The Trouble with Time Travel, a Hetalia fanshort by Mocha-san

((Author's Note: This was written last night when I was searching for inspiration, randomly wrote a sentence, and then a plotline started flowing from there.))

“...and that was when I invented it!”
Hong Kong stared warily at the little go-cart-like machine Korea was gesturing to. “Korea,” Hong Kong sighed, “You and I both know you didn’t invent this “time machine” you have.”
Korea drew back, indignant. “I did too, da ze! Everything originated in Korea, so why not this time machine?”
“I saw you borrow it from Norway’s garage.”
Korea sighed in defeat. “Anyhow, I still say we should use it to go back in time!”
“First of all, how do you know this thing even works?” Hong Kong asked simply. “Second of all, why would we need to go back in time? We’re all over, like, 200 years old at least.”
“So? We can revisit the good times, da ze!” Korea argued. “Hey, how about we do something nice for aniki and go back to Ancient China and prevent Chun Li from dying?”
Hong Kong considered that for a moment before common sense came back and he shook his head. “No. Terrible idea. What if living with Chun for the rest of his life, telling that Chinese dragons are immortal too, ends in, like, Japan never being born or found? Which would lead to us never coming to be? That’s technically suicide.”
“You and your common sense, da ze,” Korea mused, crossing his arms. “Fine, then. Let’s go back to a year ago and get back at Macau for that one game of Project Diva,” Korea said, climbing into the machine. “Come if you want!”
Hong Kong knew that the chances of something good coming from this venture would be a very definite 9941890 to 1, but he had nothing better to do. So he shrugged and climbed in next to Korea.
Korea turned a dial on the dashboard to “Last Year”. “To the past, da ze! uri nara mansae!”
With that, there was flash of hot pink light and they were gone.

One time journey later…

The time machine deposited them back in the same spot they had left. Hong Kong was drooped over the edge of the vehicle, the rides through time giving him a stomachache.
Meanwhile, Korea was celebrating. “MANSAE! We returned alive! Right, Hong Kong?” No answer. “Are you still nauseous, da ze?”
“No,” Hong Kong replied, “But we kind of have a situation.”
“What would that be, da ze?” Korea looked up. “WHAT THE HECK?!!”
China’s house, where they were supposed to be, was gone. Heck, not even the bamboo forest was there. It was all plum groves.
“Where are we?!” Korea was flipping out. “What happened?! Did we get dropped off in the middle of nowhere?! Oh my God, aniki is going to kill--”
“Hold that thought, Kimchi Lad,” Hong Kong interrupted, placing a hand on Korea’s shoulder to stop him from moving. “I think we got a bigger problem.”
Korea and Hong Kong looked towards the gray sky, where they found the glimmer of skylights.
“Come on,” Hong Kong said as he climbed out of the time machine. “Let’s go see what happened.”
Korea climbed out after them, and they scrambled out of the plum trees towards what they hoped was civilization.
Of course, they found just that. However, this definitely wasn’t the kind of civilization they hoped to see. Everything was grey, white, and red, with maple leaf flags everywhere and on every billboard. People walked around wearing tan coats, and a lot of them had baby polar bears in their arms.
“Holy…” Korea couldn’t even finish.
“I knew this time travel thing was a terrible idea,” Hong Kong deadpanned.
Just then, to confirm their fears, a TV screen next to a billboard turned on and revealed the gently smiling face of Canada. “Hello, this is your ruler Canada speaking,” said Canada, “The time is 9:45, and today, breakfast is pancakes with the best maple syrup around! If that’s OK with you, that is. Have a nice day!”
Korea was visibly trembling. “CANADA took over the world, da ze?!”
“Time to go back to the past again,” Hong Kong said just as flatly. Korea grabbed his collar and started dragging him in the direction of the time machine.

Another time journey later…

Korea opened his eyes, sat up, and looked around frantically.
Blue sky, bamboo, and China’s house. Everything was as it had been.
“YES!” Korea hollered in delight. “YES! WE SAVED THE PRESENT, DA ZE! URI NARA MANSAE!”
“Great,” Hong Kong deadpanned. “Can we take this thing back to Norway’s and go back in now?”
“What were you two up to, aru? And what in the name of Confucius is that?”
Korea watched China approach them, already feeling trouble was around the corner. “We went back in time, da ze! We just fixed a tiny detail, but when we came back, Canada had taken over the world! So we went back again and fixed it, da ze!”
China raised an eyebrow. “Hong Kong, is that true, aru?”
“Yes, and I need to lie down,” Hong Kong replied, still drooped over the side of the machine.
China rolled his eyes. “Well, after all the magic mishaps, dragons, and then the Jiangshi incident, I’m not surprised anymore, aru.” He went back into the house. “Come inside for lunch, aru.”
“Mansae!”
“Ugh.”

Caramel Toffee, a AmeBel fanshort by Mocha-san

((Author's Note: A little America/Belarus I wrote when randomly writing things one afternoon.))

Belarus ran a hand through her platinum hair, waiting more-or-less patiently on the street corner. 
You see, while Belarus lazed around her house, planning ways to chase her brother Russia, America had randomly come over and asked her out on an ice cream date. At first, she just scowled and slammed the door in his face. In the end, though, she ended up calling to apologize and agree to the ice cream invitation.
She sighed. She had no idea what possessed her into actually wanting to come here with him, but yet, here she was.
"Bells!"
Belarus turned and saw the hyper American run down the street, waving. "Hey, Bells! Glad you came!"
"Don't call me "Bells"," Belarus warned bitterly. "Where is this ice cream you told me about?"
America laughed. “Step over here, my lady.” He gestured for her to follow him, which she did.
America led her from the street corner to the little green park nearby, where they found an ice cream vendor near the benches.
“What flavor do you want?” asked America, pointing the small list of flavors next to the vendor.
Belarus glanced at the list, not even hesitating to answer. “Vanilla.”
“Vanilla?!” America exclaimed. “Don’t you want to be more adventurous? Like look at this flavor! Raspberry fudge! Don’t you want to be a little different this time?”
Belarus scowled. “I asked for vanilla. I don’t wish to be fat like you.”
America flinched slightly. “Geez, don’t hurt me, Bells. Fine, vanilla it is.” He turned to the vendor and ordered the ice cream, while Belarus found a bench to sit on. America received the ice cream, paid, and then went to sit down next to her. He handed her the treat. “There ya go!”
“Thank you,” she said simply, taking it. She looked at it for a minute before starting to lick.
America was digging deep into his ice cream, a golden-brown flavor with swirls of what seemed to be caramel. Belarus stared at it, wondering what the flavor he got was.
“What did you get?” she asked after a while.
“Hmm?” America looked up, ice cream covering his mouth. He wiped it off and smiled. “Oh, the flavor? Caramel toffee!”
“Toffee…?” Belarus pondered on it a small bit. She had had toffee before--it was one of the candies she actually really liked.
“Yeah!” He held out the cone. “Wanna try some?” 
She gazed at it, an eyebrow raised. After a minute, she sighed and took a bite from the ice cream.
She licked her lips, and grimaced. “Bleh.”
“Aw, well,” said America, not fazed by her reaction in the slightest. “Can’t like everything.”
Belarus rolled her eyes.

Hetalia!

A few days later, America decided to go and see Belarus again and bring her to a movie he thought she’d like. He knocked on the door, already eager to see her. “Hey, Bells! Wanna see a movie with me? It’s awesome, i really think you’d like it!”
Belarus opened the door, looking deadpan. “I can’t see a movie, I’m about to head out again and shop.”
“Ah…” America sweatdropped. “Maybe later, then?”
“Whatever,” said Belarus, waving a hand dismissively. “If you’re so eager to please me today, then go and put away the groceries on the counter for me. I’ll back back in a while.” With that, she pushed past him and walked down the street.
America chuckled. “Alrighty, Bells.” He went into the kitchen and looked at the small pile of groceries on the counter. He shrugged, dove into the bags and began to put all the cold foods into the fridge. He reached into another bag to get the freezer items when he noticed what exactly was in the bag. 
Two tubs of caramel toffee ice cream.

Sweaters, a PruHun fanshort by Mocha-san

((Author's Note: A little PruHun oneshot I had made out of pure urge to write some shipfic and lamenting over the utter tragedy behind Prussia and Hungary's relationship (if it is true that Prussia actually had a crush on Hungary, especially after years of being best friends, wouldn't her marriage to Austria hurt?). So, yeah? Enjoy.))

"Pick up! Pick up!" Hungary almost shouted at her cell phone, waiting for Ukraine to answer. She held it to her ear, listening to the dial tone. 
Privet! You've contacted Ukraine. I...I can't really answer right now, but...
Hungary ended the call and stomped her foot angrily. She hadn't had a lot of luck today; she had to cancel a get-together with Liechtenstein because of a stupid government meeting, got some news of economy cuts, missed her bus back to her home and now it was raining (she didn't bring a raincoat or an umbrella either). And not just any raining—raining hard.
She sighed deeply and stuffed her phone back into her pocket. Great—now she had no ride home. 
She stood there for a while, letting the raindrops soak her skin as they threw themselves down from the grey clouds above. It was dark and gloomy today. Oh, if only she could at least chat with Liechtenstein, or Taiwan, or even Austria...
"HEY~!"
Hungary's back straightened at the call. She knew that voice.
"Hey, Hungary! It's the awesome me!"
Hungary gave him a look. "What do you want, Prussia?"
"West is doing a bunch of boring business things so I decided to come and see my awesome little childhood friend!" said Prussia, grinning. Then, he noticed the disdain on her face. "Uh...what's going on with you?"
"I'm having a bad day," she said, putting her hands in her pockets. "As you can probably tell."
He could tell, but it just wasn't his style to just address the situation like that. "Uh...also, why are you randomly standing here in the rain? Without a coat or an umbrella or a poncho or whatever?"
"I was attending a meeting," Hungary grumbled. "It was perfect this morning so I didn't bother to grab a coat. I missed my bus and now I have to stand here until the next one comes along."
Prussia was silent for a minute. "Well...that's kind of unawesome..."
"You think?"
Prussia was quiet again, twirling the umbrella in his hands.
Hungary sighed. "You don't have to stay here with me, if that's what you're thinking."
Prussia looked like he was ready to counter that sentence, but he didn't say a word in the end.
Cue awkward silence.
Prussia was so deep in his train of thought he almost didn't detect the small sound of Hungary's teeth chattering. "You cold?"
"..." She didn't answer, but she did rub her arms a little. He took it as a yes.
He looked at his sweater—zip-open, snow white, with his flag's emblem on the right breast. He looked up at Hungary, who was standing there, glaring at the street as she shivered.
He shrugged off his sweater and held it out to her. "Here."
Hungary stared at the sweater, then at him. "Uh..."
"You put it on," said Prussia, a slight bit of humor in his voice.
Hungary raised an eyebrow, but took the sweater, putting it on quickly. She sighed in relief—from Prussia being in it, the sweater was nice and warm inside.
"Check it out," said Prussia, lightening up, "It even comes with this awesome hood!" He took the white hood and put it over her head, watching her give him slightly annoyed looks. "There! Now the rain can't bug you!"
Hungary savored the warm feeling of the sweater before giving him a smile. "You're very funny," she said pointedly. She laughed. "But thank you anyway."
"No prob," Prussia said, back to grinning.
As if on cue, Hungary spotted the bus home coming up the street. "Ah! Here's my bus." She began to take off the sweater. "Thank you, Pru—"
"No! Keep it!" Hungary looked up at Prussia, surprised by his sudden insistence. "I mean, I could always get a new one, you know. Plus, it'll keep you warm until you get home and get your own jacket. Just keep it."
Hungary's eyes were wide. "Um...why are you being so nice all of a sudden?"
"Because I really like..." Shut up, Prussia. "I mean, I didn't want you to get soaked getting to your house. That's really not awesome." Good, he covered.
Hungary gave him a strange look, but didn't have time to dwell on it; the bus was there. She nodded quietly, and smiled. "Thank you," she said softly, and boarded the bus, leaving him under the umbrella as the bus drove away.
He sighed lightly, and turned around, intending to go back home. Stay dry, Hungary.

The Dreaded Bucket List, a Hetalia fanshort by Mocha-san

((Author's Note: This is one of the many Asia-centered Hetalia oneshots I made. All the stories are viewable on FanFiction.net, if those of you are curious enough. BTW, all the "bucket list" ideas came a few websites suggesting things for bucket lists, so...yeah, enjoy.))

Kanademase KURENAI BEAT!
The sound of Asianesque electro pounded through Hong Kong’s room as he played with the turntables, head bobbing. He had taken time off to play with his brand new DJ set and was really having fun blasting the sound of Asiabeat through the entire second floor of the house.
The best part was, unless by some very tiny chance he was in a big enough bad mood to flip out on him, Hong Kong didn’t have to listen to China.
However, Hong Kong’s private rave session was interrupted with the loud THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP of shoes stomping down the hall.
Korea burst into the room, almost making the door fly off its hinges. “HONG KONG! WE HAVE A DESPERATE SITUATION, DA ZE!!”
Hong Kong took off his headphones. “What now? Like, can’t you see I’m busy?”
“Nonsense, da ze!” Korea said insistently, grabbing the front of Hong Kong’s shirt and rapidly shaking him. “England tricked me into tasting some of his food and now I only have 24 hours to live! THAT IS A BAD, BAD THING, DA ZE!!”
Hong Kong felt like the world was spinning for a moment as Korea roughly dropped him on the ground. “What...are you...talking about...Yong Soo?” he droned.
“I’m DYING, da ze!” Korea yelled, flailing his arms around. “You gotta help me, da ze! You’re my only hope!”
Once Hong Kong could see clearly, he gave Korea a blank look. “Don’t be stupid. We’re nations. Nations can’t be killed off by food.”
“But it’s England’s food, da ze,” said Korea. “England’s food can kill anything!”
Hong Kong felt his lips twitch. “Uh...then how do you explain my, like,  fifty years of eating the food he cooked?”
Korea fell silent for a second, taken by the argument. Then he insisted, “But you’re used to it! I’ve never had English food in my life! It could kill me!”
What a dork. Hong Kong rolled his eyes. Well...if Korea was going to stick to this belief all day, he might as well play along. “OK, fine. What do you wanna do?”
Korea grinned. “This.” He pulled a scroll out of hammerspace and let it unroll to Hong Kong’s feet. “Behold South Korea’s bucket list, da ze! Bucket lists originated in Korea!”
Hong Kong had an uncharacteristically weirded-out expression on his face at the sight of the list. “Seriously? All this? Seriously?”
Korea, not detecting Hong Kong’s utter opposition, nodded proudly. “Yep! This all the stuff I want to do before I die, da ze! Of course, being semi-immortal means you can be lazy with this, but since I only have 24 hours left I might as well!”
Hong Kong’s eye twitched. “Uh...have you told China about this?”
Korea smiled slyly. “Nope.” 
To Hong Kong’s utter confusion, the whole room darkened and a single spotlight shined on Korea, who was fake-sobbing into his sleeve. “I can’t do it, da ze! The news of my death...it would be so sudden! Aniki wouldn’t stand to lose me...like he lost his star-crossed lover Chun Li!” Korea theatrically struck a dramatic pose. “I could never remind aniki of such a horrible thing!”
Hong Kong turned off the invisible spotlight. “OK, one: Chun Li died from being shot in the chest with an arrow 3000 years ago, not because of English food. Two: we aren’t even supposed to mention her name in this house. Three: you’re not dying.”
“Says you, da ze!” Korea yelled, upset that his dramatic monologue had been ruined. “We are going to accomplish that bucket list whether you like it or not!”
Hong Kong crossed his arms. “And if I don’t?”
A sinister shadow passed over Korea’s face. “Or I’ll tell aniki that you watch Ni-hao KaiLan.”
Hong Kong visibly jolted. “OK, YOU TAKE THAT BACK!” he yelled, suddenly panicking. “AND I’M THE ONLY PERSON AROUND HERE THAT’S ALLOWED TO BLACKMAIL!”
“Shows what you know, da ze,” Korea said, an evil smirk on his face. “Blackmail originated in Korea.”
Hong Kong sighed. “Fine.”
“YES!” Korea cheered, jumping back into a happy demeanor. He picked up the list. “OK, the first item is…”

Hetalia!

“Cliff diving!”
Hong Kong looked over the very, very steep cliff to the teal water below. “Are you, like, sure about this?”
“When am I not sure?” Korea asked. The two were in Hawaii, standing at the top of a cliff in their swim trunks. While Korea was bouncing with excitement, Hong Kong was re-evaluating his life choices.
“Cliff diving. Very dangerous.” Korea whispered to himself, though Hong Kong could tell it was actually directed at him. “You first, Hong Kong!”
“Don’t you da--”
Korea randomly decided to push Hong Kong off the cliff. 
And then jump after him.
“YONG SOO, I SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU.”
“CAN’T, I’M ALREADY DYING, DA ZE!”
“DON’T SAY IT LIKE THAT!!”
SPLASH.
Hong Kong fought up to the surface, his brown hair covering his eyes. He blew it away and glared at Korea, who had come up and spit the water out. “Wasn’t that fun?”
“T’was not,” Hong Kong grumbled in his British accent.
“Next item is…” 

Hetalia!

“Take a selfie while hang-gliding over Rio!”
“How do you come up with this stuff?”
Korea was already in hang gliding gear, with Hong Kong next to him. “Are you ready?”
“To die? Then no,” said Hong Kong bluntly.
“Here we go! URI NARA MANSAE!”
Korea reared back and jumped off the cliff, making them soar into the sky. The scenery of the famous Rio floated underneath them. While Hong Kong did appreciate the view, he was more concerned about falling to his death.
“Quick, da ze! Get my cell phone!”
“What?!”
“Cell phone! Take selfie! Now!”
Hong Kong cautiously gave him the cell phone, praying.
Korea flipped open the phone and stuck his tongue out. “Cheese!”
“WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING!”
SMASH.
The two ended up diving too low and landed in a tree.
Hong Kong swung from the branches of a great pine, a very annoyed expression on his face. 
Korea was swinging next to him. “Check it out! I got it!” The picture indeed showed Korea making the face as Hong Kong was shouting his warning in the background. “You look so funny, da ze!”
Hong Kong was only hoping he had dragon powers like China.
“OK, the next item is…”

Hetalia!

“...air boat across alligator-infested waters!”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Nope!” Korea said cheerfully. He waved to shore. “Thanks for the boat ride, Australia!”
“Have a good time, mates!” Australia called, waving them off.
Korea started the engine. “Uri nara mansae!”
Then they were off.
Hong Kong was struggling to keep a cool facade as they sped across the lake, and Korea’s near-manic laughter really wasn’t helping. 
Hong Kong cautiously looked over the edge of the boat. 
There was a deep green shape moving around the water.
Holy mother of fire, the dork wasn’t actually kidding. 
That statement hit Hong Kong like a ton of bricks.
HE WASN’T ACTUALLY KIDDING.
“Hey, Hong Kong. How do I dock?”
Hong Kong could only say two words. “I’m dead.”
Luckily, Australia was nearby to save the two before Korea became an alligator snack.

Hetalia!

“Item #3: Ski the Alps in Austria!”
“You need professional help.”
The two were in ski gear at the very top of the Alps in Austria. Austria had only barely agreed to the idea, although in Hong Kong’s opinion he just happened to be in a good mood that morning.
“Are you ready, da ze?” Korea asked. 
“Ready to murder you? Sure,” said Hong Kong in a very dead tone.
“Aw, don’t be stuffy, da ze. We’re doing this for me!” 
Hong Kong was once again trying to channel dragon powers. Anything to beat Korea silly.
“Anyways, you first!” Korea once again pushed Hong Kong off.
Hong Kong desperately tried to steer, but skiing was one of the few things he had no idea how to do.
Especially when he was heading for a very thick tree.
CRASH.
Korea arrived two minutes later, actually knowing how to ski. “That was amaaaaaazing! Hong Kong, are you awake?”

Hetalia!

The next items on the list were less stupendous and stupid, but Hong Kong’s nerves were still frayed as they did them.
Item #4: Get a cream pie in the face.
“Are you sure?”
“Do it!” Korea said, bracing himself. “Ready for anything, da ze!”
Hong Kong couldn’t resist this one. With as much force as he could muster, he crammed the creamy pastry into Korea’s face.
“Uri nara mansae!
Item#8: Record your own album.
“OK, we’re on air,” said Hong Kong boredly. 
“Sore wa abunai zo, abunai zo! Bokura wa ue kara to hashiridashita~ minna wa tomete odoro machi! Isshou ni asobimashou!”
Item #15: Climb the Statue of Liberty.
Hong Kong couldn’t describe the utter weirdness of watching Korea literally sit on Liberty’s crown and scream “uri nara mansae”. With America joining him.
Item #28: Drive a motorcycle.
Hong Kong watched Korea zip around the place randomly in the motorcycle borrowed from  Prussia. 
“This...is...the...best...thing...ever...da...ze!” Korea yelled as he jerked here and there.
“Watch it before you…” SMASH. “...crash.”
Item #34: Ride on a sleigh.
“Thank you, Finland! Merry early Christmas, da ze!”
“No problem, guys!”
Item #47: Solve a Rubik’s cube.
“I bet you can’t solve it.” Hong Kong lazily tossed the cube to Korea, who caught it and immediately started solving it.
It was only ten minutes before Korea said, “Done!”
“HOW THE…”
Item #56: Drink a $1000 bottle of champagne.
Glug glug glug.
“I’m not paying for that.”
“I know you’re not, da ze. France is paying for it.” Glug glug glug.
“Plus, you know you’re not supposed to just drink it out of the bottle.”
Item #70: Go fishing. Awesomely.
“OK, do it.”
“Whatever you say,” said Hong Kong. He pulled a stick of dynamite out of his pocket and lit it, before tossing it as far into the water as possible. 
The two waited for a few minutes.
KABOOM.
The water exploded, sending dead fish every which-way. One of which landed right in Korea’s arms.
He grinned. “#70 is complete, da ze!”

Hetalia!

“Thank God it’s over.”
Korea looked somewhat somber as he retreated to his room. 
“Hey, aren’t you happy?” Hong Kong asked, arching a brow. “We finished the list.”
“Yeah, but I’m about to die any minute now,” said Korea. “My 24 hours has been reduced to 12 minutes.” He turned to Hong Kong. “Thank you for being my best friend, da ze. I will never forget you.” With that, he went upstairs.
Hong Kong was still incredulous, but a small nagging feeling of regret gnawed at him. What if Korea hadn’t been delusional?
“Hi, aru!” China greeted cheerfully, breaking the silence. “Where have you been? You’re a mess, aru.”
“Korea just finished his bucket list,” Hong Kong replied. “He ate England’s food and is convinced he’s dying.”
China blinked, then burst out laughing. “Are you kidding, aru? Even Korea isn’t that delusional, aru. Really, what happened, aru?”
“I’m not kidding. He thinks he’s really dying. And according to the clock,” Hong Kong looked at the clock over the TV, “He only has 10 seconds left.”
“Let’s see how this goes, aru.”
9…
8…
7…
6…
Hong Kong did have a small hope Korea was just being delusional.
5…
China cracked a small smirk.
4…
Hong Kong sighed.
3…
2…
1…
0.
Silence.
…
…
“Uh…”
THUMP THUMP THUMP CRASH. “GUYS GUYS GUYS I’M NOT DEAD AFTER ALL!”
“I knew it.”

Oriental Mind, a Hetalia fanshort by Mocha-san

((Author's Note: I haven't posted on here for a while. Alright, I think it's time I posted everything I've written in the past few months, because it has honestly been quite busy posting stuff on FF.net and I'm also planning to link stuff on Twitter. Being a writer is hard! Anyway, so in this story, I kind of go into an explanation of my headcanon that China can become a dragon when severely angered or other certain triggers (mentioning Chun Li in his presence can tend to set him off, too). Anyway, this is also partly based on the song "Oriental Mind" by Rin Ginsuke, too, so...yeah, enjoy.))

"GET BACK HERE, ARU!"
"Hahahaha~!"
China was chasing Korea around the house, waving his wok. Today, Korea had purposefully switched out China's clothes with women's qipaos, which turned out a very rude awakening for the sleepy Chinese man. 
Luckily, Korea wasn't too fast of a runner and ended up tripping, giving China the chance to give him a good wok smack.
Before he could do anything, though, Hong Kong casually walked into the room and slapped an envelope on the table, getting China's attention.
"Is that the mail, aru?"
"No," said Hong Kong. "It's a telegram. For you. From dad. Bye." And with that he grabbed his firecracker basket and ran out again. 
China, whose anger had gone somewhat because of the distraction, waved his hand dismissively to Korea. "You're free, aru. I'll kick your butt later, aru."
"Heck yeah, da ze!" Korea took the chance and went after Hong Kong while China picked up the letter. He slit the envelope open and read it, brown eyes widening with each word.

Dear China,
The reason why I'm even bothering to send you a telegram is to inform you that I have finally—yes, finally—found an antidote to that dragon curse I accidentally cast on you three months prior. I'm quite sure you know what I'm talking about.
The curse is entirely liftable by magic, of course, so whenever you're ready, come over. I'm home all day today, believe it or not.
Britain

China stared at the telegram almost incredulously before bursting into cheers. "YES! YES! THE OPIUM JERK FINALLY DID SOMETHING RIGHT, ARU!" He did a little happy dance in the middle of the room and dashed off to find out where Korea put his clothes.

Hetalia!

China excitedly knocked on England's door, bouncing slightly with his energy. 
England answered the door, already in his black magic cloak. "Ah, I knew it wouldn't take you long."
"Save it," China said shortly. "If you don't mind, can you please remove this stupid dragon curse from me, aru?"
"Alright, alright. Come in."
Within minutes, China was standing in England's amazing little magic circle. "Hurry up, aru! I wanna be normal, aru!"
"As if you were normal to begin with," England muttered, hoping China didn't hear. He raised his wand, and started chanting the magic words as the circle began to glow. Soon, the whole room went white, before fading out.
"There," said England, lowering the wand. "That should do it."
"I don't feel any different, aru," said China, scanning over himself briefly.
"Well, did you ever feel any different when you were normal and calm?"
"OK, good point, aru."
"Exactly," England deadpanned. "That was the reversal spell, however, and I made sure I had all of the spell so it doesn't turn out like the genderbend incident."
China rolled his eyes at the memory. "I don't usually trust you, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt for now, aru."
"You're so difficult."

Hetalia!

A month afterwards, usual business had commenced around the Wang household.
Which meant Hong Kong and Korea were being dorks again.
"Ohohohohoho!" Korea laughed, sitting on top of the couch because standing meant bonking his head on the ceiling. "I, the King of Evil, rule over this land with an iron fist, da ze! None shall oppose me, or they shall meet my friend the guillotine, da ze!"
"Stand down, King of Evil!" Hong Kong announced, brandishing a Minecraft sword. "You will surrender without a fight!"
"NEVER, DA ZE!"
"Would you guys quiet down, aru?" China said with annoyance. "I'm trying to cook, aru!"
"Sorry, da ze! But Hong Kong is trying to conquer my kingdom!"
"But your kingdom is a pile of pillows, a Shinatty-chan doll, a lightsaber and some scrolls."
"SHUT UP, DA ZE! HOW DARE YOU INSULT MY KINGDOM, DA ZE! YOU'RE GOING DOWN!"
"Bring it on, kimchi boy."
Cue tons of fighting, wrestling and screeching.
China was getting at his wit's end by this point. He slammed his hands down on the counter and walked into the living room, to see the ball of violence in the center. "I said to QUIET DOWN, aru!"
Hong Kong and Korea both looked up and flinched, eyes widening for a second.
China's temporary parent-mode ceased and he cocked his head at their slightly panicked expressions. "What?"
"Holy..."
"Did I..."
"Didn't England...?"
"No way..."
China was growing confused. "What? What's wrong, aru?"
Hong Kong's eyebrows knit together. "Did Dad cast that reversal spell correctly?"
"I assume so, aru. Why?"
"Your eyes are gold."
"WHAT?!" One trip to the mirror later, China stomped over to England's house.

Hetalia!

England was expecting another magical case to solve or maybe even America, but even America didn't pound on the door that hard. He answered the door. "Hullo?"
He immediately drew back once he saw the frazzled-looking, dragon-eyed China. "Oh, China! I didn't expect to see you. Wha—" 
He was cut off as a wok came down on his head. "I actually trusted you, aru! I gave you one simple job, to remove that curse, and yet you still screw everything up, aru!"
"What are you talking about?" England exclaimed, after recovering from the hit. "I made absolutely sure that that spell was correct! I checked everything I could to make sure everything was in place, complete, and ready! There was no way in hell that spell could've been messed up!"
"You...you..." China was ready to bring his wok down again when suddenly, something in his mind clicked into place, making him freeze.
"China...?"
China found himself unable to move as memories started flooding into his mind.

*******
The world was burning, or at least it felt like it to him. China ran through the debris of the battle and searched the sky, the smoke, the bloody ground, all for her.
"CHUN!" he called. "CHUN, WHERE ARE YOU?"
No answer, until a small voice cried, "I'm over here!"
He brightened instantly. He ran towards her, seeing her beautiful horns and tail glistening as he moved to her. He was so grateful—she was OK, and everything would be alright in the end...
Chun stood, smiling in happiness as he came, until something that changed everything happened.
BANG.
She had been shot.
Chun Li fell to the ground, her face turned into an expression of pain as she plummeted. She laid on the ground messily, her hair strewn over her face and her eyes closed.
China came to her body, eyes suddenly devoid of emotion. He wouldn't see her again. She was dead, she had died, she will never see him again...
He dropped to his knees in the sadness that came over him. She was gone.
Suddenly, there was light. A small bright blue light was peeking out from the sky, shining down on China and Chun like a spotlight. China stared at the light, bewildered. 
Suddenly, a shape started coming out of the light. It was long and snakelike, running down towards the ground where the dead girl lay. China realized what it was instantly.
A dragon. A Chinese dragon with pearly blue-white scales and a long tail. 
Just like Chun.
"Ch-Chun?" China croaked.
The dragon did not speak, but the voice was there. "Thank you, Yao. Thank you for getting me to believe in myself, to know what it truly feels like to be loved, wanted, and happy. I will never forget you." 
One of the dragon's long whiskers were placed on China's forehead, much to his bewilderment.
"As my thanks, I have brought you a gift," said dragon-Chun. "I herenow bless you with the fire dragon's spirit, a form after your own heart." China felt a hard surge of power run through his body as the dragon's whisker began to glow.
The whisker was removed, and dragon-Chun said, "I have to go now. I love you, Yao. I always will."
Then, the dragon turned and started soaring for the sky, back into the blue light.
China chased after her, a hand outstretched. "No, Chun! Don't leave me! Please, I'll be all alone without you! CHUN, DON'T GO! WO AI NI! WO AI NI!!"
The dragon did not seem to hear. It soared up into the light and faded, leaving the dirty red sky.
China stood there, grief surging through his form. Chun Li, the half-dragon, was gone. She would never come back. And because he lived forever, he would never be able to die and see her again.
He grasped his head in his hands, tears spilling from his eyes. 
The eyes that were now golden, like a dragon.
And then he threw his head back and screamed.

*******
"CHINA! CHINA!! GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!"
China found himself being shaken by England, who started freaking out upon seeing China's utterly blank, faraway expression. And then keeling over.
China blinked and stared up at England, his eyes filled with sudden remembrance and tragedy. "Ah...yes...I remember now, aru..."
"What? Remember what? Tell me!"
"Stop shaking me and I'll tell you."
England released him and pulled up some chairs for them as China began to explain. 
"Many centuries ago, before I even found Japan, I met a girl. The girl had horns, gold eyes and a tail, just like a dragon's, aru. I had found her attempting to kill herself in an alleyway, and she explained that she was proclaimed to be a devil because of her horns and tail. I, knowing how I was a nation and wasn't human either, sympathized with her and helped her become happy again, aru. But...in the war...she was shot...and her dragon's spirit was released..." He took a deep breath. "Before she passed, she gave me the fire dragon's soul. That's why I have these abilities, aru..." The look on China's face was one of remorse.
England was shocked. More shocked than China had seen him be in a very long time. "Dear me..."
China stood up, smiling sadly. "I know now why all this happened. I had that power dormant all these years, I even forgot about it when I found Japan. You must have woken it up again, aru." He turned to leave. "I'm sorry I accused you like that, aru. It was wrong of me. I'll be going now, aru."
England stared after him as he left, still bewildered. It was days like these when suddenly he didn't see an annoyingly scary Asian with girly tendencies.
He saw an old, troubled soul that endured years of wisdom.

Hetalia!

China listened to the gentle swaying of the bamboo in the wind as he walked the path to his house. He didn't feel anything; he hardly felt the breeze at his back. No, he was too busy thinking, remembering. Mourning.
China sighed. He was such an idiot—he knew he would never forget about Chun, even when he really tried. The fact that he was suddenly reminded of that grim day really gnawed at his heart, cursing the ways of the world somewhat.
He chuckled grimly. "Me and this old, oriental spirit of mine," he joked to himself, staring up at the gray clouds.
He continued down the path, giving farewell to those old memories.

The Wacked-Up Romances of Len, Chapter 4, a fanfic by Mocha-san

"Did you see that?!" Rin exclaimed as she and Miku went back to the lunchroom. "They were blushing! Blushing, I tell you! I think we're on to something! Maybe…just maybe…he likes her!"
"I think you're overreacting, Rin-chan," Miku commented nicely, though she felt something tug at the edge of her mind.
Mind you, Miku was a very nice girl—she was proud of the fact that she frequently disproved her classmates' assumptions that she was a stuck-up brat. However, something inside her was kind of opposed to the idea of Len falling in love with Luka. It felt…wrong.
"Maybe we should set them up or something! Come up with a plan! Ya know, become the Matchmaking Maids!"
"Rin…"
"All we need to do is make sure Luka likes him, too! This will be fun!"
"Rin…!"
"Maybe we should get Kaito to help us, too! He'll definitely help!"
"RIN!"
"What's up?" Rin looked at Miku, who was looking rather put out.
"Listen, I think I'll step out of this matchmaking business," said Miku carefully. "Maybe this is silly, after all. Luka probably doesn't like Len. Not like that. They're probably just friends. That's all." Miku clutched her bag and started walking away. "I…I think I better go to class now."
Rin stared after her, thinking. Then, a Cheshire Cat grin spread over her face.

★★★Bokkaroido!★★★

Miku was surprised when she saw Kaito sitting alone at lunch the next day. "Kaito-kun? Where's Rin-chan and Len-kun?"
"Rin-chan is with her friends," Kaito replied, "Len-kun is over at that table, with Megurine-san."
Miku turned her head to see Len and Luka laughing at a table in the corner. Len was talking animatedly while Luka giggled. Miku felt that tug again. Why was Len being so friendly to her?
Miku shook herself. She shouldn't be thinking like that. It was mean, selfish and out of character.
But it wouldn't hurt to sit with them, too, would it?
She gave a quick bye to Kaito and went over the table, her heart thumping.
"Hi, Miku!" Len waved, scooting so she could sit next to him.
"Hey, Len," said Miku, taking a seat. She faced Luka, who was smiling pleasantly.
"Hi, Miku-san," said Luka softly, pushing up her glasses.
"Hello, Luka-san," Miku said, her voice coming out a bit harder than she had intended. Luckily, Luka didn't seem to notice.
Miku found out that Len had been telling Luka about their performance a few days before. Miku smiled—she was glad he liked her singing.
"I'm sure Miku must have written that song herself," said Len cheerfully. "Right, Miku?"
"Y-yeah," said Miku, her cheeks reddening. "It's called Two Breaths Walking."
"That's amazing!" said Luka. "I would have loved to see that."
"But don't give me all the credit!" Miku said, wrapping her arm around Len's neck. "Len played an amazing guitar solo. I might have sung it well but Len played the music better than I could!"
"Hehe," said Len, scratching the back of his head. "Stop that, Miku-chan! You're making me blush."
"That's the point!"
Luka smiled. These two were so cute. Yet, she could feel the smallest twinge of jealousy in the pit of her stomach.
"By the way, Luka-san," said Len, "Can you sing? I've never heard you sing before."
"Oh no!" Luka said, shaking her head. "I…I have a hard time singing in front of people. I'd rather be a songwriter than a singer."
"I bet you'd sound great, though, Luka!" Len supported. "You have everything—the looks, the personality, and even a fanclub! Your voice is probably awesome."
Luka turned away, blushing. "Quit that. I'm not so special."
Miku felt another twinge, this one stronger. Stop doing that, Len. Stop making her like you.
Before Miku could say anything, though, the bell rang.

★★★Bokkaroido!★★★

After the final bell, Len was on his way to fetch Rin from the cafeteria, as she always liked to stay and help clean up. The one charitable thing she did, he might add.
He walked the halls, whistling Miku's song to himself. He didn't know why, but he felt a lot of tension in the air during lunch. It was like Miku and Luka were…rivals or something. It was kind of weird.
However, as he walked, he suddenly heard a voice.
A singing voice.

Anata no koto ga suki desu. Uso desu.
Dakedo hontou wa…
Nnnnnn~

Intrigued, Len sped up, hearing the singing get louder.

Anata no koto ga kirai desu. Uso desu.
Datte hontou wa…
Nnnnnnn~

It was coming from the black box theater. Curious, he peeked inside.
It was Luka.
Her voice was melodic and husky, like fine perfume. She was casually fiddling with the microphone, apparently fixing it up so it could be put away.

Sunao ni narenai, yuuki ga tarinakute
Uso tsuite bakka, neko kaburi
Itsu no manika, watashi ni naka ni iru
Etto, eto, e…e Toeto.

Len was astounded. Luka was dead wrong at lunch time. She was someone special.

Daiji na koto, tsutaeru no kanigata na Toeto
Otonashikute, hazukashii gariyasan na Toeto
Kakurete iru no.
Hontou na kimochi ga tsutaetai kedo,
Mojimoji Toeto ga sore wo kobamu
Kokozo to iu toki uiza to iu toki
Eto, eto, ano, eto, ano e Toeto.
Kao makka Toeto.
Eto, eto, cetera.

Luka had finally fastened the microphone and moved it to the corner, not noticing Len staring at her from the doorway.

Gomen ne to namida nagashi
"Watashi wo sei de" to Toeto
Sonna koto nai yo, nakanaide Toeto.
Sonna anata ga daisuki yo.

Her voice lowered for a minute as she unplugged all the mics.

Hontou no kimochi wo tsutaetai kedo,
Mojimoji Toeto ga sore wo kobamu
Kokozo to iu toki, aizu ga iu toki
Eto, eto, ano, eto, ano e Toeto.
Hontou ni, hontou ni tsutaetai toki
Mojimoji Toeto wo yuuki wo dasu.
Kokozo to iu toki, aizu ga iu to i
Eto, eto, ano, eto, ganbaru, Toeto.
Watashi ni naka no.
Ganbaru, Toeto.

"That was amazing! You sound great!!" Len cheered, utterly forgetting he was supposed to hide.
Luka whipped around, face tomato red (ironically, she just sang such). "H-how long have you been standing there?!!"
"I heard your voice!"
Luka squeaked. She glared at him. "Why were you spying on me?"
"You sounded amazing, that's why! You're not Miku-chan, but…"
"Stop!" Luka said angrily. "I don't like singing when people are watching!"
"But there's nothing to be ashamed of!" Len argued.
"Len-kuuuuun!" Luka said exasperatedly, running over to shoo him out. "Go away!"
"But…"
Suddenly, Luka hit her foot on the table leg, making her trip. "What--?!"
"Aaaaah!" Len yelled as Luka fell onto him.
The two hit the floor, Len and Luka both getting their breath knocked out from the impact. Luka raised herself, looking down at him.
Len blushed. Her glasses were off.
"Uh…"
"What's going on here? GAH!"
Len looked up from the floor.
It was Miku, red-faced and shaking.
"M-M-Miku-chan!!"
"LEN-KUN, LUKA-SAN! WHAT IS THIS?!"
Luka suddenly noticed the comprimising position they were in. "Miku-chan, this isn't what it looks like!"
Too late. Miku had already fled the room, screaming her head off.
Len and Luka scrambled to their feet and ran out of the classroom, embarrassed beyong belief.
"Miku-chan…" Len gasped. Luka frowned.
Rin popped her head from the end of the hall. "What did you do now?"

The Wacked-Up Romances of Kagamine Len, Chapter 1, a fanfiction by Mocha-san

((Guys. I'm starting a Len-centric Vocaloid harem fic. This should be great fun for all of us. Ohohoho.))


"Leeeeeen!"
Len turned over in his bed.
"Len! Lenny-Lenny-Len-Len! Wake up!"
Len put his pillow over his head.
"Len~! If you don't get up, you'll be late!"
Len didn't budge.
"Kagamine Len, if you don't get up RIGHT NOW I will break this door."
"Alright, alright!" Len shouted through the door. "Geez, Rin, why do you have to be so abrasive?"
"It's in my job description," said Rin smartly. "Now get up and get your butt downstairs."
Len stayed in bed until he could tell Rin was back in the kitchen. He sighed; he loved his little sister, really he did, but dear GOD, she could be annoying. Sibling rivalry ahoy.
He willed himself out of bed and put on his school uniform. When he headed down the stairs, he was greeted by the smell of banana pancakes. His favorite.
"I don't understand you," said Len, taking a seat at the table, "One minute, you're threatening to do me bodily harm, and the next, you're giving me banana pancakes. What gives?"
"Oh, shut up," Rin scolded. "At least I try to be nice to you."
"Tsundere."
"Bonehead."
"Stubborn."
"Idiot."
The siblings stopped their name calling long enough to eat (Rin's typical breakfast being toast with orange marmalade, orange juice, orange slices and some orange-flavored vitamin chews), so they were silent for a while. Before long, though, it was time to go to school.
Crypton City High.
"Bye, loser-Len!" Rin shouted as she went to go hang out with her own friends.
"Bye, repulsive-Rin!" Len shouted back.
"You really like teasing her, don't you?"
Len turned around to see his best friend Kaito Shion. Kaito was older than Len and already had a girlfriend. Even when Len's opinion was that ice cream was Kaito's true girlfriend. "Oh, hey, Kaito."
As usual, Kaito had his scarf and vanilla ice cream in hand. "Good morning~"
"No ridiculous family stories today?"
"Not yet," Kaito replied, sweatdropping. Kaito lived with a total of 8 siblings: 7 brothers and a sister. Kaito really liked them, but, like Rin, they could be the most overbearing people on Earth.
Len cracked a smirk. "Aww, I like your stories." He turned towards the school. "Welp, we better head inside before the be—"
WHUMP.
Len suddenly collided with another person, making him fall onto his rump. He shook off the surprise and opened his mouth to give a piece of his mind, but he couldn't.
A cute girl.
More accurately, the school idol.
Hatsune Miku.
HATSUNE FREAKING MIKU.
"Ah…" Len could tell he was in some deep water now.

Sleepy, a HibiMomo fanshort by Mocha-san

((Author's Note: OK, people. Make way for the bombardment of ficlets I'm going to post here. HibiMomo, KeroNatsu, Fluttercord and maybe some SonMiku will pop up around here. (Mind you, I am a very unique shipper. Don't expect popular pairings. Seriously. Don't.
Mind you, this might be a little OOC because this was written before I watched Mekakucity Actors and got a good grasp of how the characters are. Sorry.))

Tuesday, 2: 36 A.M.
Momo Kisaragi was fast asleep in bed, getting a much needed rest after doing rehearsal for her concerts. Her manager said she could have a day off the next day, though, so Momo intended to sleep till noon.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
Momo heard her phone buzzing, making her have to force her eyes open. "Ah…?"
She lazily reached out a hand and groped around her nightstand, trying to find the ringing cell phone. Eventually, her hand touched the cool plastic cover and she picked it up, looking at the number.
"Hi…biya…Ama…mi…ya…" she mumbled, gazing at the phone through tired eyes.
Suddenly, her eyes flipped open. "Hibiya-kun!" Pressing the "talk" button, she held the phone to her ear. "What's up, Hibiya-kun? Are you okay? Why so early?"
"Kisaragi-chan…" Hibiya said groggily on the other side of the line, "C-could you come over? I…i can't sleep."
Momo stayed silent a minute, then giggled.
"What are you giggling for?" Hibiya asked.
"Aw, you want Momo-senpai to come and help wittle ol' you go to sleep?" Momo joked. "Well, never fear! I'll be there soon."
"Urg." Hibiya was too tired to say something witty.
Momo closed the phone and got out of bed, changing into a T-shirt, hoodie and jeans. She dashed out of her house and ran down the street, hoping to catch a quick bus to where the 8th Mekakushi Dan member lived.
 ★★★★★
Hibiya was in bed, moping, when Momo opened the door. "I have arrived~!" she said cheerfully.
"About time, obaasan," said Hibiya, laying on his stomach.
"Oh, you're just grumpy," said Momo, taking a seat on the bed. "So, what do ya what me to do? Read you a story?"
"Too childish," said Hibiya.
"Sing you a lullaby?"
Hibiya's cheeks went a little pink, but shook his head anyway.
"Get you a drink? Get you a snack? Get in and cuddle with you if need be?"
Hibiya's face got redder with each offer. It was obvious she was trying to embarrass him on purpose. "Could you just stay here?"
"Eh?" Momo quipped. "What do you mean?"
"Could you stay until…I fall asleep?"
"That's it?" Momo asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why would you just want me to stay here? How does that help make you fall asleep?"
"Because…because…" Hibiya mentally facepalmed as he blurted, "Because I feel better when you're here!"
Momo blinked.
"I just thought that I…maybe if you came over, it'd help…" Hibiya said lowly. He cheeks were burning hot.
Momo blinked again, and then she started to laugh. "OK, then! I'll stay!" Then, she lightly pushed him back into bed and tucked him in before getting comfortable next to him.
Hibiya closed his eyes. Think about nice people, he thought. Think about Hiyori. Think about Momo.
Think more and more about Momo and how she's sitting right next to you.
Dangit.
He opened his eye a sliver and looked at the girl staring out the window. She was smiling, eyes big and bright.
Hibiya knew he had come to terms with the heat haze, that he had finally began to move on from Hiyori's death. Momo had been there, telling him that he just needed to be positive and think about the future.
Too bad "future" meant "getting a crush on Momo Kisaragi".
With that thought in his head, though, he felt himself drift off to sleep.


Tuesday, 10:07 A.M.
Hibiya opened his eyes, expecting to find bright yellow light in his room and Momo already gone home.
What he did NOT expect was white light filling his room and Momo fast asleep next to him.
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"
Momo woke up with a start, seeing Hibiya all the way on the other side of the room.
"W-what the hell were you doing?!" Hibiya yelled.
"I was tired and you looked so comfortable so I crashed right here!" Momo retorted.
"Don't you have rehearsal or something?!"
"Today's my day off!"
Hibiya blinked, then shook his head in exasperation. "You are such a moron."
"And that is exactly why we're friends!" Momo said with a grin.

Faded August, a poem by Mocha-san

((Author's Note: Presenting poem #2. Now I can get back to writing adorable HibiMomo and Fluttercord oneshots since I feel better.))

August summer
Wind blowing in the trees
I'm alone in my room
bored
as usual, of course

Summer's end…
"It'll be here soon…"
I think
as I watch the orange sunlight
disappear

I don't feel sad
but I'm not happy either
I wonder what they call that
Those kinds of emotions
Are they good?

I only have the silence
in this
faded August afternoon

Silver, a poem by Mocha-san

((Author's Note: I was sick last night. So, after that, I spent the afternoon questioning life and dozing in bed. As I was doing so, I decided to write some free verses. Here is #1.))

Silver.
Like a star
or maybe a moon
somewhere in the sky.
I don't know.

Silver.
A shiny grey
that reminds me of
an old key
hidden in a drawer.
I don't know.

Silver.
A dazzling sparkle
that looks like the flash
of a newly carved diamond
found in an old cave.
I don't know.

Silver.
It decorates many things
and treasures
that I probably won't have.
I don't know.

Signed, the Patchwork Scholar, a short story by Mocha-san

((Author's Note: I wrote this piece one night when I couldn't sleep and had on "Fly Me Away" by Annie Little. It's sort of philosophical on one side while biographical on the other. Aw, well. Enjoy.))

To whom it may concern...

 

I always thought it was a little cliche to write down everything going on in your head, but if anything, writing down these thoughts of mine are probably good, anyway. Ah, what a funny world this is. Haha. Yeah right.

Anyway, if you expected some sappy, overly tragic tale of lost love, crumpled notes and stomped dreams, then put this back where you found it. I hate the prospect of rubbing my personal tradgedies in everyone's faces because I want someone to pity me. That's pathetic.

No, this letter is those who always wondered why those books were written by the barely-15 Patchwork Scholar, and what exactly that name meant. 

Is this a backstory? Probably. I'd call it a memoir, not a backstory. I mean, really. Calling your past a freaking backstory? Um, no thank you.

So, let's get down to business shall we?

No, I'm not telling you about my early life. My life as a toddler and such is none of your business. Besides, if I wanted you to know, I would've said it to you in person! It's called logic.

Let's start after I published my second novella. Back then, my deadlines, pressure, writer's block and dedication had ended up in losing all my friends, whether they were good friends or not. I was very lonely and frustrated, and I felt trapped in that stupid office all day. It was driving me crazy. 

Yearning for some excitement, I asked my agent, Callie, to send me to London. I needed to unwind and I wasn't planning on writing another book anytime soon, and it might even be good for me. "Please, Callie?" I begged. "You know how depressed I've been. Don't you think it would help? And I love travel! Please?"

After some more grovelling, Callie finally agreed to let me go and live in London for a while. She and my agency pulled some strings as a means to let me travel alone, though I was only 13. Eventually, I was given reason and I went off to my new destination, hoping for some peace.

I had a small house to myself for my stay. My agent kept track of me by giving me a phone, and she called every morning and evening to check up on me. I was a little annoyed at first, but I knew she meant well so I didn't mind eventually.

 The first week, I basically did whatever I felt like. I toured shops, ate at resturaunts and went home to read, sleep or fool around on my laptop. For the first time in a while, I truly felt content. It was a nice feeling.

My life really changed in the second week, though.

I made a friend.

It was raining that day. Then again, I had always been told that it rained a lot in England, so I kind of expected it. I didn't mind too much, since I had a nice umbrella with me. I was going home after a tiring day of walking, and was minding my own business. 

However, I passed an alleyway as I walked, and suddenly, I encountered a big, angry dog. It growled menacingly at me, as if it were angry that I was being there. I liked dogs, but I got a bad feeling from this one and ran. I was in such a frenzy to get away that I tripped on a rock near a dirt path and tumbled into a muddy patch of grass at the bottom of a hill. The dog had seen my trip, but since I was no longer in its way, it left.

So, I was left in the downpour, soaking and sad and scared. At first, I just sat there, crying. When I finished crying, I got up and walked down the path, curious to see where it lead.

I walked for a long time. I didn't know where I was going, after all. I didn't know another way home and I was scared to face the dog again, so I just kept pressing on.

Eventually, I arrived at a huge house. It was so beautiful and regal! It looked just like a mansion! 

Curious, I walked up to the front door and stood still a second. Was it even lived in? I had no idea. Maybe it was haunted! That would've been cool. But not a place to stay forever. 

So I knocked.

The door opened to reveal a pretty young woman with big green eyes and silky dark brown hair. When she saw me standing on her porch, dripping and miserable, she immediately yanked me inside. She drew a bath and gave me some warm clothes, and after I had washed up and changed she hurried me into the kitchen for some pumpkin muffins. 

She asked for my name, so I told her. Elise. She suddenly jumped, noticing that I was the young American author everybody talked about. She said she liked my books, to which I felt flattered. 

She introduced herself as Bridget Walters. She was 24 years old and had inherited this huge house as a gift from her late mother. I gave my condolences and asked if she had any other family. Bridget told me that she only had a sister, who lived in Wales. 

After I ate, I asked Bridget if she could help me get home. I told her my address, and she told me that my house was a block over. I asked if she could escort me, so she put on a raincoat and walked me down the street to my home. She invited me for tea and biscuits (cookies to the typical American), which I gladly accepted before saying goodbye.

That was how I became such good friends with Bridget. We'd talk all the time and we enjoyed each other's company. She told me all about the house and herself, like how she once spilled tea all over her pet cat once. That was really funny. 

I told her all about my life and myself, and what I strung-together self image I had. She listened intently and set down her cup when I finished my explanation.

"You know," she said, "You're very interesting. You talk like you're arrogant but act all shy, while in reality you're just lonely. What a curious thing."

"Curious indeed," I muttered.

"I could compare you to a patchwork quilt," she said thoughtfully. "Made up of many different things at once, but still kept together by those threads. You're a patchwork girl, Elise."

That's when it struck me.

After having tea with Bridget, I hurried home, got out some paper and began a new manuscript. I called it Words Like Patchwork, and didn't stop writing until I fell asleep at my desk. 

The book was based off Bridget and that wonderful house, set in the 1800s or something like that. I spent two months writing it, sitting at my desk for hours every day, writing.

Eventually, I handed it to Callie and it was published. Bridget was overjoyed, and she couldn't express how proud she was. It made me feel good, to have done that. 

After that day, I took a look at my mismatched, cobbled-together personality and gave myself a new name.

Patchwork Scholar.

It's been a year now, and I've returned to America. I feel truly accomplished in that I made someone else happy, and that was good enough for me. I adopted a snarky streak as a way to spice up myself, and even sewed myself a patchwork coat as a statement to my pen name. It felt great, knowing I had this new life.

So, to conclude, I write this letter to show how happy I am that I worked so hard. I'm about to leave for France, and who knows what I'll meet there. I'll leave this letter in my office, so I'll have something interesting to think about on my stay. Did anyone read the letter? Maybe. I might never know.

You know what? I think I could be OK with that.

 

Signed,

The Patchwork Scholar

Dodgeball, a fanshort by Mocha-san

((Author's Note: A small short featuring my original character Fern Midori (a hotblooded Tsundere that has a crush on Sonic) and Sonic (human design by me). They're always arguing with each other so I thought i'd put up this little writing doodle.))


There were many things the members of Team World Adventure rivaled each other on. Sonic rivaled Ryn on Chaos power. Fern rivaled Sonic on most everyday things. Milkshake rivaled Buttermilk on cooking. Milkshake rivaled Ryn on magic. Usually, these rivalries were subtle, not something to worry about. It was often Sonic and Fern who made rivalry end in people's heads getting stuffed into flowerpots and such. You get the idea.
Today, it seemed another rivalry had come up between the redheaded islander and the blue speedster.
Dodgeball.
Sonic and Fern stood at other sides of the court, emerald eyes trained on lime. Fern glared at him with such intensity Sonic chuckled at the iciness of it. The red ball was tucked under the redhead's arm, her hand on her hip.
"Are you ready?"
"If you are."
Fern raised the dodgeball, staring deep into the emeralds across the court. "Well, then! Prepare to meet the Ultra Mega Deluxe Dodgeball of Destruction!" Throwing all her weight into the ball, she pitched the dodgeball with a surge of energy.
Sonic, however, lived in a world where velocity basically meant nothing. He watched the ball advance towards his face, a brow raised and eyes half-lidded. Then, with a quick slide of his left foot he sashayed to the right, and the ball raced right past his head. The ball bounced roughly off the back wall and retreated, now heading straight for the girl at the opposite end of the court.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOO---"
SMACK.
The ball hit Fern's head with absolute precision and sent her careening into the concrete below. The ball bounced twice and laid still, innocent of any offense.
Sonic grinned and walked towards Fern, who now had an angry red mark on her forehead. "You were saying?"
"You know what? Shuddup."
Sonic laughed. "Okay, we can play something else."

Music, a KeroNatsu fanshort by Mocha-san

((Author's Notes: A short for KeroNatsu. Not to be taken seriously.)


"Natsumi-dono! Natsumi-dono!"
Natsumi Hinata looked up from the dinner she was making to see Keroro running up with a bunch of CDs in hand. "What's up, stupid frog?" she asked.
"I thought I could put on a CD for us to listen to while making dinner!" Keroro explained excitedly.
"Hmm," said Natsumi, "OK. The boom box is over there." She pointed to the gray boom box sitting on the counter.
Keroro put the CDs down and found a stool. He propped up the stool so he could climb onto the counter and took out a CD and opened the case. "Let's listen to some Techno music. It'll help us work faster."
"Um, no?" Natsumi said. "Play some jazz. It's softer."
Keroro looked indignant. "Techno can be soft too!"
"No it can't," said Natsumi. "Come on. Jazz music."
"No! I like techno!"
Natsumi turned, getting into his face.
"Jazz."
"Techno."
"Jazz!"
"Techno!"
"JAZZ!"
"TECHNO!"
Chu.
Natsumi had leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. Keroro's entire face went red.
"GERO!"
Natsumi smirked. "Now what do you want to listen to?"
"J-jazz," Keroro stammered.
Natsumi laughed. "That's what I thought."

Tomorrow, Before the Rain, a flash fiction by Mocha-san

((Author's Note: A short flash fiction story inspired by "Ame ga Furu Mae Ni" by Millstones. Short, sweet, and thoughtful.))



Kaydence watched the sun swim overhead as she walked through the busy streets of the city. There were numerous dark clouds surrounding the yellow ball of light, but Kaydence tried to ignore them. It was hard, though—the weatherman on TV had said a light rainstorm would come today.
Umbrella in hand, Kaydence waltzed through the crowds of people walking through. Everything was normal and happy, other than the occassional darkness from the clouds passing by.
Kaydence pondered over the weather, but eventually another thought came to mind.
They say that life has storms pass through, too.
She knew what that meant. It meant that life had its hardships that you had to endure. Unfortunately, though, storms in life weren't exactly like weather storms—you knew when a weather storm was coming. The weatherman would tell you so you know you had to expect it. Life wasn't that easy.
Kaydence had been through life's storms before. Like, when she had lost that big soccer game last fall. Or when she lost touch with her friend Averill, whom she'd known since kindergarden. Or when she tried to climb that tree in the woods and broke her arm.
But she survived those storms. The "sun" would always come out eventually, wouldn't it? That's what optimism was for, right?
Kaydence could say that during those storms, she had an umbrella to keep her from getting too wet.
She was so lost in her thoughts she almost didn't notice the sky getting darker. She almost didn't notice when it started to drizzle.
Kaydence eventually snapped out of her meditation and looked at the drops falling from the sky.
She raised her umbrella, smiled and kept walking, knowing that no matter how many storms she went through, life would be sunny again.