katsmithart

Genie in a Double-Deuce

“Aw man, I lost another one!” Mitch cried as he reeled in his line. “What am I doing wrong?”

Cory laughed from his seated position nearby, setting aside his sketchbook and pencil. “You’re probably not baiting your hook very well!” He rose to his feet and walked over to where Mitch stood, pulling another nightcrawler from the bait bucket. “Let me see what you’re doing.”

Mitch’s face scrunched in frustration as he displayed his baiting method. He ran the hook perpendicularly through the side of the worm and let it dangle and twist on the hook. His steely-blue eyes turned to Cory for feedback. “Well, what do you think?”

“There’s your problem!” Cory said with a laugh. “Here, let me show you.” The auburn-haired boy reached out and grabbed the hook, gently prising the squirming nightcrawler from its torturous prison. “You’re making it too easy for the fish to steal the bait.”

Placing the worm onto the top of their cooler, Cory fished a pocket knife from his jeans and chopped the nightcrawler into several roughly-equal smaller pieces. Grasping one of the middle segments, he threaded the hook through it, concealing most of the metallic finish within a pale fleshy coat.

Mitch frowned. “Doesn’t that seem excessive? That’s… kinda gruesome.”

“The bigger fish, the ones that have lived longer, have learned to nibble the bait rather than gobble the whole thing up. You’ll never hook one when it can get the worm so easily,” Cory replied, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Give that a shot and I bet you’ll catch something nice.” His brown eyes sparkled as he smiled at Mitch. “I promise!”

Mitch’s cheeks colored a bit as he turned his attention to the water. “Yeah yeah yeah, whatever. How would you even know, anyway? You hate fishing.” He wound his arm back and flicked the line over the water, casting into a shadowy area with dappled sunspots filtering through the leaves overhead. “Like, you don’t actually like doing most of the stuff we do, but you always come along with me, anyway.”

Having returned to the shaded spot where he’d been sitting, Cory hid his grin behind the sketchbook and resumed the drawing he’d been working on. The pencil’s movement on the paper made the only sounds other than the gentle lapping of the lake water on the shoreline and the periodic calls of wild birds. “I just like hanging out with you,” Cory finally said. “You’re relaxing, and it’s fun teaching you stuff.”

“You’re only two years older than me,” Mitch grumbled. “It’s not like I never teach you anything!”

Cory snorted with the effort of trying to suppress a laugh. “I mean, sure, but I don’t know that the decay rate of a human corpse in the desert has a lot of real-world applications for me!” He slouched over his drawing to update a few details.

Mitch squinted at the white and red bobber floating on the surface of the water. He gently gave a couple turns on the reel and continued watching his line. “I mean, you don’t know how it could help you now but who knows what the future holds? Some day, you could be an author or a forensic pathologist!”

“Yeah, I don’t see myself going in either of those directions,” Cory admitted. “I mean, I’m not even in high school yet.” He trailed off, looking up from his drawing to watch the sunlight dancing on the surface of the water in the ripples. 

“You never talk about the future,” Mitch stated. “Don’t you have any idea what you wanna do when you grow up?”

“Not really. I’m twelve. I’ve got six more years to figure out whether I want to go to college or trade school or something. I’m sure I’ll have something figured out by then,” came Cory’s dreamy reply. “Right now, I just want to enjoy being a kid. Have fun. Relax. That kinda stuff.”

Mitch snorted. “You say that now, but what happens when you find a girlfriend? I bet she’ll have all kinds of plans for your future!”

“Not all women are as bossy as your mom, you know,” Cory retorted with a grin. “My mom’s pretty laid back. Dad’s actually kinda the bossy one in my family.” 

“Psssh, it’s girls our age you gotta watch out for. They’re the mean ones.”

Cory’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean? I get along great with girls. It’s most of the guys my age that are the dicks.”

Mitch laughed and gave his line a little tug. “The guys wouldn’t pick on you if you’d just play with them! You’re always skipping out of sports and stuff to draw and read. They probably think you’re acting like you’re better than them, or something!”

With a heavy sigh, Cory closed his sketchbook and set it aside. “Can we drop this? We have recess at different times. You don’t see how they act… what they say…” He pushed the long hair away from his eyes and tucked it back behind his ear.

Mitch glanced over his shoulder at his friend and noted the lost, sad expression on his face. Oddly, in this light, Cory looked strangely pretty. For a guy, anyway. The sun made the reddish-gold highlights in Cory’s shoulder-length auburn hair glitter. With the strands tucked behind his ear, the hair framing his face made him look fairly feminine. Mitch jerked his gaze back towards the water before he got caught staring.

“You should get a haircut,” Mitch said flatly.

“Don’t wanna,” was Cory’s only reply.

Suddenly, the tip of Mitch’s fishing rod dipped downward and the bobber disappeared beneath the surface of the water. With a loud whoop, the younger boy pulled the rod back to set the hook before beginning to reel in his catch. But almost immediately, the line began to strain and the pole remained unnaturally curved toward the surface of the water. “Shit, I think it’s caught on something!” Mitch muttered.

“Don’t pull it straight back,” Cory advised. “Try pulling your pole to the side, see if that gives you some more give. The fish might have gone under a log or a rock or something.”

Mitch did as he was told and moved the pole to his right, giving the reel a tentative turn. Sure enough, he could feel the weight of something heavy being pulled on the line as the bobber dragged across the surface of the water. With increasing excitement, he continued to steadily reel in the burden of his line as it pulled closer and closer to the shoreline on which he stood.

Cory had hopped to his feet again in order to investigate his friend’s catch. As he arrived where Mitch stood, both of them wore expressions of confusion. The hook emerged from the water bearing a hefty metallic cylinder.

“Is that… a beer can?” Mitch finally asked.

“I dunno,” Cory replied. “It doesn’t have a label. But it’s the same shape and size as those big beer cans my dad drinks.”

A devilish smile spread across Mitch’s face. Cory knew in a moment what he was intending. “Dude, no. Please don’t drink the mystery beer from the lake. I’m pretty sure that’s how zombie movies start,” Cory cautioned.

But it was too late. In the course of releasing the tab of the can from his fishing hook, Mitch pulled the tab back into the top of the can to the sound of a loud hiss. Neither of them expected what happened next, however. A voluminous bloom of blueish smoke burst forth from the can in Mitch’s hand, shocking the boy and causing him to toss the can to the ground. As the smoke continued to pour out, it began to coalesce into the shape of a very large man.

“HOOOOOO-EEEEEEEEYYY!” the man-like form shouted in a high-pitched hog call as it solidified.

Before the two boys on the shore of the lake floated a barrel-shaped man easily twice their height. His broad torso was unadorned save the single denim strap that held up the front of his bib overalls. A sporadic mass of body hair dotted the large man’s skin, giving way to a great bushy beard that obscured the jawline. A reddish, bulbous nose jutted out over the dark beard. Two glowing green eyes peered down at the boys beneath a dark unibrow that looked for all the world like a massive fuzzy caterpillar. The top of his head, from what little the boys could see, was hidden beneath a trucker cap that bore an illustration of a race car on its face.

Dumbfounded, Mitch and Cory began to back away from the apparition they’d unleashed.

“Well hey there, y’all! How you tikes doin’?” the strange man said as his gaze fell upon the boys.

“Um. Fine. Sir. Please don’t kill us. Sir,” Mitch muttered, his eyes still wide and staring.

“Now I ain’t gonna hurt ya! Ya look like good kids, and ya let me outta that double-deuce!” the man exclaimed. 

“What’s a double doose?” Mitch asked in genuine confusion.

“Twenty-two ounces,” Cory replied. “The volume of that can,” he added with a gesture to the can still held by Mitch.

“Yessir! Dang, you a smart kid, y’know?” the strange man said with a smile. He straightened up (as much as one could without legs) and folded his arms across his broad chest. 

“So here’s the deal, kiddos. I’m supposta grant a wish to whichever one’a y’all let my can outta the can.” He squinted at the children for a moment and his eyes lit up with recognition. “And that looks like it’s you, Mister Man! Fishin’ eh? Can’t say’s I’m surprised you found my can in the water. Last guy that called on me was in a bass boat, after all!”

“Uh, are you a genie? Like in that Aladdin movie?” Mitch asked.

“Yeppers! Same rules, too. Can’t bring back the dead, can’t make someone fall in love, and I can't kill anyone. Oh, and no wishing for more wishes! I only grant one, not three. Somethin’ ‘bout a karmic distribution from the folks in charge, I hear.”

Cory frowned at his friend. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Mitch. Maybe we should just send him on his way?”

“No way, bro! This is my chance!” Mitch exclaimed. “I can get a huge guarantee on my future!”

“So, what, you’re gonna wish for money?” 

The genie let out a booming laugh. “Yeah, it’s what most folks wish for! Not real original, but everyone wants ta be rich!”

“No way! I want to make sure that when I get older, I don’t have to worry about being bossed around like my dad! I want to wish for a girlfriend that won’t treat me like a wallet!”

The genie stroked his beard. “Now, I said I can’t make anyone fall in love. So think about how you wanna do this. Can’t really give you advice, here. When you’re ready, just say ‘I wish’ and then tell me yer wish!”

Cory wrung his hands a bit. “I still really think this is a bad idea. Maybe we should take some time to think about it? What if this is like a Monkey’s Paw thing and the wishes only come true in bad ways?”

“Naw, it ain’t nuthin’ like that!” the genie reassured them. “I ain’t smart enough ta do nuthin’ sneaky like that. But I do gotta take the path of least resistance. So any wishes I grant gotta have the least karmic blowback.”

Mitch scratched the back of his head, the fishing pole lying forgotten on the ground as he studied the silver can he held with his other hand. “Okay, I think I got it.”

“What are you going to wish for?” Cory inquired. The anxiety in his voice was obvious. He didn’t want anything bad to happen to his friend.

“Okay, Genie. I wish…” Mitch’s voice trailed off as he thought about how to phrase it. “I wish for the girl most likely to make me a happy man for the rest of my life to show up in front of me!”

The genie spit off to the side and nodded. “Wish… granted!” he exclaimed as he snapped his fingers.

There was an explosion of light and smoke that obscured all vision and for a moment, Cory and Mitch thought they’d been tricked. But as the smoke dispersed and their vision cleared, they looked around in confusion. It was still just the three of them standing by the water.

“I don’t get it,” Mitch stated. “Where’s my future wife?”

The genie grinned. “Standing next to ya,” he stated as he gestured at Cory.

Cory stared at the genie in disbelief. “What are you talking a-” Cory’s voice trailed off. His voice sounded a little bit different. Not much, but enough to notice. He placed a hand to his throat and tried talking again. “...about?”

With a non-committal shrug, the genie said, “Path of least resistance. Easier to change someone who already likes ya into a girl than find a girl who might like ya. Turns out, not many folks know ya well enough to like ya like that!”

Cory groped his chest and realized that while it wasn’t much, there was some extra padding there that wasn’t there before. He didn’t bother checking anything else.

“Not cool! Change me back!” Cory yelled. His eyes began to tear up. “How am I going to explain this to my parents?”

They both looked at the genie, who was now looking noticeably more translucent. They could see the water through his body. He shrugged again. “I couldn’t make a person outta nuthin’. But I can warp reality a bit so that the folks that know ya have always known ya as a girl. Insteada bein’ Cory Andrew Connelly, now yer Carrie Anne Connelly! And you’ll grow up to be a cutie!”

Cory-now-Carrie dropped to their knees in shock.

Mitch shook the can in his hand. “This isn’t what I asked for! I wanted to meet a girl that could be my future wife, not turn my best friend into a girl!”

“Hey now, kiddo, I got the idea from you in the first place! In the backa yer head, you was thinkin’ you’d like a girl just like yer friend!” the Genie retorted. “I was just followin’ yer lead!” He shook his head and glanced at a blank space on his left wrist. “Anyway, looks like my time’s up. Gotta find my next potential wisher!”

“Wait, Mitch, give me the can! I’ll wish myself back to normal!”

Mitch stared at the can, his face flushed red from embarrassment. But instead of handing it over to his friend, he shook his head. “No, I think this is better for both of us.”

Cory-now-Carrie blanched. “What do you mean? I just wanna fix this!”

“Think about it! You get along better with girls already. And you were already kinda confusing-looking with your hair and face… I think you’ll be happier this way!” reassured Mitch.

“Too late! Bye, y’all!” The genie broke down into smoky particles and began to condense into the beer can. The top of the can resealed itself with an odd hissing sound and the can shot straight up in the air, only to rocket off into the distance.

Dumbfounded, Carrie continued to stare into the sky for several moments before her gaze fell on her friend Mitch.

Mitch offered an uncertain smile. “If it’s any consolation, you really don’t look that much different? It’s like you were meant to be a girl all along!”

“You left a clause in your wish,” Carrie growled with a sinister smile.

“Huh, what’s that?” Mitch asked.

“You wanted someone to make you happy for the rest of your life.”

“Okay? What are you getting at?” replied Mitch.

“If you die, I should go back to normal!” Carrie roared as she launched herself after Mitch. “So I just have to kill you!”

Mitch reeled back in surprise, spinning on one foot to run away, only to trip over his discarded fishing pole and fall to the ground. Carrie, already in motion, tripped over Mitch’s feet and landed on top of him. As she did so, her face collided with Mitch’s and their lips locked into an awkward kiss.

She immediately pulled away and sat up, covering her mouth. “Ugh! I can’t believe you were my first kiss!” she shouted indignantly.

Mitch burst out into laughter. “Sorry about this. I really am. But… is it really that bad?”

“No. But you’re still an asshole,” Carrie admitted after a few moments.

“So… did he really turn you into a girl?”

“I haven’t checked my pants, but I do have boobs,” Carrie sighed in response.

Mitch sat bolt upright. “Can I see?”

Carrie chucked a fistful of dirt at her friend. “Hell no! I haven’t even seen them, yet, and I’m not wearing a bra!”

“That’s even better!” Mitch said excitedly.

“Asshole!” Carrie said as she lobbed another chunk of dirt. 

The two of them laughed as they continued tossing dirt at each other and fighting until sunset.

Somewhere, miles away, there was another loud “HOOOOOOEEEEEEEYYYY!” as another unsuspecting sucker cracked open what they thought was free beer. But that’s a story for another hog roast.

To a Very Special Person

As it so often happened, Kobayashi was unaware of what had transpired until the following day when, as it should never happen, she read about it on the local news app on her phone. The article was thankfully vague, but it was clear that a certain somebody who shouldn’t be seen in her true form, was spotted in the skies over Tokyo.

“Kanna!” Kobayashi called brusquely. “Come here, please!”

White-lavender hair and bright blue eyes peeked around the corner of the bedroom door, but dared not move farther than that. Kobayashi adjusted her glasses and closed her eyes, letting out a long breath to calm herself and tried again.

“Kanna? Could you please come here?”

The young girl hesitantly approached Kobayashi, her diminutive height making her seem all the more child-like despite her great many years relative to the humans. One might not know from looking, but this girl in the pastel gothic-lolita outfit with tribal accents, was actually a dragon. Indeed, her horns were visible on her head and a long thin tail with a ball at the end swished nervously as she awaited Kobayashi’s admonishment.

“Kanna-chan, what did we say about letting people see our true form?” Kobayashi asked, doing her best to remain as serene as possible.

“Nobody should see a dragon in Tokyo,” Kanna said softly, her voice nearly a monotone.

“Correct. And what did people see in the skies of Tokyo yesterday?” Kobayashi continued, her own voice softening in reaction to the cute dragon girl before her.

“They saw me,” Kanna replied.

“Can you please tell me why they saw you, Kanna-chan?” Now that she had shifted into a more motherly role, Kobayashi was having a much easier time remaining calm despite the news article’s blurry photo of Kanna’s dragon form as seen from the streets of Shibuya.

Kanna nodded and shuffled back to her room without saying a word. Kobayashi frowned, not knowing what to expect. Ever since she had taken in her dragon maid as well as the younger dragon girl, the software engineer’s life had been turned upside-down. It was downright shocking how well the young woman had taken all of this in stride, in fact moving to a larger apartment to accommodate the three of them more comfortably. Perhaps it was some subconscious desire for companionship that overrode Kobayashi’s human survival instincts and allowed her to cohabitate with the mythological beings from a parallel world.

After a couple long minutes, Kanna returned to the living room with a neatly-wrapped package - a small blue red box with a shimmering golden ribbon tying it closed, a beautiful bow topping it all. Perplexed, Kobayashi accepted the package from Kanna, looking back to her adorably round face for further instruction.

“Open it. It’s for you,” Kanna stated with what could almost be confused for a hint of excitement as her large blue eyes shone expectantly.

Removing the bow was a simple matter and Kobayashi was soon looking into the box with a mix of emotions. At the top of the box was a card with the name ‘Kobayashi’ written in a neat, but slightly childish hand. Setting down the package on the coffee table, she opened the envelope and withdrew the card. It was a cute design, mostly butterflies and flowers. It read, “To someone very special.”

Kanna said softly, “I’m sorry it’s a couple days late.”

Kobayashi opened the card and on the inside, there was a drawing of Kobayashi and Kanna holding hands next to the words “Happy Mother’s Day.” It was signed “Kanna Kobayashi.”

Choked up with emotion, she set the card down on the table and looked back in the box. There was a silky red tie with the embossed image of a pair of dragons entwined around its surface. Without hesitation, Kobayashi removed the yellow tie that was a signature part of her appearance and put the red tie around her neck, quickly knotting it in a Double-Windsor and pulling it taut.

She looked to Kanna, whose eyes were welled up with tears and whose mouth was curled into the barest hint of a smile. This was Kanna’s over-joyed face - an expression rarely seen but heart-warming when viewed. Kobayashi pulled Kanna into an embrace as if guided by an outside force. When she realized what she had done, she pulled away and coughed.

“Thank you very much for the gift, Kanna. It’s incredibly thoughtful and I really appreciate it,” Kobayashi said in a slightly shaky voice. In truth, it was one of the most thoughtful things anyone had ever done for her and it filled her with a mix of emotions that threatened to bring out tears of her own. “Can you do me a favor, in the future, Kanna-chan?” she continued, if for no reason than to calm that turbulent feeling in her chest.

“Yes, Kobayashi?” Kanna replied quietly.

“Next time you need to run an errand outside of town, please ask Tohru to go with you? Tohru can use magic to hide you from view. Otherwise, please use the trains! I know they’re slow - I use them every day. But it’s the safest way to keep your secret so you can keep living with me.” Kobayashi, accustomed to being the voice of reason in most situations, was doing her best to remain logical despite the burgeoning maternal feelings welling up within her. She turned her phone towards Kanna, who looked at the picture on the phone and frowned.

“I’m sorry, I will make sure nobody sees my true form but you and Tohru and our friends.” Kanna rarely spoke this much at once, so Kobayashi knew that the young girl was being very earnest in her response.

Kobayashi smiled warmly, another rare expression for a woman who is normally described as having “dead fish eyes.” She reached out and patted the pastel-colored girl on the head, an action which elicited a contented smile from Kanna as she accepted the head-pats.

Tohru peeked from around the corner of her room, jealousy kept at bay by the sincerity of the moment. Sneaking a camera up into position, she surreptitiously took a picture and smiled. Looking down at the warm scene on the LCD screen, she scrolled back and saw the picture of Kanna as seen from the streets of Shibuya. Tohru nodded and turned off the camera. Next time, she thought, Kanna would be more careful - and more decisive in giving gifts. And less likely to be in the news.

Bottle of Pills

I spent three hours staring at a bottle of my pills

Wondering if what’s inside would really be enough

To bring this story to a close.

I hate this mess inside my head, this mass of jumbled stuff

That rolls around in crashing waves

And pushes reason from my thoughts.

My fearful insecurities grasp me tight

And tie my me up in knots

That bind my words and hold my hands

And lock me with inaction.

I do my best to focus on the good things in my life

But they dissolve into abstraction

And lose their form before I think

To memorize their gauzy shapes.

I cling to any scrap of joy

But the pieces always escape

And I find myself alone.

Those that love me - just a text or call away;

But in my head I am alone.

This rigid sense of hopelessness

Keeps my thoughts in disarray

And pushes me to think the worst of myself.

After all, I am a lie, a broken masque of smiles;

Veneer of grins; facade of kindness;

A picture and some witty words on social media profiles.

My depression sings a lullaby of sorrowful deception

That undermines the work I’ve done so far.

I let out a silent, wordless scream

That echoes in this fleshy avatar;

This marionette of bones and blood

In which I struggle to control

The daily fight within my head -

The battle for my soul.

The bottle taunts me, pills rattle within

I count their tiny taps against the plastic wall

And do the math. They are too few.

Looks like I live another day, after all.

Another Route - Fate/Stay Night

Tohsaka Rin looked at the petite blonde in front of her. The girl’s green eyes seemed to bore into Rin’s soul, scrutinizing everything about her in mere moments. Something about this felt off - as though it went against the natural order of things. But Rin couldn’t deny that this was the proper Servant she had summoned. Everything had gone to her meticulously-crafted plan.

“I ask you… Are you my Master?” The blonde girl’s voice was firm, noble. There was no hint of malice or subterfuge. This was the voice of a pure-hearted soldier. Rin noted the elegant braiding of the Servant’s hair, an element that seemed as natural to the young woman as her regal bearing, yet seemed too pretty for a seasoned warrior.

“I am Tohsaka Rin, the Mage who summoned you,” Rin said as authoritatively as she could muster. “I am your Master.” Her voice trembled at the end, but from nervousness or excitement she couldn’t tell. “Please state your True Name and class.”

The blonde girl, clad in an ornate blue dress with heavy gauntlets and a breastplate, appraised Rin intently for a moment then studied her surroundings before speaking. “I am the Saber class. My name is Artoria Pendragon. History knows me as King Arthur. Please, address me as Saber.”

Rin gasped. She had summoned *the* King Arthur? And *he* was truly this beautiful young woman before her? This didn’t make much sense, but Rin knew as a Mage that common history was rarely true to life. Still, this was a little hard to bite. Of course a Magus of her caliber would summon the strongest Servant class, but King Arthur? She raised her eyebrow curiously and tossed her dark brown hair over her shoulder. “What proof have you to offer of your True Name?” Rin asked.

Without uttering a word, Artoria extended one arm in front of her and golden light shimmered up from her hand into the shape of a blade. As the light dissolved, it revealed gleaming steel ornamented in gold and blue. This was, without a doubt, the fabled sword Excalibur. Rin could feel the pure mana radiating from the weapon… and the drain it was putting on her magic circuit as well as the Bounded Field that encompassed her workshop.

Just as quickly as she had revealed the blade, a gust of wind flowed up from the ground over the weapon and obscured it from sight. Artoria released her grip on Excalibur and its oppressive wave of mana was no more, the weapon now reverted to its Spirit Form. The golden-haired girl gave a slight smirk and said, “I trust this shall suffice as proof?”

Rin nodded numbly, her surprise outweighing her pride. As the two young women stood awkwardly in the relative silence of Rin’s workshop, a terrible sound shocked them both.

“RRrrrrRRRRrrooowwwwrrrrrr,” grumbled Saber’s stomach. Her face flushed bright red and she looked to the side in embarrassment. “Could I, perhaps, partake of the scones on your desk?”

Rin blinked and glanced at the snack she had prepared and forgotten prior to the Summoning. With a slight smile, she gestured toward the tea and scones and said graciously, “Please, help yourself!”

As Saber took the ornately-carved chair that faced Rin’s desk, she sat down gracefully and poured a cup of the piping hot tea. There was a brief moment of hesitation before she picked up a scone and munched on it happily.

The look of bliss on Saber’s face as she ate sent a strange pang into Rin’s heart. How could someone so noble look so… cute? Rin felt a faint flush across her cheeks and she banished the thought immediately. This was no simple girl - this was the King of Knights, her Servant in the Holy Grail War. But the strange ache in her chest did not abate.

Rin took a deep breath to steady her body and her mind. This summoning had taken an incredible amount of mana and burnt through no small number of the gems in which she had stored it.

“Master, you seem to be quite tired. Perhaps you should rest for the night so you can be in top form for the battles to come?” Saber’s voice was firm, yet caring. “I will keep watch through the night to ensure no harm befalls you.”

Rin nodded. She was quite tired… it was late. The 2am summoning despite the odd behavior of her clocks was a feat unto itself given she still had to endure her school routine for appearance’s sake. She looked at the Command Seals on her hand - two opposing concentric arcs with a line extending toward her wrist - and clenched her fist with a smile. She *would* be the victor of this Holy Grail War.

On the way to her bedroom, Rin could feel Saber behind her, a tickling in her mind that seemed to relay information about her Servant. It was a comforting feeling - a bond that needed no words. She hesitated near her bed, about to undress when she glanced at Saber. Saber, mindful of Rin’s modesty, has positioned herself near the window and stoically studied the environment outside. Rin quickly dressed in her pajamas and climbed into bed, stealing one more glance at the young woman by her window before closing her eyes.

Several long minutes passed before Rin felt movement behind her. She rolled over to look where Saber had been standing, but instead found Artoria standing there wearing naught but a slip, her hair loosened from its braid and bun. Rin blinked in surprise, about to ask what the slight young woman was doing, when Artoria leaned forward, placing a finger to Rin’s lips, indicating silence.

What followed was an experience that Rin would never forget - Artoria intimately serviced every part of Rin’s body with her fingers and her tongue, caressing her in ways that Rin could scarce imagine. The ecstasy of the experience was transcendent. Rin bit her lip and struggled to make no noise. But why? There was no one else in the house! Why shouldn’t she cry out her pleasure? She opened her mouth and…

“Master!” came Saber’s voice from the window. Rin’s eyes snapped open as she awoke. “You… seemed to be having a very intense dream,” Saber went on to say. “Are you… well?”

Rin’s body was radiating heat and a sheen of sweat covered her head to toe. She looked to Saber, still fully clad in her armored dress, then down at herself. What the hell was that?!

It was then that she noticed Saber’s face was beet red. In a low voice, Saber muttered, “Just so you know, I can feel what you feel through our bond. Especially when the feelings are strong.”

Flustered, Rin smoothed her hair and her pajamas and replied, “I’ll keep that in mind.” She fanned herself with one hand and thought to herself, This Grail War is going to be more intense than I expected…

The Brothers

I watch him, wondering if he even realizes how much I resent him. His short, round body is offensive to my eyes. His blue eyes gaze out vacantly from atop a large bulbous nose and a mustache that would put porn stars to shame. I used to look up to him. I used to try to be like him. But now I stare at him, trying to will him to look at me, to see the anger and hate and hurt in my eyes.

Years ago, he was sent on a job to a construction site, back when Papa M was still running our shop. He was the older brother, so of course he had first dibs on the big assignments. But when he got there, it was chaos. Most of the construction workers had been frightened off by some rampaging ape. My brother, the idiot he was, went nuts when he found out the ape had some girl... what was her name, Pauline?... hostage as the damn thing wreaked havoc on the upper levels of the construction frame. So what does he do? He decides to rescue her by going after the ape! Some of the girders were broken or bent, so he used those to sneak his way up as the gorilla threw down barrels to try and keep him away.

He may be short and fat, but my brother is one hell of a jumper. The barrels were avoided with ease, Pauline was rescued, and the ape was captured and put on the first plane back to the Congo. People that saw the whole thing play out started to call my brother “Jumpman”, like he was some kind of superhero. Rumors spread like wildfire and all of the sudden he was a celebrity. Of course, while he was doing press releases and ribbon cuttings and guest speaking, I was the one keeping our business running. Even when Papa M fell ill and turned the whole thing over to us, it was me running the shop, cleaning out pipes, checking on septic systems, fixing toilets and sinks. My brother? He was out schmoozing with royalty.

God, I still remember the day we went on vacation. He had gotten an invite to come spend time with a princess he had met during his talk show touring circuit. She was a cute little thing, although she liked to wear too much pink and insisted on wearing her damned crown all the time, as if to rub in our faces that she was nobility and somehow better than everyone else. Anyway, we land at the airport and we’re immediately pulled aside for questioning. These jerks in brightly-colored body armor showed up with their bald heads shining like a bunch of cue-balls and tell us we have to go home. Well, my brother freaked out because he wanted to see his “Peach” (that’s what he was calling the princess at this point), jumps on a table and then on top of one of the Troopers. His fat ass killed the man just like that. Turns out their body armor had compression points and all it takes is a bit of force to crush the ribs of whoever is in them.

At this point, all I wanted to do was get out of this place alive. So I got up on the table and jumped on one of the other guys and followed my brother out the door. The whole kingdom was on lockdown. We couldn’t get anywhere by normal means. I was the one who found the exhaust vents and the drainage pipes for us to make our escape. Let me tell you, the shit that was growing in there was insane. I don’t know what they dump down those pipes, but there were giant mushroom things slithering all over the place and venus flytraps grown up like Audrey II from Little Shop of Horrors. It was terrifying.

Big Bro did what he does best... squashing things with his fat ass. I took a more practical approach and rigged a device to torch the damn things. There wasn’t much to run it on, but thankfully the kingdom was covered with these flowers that had ridiculously high ethanol content. Found that out by accident when I was running out of fuel and let out a few jets of flame in desperation. The flowers caught fire and were literally glowing.

So there we were, crawling in sewers, making a mad dash through open areas when we could, and trying to locate where the Princess was. Unfortunately, the kingdom had eight castles and they were spread out pretty far from each other. We’d go to all the trouble of sneaking past guards, narrowly avoiding traps, and nearly becoming barbecue more times than I care to recall, just to get to the inner chambers and have some lackey or servant tell us, “The princess is in another castle.” WHERE?! None of them would tell us. We just had to keep searching.

Of course, a major complication arose during our journey. My brother discovered these hallucinogenic mushrooms, red cap with white spots, and he started eating them. He’d start tripping and thinking he was getting taller, and he got even more reckless. Thankfully, he sobered up from them pretty fast, usually when he got hurt bad enough to snap back to reality. But he wouldn’t stop eating them and I constantly had to play babysitter while he was jumping on stuff, smashing into things, and generally just being an obnoxious ass.

So as luck would have it, we found out that the princess was in the eighth castle we checked. Some guy claiming he had a right to the throne was staging a coup which was why the whole kingdom was under martial law. This castle was huge. I honestly don’t know why we didn’t check there first, but then I was just following my older brother’s lead. We broke in and the place was worse than an Indiana Jones adventure. There were traps, pitfalls, spikes, flame jets and that was just the foyer. I’d love to meet the twisted bastard who designed that place just so I could give him a swift kick in the cogliones.

After braving all of that and barely surviving, we found our way to a rope bridge leading to a platform on the other side. The contender for the throne, a huge man with squinty eyes, a shock of reddish hair, eczema, and psoriasis, was waiting for us with a flame thrower. Truth told? I still don’t know why nobody in this kingdom had just shot us and been done with it. I guess guns were outlawed. Anyway, he announced his name was “Bowser Cooper,” told us to just go home and we wouldn’t be hurt. We refused and the bastard started chucking hammers at us! My brother started jumping all over the place, hopped up on one of his “super mushrooms” while I tried to work my way closer to the scaly tyrant.

Would-be King Cooper edged his way further out on the rope bridge, far enough from the platform that I could start developing a plan. I signaled my brother to keep him distracted while I sprinted past the giant brute and slid to a stop on the granite platform. I found an axe, apparently a leftover defense mechanism from a war-torn era, and frantically waved my brother to follow me to the other side. He used the undulation of the rope bridge, caused by all the unusual activity, to leap over Bowser and land neatly on the other side. Frankly, I was astounded he didn’t just go careening down into the courtyard below. Bowser, realizing only too late what had just happened, watched in terror as I cut the supports holding up the bridge with the axe. One last satisfying swing and he was clinging to the bridge for dear life.

As my brother went in to check on his princess, I monitored Bowser’s progress climbing up the bridge. He stood on the other side, swore something about revenge and disappeared into the darkness on the other size. I knew this guy was going to be trouble and that he was never going to give up. I shook my head sadly and followed my brother inside.

Folks, there are some things you just don’t want to see, and your short, fat brother’s lily-white ass doing the horizontal mambo with his lady love is definitely one of them. I cannot unsee what was seen, unhear what was heard. Nauseated and embarrassed, I searched the tower for some means of egress. I found a false stone in one of the walls that triggered a mechanism, opening a passageway in the floor. There, dimly-lit stairs wound their way downward into darkness and, with luck, a way out.

My brother and the princess finished their “business” and eventually came out to talk to me. We decided that helping the princess flee would solve nothing and leave her kingdom in a state of complete political unrest. Her father, King Todstuul II, had recently passed away and turned over ruling authority to her. I’m still not sure about the details surrounding her mother, but everyone insists it’s none of my concern.

Together, we left the castle and made our way carefully to a nearby fortification. From there, the palace guard and lead members of the kingdom’s military returned to heed her orders while the press was called to publicize the event. Now I hate to say it, but I’m really camera shy. I can’t help it, I get really shaky and timid when the lenses are pointed at me. So when my brother and I were called in to do an open interview with a bunch of reporters, I just stood there shaking while my brother did most of the talking. Looking back, that was my greatest mistake.

His so-called heroics became the talk of the world. Everyone wanted to talk to him, memorialize him, sponsor him, and more. Me? I just stayed back in the shadows and let him take all the credit. I don’t know why I did it. I felt like it was too late to amend what was said in the initial interviews. Next thing I know, they’re merchandising him and his adventures, painting me as some cowardly sidekick. They released video games, comics, television shows, and plush toys. Heck, we even had our likenesses all over McDonald’s Happy Meals. In the wake of all this fame, my brother decided to close down our family’s plumbing company and establish a new franchise -- Mario Bros. Plumbing. Yeah, that’s right. He used his first name as the branding of his new endeavor. But guess who still got stuck doing all the work?

Nobody wanted Luigi for the press conferences. Nobody wanted Luigi’s autograph. When people passed me on the street, they didn’t ask how I was, or what I had been up to. No, it was only ever about my older twin, Mario. And what was he doing? He had secured an illegal smuggling operation of his girlfriend’s kingdom’s mushrooms to feed his own addiction and to sell on the black market. He laundered the money through his new Mario Bros. corporation while he got to sit pretty on all the profits. All I had was a moderate apartment in the Bronx and a full-time job managing my brother’s image. Not that I really wanted to be spooning off his drug money, but if I had even a quarter of what he made in endorsements and speaking events, let alone all the royalties from his merchandise... Well, no matter. It all ends now.

“Mario,” I say, gathering my strength.

“Yeah, little brother? What’s up?” he replies, proving the voice of his video game mascot is just some offensive stereotype.

“What would you say if you knew that I have despised you for years, now? What would you do, if you knew that I planned on releasing what really happened in your precious Peach’s kingdom?” I ask, my courage growing with each word.

His eyes grow wide, one of the few times I see them when they’re not dilated from his shrooms. His gloved hand trembles as he raises an arm to point at me. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Wouldn’t I? What motivation would I have to help you continue this empire of lies? All this fame, all this wealth is based on your testimony of what happened. I’ve held my tongue for years, watching you get all the glory, watching you become so full of yourself you don’t even realize the kinds of things you’re babbling anymore. And now look at you. I didn’t think you could become any fatter, but clearly I was wrong. You’re just a hedonistic pig and I am sick of living in your shadow! I’ve already sent my manuscript to the publisher for approval. Soon everyone will know all about their great hero, ‘Super Mario’,” I state in a voice shaking from the intensity of my feelings.

It’s then that I see his rage mirroring my own. His eyes burning with hatred for me. I know he’s going to do something rash, something we both might regret. I brace myself, throwing down the hat he “required” me to wear as part of our uniform, the L-branded cap that was the symbol of my years of oppression. I take off the ridiculous Mickey Mouse gloves that he’s expected me to wear ever since he became germophobic and toss them down at his feet, balling up my hands into fists.

He lunges at me and I dodge to the side, slipping on his hardwood floors. There’s a brief moment where I’m afraid I’ll lose my balance, but I recover and round on him, preparing for the next attack. He roars, hopping forward and crouching low. I watch in frozen curiosity as his obese body compresses in his elastic flesh and bounces upward. Using the momentum from his lard, Mario leaps into the air. Terror finally mobilizes my body as I realize he intends to crush me! With barely any time to spare, I do the only thing I can think of and somersault forward, rolling under his apparent trajectory and climb to my feet, his body crashing into the floor and causing the wood to splinter. He charges at me again and this time I leap over him, my feet moving rapidly in a running motion. Time seems to slow down as I drift to the floor, finally landing quite some distance from where I was.

In a fit of desperation, I pull one of the so-called “fire flowers” from my pocket (I had been studying them ever since our adventure in Peach’s Kingdom), set it aflame with the butane lighter in my pocket, and hurl it at my brother as I turn around. The ball of fire falls short of its mark, but bounces upward and strikes him on the leg, catching his blue overalls on fire. He panics, trying in vain to bat at the tongues of flame rising upward, but succeeding only in fanning them due to his inability to reach past his large stomach. In a rare moment of pity, I try to help him pat out the blaze, but he kicks me and knocks me to the floor.

His eyes wild with fear and anger, Mario runs toward me, his footsteps like pounding thunder in his condo, his overalls turning white as ash in the fire. His smoke alarm goes off, the sprinklers built into the ceiling spatter us with water and we both lose our traction. As he is about to crash into me, I think, “This is it. I’m done. Game over.” But that’s when the incredible happens. My brother jumps into an impossible mid-air flip and stomps the floor, crushing the wood and supports, and falling into the room below. How he accomplishes this is beyond me, defying everything I know about physics.

I crawl to the edge of the hole and peer downward. There he sits in a bathtub of water in the room below, laughing hysterically. Hesitantly, I call out, “Mario, are you alright?” He looks up at me, flashes me a ridiculous peace-sign with his right hand, and struggles to his feet.

With water still pouring down on me from the sprinklers above, I fight to maintain traction as I walk slowly to the front door on the hardwood floors. As I’m about to reach for the doorknob, the heavy door is bashed in to the sound of “Police! Nobody move!”

It isn’t long before we both find ourselves handcuffed and sitting in the back of a police cruiser on our way to NYPD. I glance at my brother. He is rocking back and forth in the seat, muttering to himself. With a sigh, I look out the window and watch the sights of downtown New York City pass by in a blur. My heart is heavy as I consider the fallout all of this will have, later.

Time goes by. I had given my side of the story candidly to investigators, gave them a copy of my manuscript to sort out additional details. The story spreads like wildfire on television and the internet. I’m exonerated of the charges pressed against me, my brother struggling to fight his own criminal cases with the aid of his corporate lawyers. Mario Bros. Plumbing is liquefied, its assets being used to pay off his legal bills as he stews in jail, awaiting trial. Me? My manuscript is approved after a bit of editing and becomes an instant best-seller. I get phone calls, letters, emails. Everyone wants to talk to Luigi, now. Everyone wants to hear Luigi’s story.

As I sit in the green room waiting to be called on stage to talk with some Late Night host, I meet one of his other special guests, a lovely young lady by the name of Daisy. Turns out she is a princess, a close friend of Peach, and representative of a small island nation called Sarasland. We hit it off. While my heart is heavy over the nature of my rise to fame, I can’t help but smile. For once, I’m shining on my own, with my own star power.

Batteries

It’s such a funny feeling

   To be a human battery

      To never have the power

         To obtain the mastery

            Of my own ailing body.

I struggle to conserve

   What little energy

      I pull from food and sleep

         And fight the lethargy

            My system is so shoddy

When I was much younger

   I charged up instantly

      And pushed myself beyond my bounds

         To play persistently

            I took myself for granted

But now that I am older

   I wrestle just to call

      The spirit and the vigor

         The simple wherewithal

            To do as I’m demanded

My friends are understanding

   My family? Less so.

      I see the doubt within their eyes

          When I’m unable to go

            Celebrate a holiday

My batteries are aging

   They hold less than before

      Basic household duties

         Require so much more

            Vitality than I display

I cannot fix this broken form

   With food or exercise

      As I try to balance out my needs

         An attempt to humanize

            These shattered batteries

Anniversary Night

Tohru was not going to like this. Kobayashi-san looked at her watch again just to be sure, but it was definitely twenty past ten. The nondescript young woman adjusted her glasses and sighed heavily. There was less than two hours left in the day and today was important. With grim determination, Kobayashi marched through the hallway that led to a pair of otherwise unremarkable elevators. Today, however, those elevator doors looked more like a gateway to salvation. Takiya, Kobayashi’s long-time friend and coworker, stepped quickly to keep up with her pace.

“In a bit of a hurry?” he asked, full-well knowing the answer.

“I’m running late, again,” Kobayashi replied, her flat affect belying her anxiety.

“What do you expect? We’ve been working overtime every night for the past two weeks to get this project finished. The code is coming along, but the front-end still needs work and we have to make sure it’s done by next Friday for the review,” Takiya said with that annoyingly placid expression he wore most of the time. “I’m sure Tohru-san will understand.”

“Not tonight. Tonight’s special.” Kobayashi punched the down button on the elevator and tapped her foot impatiently.

“Did you call home to let her know you would be late?” Takiya inquired.

“I forgot. I was so wrapped up in debugging the sort scripts that I lost track of time,” admitted Kobayashi. “I can’t believe I didn’t set an alarm.”

After what felt like an interminable wait, the elevator dinged its arrival and the doors opened, revealing a very average elevator car with plain brown walls and a stainless steel handrail circuiting the perimeter. The pair stepped inside and Takiya placed a reassuring hand on Kobayashi’s shoulder as she pressed the button for the ground floor.

“Look, whatever importance today has, I’m sure that Tohru-san knows how hard you work every day. She’s a smart girl!”

The elevator hummed quietly as it lowered them to street level and Kobayashi’s anxiety was beginning to stifle the air of the car, making Takiya feel claustrophobic. He took a breath and then asked, “What did you think of the Victorian-era special exhibit at Hibiiya? They had some amazing representations of maid attire!”

A sparkling glint shone in Kobayashi’s eyes as she turned toward Takiya with a small smile. “I know what you’re trying to do. I’m sorry. I know I’m not very good company when I get worked up.”

“Nonsense! I just wanted to have a discussion of the finer points of the duties of a parlor maid versus those of a house maid!” Takiya countered, donning his thick glasses that made his eyes seem tinier than they were.

Kobayashi leaned back against the wall of the elevator and let her shoulders drop, feeling the tension run out of her. “This may be the only time in my life I’ve ever thought about something more than general maid practices.”

Takiya reeled back in exaggerated shock, his glasses somehow staying on his face despite the sudden movement. There was a moment of stunned silence before Kobayashi laughed, more forcefully than before, putting the back of one hand to her mouth to quiet the sound.

DING!

The doors opened on the brightly-lit lobby of the Jigokumeguri office building and the petite redhead squinted her hazel-brown eyes against the light. Takiya, facing away from the doors, was not immediately affected - and it was debatable how much light actually got through those glasses of his, anyway.

The two made their way in comfortable silence to the exit of the building, pausing on the streets of the Chuo Ward to take in the late-night air. It was the smells of Tokyo - vehicle exhaust, mixing aromas of different restaurants, and the overwhelming odor of concrete - that filled their lungs. It was a familiar smell. The smell of freedom for the night.

Takiya gestured over his shoulder. “I’m going to meet Fafnir-san for some ramen before we log in for a dungeon raid. You’re welcome to come!”

“If I’m out any later, I’ll miss the last train. I need to get home as quickly as I can,” said Kobayashi as she started walking toward Higashi-Nihombashi Station. They waved at each other and set off in opposite directions.

Kobayashi hurried, knowing that the next train would get her home in time to still be “today.” That’s what was important. That’s all that mattered.

Several blocks from her office building, she saw a shadow lurking just out of the illumination created by the street light. Kobayashi took a breath, unsure what to make of the form. Just as she was about to call out, the figure stepped into the light. It was Tohru, her arms behind her back and her red-gold eyes glinting under the glare of the LED street light. For someone who was normally so transparent when it came to her feelings, Tohru’s expression was unreadable. Kobayashi felt a lump in her throat as she swallowed, uncertain what to say.

It was Tohru who broke the silence. “You didn’t call,” she said, her voice failing to hint at her emotional state. “You didn’t call, so I came to meet you. Did you forget what today is?”

Kobayashi shook her head vigorously, denying the question. “No, I remember! I was on my way home. I’ve been working late all week, and I lost track of time.”

Tohru suddenly smiled. “I thought you might, which is why I came to meet you!” From behind her back, she produced a large green bottle with the word Dragonslayer written on it. Kobayashi smiled at the memory that bottle evoked.

“It’s been one year since the day we met up in the mountains. One year since you saved me,” Tohru said, proffering the bottle to Kobayashi.

Kobayashi took the bottle, staring at it for a few moments before saying, “I didn’t do anything special. I just helped someone who looked like they needed it.”

Tohru lunged forward, wrapping her arms around the smaller woman, rubbing her cheek to Kobayashi’s cheek with a huge grin with her long blonde twintails swinging about. “Yes, and that saved me! You don’t need to be so humble. I wuv yoooouuuuu!”

A warm redness spread across Kobayashi’s face as her glasses shifted askew from Tohru’s rubbing. Stealing a look around the street, she pushed Tohru away.  “I have an idea,” she began, feeling embarrassed but wanting to show her gratitude for Tohru’s presence in her life. “How about we re-enact that night… Let’s head up where we met and split this bottle.”

Tohru’s wings burst out from her back and she lifted Kobayashi up into the night sky. With a smile so bright it could outshine the moon, Tohru laughed and said, “I thought you’d never ask!”

Commissions!

I'm considering opening up digital art commissions if you would be interested, please send me a message or comment and I can put together a list of prices! I love drawing, but I've been feeling uninspired, lately.

Char Frymaster!

This is the halfling barbarian chef Char and her faithful steed by way of intimidation, the giant dire rat Crisco!

There's a whole story here, so if you're interested I can write it up, but yeah. D&D weirdness.

Chloe (Meow Mix-Up)

So this is more or less how I envision Kyle/Chloe from Meow Mix-Up (https://www.scribblehub.com/series/534819/meow-mixup/)! Is this how you pictured her? Did you have different ideas in mind? I'd be happy to discuss them! This was just a quick sketch I did on-stream at https://twitch.tv/katsmith

What would you like to see?

I'm in the process of getting my life back together after a "season of sickness" (no, not COVID) and one of my first priorities is art and writing!

So tell me, what would you like to see from me? Art of my characters? Fanart? Vignette stories? I'm excited to expand my creative reportoire!