize the moment!

Issac cheered himself up, picking up the broken log of the beam and rushing toward the psyco, who was struggling to get up.

The left hand of the reptilian was already hanging loose to the side, only attached to a bit of flesh. It seemed the hand had grazed the doorframe while the man was sent flying. His left hand was left on the ground, quietly oozing blood from all its wounds.

That said, the psycho didn't seem a bit bothered by the missing arm; it had noticed Issac charging and bared its teeth at him, trying to get up, only for Issac to slam the piece of beam at its snout.

The wood splintered, and a part of it broke off, but the psycho was once again on the ground.

The open wounds on the snout, which were already dripping blood, widened even more, and the psycho let out a guttural roar of some kind.

It wasn't enough to rattle Issac, and he kept on striking the psyco with the wooden beam, not letting the one-armed man get up.

But he was a bit too close to the psycho. The man, in a moment of clarity, raised his reptilian foot, which had toes with creepy nails sticking out of his torn boots, and kicked Issac away.

Issac wasn't bracing himself and was sent crashing back, landing on the pavement on his back.

He gasped; he was a bit winded, but he was fine overall.

He rolled over and got up, but the psycho was quick on its feet. It was already charging at Issac, with his one remaining right arm raised, its nails looking long, hard, and sharp.

Issac's weapon, the wooden beam, was knocked over by the psycho's kick, and he didn't have the time to get it back.

He waited for the psyco to close in on him a little, and using his enhanced body, dodged to the side and rushed forward with enough speed for the average man to only see a blur.

The psyco, with its dull mind, didn't react fast enough; it was still charging forward, it's hands raised and ready to strike.

Issac grasped the arm of the psyco, and using his monumentum, using a significant amount of life he had left in reserve.

Now, the psycho's momentum was against him, and Issac's yank was damn hard.

The psyco's arm snapped at the elbow, and the man himself was yanked back, falling to the side, face-first.

Issac had used the momentum and the man's broken elbow to swing onto the man's back, pinning him to the ground, his arm on the man's neck, using his quirk in full output to absorb the man's life.

An adult had a lot more life than children, and it was going to take him quite a few seconds to eliminate the man completely.

…

"Are you seeing this, Connor?" A man, wearing a conspicuous red leather jacket, perched on top of a roof, filmed Issac as he absolutely pummeled the psyco into the ground.

[Damned, I'll be,] A voice came from the other side of the phone, [How old is that wean?]

"Wee? What? You can go to jail for less, y'know." The man said, jumping onto the roof of another smaller building closer to where Issac, all the while holding the camera steady at the fight.

[Seriously now? You think this is the time to mock my accent? Have you any info on the kid or not?]

"C'mmon, don't take it seriously!"

"About that Kid…I seem to have an impression…" The man jumped down from the roof, landing on the ground without making much noise. "Whoa! Would you look at that, it's little Thomas!"

Now that the man was on the ground, the shade of the shack no longer hid Thomas, who was peeking from the shack at the fight. The man pointed his phone camera at him and zoomed.

[Thomas, who?]

"Y'know, the Kid I talked about the other day,"

[Ah, the one with the charred forehead, Cigarette Lighter. And?]

"'The Cigarette Lighter' anyway, the kid who is fighting the psyco right now is from his group. I don't know the name, but he should be the youngest. Should be about 7. And that lad hadn't been with them for long"

Issac had now broken the psyco's elbow, and had planted himself on the man's back.

[That's a strange way of fighting, so it is. That quirk of his isn't just enhanced strength, I'd say.]

"It is, I should be able to get some information out of Thomas. So what do you say, we bring him in?"

[Of course,] the voice from the phone now sounded a bit contemplative, [No hesitation, ruthless even with himself… he'd make a good dog if I trained him properl—]

The man's voice cut short as the psyco's flailing legs now went limp, and his form slowly but surely withered.

[Listen well Luca,] The voice of the man from the opposite side of the phone now sounded serious, fully forgoing the previous nonchalant attitude, even his irish accent had disappeared, [You must bring that kid with you, whatever you do, he just has to be alive.]

Luca swallowed, his boss usually wasn't so serious. "What am I dealing with here?"

[You remember the Blood Baroness?]

"Asking the obvious?"

[That witch had a child who managed to escape when The Living Sun and Dynamis surrounded their village.

[There's word that Dynamis has been looking for him. Now, if my eyes aren't deceiving me, that child is using lifsteal, the signature ability of The Blood Baroness. Look at our withered old Ditty! Look at our withered old Ditty there. If it's true, Luca, we're gonna have a lot more influence in New Rome. Now be a good chap and bring him in one piece.]

Luca was spirited. Conners voice suggested that he'll be rewarded handsomely once the deed was done.

Who would've thought the plain old job of dealing with a psyco would end up becoming so rewarding?

…

Two minutes later, Luca lay on his own blood, his revolver to the side, its nozzle bent, a dozen or so bullet casings lying around him, his chest caved in, his breathing raspy and laboured.

Fortunately for him, Issac wasn't in the mood to feel more alive.

...

[A/n: well, I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter, there are a lot of details to add in. and I feel like the chapter isn't flowing that well.
anyway, I'm late cause I got sidetracked by watching Derry Girls. I saw this one reel of Sister Michaels' highlights, and I knew I at least had to watch one episode. Now, three seasons in, that northern Irish accent just isn't getting out of my head. Even my thoughts became Irish!!! can you believe that??!!! I just had to put it into words. I deeply apologise if I've offended anyone with this. ;_;]

 

[waderer]

What's the synopsis for the story? Both the name and the synopsis is just you saying you will write every day.

Click to shrink...

Apologies for the confusion, this is less a story and more a, idk, something I put my daily writings in. I'll update the synopsis, with more details on what I'm writing.