Angel's Library

They stare at one another from opposite ends of the ring. Chai has his bat resting on his shoulder. Korsica has her batons by her sides. He taps his foot to the beat of a song only he can hear. She readjusts her grip.

He springs towards her. She races at him. They meet in the middle, weapons clashing.

Chai presses forward, and she does the same in turn. Korsica’s batons get shoved against her chest. His bat gets pinned against his own. Their faces are mere inches apart. It’s a battle of push and pull, one that he’s slowly losing.

Applying more pressure and stepping forward, she forces him to start bending backwards. Eventually, he stumbles, falling back. Pulling her batons up, Korsica gets ready to pin him down—only to find herself pinning the air as Chai quickly springs away. Literally; he catches himself before he can hit the floor and does a clumsy, one-handed back handspring.

She looks up at him, brows raised. He smirks.

Charging at her, Chai swings his bat. She narrowly dodges as she spins out of the way. Combining her batons, Korsica whirls the staff they make around to blow him over. His skirt flows around him as he twirls away from the current.

Leaping at him, she blows another surge of wind his way. He dodges it easily. Landing in front of him, staff split back into its halves, she lashes out at him. His bat is quickly put in the way, blocking the blows. Then, as she lets up, he strikes out, hitting her in the side and knocking her away. She grunts. She barely manages to catch herself before she falls down.

They’re back to where they started. But now, Chai’s standing where she originally was, and vice versa. He has his bat by his side. She has her batons held up defensively. He snaps his fingers along to whatever song he’s listening to. She takes a deep breath.

A few moments of relative quiet pass.

“You alright?” he asks. “I didn’t hit you too hard, did I?”
“No—you didn’t. I’m fine.”
His eyes narrow, gaze flicking about her.
She shifts, frowning.

A grin suddenly breaks out across his face. And then, he hops in place, before leaping at her, bat raised. She easily blocks it with one baton as he brings it down. With the other, she hits him in the side, knocking him off-balance. Chai stumbles away with a hiss. He somehow keeps himself upright.

He shoots her a crooked smile. “Now we’re even.”
Korsica huffs. But the corners of her mouth quirk up.

The match continues on like that; a familiar back-and-forth, trading blows and dodging and blocking with practiced ease. But neither of them fall. They stumble, trip, kneel—but their backs never hit the floor.

Eventually, they pause, once more at opposite ends. Chai’s panting, bent over with his hand on his thigh. Korsica’s head is bowed, shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath. His hold on his bat is loose. Her grip on her batons is just as insecure.

They lift their heads up, gazes meeting at (almost) the same time.

He jumps towards her. She runs at him. They meet in the middle—literally. They collide, and promptly fall to the floor in a heap with a thud and a clatter, their weapons sent flying before landing—thankfully—nearby. And then they just…lie there. Korsica’s too shocked and tired to get up. She can barely even process what just happened. Chai bursting out laughing is what snaps her out of her stupor. She can’t help but chuckle.

He sits up, hovering over her. “Does this mean I win?”
“Wh—what?”
“You’re on your back. So…I win?”
She sighs. “Sure, Chai.”
“Hell yeah!”

Peppermint looks over at Chai and 808. She smiles. Then, her brow furrows as she frowns a little. Thinking. Chai looks at her and tilts her head. 808 tilts her own head at the same time.

“What’s up?”
Her eyes widen as she jumps a bit. “What?”
“You’re doin’ your thinking frown. What’s up?”
“Oh. I was just…your hair’s getting long. You gonna get it cut?”
Chai hums thoughtfully. “...Nah. Think I’ll grow it out. See how I like it.”

808 turns her head to look at Chai. She hadn’t noticed before, but her hair is getting to the length she usually cuts it at. That must be why she’s wearing the hair clip. 808 wonders how she’d look with long hair.

“Hm. I can sort of imagine how it’d look,” Peppermint says.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” She looks past Chai. “Hand me that notebook and pen.”

They both follow her gaze to the side table. One of her many notebooks is sitting on it, a teal pen resting on that.

Right as Chai moves to sit up and grab it, 808 hops over and picks them both up in her mouth. It’s a little awkward, but she manages. Returning to Chai’s chest, she pads closer to Peppermint so she can take them. Peppermint does so with a chuckle and a pat to her head.

“Thanks, 808.”
She meows, lying back down.
“Now, try and sit still, Chai.”
“Okay.”

Setting her laptop aside, Peppermint turns to properly face them. Then, she opens the notebook and starts to draw. Her gaze flicks between Chai and the open page. Chai, surprisingly, stays almost perfectly still.

808’s a little impressed. She’s never seen Chai so still! It’s…kinda eerie, actually. She turns to watch Peppermint draw.

Once she’s done, she holds the notebook up for them to see. It’s a drawing of Chai, of course—but her hair is a lot longer. It’s wild, like it always is. It spills over her shoulders.

Chai’s eyes widen. She sits up, causing 808 to fall into her lap with a startled mrrow. She shakes herself as Chai gingerly takes the notebook from Peppermint.

“Wow. Huh.”
“...Is that a good ‘wow’ or…?”
“Yeah. It’s— wow. ”

808 turns into her orb form and floats up to look at it again. Then, she looks at Chai. Her eyes are shiny. 808 floats over to her shoulder, where she turns back into her cat form to hang. She rubs the top of her head against Chai’s cheek. Chai leans into it, smiling.

“You’re a really good artist.”
“Thanks. You’re a pretty good model, surprisingly. Where’d you learn to sit so still?”
“Oh—a, uh…old friend of mine. He’s an artist. Or—was, I dunno what he’s doing now.”
“Is this the same friend that used to do your makeup?” Peppermint asks.
“Nah, different one. But I did get good at staying still from that, too.”

Looking back at the drawing, Chai runs her fingers along some of the teal lines. Then, after another moment, she hands the notebook back to Peppermint.

“You draw me like I’m the belle of the ball or something.”
“Wh—” Peppermint huffs, a smile on her face. “What does that even mean?”
“Like…I’m super pretty,” Chai explains.
“Well, you are pretty.”
808 nods in agreement. Super pretty.
“I guess I do feel pretty pretty today…”

Peppermint rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling. She stares at the picture for a moment.

“Do you know how to actually manage hair like this?” she asks.
“What? Long? Sure. I used to do my friend’s hair all the time.”
Her brows go up. “Wait—really?”
“Yeah! It was kinda tricky, ‘cause I had to do it one-handed, but I can do ponytails and braids and stuff.”
“That’s…pretty impressive. Do you still remember how?”
“Yep,” Chai replies, popping the ‘p.’ “Why? You want me to do your hair?”

Peppermint’s brow furrows, frowning slightly. Then, she shrugs, smiling.

“Sure, why not? Just be careful to not let it get caught in your prosthetic.”
“Oh, right…I’ll just do it one-handed.”