In a universe where she’s been accustomed enough to near death experiences to take another potential near death experience in stride (or even, actual death this time), Nayoung continues to gobble on her lunchbox, ignoring Eunwoo’s futile pleas to God.

The girl in question has been idly walking from one corner to another as she furiously makes hand gestures to accentuate her furious rant. “ – I just want to do well on my midterms this time, god, I busted my written test and I thought I could save my hopeless through the practical exam but noooo, I just had to be paired up with someone virtually useless at anything that isn’t running away and we’ll be up against – oh my god – TWO of THE academy’s aces!”

When Eunwoo stops dead on her track to glare at her, Nayoung offers her a bite of the deep fried octopus-shaped sausage.

“What I need isn’t calories,” Eunwoo stomps towards her seated figure, “what I need is a future! I’m too young to die!”

“Chill, would you? Nobody’s going to kill anybody in practical exams.” Nayoung swallows the remainder of her bites before she marches on. “The teachers are there to stop people from making headlines.”

“Yeaaaah but we’re up against Ki Heehyun and Kim Chungha.”

Nayoung an eyebrow as Eunwoo claws on her own face. “It’s our second year and Heehyun hasn’t dumped anyone’s body into the lake. At least to my knowledge.”

“No, but she hates you, and you’re my partner for this exam, and she might accidentally off your head, and I might be in her line of fire. I might die.”

Eunwoo’s standing, so she has to crane her neck up to meet the girl’s death stare. Nayoung replies with one of her own. “You’re hot,” Nayoung gives Eunwoo’s party-sized bazoongas a 0.1 second stare, “so she’ll let you off.”

“Okay, so I’m hot, thus she’ll let me off the hook. What about you?”

What about me? It takes her a nanosecond of mulling to arrive in the only possible answer, as she lowers her gaze to her halfway finished lunchbox. “Listen. I won’t. You won’t. Heehyun’s not gonna sink her fangs on anybody because we’re gonna kick her doggy first.” She wags her chopsticks to Eunwoo’s slackening jaw. “Fear no doggo.”

At first it looks like Eunwoo’s going to retort a dissertation, but she merely clams up and, instead, pulls another chair by Nayoung’s side and sits there. “You’re sorta weird today, I mean, you’ve always been kinda nutty in the head, but what’s pushing you today?”

Things happened. Midterms to be exact. Exam weeks in Illiad Academy have always been the things she dreads the most, with its mind-bogglingly difficult written test and its tag-team duel that could either be a friendly punch between fellow trainee heroes OR a death match that might involve actual funeral parlor.  The one Nayoung will face in less than fifteen minutes is definitely the latter because Heehyun would not let the opportunity to semi-legally end her life slips past her.

In a universe where everyone was born with a unique supernatural power, where being a ‘hero’ isn’t too far reach of a dream, Illiad Academy (Seoul branch!) was built to cater to this demographic – heroes in-the-making. Its graduates have been scouted for seats in the government, or passed onto the nation’s force, which makes graduating from the academy sounds beneficial to the future, as they’re one of the most high-paying jobs in the country. In a country in the universe where everyone was legitimately born a superhero, the world is kind of a giant sphere of fighting ring.

Graduating from Illiad Academy without a black eye is very much impossible, though. Kim Nayoung knows about it all, as she’s still recovering from broken ribs. Even though she’s been metaphorically tip-toeing her way through her academy life! (If only that er Ki Heehyun doesn’t exist!)

“Hellooo? Head in the cloud?”

At Eunwoo’s expectant eyes, she sighs. “Okay. Shoot me questions.”

“Why are you so weird today? What’s with the confidence? I mean, it’s Heehyun and Chungha? They’re competent fighters and – us? What are the odds of us coming outta this in one piece? What’s with the lunch? How did you even have the time to pack up lunch when Death is just around the corner?”

“Is that all?”

“And, umm… octopus-shaped sausages, really?”

Nayoung brings back the lid of the box, now emptied out of its content. She’s now excused out of her pinky promise with a certain person, the deal sealed just hours ago when she was handed the lunchbox. “Sejeong packed me this and she made me promise her to finish this.”

“Oh boy.”

“As for the confidence bit,” a grin creeps its way up to her lips, “she said I could beat Heehyun if I finish this.”

“Oh boy. How about Chungha?”

Eunwoo has fired the question. What about Chungha? Her name wasn’t anywhere in the good luck charm Sejeong has casted on her this morning. Nayoung hums as she pulls up her backpack, one she dropped around her legs some time ago, and pushes the lunchbox inside to the deepest part of her trusty brown sling backpack.

“Chungha is, well…”

The door slams open. The dean asks them to march to the arena, signaling their looming death. Nayoung slings her bag around her shoulder and replies a short, stout ‘yes’ at the tired looking dean. They both unwillingly leave the safety confine that is their classroom-turned-waiting room. Eunwoo makes a squeaky noise at each step.

Nayoung pats her waist and reassures her, “She couldn’t wish ill on her own girlfriend, but eh, at least we’re gonna end Heehyun’s perfect record. In style!”
 

She has to remind herself that the deafening cheers aren’t for her, but it’s for the two academy’s favorites at the other end of the arena. Heehyun laps up to the cheering by waving her hand at the audience and blowing kisses to the lucky spectators while Chungha settles with a cool half-smile, oozing the aura of a Dark Horse the audience unitedly root for. On the other hand, Eunwoo’s internally dying, and she, Nayoung, herself has admittedly been dead for years. So.

Things aren’t looking good.

The arena is built similarly to a stadium, with seats surrounding the actual arena and a closed quarter with air conditioning reserved for the commentator and the vice principal who’s in charge of supervising. When Nayoung squints into the blur of color filling the audience seats, she could spot some familiar faces: Mina shouting her support for Heehyun (what a traitor!), someone suspiciously looking like Haebin sitting beside Mina with binoculars set in front of her eyes, and Sejeong with worries all over her countenance.

Meters across them, Heehyun and Chungha take firm steps closer to the center of the arena, where the referee stands with a gun in hand. Her hand is seized by Eunwoo, who pulls her along to the center, and Nayoung tries a little bit too hard to swallow the chuckle when she feels the way Eunwoo’s hand tremble.

Eunwoo, trembling in the shirt and gym-shorts combo issued for practical acts like this. Nayoung files it under ther 'ultra cute' archive.

“This isn’t your first practical exam, but I’m gonna ask just in case. Want me to go over the rules?”

“No nee—“

“Yes please,” Nayoung cuts Heehyun’s boisterous ‘no need’ and earns herself a default glare from her Not Nemesis. She needed to.

Heehyun seethes through her teeth. “What’s your problem?”

“Gotta buy me some time. I may make suicidal jokes at least three times a day, but I still sorta love living.”

To the upping tension, Eunwoo awkwardly glances at her, then at Heehyun, then back at her. Ms. Cheetah gives the situation a quick fix. “Okay, so,” she cuts herself with a self-induced cough, “the rules are simple. One, there’s a pole at each end of the arena. The moment an enemy gets a hold of your pole, your team loses.”

Nayoung, in reflex, inspects the pole far behind her opposing team, colored in blue paint, then turns her body to look at her own, colored in red paint. Red for blood. Not a good sign.

“Two,” Ms. Cheetah continues and briefly stops for the sake of suspense, “no killing each other. Don’t even try to pass your homicide as accidental; I’m here. I see everything. Got it?”

“Got it…” Eunwoo answers for the four of them.

Obviously, Eunwoo’s not the one Ms. Cheetah is hoping for. “Got it, Ki Heehyun?”

Nayoung scoffs at the way Heehyun rolls her eyes. “Got it.”

Ms. Cheetah begins to walk away backwards, slowly, while raising the gun, pointing it towards the sky. “We’ll start with a bang.”

Before the referee could resound the handgun, they need to run to their positions, so all four of them quickly turn on their heels. When she and Eunwoo have made a decent distance from Heehyun (Chungha stays at the far back, with the pole; she’s playing defensive), she pulls Eunwoo close to her for a quick pre-showdown discussion.

Plus, they have to stick close to each other in order for her to be heard. MC Jang has started on his grandiose commentary, and calling it loud is an understatement. “Hey, Eunwoo, I got a plan.”

“You hatched one when Ms. Cheetah was explaining the rules, didn’t you…”

“I did. It’s nothing foolproof, but it might get us somewhere.”

“Do you even know my power?”

Nayoung’s eyes aren’t on Eunwoo as she’s cautiously monitoring Heehyun’s movement right now, but she could tell Eunwoo still hasn’t trusted her yet. Not her fault. Nayoung isn’t famous for winning battles, and if anything, it’s the opposite. “Hey, to make up for my y battling skills, I did a lot of research.” With her arm around Eunwoo’s shoulders, she reaches out for Eunwoo’s cheek with a pointer finger and gives it a gentle poke. “Jung Eunwoo, manifestation of Adonis. You can shoot out arrow-shaped beam of light that could render your enemy terribly in love with you.”

“Okay.”

“Ki Heehyun, manifestation of Epimetheus, god of afterthoughts and regrets. She could morph herself into a half-animal thing, sprouts out wings, grow talons, enhance her physical capabilities… in expense of her rationale. Beastly gal.”

“Oh. Oh god. Are we ed?”

“Not yet.” She moves her eyes to Chungha, who’s leaning back against the pole, coolly answering the audience’s cheering with a half-smile while brushing her dyed-golden hair back. Her movement is well-practiced, and she exudes the aura of an ace. Nayoung jeers at her direction. “Kim Chungha, manifestation of Hermes, the messenger of the gods. She’s the one carrying the bad news for us. Girl is very agile, she could outrun virtually everyone, and she’s a decent melee fighter to boot. She could knock the wind outta us before we could even realize it.”

“Oh. Oh god. Stop poking me!” Eunwoo slaps her hand away, and sends her a pout. “Sooo… since Heehyun’s the one in charge of ripping us to shreds, should we knock her out first? Wait, silly me. None of us could really fight. Should I charm her?”

Denied of the poking, she ruffles Eunwoo’s hair instead. “No. If anything, don’t charm her. She’s gonna morph into her half-animal-thingy, and the last thing we need is something beastly pouncing at you. You don’t want to mate with her.”

“Yeah. Well. Well, not right now. Somewhere more private, maybe.” Eunwoo’s tone grows sheepish at the end. Nayoung corrects her with a glare. “She’s my type!”

“No, but you know who we should charm till they’re hopelessly head over heels for you? It’s—‘

BANG!

“!” with the shot fired, Nayoung quickly lets go of Eunwoo and ushers her to the pole, ready to hold the offense.

She’s up against Heehyun.

It’s not the first time. She has went through broken ribs and broken others. It won’t hurt as much.

Heehyun, already in her stance, taunts her, “I applaud your bravery, Kim.”

“Yeah. Kim Chungha is pretty brave, guarding the pole alone. She might need a backup.”

“Psh. Both you and Eunwoo couldn’t even hurt a fly, but I’m feeling extra generous today. You can have the first hit.”

“Very generous. What’s the occasion?”

“’Cause this will be over in five minutes, tops.”

To be very honest, Heehyun doesn’t have to taunt her, really. No matter how many times she tells herself that this isn’t the first time she’s going to get trashed badly, her legs still tremble. I might die for real. She could feel the sun burning, as it is in the middle of June today, and the arena isn’t fully canopied – the center left agape and the heat seeps through there. Yet, she’s getting a cold feet.

Nayoung holds onto the handle of her sling backpack, tighter, trying to shut the scares away. She sharply intakes a breath when Heehyun begins to voice out a roar, hands holding her head as she begins to forces out her transformation. The talons grow out, though they’re not fully formed yet. Nayoung deduces that she leaves the state at it is to avoid losing too much of her rationale.

“Screw me up, Kim!” Her voice is a notch rougher now and she lunges forward. Nayoung quickly side-steps, but Heehyun’s faster now with her upgraded physical strength. Heehyun manages to land a hit with her elbow and knocks her to the side, and she’s not quick enough to regain her footing, and she falls over.

The Epimetheus manifest is far from done; she kicks up the dust and pulls her fist back and rockets it down to Nayoung, who barely avoids it by rolling to the side. Taking advantage of Heehyun’s vulnerability, she…

… doesn’t run away, instead, she drives the flat of her shoe onto Heehyun’s side and knocks the girl imbalanced for a second, but the latter is quick to hold her ground by quickly getting on all fours.

The cheers get louder. Everyone’s pumped for the ed up show of modern-day gladiator ring. Nayoung spies Mina mouthing ‘Heehyun’ and ‘Chungha’ in the audience, and plans to stir-fry her alive once she’s done with her practical exam.

“ing Kim,” the words rumble through Heehyun’s clenched teeth as she pulls herself back for a second before launching herself forward towards Nayoung. Nayoung holds up her hands forward, bracing for a hit, but instead her abdomen is forced backwards as Heehyun drops a kick with shin. Nayoung falls over backward, but Heehyun’s far from done – a straight jab to her right cheek, an uppercut forcing her jaw upward, and a chop to the top of her head.

The last hit tumbles through what left of Nayoung’s defense as her head spins, her lower lip tastes of copper, and her eyes wouldn’t tear themselves off the ground. With her vision obscured to the ground, she could only watch as Heehyun drags her steps closer to Nayoung.

The cheering is distractingly loud, but it’s not enough to bury MC Jang’s much unneeded commentaries, “Four minutes! As expected, we’ll witness another gold for Ki Heehyun and Kim Chungha’s perfect winning streak after all! Ladies, should’ve brought eye masks, unless you’re into four minutes more of bloody beating!”

Nayoung pulls her body up, standing back to her full height.

“Wow, you look smashed. Literally. Bold red is the ‘in’ shade of lipstick these days, but you’re taking that hella too far.” Heehyun remarks, arrogance craning her face halfway upwards.

“Thanks,” in response, she sighs, and brings a thumb to wipe her lower lip, and ignores the red permeating said thumb, “you aspire to be another Jang or? ‘Cause you talk too much for someone who wishes she could end me in minutes.”

Heehyun hurls another straight jab with her right fist, but this time Nayoung manages to duck low and turns a 180. She kicks the dusts, catapulting her whole body forward, and gallops away from Heehyun towards Chungha. There’s a holler of ‘come back here’ with an exclamation mark somewhere coming from her behind, but Nayoung’s already occupied with running away and trying to take her sling bag off herself.

She locks onto Chungha, who quickly drops to a fighting stance, all the while she hears the thundering slapping of Heehyun’s heavy steps at the ground, chasing after her. Nayoung isn’t the best runner and it’s only a matter of time before Heehyun comes into her field of vision, right beside her. Epimetheus’ manifest hooks her left arm, aiming for her neck, but Nayoung barely escapes her heavy hook by ducking low. She seizes the window of opportunity by sending Heehyun’s abdomen a head-, and Heehyun wobbles backwards for a bit.

“My head!” Nayoung cries out in pain. Noticing that Heehyun’s already back on her feet (what a beast!), Nayoung side-steps to the left, still not giving up on reaching the pole guarded by Chungha. Heehyun reaches out a claw and Nayoung urgently smacks Heehyun away with her sling bag, and it throws Heehyun off-guard as it slaps her reaching claw away. Nayoung falls on her , losing her footing.

“You done playing around?”

The way she asks the Not Question in a low voice… Nayoung’s apprehension brings her to a single conclusion: her death is near.

Or maybe not. She finished the lunch Sejeong packed for her, after all.

“Not yet. You still have three minutes to smack me senseless. Or less.” Nayoung shrugs from the ground. She’s not counting. “I dunno. Couldn’t care le—“

She’s cut off by Heehyun’s leg punting her left cheek hard, throwing her face to the other side. When her vision clears up a bit seconds after, she catches Eunwoo screaming something at her, but Nayoung couldn’t mouth a ‘why’ as she feels her collar getting crumpled up in a fist, Heehyun pulling her up.

Heehyun’s gritted teeth is an ugly thing to watch, but she couldn’t really look away.

“Fight back, ing vermin!”

Her legs feel like blobs of jelly congealed into the shape of legs instead. Meanwhile, Heehyun shakes her collar and it rattles her vision as she’s inflicted the unavoidable headache.

The silence only angers her opponent further. Heehyun presses their forehead together. And it burns. “What’s stopping you?! Why won’t you fight?!”

She wants to throw up. Snarking back becomes a whole new problem when it feels like her insides are messily churned inside. “As much as I want to beat your conceited and steal the win, I’d like to take things slowly. Patience is virtue…” Nayoung coughs at her reddening face. Purposefully. “… on the other hand, you only have a minute left. Decisions, decisions.”

It tickles her funny bone, seeing the way Heehyun’s face scrunches up into another level of anger, face colored unnaturally red from the wrath. It’s sort of fun seeing the amount of hatred Heehyun focuses on her skyrocketing by each of taunt, but her fun is going to be short-lived. She might die this time around.

Heehyun swings a swift fist and it might have cracked her nose broken, but she doesn’t let go of the hold she has on Nayoung’s collar. Next comes a bone-deforming backhand, and it pushes Nayoung’s hands to desperately try to take a hold of Heehyun’s shoulders, futilely trying to push her away.

The difference in strength is much too clear. Another punch socks the side of her face clean. At each hit, the audience sounds like a mix of ooohs and gasps.

Nayoung’s vision blurs, even moreso than before, and she coughs out the blood she’s been holding. She makes sure to spray it on Heehyun’s shirt. For the full effect.

Heehyun’s about to hurtle another clean hit while shouting out a string of profanities towards her until Nayoung feels her body being forcefully released out of Heehyun’s tight grasp. She looks up, trying to process who in the world managed to intervene her death. (Or just postpone it, or whatever.)

A blur of black. Shorter than Heehyun. Arms outstretched, one of them holding a gun.

It’s the referee. Ms. Cheetah.

Immediately, she turns to the direction of Eunwoo, and even though the girl is far away from her, she uses every ounce of her strength to shout at the top of her lungs, “Eunwoo, NOW! Shoot ME!”

Eunwoo looks confused beyond words, but she does that anyway, perhaps to fulfill her dying partner’s last request. A burst of pink energy forms in front of Eunwoo, and she could faintly witness the way Eunwoo makes shoots the bright energy like a practiced archer.

Gather what left of her energy, Nayoung rolls to the side.

And the arrow zooms past her.

To Ms. Cheetah’s standing figure, who quickly gasps after absorbing the electrifying feel of Eunwoo’s charm arrow.

The cheering and chattering in the whole stadium quiet down for a second. And another. And another another. Even MC Jang is surprised at the turn of the event. Nayoung’s the only one smirking in all the ugliness of a beaten-up face.

“I…” Ms. Cheetah seemingly regains her voice, and her consciousness.

At this point, everyone should be holding their breaths, at the edge of their seats, or is halfway onto biting the whole of their nail. All, except Nayoung.

“Miss…?” Heehyun’s voice reeks of hesitation, a rare feat for someone like Heehyun. Nayoung has to bite her lower lip a little to contain her laughter.

Nayoung watches it all from below – Ms. Cheetah turning towards Eunwoo, a side-profile of someone hopelessly in love, and everything else is a blur of everything unbelievable. Ms. Cheetah shoots to the sky twice, signaling a penalty, and at first Nayoung thinks she’s the one violating the rule for harming the referee (though love is, supposedly, harmless to a certain extent). Until the staffs rush inside the arena and Ms. Cheetah gives out directions to haul Heehyun out of the arena.

“Wh—wait, what the , Miss?! I didn’t do anything!?”

Her protest falls on deaf ears. Ki Heehyun gets dragged outside the arena by the staffs, all against her will, and Ms. Cheetah mumbles something along the line of eliminating whoever who’s blocking her love’s – Eunwoo’s – way from achieving victory, and Nayoung finds herself bucking forward from laughing.

To Heehyun’s panicking figure, now a fair distance away from her as she has been pulled out of the arena, Nayoung weakly waves towards her. “All is fair in love and war, baby!”

They didn’t state anything about harming the referee. In a way, she didn’t violate any rule.

She slowly recollects herself, though imbalanced and severely bruised to the point of looking less a human than she has ever been (in a while), Nayoung manages to stand. Ms. Cheetah has removed herself from Nayoung’s way (by skipping to Eunwoo while chanting out love poems, and Nayoung could hear Eunwoo’s horrified screaming), so Nayoung wobbles her way to Chungha.

Chungha looks more worried than threatened by her presence. “Hey… you sure you can still go?”

“Aw, don’t worry. Condition green. Perfect A.” Nayoung tumbles closer, her lower lip when she feels it drying. She gags at the taste of copper. Even with the numerous occasion of tasting it, she couldn’t bring herself to get used to it.

“I mean, I’m not going to hand over the win to you, but I couldn’t whack a dead man either. A dead woman. Whatever.” Chungha sounds too unsure. Nayoung doesn’t like it one bit, and she shows it through a frown. “Also… you haven’t used your power so far. What’s holding you?”

“What?”

“Your power. Why didn’t you use it—“

“Simple. I have none.”

Chungha looks taken aback for a second, but she quickly swallows back her surprise. “So it’s true… you’re the one.”

“Yeah. I’m powerless. What about it?”

“That’s all the more reason to not fight you.”

“Oh, heckie. Stop playing knight… we’re both no knights. Sejeong isn’t here with us. You can play foul a little, you know.” She holds up her fists and does a feat of air-boxing while Chungha stares at her weirdly. “C’mon, beam me up! Whip me good!”

“Oh god…”

“Send me to Agharta with a fwooosh of your fist! Make me feel alive!”

“You’re, uh, you’re already halfway dead.”

“Oh, shut the hell,” she’s interrupted by cough, and the tremor messes with her vision even more, “up, and, fight me!”

Obviously, Chungha is a noble fighter, a welcome contrast to Heehyun who suits Salty Spitoon more than the arena. She wouldn’t beat up Kim Nayoung, a was-fighter with bent nose and wobbly legs and bruises in shades of red and blue coloring her face. Power trip isn’t her thing. Coaxing her to give into the temptation of an easy win might requires a day full of thinking and mulling, as she is the type to abide to moral codes and ethics and whatnot.

So, Nayoung takes the easier way out. She drags her legs, not bother to properly walk anymore. They’re borderline useless without the strength to properly swing them anyway.

Until they’re close enough, just an arm-length away from each other, then Nayoung stops.

If asking her to fight her isn’t enough, then Nayoung just has to make her do it on her own accord.

And to do that, she must prick her soft spot.

“Hey, Chungha. So, about Sejeong…”
 

Nayoung wakes up to a ceiling she’s terribly familiar with, though she really shouldn’t be too buddied to it. After all, the hospital wing isn’t a nice place to wake up to, and it could only mean one thing.

She was knocked out so horribly, they had to heal her up to normal in somewhere else when they could’ve done it on the spot. Hell, they had to nurse her even though they live in a universe where some people are capable of healing through touches alone.

As per usual, the room stinks of chemicals she couldn’t name, but could definitely pin down as “hospital-y”. She slides a hand out of the cover, and there’s no more traces of scratch from her contact with the harsh ground. Her skin is stitched back. Her nose doesn’t feel off anymore. She’s healthier than ever.

“Ahem,”

There’s another person in the room. Hell, there’s someone sitting by her bedside.

But she couldn’t just meet Sejeong’s eyes. When she faces them head-on, she sees a mixture of “what the hell, Nayoung” and “why are you like this, Nayoung”. Both questions unpleasant to answer.

“Oh. Hello there, Sejeong.”

“Soooo, mind telling me what was that stunt for, Nayoung?”

Nayoung averts her eyes, preferring to look at the ceiling she very much hates instead. “I wanna score an A on my report card this time.”

“Oh wow, you and I both know full well you’re not the type to care that much about academics.”

“I do… now.”

“Nayoung,” Sejeong’s voice is surprisingly calm, but Nayoung could tell it drips with worries, “Chungha outed you with one punch. Either you were in that bad of a state or Chungha went too far, but you know how Chungha is…”

She’s laidback and chill and cool, yes. “I should’ve been able to take another three or four. Your girlfriend went after my .”

“Okay. So, say, Chungha went a bit too far. What did you do to her?”

“What?”

Sejeong’s sigh sounds exhausted. “I saw you saying something to her before she went… ballistic. What did you say?”

“Oh.” Nayoung could recall the scene clearly.

Doesn’t mean she wants to share it with Sejeong, no matter how long they’ve known each other for.

“Nothing…?”

“What nothing,”

“Nothing you should know about!”

Sejeong folds her arms in front of her chest, brows taut in the opposite of amusement. “Why are you like this? I couldn’t even make a joke out of all these bull.”

“Naw, no need. I’m plenty happy already.”

“You’re acting plenty weird. You gave your all in a practical exam, you took on Heehyun…”

“I snagged the win from Heehyun.”

Sejeong replies her proud grin with one of her own. “Yeah. Usually, you would just bolt out of the Heehyun’s way, since she could easily walk all over you. What’s the secret recipe?”

“Isn’t it obvious?" Sejeong's confused blinking pushes the laughter out of her. "That’s ‘cause I finished the lunch you packed for me!”

Notes: [1] I was too emotionally exhausted to write for 52, I wasn’t in the mood for a short crack, and I’ve been enduring this plot bunny. I had to let this out… I guess… and it’s my break from 52 and real life. I’m broke. Someone please fund me

[2] Now that it's out of the way I could write for both ! Yay ! A nice distraction till ggd's next comeback I guess. Or at least until univ starts for me ;\