My (soon to be) girls weeks fics! Just one for now but I wanna get back to these eventually.
"I assure you, Lady Kurara, the reach and sharpness of a sword is more than enough to compensate for the sheer strength of a bullet! So says the Holy Jumonji Sword!"
"I didn't ask what your sword thinks, stupid! I asked what you think!"
"Oh... well, in that case, I heartily agree with her judgment!"
"Her judgement's the worst! Come on, pull that sword out already and let me show you!"
"No... anything but that!"
"If a gun's the inferior choice, then she's got nothing to be afraid of, right? Right?"
"Kurara? Kyoshika?"
Nozomi had stayed on the other side of the gym door, listening to the two girls arguing on and on about weapons. Honestly, she wondered what they were arguing about in the first place. Was it that important, figuring out whether a gun or a sword was objectively better?
If Nozomi had to give her opinion…
“Wouldn’t a gun be better? You can hit your opponent from farther away—unless they have throwing knives and good aim, the bullet’s more likely to incapacitate.”
Kyoshika gasped, hand to her heart as she stumbled back. Nozomi should’ve felt guilty for dealing the mortal blow, but… “Lady Nozomi! This betrayal!?”
There was something cute about how easy it was to break Kyoshika. The way the other girl collapsed to the floor as if their words had become a bullet to bring the swordswoman’s end upon her. Kyoshika murmured something, cuddling the Holy Jumonji Sword and whispering sweet nothings towards it such as: “I won’t let them wound your pride”, and “those guns lack the righteous justice of a finely-sharpened blade!”
“Hmph!” Kurara planted her hands on her lips, looking down. She kicked Kyoshika in the side. “Instead of acting all pathetic, at least try and give us a good argument! C’mon, stop blubbering and argue!”
“Huuuhhhh… nhhhaaaaaa…” Kyoshika moaned, the absolute last noise you’d want to hear when kicking someone.
Nozomi knelt down and put a hand on Kyoshika’s shoulder. “There, there. I’m sure you can tell us about all of the Holy Jumonji Sword’s cool points. Can’t you?”
A few pathetic whimpers leaked out. Big, pathetic eyes met Nozomi’s, enough to capture any girl’s heart. “I… can.”
“Of course you can. You’re like—one of those manga protagonists,” not that she know much about those beyond scant details of the most popular ones of the year, “you don’t let anything keep you down. Even if other people don’t understand what you like.”
Maybe she should’ve read the volume Kyoshika lent her. Then Nozomi could’ve come up with something better—something that might actually help her.
Instead…
Ah, having friends was so difficult. She didn’t mean to make things worse. If she tried to understand her before entering this argument, then maybe—
“Stop looking so pathetic.”
Someone gripped the fabric of her back. Kurara’s hand trembled, but she tightened her fist and hid her weakness before she spoke again. “Let me take care of this.”
Nozomi did nothing, letting Kurara step in front of her. She took a deep breath, raised her hand…
And nearly caved Kyoshika’s skull in with the chop she delivered.
“Get a hold of yourself! Can’t you see you’re making Nozomi cry!?”
“Waaaahhh! I’m sorry, Lady Nozomi! I’m extraordinarily, deeply sorry!”
“Hey!”
Nozomi jumped, prying Kurara off of Kyoshika before she shook the other girl so bad her brain blended and oozed out of her ear like a strawberry smoothie. “I think I’m the one who needs to apologize,” Nozomi said, hand to her heart. “I jumped in on your argument without really thinking. Besides, I think there’s merit to all kinds of weapons! The way we fight, the tools we use to win, everything we are informs our choices. Kurara relies on turrets because she’s amazing at building weaponry on the fly, while I use guns because—it’s what I’m given. But you dual wield swords like you were born to do so, Kyoshika.”
A loud sniff. Kyoshika wiped away a glob of snot with her sleeve (Nozomi tried not to stare at the stain it left behind, making a mental note to teach the girl some more manners). “You—you really think so? Though, I have to say…”
With a laugh, she crossed her arms. “My skills were not swaddled beside me, but were honed through years of training! I daresay I dedicated all my life towards this single pursuit! If any of you were better than I, then I’d need to end my life from the shame.”
“Please don’t kill yourself,” Nozomi said.
“Fare not, Nozomi,” Kyoshika said. “I intend to live a long and happy life besides.”
Kurara scoffed. “You better not die on us. I’ll throw your manga collection in the shredder if you do.”
“Nay, anything but that!”
“Anyways,” Kurara said, “we’re over that now? We work with what we want, both are good in their own ways and—you get the idea. I still think a sword’s worthless against someone with a gun and some aim, but I’d rather not deal with Kyoshika’s blubbering all day.”
Tears pricked at the corners of Kyoshika’s eyes. Kurara gave her a firm glare before she dared to cry again.
For a moment, it seemed like the excitement of the day had calmed down at last. Finally, they’d get to training once Moko and Yugamu showed up, and everything would be as it was supposed to.
Everything…
“You know,” Kurara said, “where did you learn to shoot?”
Nozomi froze. A memory came to mind.
One of a mother, and a daughter.
One of a girl with wires stuck all over her body, a weapon in hand as something pulsed through her veins not her own. The young girl raised her gun and fired, calling upon this power.
She’d collapse, as she always did, but no one could fault the little girl for trying. She spent every day trying.
Every hour, every minute, every second.
Nozomi never wanted to fight. She was doing this because she had to, because it was the dream of that little girl, the dream of her mother—one and the same.
Now, Nozomi Kirifuji.
Where did you learn to shoot?
“Um,” Nozomi stuttered. “…I played with dart guns a lot as a child.”
Kurara laughed, gleeful smile crossing her mask. “Really? Didn’t take you as the type. Little Nozomi and her plastic dart gun… that’s kind of precious.”
They all laughed, and all was well, for now. For today.