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tahnex · 4 years

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Road to Graduation Chapter 4

Return of the Vytal Tournament!

“The Vytal Tournament is back?!” Ruby almost squealed in happiness.

“Well it will have been two years since it last took place, is it in Mistral this time?” Weiss forgot all about Ruby’s cloak and leaned forward to check.

Blake noticed Yang’s face tighten slightly, and she started to say “Yang...”

Weiss however, having seen it was indeed in Mistral, had checked the time on her scroll. “We’re going to be late! We CANNOT be late on our first day back, come on!” She threw the door open and rushed out, Ruby hot on her heels. Yang sighed and followed them.

Blake put the flyer to one side and caught up to Yang. Blake slipped her hand into Yang’s and gave it a quick squeeze, “We’ll talk about it later ok? We don’t have to enter.”

Yang smiled at Blake and squeezed her hand back, before letting go and they hurried up to catch Ruby and Weiss.

Yang looked at Ruby and Weiss, wondering if they were still happy they’d rushed to get to class on time considering that over half had been spent listening to Professor Port regale them about the time he “Single-handedly fought an entire pack of Manticores, seven of the beasts, each trying to take his life!” Even Weiss’ eyes had glazed over, and Yang wasn’t too far behind. Like most of Professor Port’s lessons, his stories never seemed to be close enough to what it was like actually dealing with the real thing, especially as they had dealt with a large pack on the train to Argus. Yang knew she wouldn’t have been able to deal with the whole pack on her own, so added this story to the ever-increasing list of exaggerations by Professor Port.

Blake spotted a note Yang slid over to her, “Maybe if he actually focused more on teaching what they’re like and how to fight them instead of boasting about his imaginary kills we’d actually learn something in his class”

Blake smirked and nodded to Yang; Professor Port’s long tales were punctuated by occasional bits of knowledge that were actually useful. The problem was trying to stay awake whilst listening to the rest...

“...and, as the beast reared its head, red eyes glinting in the Winter sun...” The bell rang, cutting him off mid-stream, and nearly everyone jolted awake and started rummaging to leave. “Ah. Is class over already? Five pages on Manticore tactics and how your team would defeat a pack. On my desk by Friday!” The room seemed to nod as they headed for the door, “I’ll need to shorten the story if I’m to fit it in next class, maybe cut down on the Grimm? No, that won’t work...” Professor Port was muttering to himself as he walked back to his desk, but barely anyone paid his murmurings any notice, and even those who did knew he wouldn’t change his stories, none of them had heard how a single one ended yet, and nobody expected that to change any time soon.

The other lessons were more useful, Dr Oobleck’s history lesson, covered Mountain Glenn, an area team RWBY had visited with him in their first year, in more detail, albeit spoken at a speed only Weiss could make notes on out of the four of them. Professors Peach, Goodwitch, Mulberry, and Greene’s lessons were also much more useful.

Professor Peach covered various herbs that could be used to help heal small wounds; Professor Goodwitch took them through some sparring exercises and practice fights, instructing them on how to improve; Professor Mulberry covered a brief reintroduction to weapon maintenance and upkeep, focusing on barrels in guns (making sure to let Ruby know he was thrilled she had returned - it was no secret to anyone that Ruby was Professor Mulberry’s favourite student, considering the loving care she gave Crescent Rose); and Professor Greene worked them over with stealth, Blake earning praise from her for being able to creep up on Yang at every time of asking.

“Okay! Lessons are all done, can we now discuss how we’re going to kick serious ass at the Vytal Tournament?” Ruby looked at Weiss for permission, knowing the white-haired girl was the most likely to object to not doing homework straight away.

Potentially surprising to Ruby was that beneath the calm front Weiss showed as she shrugged saying “You’ll only keep getting distracted if we don’t, so yes, fine,” she was actually fired up and ready to enter, and ready to win.

Yang on the other hand, was the exact opposite, despite saying “Yes, let’s do this!” and putting on an excited front, she was not up for it at all. Yang was feeling very conflicted about competing in the tournament, she could see Ruby was ecstatic about the chance to fight in the tournament again, and whilst Weiss kept up the cool attitude…ha!...if her attitude at the last tournament was anything to go by she was almost as excited as Ruby was. Yang however was not excited. She was, although she didn’t want to admit it (even to herself), a bit scared. Last time she’d fought in the tournament some little…well someone had messed with her head and made her see and do something that she would NEVER do. She remembered the looks on the faces of the crowd as they judged her. In their eyes she was a monster. She couldn’t be with their team in the tournament again and put the others through that, she just couldn’t.

Blake’s voice cut through Yang’s thoughts as it always did, “I don’t know about competing this time.”

The reaction from the other three girls was immediate and identical: jaws dropped, eyes wide, words frozen on the ends of their tongues.

“WHAT?!” Weiss nearly screamed at Blake, and Blake’s ears, already slightly low, flattened completely against her hair, and Yang immediately stepped forwards, fists balling slightly.

“Weiss!” Ruby had also not liked her partner’s tone, and turning to see Ruby’s face, with a surprisingly stern look on it, made Weiss immediately feel awkward, and Blake’s defensive pose made it worse.

“I’m sorry for shouting. I overreacted.” Weiss looked at Blake directly, and even Ruby seemed surprised by the quick change. Yang’s surprise must have shown on her face because Weiss looked at her, “What? I’m trying to be better okay?” Blake’s ears rose up at Weiss’ apology, and behind Weiss Ruby beamed with happiness and a little pride. She was learning and getting better! First it was defending Blake in Argus, now apologising without being told or forced to! Weiss has grown so much since the rude and bossy heiress she had been back when we’d first met, and okay she was still bossy, but still! I am so proud we’re BFFs.

“Why Blake? What’s wrong?” Weiss sounded concerned.

“Well…”

Yang cut her off “It’s for me, isn’t it?”

Blake looked at Yang from the side of her eyes and nodded very slightly, her ears back to being flat again. She knew she might have overstepped, but Yang’s face that morning had been hiding pain. They hadn’t had time during the day to discuss it, but she knew what Yang was thinking, she remembered the looks on the faces in the crowd, Blake knew what it was like to be viewed as a monster. It was horrible.

Yang grabbed Blake in a hug and held her tightly, Blake’s eyes went wide before closing and leaning into the hug, her arms around Yang. Her ears had shot up in surprise but lowered slightly in happiness.

“Thank you.” Yang whispered to Blake before letting go, much too soon for both of them. Blake could still smell Yang’s lavender shampoo, and she blushed slightly from how much she liked the smell, and Yang was doing the same.

“Blake was looking out for me. Because of what happened last time. You all saw how the crowd looked at me. Like I was…like I was a monster.” Yang’s voice cracked at the end, and Ruby immediately grabbed her sister in a tight hug.

“I hadn’t realised! I’m so so SO sorry!”

“It’s okay Rubes, it’s been almost two years since it happened, and we’ve been kinda busy saving the world you know?” Yang ruffled her sister’s hair affectionately.

“That doesn’t matter, I should have realised!” Ruby felt awful and it showed, from the look on her face to the way she held herself.

“Ruby’s right, we should have remembered and noticed. There’s no way we’re competing now.” Weiss shook her head.

Blake chimed in, “I agree, we shouldn’t compete.”

“Guys...” Yang started to talk but Ruby cut her off.

“No, Weiss and Blake are right. I’m your sister and more importantly your team leader, so my decision is final. We are not competing in the tournament this year. I will not force you to try and go out in front of a crowd of people thinking you’re a monster. You’re not! You’re Yang Xiao Long. You’re my sister, my teammate, and I love you. I hate it when you’re hurt, and I will not deliberately hurt you just so we can fight in some stupid tournament. Team RWBY will not compete!” Ruby ended her declaration with crossed arms and a nod of her head.

Yang smiled sadly and almost had to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. Ruby has grown up so much, she was so proud of her little sister. “Ok then Rubes, I can’t argue if you pull the team leader card.”

Ruby smiled back, “Group hug?”

Everyone came together and hugged, it wasn’t something they did very often, but at times like this it felt like the right thing to do.

The moment was ruined by a loud incessant knocking on their door. “Guys! Open up! It’s important!”

They pulled apart and Ruby went to the door and opened it, “What’s up Jaune?”

The tall blonde was at the door, wearing just his hoody and jeans, “Have you seen the news?” Everyone looked at each other and shook their heads, “Put it on someone’s scroll now!”

Yang and Blake exchanged a look out the corner of their eyes, and Weiss agreed with the unspoken words, Jaune was being weird. He was never like this. Blake pulled her scroll out and switched it to the news, turning the volume up loud enough for them to hear, and put it on the bookcase so they could all see it.

“Now rewind five minutes to the start of the segment.”

Blake rewound the live news five minutes and let it play.

“Now over to Lisa Lavender for this special report, and the following report does contain footage some viewers may find disturbing.”

“Thank you, James. Tonight, the return of the Vytal Tournament was announced, over a year after the last one was held in Beacon and ended with a tragic loss of life and terrorist attack on Beacon Academy.”

Blake looked up at Jaune, “Jaune...”

“Keep watching.”

She looked back down to the scroll, it was playing the end of the fight between Pyrrha and Penny, with Lisa Lavender talking over it.

“It was also announced that at least two of the events that marred the previous tournament were the result of terrorist activity.” The scroll showed a picture of Emerald and Mercury. “These two people have been identified as having been associated with the White Fang and Roman Torchwick. As viewers may remember, Mercury Black made it to the semi-finals against Yang Xiao Long, where it appeared that he suffered a terrible injury.” The news footage cut to a recording of the fight towards the end. Blake looked at Yang, who was watching the news with a strained face, and she almost closed the scroll but for a small shake of Yang’s head. “New evidence has come to light which brings a different take on the situation.” The footage was now showing some CCTV footage from the fight between Pyrrha and Penny, with Ruby in a corridor, and Mercury walking. “Despite his apparent injuries in the fight before, Mercury Black can clearly be seen walking, and indeed fighting, in this footage. Something that should be impossible given the injuries he was supposed to have suffered previously. What authorities have released is some previously unknown knowledge that two of the people in that team were working with Roman Torchwick and the White Fang terrorists, and this woman, Emerald Sustrai, has an illusion semblance. This semblance was the key to creating several disturbing images for both the crowd and fighters to manipulate and trick them into committing violent and disturbing acts, all with the goal of causing a massive Grimm attack on Beacon Academy.”

Yang dropped to her knees; she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Despite what people believe they saw at the time, it has come to light that Yang Xiao Long, far from being a perpetrator of a vicious, unwarranted attack, was in fact an innocent victim of the terrorist plot. As can be seen from the CCTV footage shown, the attack had no effect and was likely an illusion on Xiao Long that clearly had no lasting damage on Black, despite how serious the injury looked, and how he acted. It was another step in the terrorist’s plot, with Xiao Long an unknowing victim. Another victim was the late Pyrrha Nikos, manipulated and tricked by illusions to overuse her semblance against Penny Polendina from Atlas Academy, causing the second tragedy, the reveal of the android and loss of Miss Polendina’s life. What makes it even more tragic is that Miss Nikos then went on to lose her life fighting against the terrorists, a true hero to the end.”

“The authorities announced their recent findings at an inquest regarding the Vytal Tournament coming back, and what greater security was in place to stop further tragedies happening. Both Emerald Sustrai and Mercury Black are still at large and considered armed and dangerous. They have had Huntsmen and Huntress training at some point, despite no records of graduation, and only having been at Shade Academy in Mistral for one year, with forged papers. The public is advised not to approach at all, and to call the police from a safe distance.”

“Thank you, Lisa, now...” Blake closed her scroll. The room was silent, Jaune had stepped into the room from the doorway and was standing next to Ruby, Yang was still on her knees, silent tears rolling down her face. Innocent. They were telling the truth. What had happened to her was actually being told on the news.

“We thought it best to get back to normal as quickly as possible, and to announce what had actually happened to some degree.” Everyone turned to find Professor Goodwitch standing in the open doorway, a soft look on her face for once. “Not everyone was on board with announcing the full details, and we kept Cinder and her real goal out of the news but thought it might be...helpful to some people to announce Miss Sustrai’s illusion semblance. “

Yang could have hugged her, and the others felt the same way. “Professor...”

“Don’t feel the need to hold back. Professor Ozpin thought you all had something special about you, the events in Atlas clearly back that up, and that includes you Mr Arc,” Jaune’s eyes widened in surprise, “So don’t be held back by events outside of your control and what others may think of you, especially considering the events of the last tournament. Now that’s dealt with, I need to speak with you and your team Mr Arc, concerning the upcoming Vytal Tournament.”

“We’ve already decided not to compete.” Jaune’s statement surprised everyone, but not Professor Goodwitch.

“I thought not. However, I need to explain why your team will be remaining at Beacon for the duration of the tournament.” She turned to team RWBY, “Welcome back to Beacon Academy.” She nodded and then walked across the hall to team JNPR’s room, Jaune following her and closing the door to team RWBY’s dorm behind them.

There was silence in the room for a moment before laughter broke it. Yang was laughing. They looked at her quite confused. “Oh, that is ironic. We literally just finished agreeing NOT to compete, then get given a reason as to why that’s completely wrong and get told by Professor Goodwitch that we actually SHOULD compete.”

Weiss cracked a smile, “That is pretty ironic.”

Ruby looked between them, “So what you’re saying is...”

Yang looked up at Ruby with a grin on her face and stood up, “Oh we’re competing now. I’ve been proven innocent, that bitch Emerald and Mercury have been shown to be evil, so I’m good to compete. And we’re gonna win this thing.”

“Wooo! Go team RWBY!” Ruby jumped in the air and high fived everyone, Yang returned it enthusiastically, Blake with a wry grin on her face, and Weiss reluctantly, but Ruby knew that was just because Weiss didn’t like high fiving. “Can we now make plans on kicking ass?”

Author’s note:

I saw somebody say online that they were surprised that nothing had ever come of how people viewed Yang at the end of the Vytal Tournament last time, so I thought I should bring it in and try to cover it. And yes, the Vytal Tournament is back! Gotta have a tournament arc in there somewhere right? I got the names for the other teachers and what they teach from After The Fall. Someone also mentioned in a comment they were surprised at Ruby’s reaction to the Vytal Tournament returning. I thought that Ruby’s main issue with it would be that it was hijacked by Cinder and the White Fang – not really an issue anymore as far as they know – and the fact that Penny died, also not an issue.

#RWBY #rwby fic #fanfic #rwby fanfic #fanfiction #rwby fanfiction #rtg #ruby rose #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #jaune arc #glynda goodwitch #professor port #vytal

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kaette-kita-slayers · 6 years

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Slayers V.1 Translation Comparison (Part 1, ~p.24)

This is the first installment of a comparison of the Tokyopop translation of the Slayers novels against the original Japanese. There are a ton of changes, so it's not going to be possible for me to catalogue every single one---I'd have to retranslate almost everything in order to do that! I'm focusing on things that make some kind of difference to the narrative, or that strike me as being of interest.

I apologize if the formatting is kind of confusing; I haven’t been able to come up with a better way to present it. ^^;

If you don't have a copy of the Tokyopop edition handy, this post from The Slayers Blog has the first chapter.

To start off, the first book is just titled Slayers!, with no subtitle. "The Ruby Eye" was added by Tokyopop.

The opening paragraphs are a good example of the kind of minor changes that I may not cover, since practically the entire book is like this:

English:

So there I was, tearing through the woods at top speed, a gang of murderous bandits hot on my tail.

Why were they chasing me, you ask? Well, it’s a long, boring story and besides, where I come from, it’s not all that odd to find yourself being chased through the woods at top speed by a gang of murderous bandits. Especially if you’re me.

If you really want to know why I can tell you, but you don’t need to know why. Actually, it’s probably safer if you don’t know. Look, it might ruin the story for you, okay? And you wouldn’t want to ruin the story, would you? Of course, you wouldn’t.

So anyway, where were we before I was so rudely interrupted? Ah, yes: I was tearing through the woods at top speed, a gang of murderous bandits hot on my tail.

Japanese:

They were after me.

... Okay, if you say, "So what?", I have to admit you've got me there... It's true that this isn't all that unusual, generally speaking, and it's practically an everyday occurrence for me in particular.

Still, stories have a certain structure, and you have to build up to the good stuff, so I'd appreciate it if you could just put up with it for now.

Anyway, they'd almost caught up to me.

It’s pretty heavily embellished, but everything in the English version has some basis in the Japanese text.

Missing from the English version: Lina mentions that she's in need of money because she hasn't had any work lately.

The "speck of pixie dust" line is sort of in the Japanese text, though she actually says "dirt from under a pixie's nail".

English:

Not being big on precautionary measures, I screeched to a halt and peeked out from beneath my hood to evaluate my options. The trees on either side of the road were too dense for me to cut through. Even at midday, I wouldn’t be able to see two feet in front of me.

Japanese:

I had been letting my mind wander, but then I came to a sudden halt.

Both sides of the road had a dense overgrowth of trees, stretching like a canopy overhead. The highway, devoid of travelers, stretched on ahead, cutting through them. The midday sun blazed down.

There’s nothing about Lina trying to cut through the trees or having trouble seeing. Or wearing a hood, for that matter.

English:

Now, when I say road, bear in mind that the road we were running on was more like a path. It was as though some guy had hacked his way through the woods with a machete, figuring that hiking single file was a fine method of travel. Weeds grew high on either side, and starting a scuffle in them was not exactly appealing.

Japanese:

Although it was a path stretching straight through the forest, it was fairly wide, with plenty of space for a violent confrontation. If I were foolish enough to stop in a spot where the road was narrow, they'd be able to slash at me from the thickets on either side.

Overall, the English version seems to be trying to make her sound surprised and worried, while in Japanese it's more like she noticed the bandits’ trap ahead of time and successfully avoided getting caught in a bad situation.

English:

Still, I had to say something to flush them out. “I know you’re there,” I shouted...

Japanese:

I thought about saying something to them, but I couldn't come up with anything witty, so I kept silent for the time being.

I stood there waiting, as a way of declaring, "I know you're following me."

Exactly the opposite.

English:

“Well, hello there, toots.”

Who’s it gonna be this time? I wondered. A talking skeleton, maybe? A zombie? Nope.

Japanese:

Lina actually says that not even a skeleton or zombie would say such a crappy cliched line nowadays.

They cut a sentence where Lina says that the bandit looks like the type of character that would be easily defeated before the halfway point of a story.

English:

No duh, genius.

“And now, here ya are, all by yer lonesome and at our mercy.” He licked his lips.

Japanese:

I couldn't take it anymore. I mean, I've always thought that creeps like this guy probably can't manage to cram even a hundred words into their brains, but still, couldn't he manage to find something a little less stereotypical to say?

English:

“Ya look like a biter, ya do, and I don’t fancy tussling with a gal who’d leave me marked.”

Japanese:

“If I fought you for real, I'd probably end up in a world of hurt.”

I get that they’re trying to emphasize that the bandit is a creep, but this still made me raise an eyebrow.

English:

“Speaking strictly as a professional, I gotta say I was impressed.”

Japanese:

“Even we wouldn't go that far.”

English:

No rest for the wicked, I always say.

Japanese:

My motto is, "The bad guys have no rights".

I can see how that would turn into "No rest for the wicked" except it's used incorrectly here, making it sound like Lina is talking about herself in Tokyopop's version. She's justifying her attack on the bandits in the original.

English:

“At first we figured we’d chase ya down and exact our revenge, in a fashion befitting our scurrilous reputation...”

Japanese:

“Now, normally we'd have to kill you or pursue you until every last one of us is dead in order to get revenge for the boss...”

It’s not an important difference, I guess, but I’m not sure why they dropped those details.

English:

Join up with you? I feel like I need to take a shower just for talking to you, cretin.

Japanese:

Lina adds a little aside in the narration:

I hate getting involved in anything crooked. ...I swear, really.

English:

I acted like I was thinking it over.

Not there in Japanese.

English:

"It’s what ya might call nonviolent conflict resolution, makin’ the best out of a had situation. Give and take: We make use of yer talents, and ya got yerself a gang. Ya give us back our stolen treasure, and we let ya keep breathing."

Japanese:

“You just do what I tell you, that's all. I'll make it worth your while, you won't want for anything. So how about it, doesn't sound so bad, does it?”

The English version sounds oddly threatening, considering that he’s trying to win her over.

Missing in English: Lina mentions that her attack on the bandits was several days prior to this.

English:

"Never know what kind of scum’s roaming around this neck of the woods. Ain’t no place to be a-napping."

Japanese:

“We're not gonna get anywhere if we keep hanging around here. We've gotta find a new home base.”

The word used for "home (base)" has the kanji for "sleep" in it, so I guess that's why the English version reads the way it does?

English:

Bear in mind, I hadn’t said a word since he’d started yammering. I stood there silently while he went on and on and on. And on. And on, some more. What is it with men loving to hear the sound of their own voice?

Right about the time he started winding down with, “So, toots, how’s about it?” I sensed another presence entering our sphere. Hmmm…

Japanese:

He was feeling pressured because of me. I had been entirely silent the whole time.

I have a naturally chirpy, girlish voice, so he'd probably feel relieved if I started talking. Of course, I felt no obligation to do so.

He just kept talking at me, while I simply stood there silently. He was clearly getting more and more irritated as I let him talk until he was blue in the face.

"So? What do you think, huh?"

There’s nothing about Lina sensing a presence in Japanese.

English:

I dug my heels in the ground to emphasize my point.

Not there in Japanese.

English:

Oh, bravo. I can see why it took you so long to come up with that one.

Not there in Japanese.

English:

Oh sure, the ten guys puffed up their chests and made a show of how tough they were, which I suppose I appreciated, but really. Ten guys? It was as if they had no faith in me. Sad.

Japanese:

The man was clearly shaken, to a hilarious degree. It must have unsettled him that I wasn't upset by the number of men out there.

English:

Those peabrains were way beneath my talents, and I was starting to get bored, when…

Japanese:

In that case, I'll have to settle this through force...

English:

“Shall I wait for you to call some friends, so we can have a fair fight?”

The presence I’d sensed earlier!

Japanese:

"Hold it right there."

Again, there’s nothing about a presence.

English:

Somebody cue the chorus of angels, would you?

Japanese:

The scene deserved a fanfare.

I just wanted to point this one out because I like the English translation here.

English:

“Piece of advice, fellas: If you all take off at a dead sprint now, a few of you might actually make it back to the rock you’ve crawled from under before I catch up and exterminate you like the vermin you are. One or two of you might even escape with your lives. That is, if you start right now.”

Japanese:

“You'd better turn tail and run back where you came from, you thieves. If you do, I'll at least spare your lives.”

It’s not that different, but the English version makes it sound like he wants to chase them down and kill them regardless, which isn't like Gourry.

English:

Not a bad threat, I thought.

Not there in Japanese.

English:

So what if she could’ve handled the whole thing on her own and the handsome rescuer in question didn’t have the verbal acuity she was hoping for? A gal can��t afford to be too picky these days, can she?

I can't find anything like this in the Japanese text. This and the preceding paragraph are both just Lina complaining about how unbelievably cliched the situation is, up to and including the handsome guy showing up out of nowhere.

English:

“Ya little… !”

Oh no. You think he’ll do any better this time?

“Ya impertinent cad!”

Guess not.

“We’re gonna feed ya both yer livers now! Have at ‘em, boys!”

Japanese:

This is all one line of dialogue with no comments from Lina.

English:

Anyway, there I was, shrieking like my life depended on it and pretending I had no idea what was going on around me. Sadly, the whole thing wrapped up quickly.

Japanese:

I got completely caught up in the whole shrieking thing, so I'm not sure exactly what happened, but at any rate, it wrapped up quickly.

English:

... had I not been a gifted sorceress with the enhanced hearing that accompanies that role...

What? That's not in the original at all.

English:

Just a kid? Okay. That stung a little.

Not there in Japanese.

English:

I mean, I like kids. I want to be a standup guy, but c’mon! Ten guys, I fought! Ten guys!

Not there in Japanese.

English:

What's the big deal, huh? At least I can run fast and my clothes hang right. Boobs are overrated, if you ask me.

Japanese:

It's true that sometimes I look younger than I really am...

English:

I guessed maybe all that blond hair was making it hard for him to see. I mean, if it had been me, I’d like to think I’d have figured out pretty quickly that the lovely creature before me was no helpless little kid.

Japanese:

The man couldn't see, since it was hidden by my hair, but I could tell that my eyebrow was twitching like crazy.

(It literally says the area around her temple was twitching, but that sounds weird in English, at least to me?)

English:

"I don’t live anywhere, exactly… I was just heading to Atlas City—”

Japanese:

"I don't have any particular destination in mind... I thought I'd go see Atlas City, for the time being..."

English:

... he said in a maddeningly condescending tone.

This isn’t there in Japanese, at least not at this point. There is an almost identical line a little later in the scene, attached to a different bit of dialogue.

The English version has a weird habit of rearranging the text slightly, which I mostly haven’t noted, but moving this line seems like an awfully pointless choice.

English:

What?! I don’t even think I understand what it is you think that I think that you don’t understand!

In retrospect, I think he thought he’d rescued a helpless little girl who’d been forced to live on her own as a result of some sort of tragedy At the time, I suspected he was going to keep spewing the same reassurances until he died of suffocation or I died of embarrassment. One of us had to put an end to it.

Japanese:

Ugh.

I had been desperately trying to keep from exploding with anger, as I tend to do, so I had kept my head down while I spoke, holding back my emotions. Apparently this guy had mistaken that to mean that he'd asked me about something I couldn't bring myself to talk about. He must have assumed that I'm some unfortunate little girl who had been forced to leave her hometown due to some kind of circumstances.

English:

“I’m an adventuress, off to see the world.” I was telling him the truth—which, incidentally, was no small feat for me!

The word "adventuress" seems like a weird choice to me. That and the "no small feat" part aren't in the original.

English:

Okay, now, this just sucks. For once in my life, I’m not making excuses!

I didn’t know what else to say.

Japanese:

... he said, as though he were patiently explaining something to a small child.

... I'm getting nowhere.

English:

... without succumbing to the temptation to commit the premeditated murder of a blond.

Japanese:

... my stomach might dissolve from the stress.

I like this paragraph in the English translation!

English:

He was obviously committed to the idea.

Japanese:

Who are you to decide that for me?!

English:

We hadn’t been on the road twenty minutes before he felt the need to speak again.

Japanese:

It just says "a little while", not "twenty minutes".

English:

I considered giving him a fake name, but honestly, I was too tired to see the point.

Japanese:

For an instant, out of sheer irritation, I considered giving him a fake name, but I decided not to since it would be pointless.

I wonder why the English version keeps de-emphasizing Lina’s anger in this scene?

English:

And I am a traveler. So maybe I left out a few important details. So what? Gourry had already proven he wasn’t the type to ask penetrating questions. I figured that he’d buy pretty much anything I wanted to sell him about my circumstances, which, as far as I was concerned, was a point in his favor.

Japanese:

It was utterly obvious that the part about being an ordinary traveler was a lie, yet Gourry deliberately didn't ask any questions to try to get to the bottom of things. He probably thought that I was lying because of some kind of circumstances.

The English version implies that Gourry isn’t asking questions out of stupidity or complacency, while in Japanese Lina assumes that he’s doing so out of (mistaken) consideration for her feelings.

English:

And he really wasn’t getting under my skin like I’d figured he would. Still, the prospect of being treated like a kid all the way to Atlas City did not bode well for either of us. Not that I wanted him to flirt with me, that’s not what I’m saying. I just… I’m digging a hole here, aren’t I? Okay, whatever. Let’s just leave it at: He seemed like a nice guy.

Japanese:

"Man..." he muttered under his breath, thinking that I wouldn't be able to hear him. "I've gotta look after a little kid till we get to Atlas City, huh? Not the sexiest thing in the world, but I guess it's not so bad."

Yeah, he still pisses me off.

I'm not sure how they managed it, but it looks like someone confused Gourry’s dialogue with Lina’s narration here.

#slayers #comparison

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dassala · 6 years

Photo

In Focus

Rated M - Chapter 5/? (Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4)

Emma Swan’s CEO fiance Graham Humbert has hired a wedding photographer to capture every aspect of the wedding planning process. Killian Jones usually hates these stuck-up, spoiled rich brides he captures on film, but Emma is different.

Disclaimer: This fic contains elements that may be squicky or disturbing to some of the CS audience. I want you to know that both Emma and Killian have sexual relationships with other characters in this fic (NOTE: NO SMUT). They also both get very drunk at different times throughout the story. So if you have an aversion to alcohol abuse (especially as a crutch), and you can’t stand the idea of Emma and Killian being with other people, this may not be the story for you. However, that said, you should know that I never write CS fic without a happy ending. :) So if you can stick it out, I promise satisfaction.

@awkwardnessandbaseball is my most incredible beta! <3 Thank you so much, lovely!

Read it on AO3

“I can’t believe I’m letting you talk me into this,” Liam Jones muttered, fixing his collar as he stared into the mirror. He was dressed in a grey button-down and a pair of jeans. With a heavy sigh, he turned to his younger brother and held out his arms. “Acceptable?”

Killian nodded and ran a hand through his hair. He was not quite dressed, but was getting there. Tonight was Emma’s bachelorette party. It was difficult to think that she was having this party when she wasn’t even totally sure about Graham. He dabbed on a bit of cologne and turned to grab his own shirt, a heather blue v-neck tee. He pulled it over his head and fussed with his hair a second more.

“Killian,” Liam began, leaning against the door frame in his brother’s small bedroom, “you don’t think she’s actually going to leave this guy for you, do you? She’s still going on with everything.”

He stayed silent for a moment, rather than answer. Turning, he pressed his lips together in thought. “I want her to be happy. If she’s happy with him then so be it. If she can’t take it anymore with him, I...I want to be there for her. I want to be the one she comes to.”

Liam shook his head. “This is a recipe for disaster. How do you pick these damaged women?”

“I can’t help it,” Killian groaned. “They’re drawn to me, it seems.”

“Damage begets damage,” Liam muttered and picked up his wallet. “You ready?”

Emma looked up from her eyeshadow palette, sweeping some smoky grey across her lash line. “Is this going to be awkward for you?” She asked as she dolled herself up for a night of partying.

Ruby shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “Nah, he was cool about it. I think maybe he’s got a thing for someone else, too. He didn’t seem fazed at all.”

Pausing, Emma tapped her brush on the side of a jar. Since Ruby was definitely over Killian, and she was Emma’s best friend, the only thing she could do was let it all out. She had to tell someone, or she would absolutely explode. Looking up at her friend in the mirror, she paused, then turned to face her.

“Rubes, I need to tell you something.”

After some pre-gaming with the girls at Emma and Graham’s apartment, the ladies piled into a limousine and took off for the bar, where they were to meet up with Killian and his friend. Ruby’s date was also set to be there.

The first stop of the night was a swanky martini bar. Ruby led the way as the ladies entered.

A thin, gorgeous woman with Asian features and a black braid down the center of her back greeted them inside the door. She was petite but somehow statuesque in a floral maxi dress with 60s mod accessories. Emma beamed and offered her hand. “Mulan, it’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much,” she nudged a blushing Ruby, who slid her hand into Mulan’s free one.

“Pleasure is all mine, Emma,” she smiled in return, “Thank you for inviting me tonight.”

“No problem!” Emma giggled and gestured to the bar. “Shall we?”

As they approached the bar, Emma spotted Killian across the room. She waved, beckoning him over.

“Easy,” Ruby muttered into her best friend’s ear, “you’re kinda drunk so don’t say or do anything stupid, okay?”

Killian and another young man stepped over. “Ladies, good to see you,” he smiled to Emma and the girls, “this is my older brother Liam.”

“Not...not that much older,” Liam corrected him, clearing his throat. They all greeted one another and agreed to ordering a round at the bar. Killian carried his camera bag on his shoulder, lifting his lens to take a few snaps here and there as everyone dove straight into the festivities for the night.

Emma slid into a round booth near the back of the bar. Ruby was quick to supply her with a lemon drop martini and scooted in next to her. “So?” her Maid of Honor asked.

“She’s beautiful, Rubes...Wow,” Emma beamed and nudged her friend. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Yeah, not what I was asking about,” Ruby drew in a deep breath and seemed to force a smile. “Do you think you can behave when you’re drunk like this? I want you to have a good time, but maybe I should suggest that Killian leaves?”

Rolling her eyes, Emma took a swig from the sweet and sour cocktail. “I’m fine. I’m in love with Graham. I’m marrying him soon.”

Ruby nodded, eyes glued to Emma. It was obvious Ruby wasn’t going to let her out of her sight for the evening.

Across the room, Emma spied Elsa leaning casually against the bar. Killian’s brother had made his way to her and was chatting her up. Good for Elsa. She was always so uptight and conservative as it was, very much the opposite of her younger sister Anna.

Killian stepped up and snapped a few photos of the girls as they squished closer together in the booth. He laughed at their attempts to look casual, making silly faces at one another.

“Alright, alright, look here,” he coached them, getting down on his knee to get the angle right. The girls all leaned in, smiling brightly at the camera. Emma pursed her lips and winked.

Killian paused after taking the photo. He cleared his throat and backed away slightly. “Thanks, ladies,” he turned back to the bar.

Ruby gave Emma a look.

“What?!” She sighed, “I can’t make a kissy face at the camera?!”

“Was it at the camera, or was it at the poor, suffering photographer?” Ruby muttered.

Rolling her eyes, Emma finished her martini and placed the glass down. “Another!”

Having decided they needed a more casual atmosphere to let loose, the group piled into a limousine and traveled down the road to a sports bar Emma liked to frequent with Ruby in their “younger days". In the car, Emma found herself squished between Killian and Mulan. She glanced over at him and giggled. “Sorry,” she muttered, doing her best not to press him too hard into the front partition.

“Nah, no problem,” he grinned back at her, “better me stuck here than the bride.”

“Right,” she tapped the gaudy tiara Ruby had insisted she wear. It flickered with tiny LED lights and sparkled in the mood lighting of the limousine.

“So, does your brother live here in town?” She asked him, clawing desperately for something to talk about besides the fact that her uplifted cleavage was practically in his face.

“Yeah, he moved here to help me through my divorce, and I can’t get the bugger to leave,” Killian grinned. He scanned down the row in the limo, then lifted an eyebrow, “Seems to be enjoying himself tonight.”

“Hm?” Emma turned to see Liam engaged in deep conversation with Elsa at the end of the limo. Their hands were intertwined on her lap. Her jaw dropped slightly. Elsa was the most timid of all of her friends, and the fact that she would display any affection publicly was telling. “Oh my.”

Lifting his fingers to his lips, Killian managed a loud wolf-whistle from his end of the limo to theirs. Liam turned to his brother and raised an eyebrow. The elder brother seemed annoyed, to say the least. Elsa blushed and released her hold on his hands. Liam took the opportunity to shoot a rude hand gesture to Killian.

“How many more bars?” Killian asked with a laugh.

“As many as we want!” Ruby shot back. She glanced at Emma and gave her a look. “Ems, you wanna check in with Graham when we get there?”

Emma shook her head. “No, I don’t. Thanks, though, Mom…”

Ruby sighed and returned to her chat with Mulan. The two young women shared a low conversation and small kisses as they bounced in the raucous limousine.

“Mulan is nice. Not who I pictured for Ruby, but hey...whoever makes her happy, right?” Killian beamed.

Happy. Emma nodded and smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, she’s great. I’m happy for them. Ruby is more serious about her than she’s been with the last four guys.”

“Gee,” Killian laughed and rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Sorry?” She laughed. “You’re amazing. You’re more than amazing. Your ex was an idiot, and you are going to find the most...incredible girl.” Word vomit. Stop, Emma.

She watched him as he stared into her eyes. He was quiet, the bass of the music in the vehicle pounding in their ears.

“I…” he stammered and looked away, going red all the way up to his pointy ears. God, she desperately wanted to nibble on them.

She knew he had to feel the same way about her. Emma felt her chest tightening and she looked away, clenching her fists. This was so unfair. Why now? Why when she was weeks away from being married? This made it all too difficult.

“We’re here!” One of the bridesmaids shouted. The piled out of the limo and made their way into the crowded bar.

Emma quickly pulled away from Killian and strode inside. She slammed her credit card onto the bar. “Tequila for my people!”

“Ems, maybe you should slow down,” Ruby hissed into her ear, “you’re gonna burn out or do something stupid.”

“I’m fine!” Emma shouted, raising her arms. She gave a wiggle of her hips. “This is MY party!”

The shots were poured. Dances were had. Everything started to get more and more blurry. Emma jumped and spun and shimmied on the dance floor. She laughed, dancing wildly with a complete stranger she'd met there on the floor. Spinning and spinning.

Holding up a hand with a chuckle, Killian refused the tequila. He sat on a bar stool and watched as Emma had what seemed like the time of her life. Liam had pulled Elsa to a quiet corner, and Mulan was putting the moves on Ruby as she danced alongside drunk Emma.

He had to keep some of his wits about him. One of them had to be a responsible adult, right? He pulled his phone from his pocket, flipping to a message from Liam.

Message from Liam: Holy shit little brother I'm in love

Killian laughed and replied.

You're drunk. But I can tell you like her. Good for you. If you forget to get her number I'll ask Emma for it later.

He placed his phone down and ordered a glass of water. His phone buzzed on the bar top.

“Jesus, get off your phone and pay attention to-" he froze as he lifted the device.

Message from Milah: I miss you.

Not again. He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. Another message came through.

Message from Milah: I’m in New York. I want to see you.

His chest clenched and he was suddenly dizzy. The glass of water came sliding across the bar. Looking up at the bartender, he sent it back.

“Double Bourbon, neat.”

Two more drinks down and he was stumbling to the bathroom. He pushed open the door to the men’s room and leaned against the sink. The water came icy cold from the tap. Perfect. He slapped handfuls onto his face and neck, breathing. In his mind’s eye be could see her dark, soulful eyes as she told him she needed to “live more". She meant, of course, that all of the deepest love and mind-blowing lovemaking in the world couldn't keep her happy - but money could.

Emma leaned against a bar stool, wobbling slightly on her feet. She was just about done with her heels. Had they not been Louboutins, she probably would have chucked them into the garbage twenty minutes earlier.

“Water, please,” she groaned to the bartender, hating the fact that she was throwing in the towel on drinking for the night. Seemed wrong to cut herself off at her bachelorette. Wasn’t that Ruby’s job? Glancing around the bar, she searched bleary-eyed for Ruby. The tall brunette was in a corner with Mulan, where they seemed to have found the perfect spot to make out. Emma shook her head. It was nice that Ruby was enamored with her new partner, but geez. Get a room.

The water came across the bar and Emma took three hurried gulps from the glass. Her body was aching for hydration, to be sure. Tomorrow would be a rough day.

After downing the remainder of the glass, she wobbled again as she turned. The bar stool was a swivel-type, and it was increasingly more difficult to hold herself up whilst leaning against it. Where was the damn bathroom? She’d been to this bar about a hundred times, but somehow, she couldn’t remember where she needed to go to tinkle. She giggled to herself. Tinkle.

Shuffling off toward a corner, she was relieved to see a ‘Restrooms’ sign. She leaned against the first door and stumbled in, allowing it to slam behind her.

Inside, Killian was bent over the sink. The room was dark and dingy, with fading green tiles and sketchy-looking stalls. It smelled overwhelmingly of urinal cakes. She blinked, realizing she was in the wrong room. But goddamn if he didn’t look amazing in that moment. He was wet, having splashed himself with water from the sink. She stood for a moment to gather her bearings, watching him.

How could she deal with never knowing? What if she married Graham and then...that was it? She would be pinned in this bland, lonely life forever. Forever wondering what could have been. And she never would know what those lips tasted like. Now or never, Emma.

The bathroom door opened, then slammed shut. He looked up at himself in the mirror and caught a sparkly reflection behind him. There was Emma. She had lost her tiara and she was covered in a sheen of sweat, but she was staggeringly beautiful in that moment.

“Emma,” he breathed and turned to look at her.

She stepped forward and grabbed his collar. With a sharp yank, she pulled his body against hers and crushed her lips to his. He could faintly taste watered-down tequila and a hint of a fruity lip balm.

It was instinctual, the way he pulled her close. His arms were first around her waist, and then suddenly his hands were under her firm, supple ass, lifting her up against the bathroom door.

Emma’s hands tugged at his shirt. She held him close, the collar stretching out in her grasp. The room spun, dimly lit with a flickering fluorescent bulb. Her nails scratched over his chest as she parted her lips to accept his wanting tongue. She ground her hips against his crotch, moaning deeply.

And just as fast as it had started, he pulled away. He settled her to her feet and backed a good distance from her. He was wrecked. Amped up, hard as a rock in his tight jeans, chest heaving, Killian was a mess. He ran his hands through his hair.

“No,” he exhaled a deep breath and drew in another, “no, I won't do this to Graham. And I won't do it to you. You're marrying him.”

Emma stared at him, dragging the back of her hand over her lips.

“I'm so sorry,” she whispered, as she leaned against the bathroom door for support. “I shouldn't have...we...we shouldn't have.”

“Even if things weren't like this, Emma, even if you weren't getting married...not like this.”

She seemed to be lost in thought for a long moment. “Nobody will know.”

He hated that she intended on keeping a secret from her husband-to-be. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Tell him. Don't have any secrets. I'm leaving New York as soon as I can, so I won't even be a problem.”

“Because of me?”

Killian shook his head, swallowing hard. “You're just one of many reasons.”

There was a knock at the bathroom door. Emma jumped slightly, but stepped out of the way. A man entered, looking a tad befuddled.

“Sorry, mate. She's leaving,” he gestured out the door. Emma gave him a lingering look, then wobbled out of the restroom.

Before long, he was leaning his temple against the cold window of a cab. Street lamps surged and then faded in his peripheral as the cabbie drove him home.

Upon reaching the docks, he stumbled down the gangplank and onto his boat. As he stepped inside, Roger whined and went to him, his tail wagging low.

“Hey,” he patted the dog on his head and walked to the bedroom.

Flipping on the light, he stopped in his tracks. Milah sat on his bed, her hands folded in her lap.

“Hi,” she said quietly.

Emma stumbled out of the mens’ room and into the ladies’. She sat against the tiled wall and buried her face in her hands. Not only had she just ruined things with Killian, but she may have also screwed up any chance of staying with Graham.

His kisses tasted like whiskey and salt. His hands were firm, yet gentle. She closed her eyes, remembering the way he ground his hips against hers as her back pressed against the cold, hard metal door. What would have happened, had he not stopped? Would they have fucked right there in the bathroom?

Ruby walked into the bathroom and paused, seeing Emma on the floor. “Oh, thank God, there you are,” she sighed and leaned down to offer her hands to her best friend. “Mulan and I lost track of you. Are you sick?”

Emma shook her head and took Ruby’s hands, wrapping her arms around her and sobbing into her shoulder. “I kissed him.”

“Emma,” Ruby groaned. She rubbed her back slowly and held her close. “It’s ok. Let’s get you home, alright? I saw Killian hailing a cab a few minutes ago so you don’t have to see him again tonight.”

Emma nodded and sniffled, taking Ruby’s hand as she was led from the restroom out into the continuous party atmosphere of the bar.

Liam offered to get Elsa back to her hotel. Ruby shot him a look of warning as they left. Elsa was quite obviously impaired from a few too many amaretto sours.

“On my honor, Miss Lucas,” Liam promised. She nodded and climbed into the limo, leaving the pair to walk down the street hand-in-hand.

Ruby walked Emma into the penthouse apartment and helped her out of her dress. Mulan ran a hot bath. Emma sank into the tub, leaning her head back upon the edge. While Mulan parted out of decency, Ruby stayed and sat with her friend.

“Are you gonna tell Graham?” She asked, looking at her hands. Emma knew she couldn’t ask Ruby to keep the secret for her. It wasn’t fair.

“Yes,” Emma whispered. “He wants me to tell him.”

“Killian?” Ruby raised an eyebrow. “I know he’s an honest guy, but this could lose him the payment for shooting the wedding photos.”

Emma turned her head to look at Ruby. “I don’t know if I can go through with this.”

“You need to think about it when you’re not wasted,” Ruby stood and grabbed a towel from the nearby rack. She placed it next to the tub. “I’ll turn down your bed and get you some pajamas. We’ll chat more tomorrow, okay? Mulan and I are gonna crash in your guest room.”

Emma nodded. “Thank you.”

Once she was settled into bed and the lights were out, Emma turned to her phone. She looked at the last text she’d had from Graham, who had offered to stay in a hotel for the night.

Message from Graham: Have fun, baby. I love you.

#cs fic #cs mc au fic #captain swan #in focus #chapter 5

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welllpthisishappening · 7 years

Text

Tripping Over the Blue Line (39/45)

It’s a transition. That’s what Emma’s calling it. She’s transitioning from one team to another, from one coast to another and she’s definitely not worried. Nope. She’s fine. Really. She’s promised Mary Margaret ten times already. So she got fired. Whatever. She’s fine, ready to settle into life with the New York Rangers. She’s got a job to do. And she doesn’t care about Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers. At all.

He’s done. One more season and he’s a free agent and he’s out. It’s win or nothing for Killian. He’s going to win a Stanley Cup and then he’s going to stop being the face of the franchise and he’s going to go play for some other garbage team where his name won’t be used as puns in New York Post headlines. That’s the plan. And Emma Swan, director of New York Rangers community relations isn’t going to change that. At all.

They are both horrible liars.

Rating: Mature Content Warnings: Swearing, eventual hockey-type violence AN: Welcome to Los Angeles, hotbed of NHL drama. At least in this version of the NHL. It gets real dramatic guys, but Roland Locksley is here to be painfully adorable in front of media hordes, so there’s some give and take. We’re closing in on the end of this whole story and your continued feelings and thoughts and clicks just absolutely blows my mind. You’re all incredible. Screaming the praises of @laurnorder, @distant-rose & @beautiful-swan forever and ever. Also on Ao3, FF.net & tag’ed up on Tumblr

“Is it always sunny here?” Will asked, squinting up at the sky like he was actually in pain.

Killian rolled his eyes and Roland laughed softly next to him, tugging on the bottom of his jacket and while he certainly wasn’t about to complain about sunshine, it was fairly hot. And they couldn’t take the jackets off.

He wouldn’t complain.

He’d just sweat to death. Probably.

“Shut up, Scarlet,” Robin muttered, brushing against him as he swung open one of the doors on the side of the Staples Center.

Will made a face, pulling Roland away from Killian’s side and slinging his arm over his shoulder – as if that would somehow protect him from age-old insults and jabs just a few minutes before league-mandated media days.

Roland couldn’t stop laughing. He and Henry had gotten new merch almost as soon as they clinched – Eastern Conference champion t-shirts and hats and sweatshirts and, now, they were both in their own Stanley Cup Finals jerseys that Killian was half convinced they'd never actually take off.

“Just because you don’t have a kid wearing your jersey doesn’t mean you have to be a jerk about it,” Killian said, widening his eyes knowingly.

Will groaned. “Whatever.” “Hit the nail right on the head then, didn’t I?” “You aren’t Mrs. V, you don’t get to just start shouting clichés at me, Cap.” “I hardly think I shouted anything at you. We’re having this normal, calm conversation, like normal, calm people. You’re the one freaking out.” “Who’s freaking out, Hook?” Roland asked, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet as he started tugging on suit jackets again.

“Uncle Will,” Killian said.

“Ok,” Will snapped, turning on Killian and Roland with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “First of all, I am not freaking out. I am hot.” “Presumptuous.” Robin rolled his eyes and Killian grinned, glancing down at Roland, who, it appeared, was finding all of this more amusing than just about anything. “Don’t antagonize him,” Robin sighed, brushing his hand over Henry’s shoulder.

“Scarlet’s words, not mine,” Killian laughed.

“Warm,” Will corrected and he still hadn’t uncrossed his arms. “I am warm. Because it is perpetually sunny here and we have to wear these stupid jackets.” “Those stupid jackets let you keep your job.” “I could pay the fine,” Will said quickly. “How much you think it’d be if I just showed up to media in a t-shirt and shorts?” “More than you can afford,” Ruby answered, appearing at the end of the hallway with a smug look on her face and no league-mandated jacket.

“You don’t know that. For real though, how much do you think it’d be, Lucas?” “Too much,” she said, heels echoing on the floor when she walked towards them with a clipboard in one hand and her phone in the other. She didn’t look at any of them when she moved, a picture of media relations efficiency and something that might have been frustration because Killian had absolutely been trying to antagonize Scarlet.

Will grumbled, kicking at something that wasn’t actually on the floor as Ruby’s fingers flew across her phone screen. “Does it ever rain in Los Angeles? I’d really love if it would rain. Or at least maybe a few clouds.” “You’re a pessimist, aren’t you?” “Warm, Lucas. I am warm.” “Maybe you should take a shower before media.” “Ok, see, that’s just rude.”

“They call it the sunshine state for a reason, don’t they?” “I don’t think that’s California,” Robin objected. “Cap, what’s California?” Killian made a face and held his hands up. “Why would I know that?”

“You think Emma knows?” “Why would anyone care about that?” “You guys are always doing that cutesy fact thing. And Liam totally made you learn what all the states were at some point. That’s almost too on point for him.” “He never did that, although I will pay you a good amount of money to tell Liam he missed out on some sort of academic activity. Maybe it is sunshine, then.” “That’s Florida,” Henry corrected and four wide-eyed adults stared at him. “Florida’s the sunshine state. California’s the golden state.” “How’d you know that?” “I do go to school sometimes.” “Sometimes?” “Well when you guys aren’t in the Cup Finals.” “And he’s still got homework to do,” Robin added as Henry sighed dramatically.

Killian laughed, hauling Roland up without even really considering it and everyone in a five-foot radius rolled their eyes. “You’re going to hurt yourself,” Robin muttered.

“It’s because you’re old,” Will added. “And, you know, what? You guys might have vaguely adorable children wearing your jerseys now, but, but , I’m some kind of fan favorite. What do you two say to a friendly little bet?” “What?” Killian asked, rolling his shoulder so Roland’s weight shifted a bit more comfortably. He was definitely going to hurt himself.

“A bet,” Will repeated.

“No, I heard you. I just don’t understand where this is going.” Ruby was tapping her heel impatiently and her phone hadn’t stopped making noise since they’d landed at LAX the day before. “If you guys could do this at, literally, any other time, that’d be absolutely fantastic.” “You got some kind of schedule to stick to, Lucas?” Killian asked and she glared at him.

“You know I do and you know Emma does too. Don’t act like you don’t.” He couldn’t really shrug since there was a seven-year-old wearing a Locksley jersey draped over his shoulder, but Killian hummed in agreement. He knew, had seen the to-do-list for the day that morning and Emma’s phone made almost as much noise as Ruby’s.

Will let out a low whistle, throwing a meaningful glance towards Robin. “Uh oh, Cap, were you not in your assigned room last night?” “Oh my God,” Killian sighed. “Lucas, what happened to this schedule?” Ruby made a noise in the back of her throat, smile threatening to overtake her face and Killian didn’t appreciate being backed into some sort of metaphorical corner like this. Will nearly fell over, arm clutching his side tightly as his whole body shook with laughter.

“Alright,” Ruby said sharply, falling back into business as soon as her phone vibrated four times in a row. “You’ve each got a table out there and people who want to talk to you. You sit, you answer questions, you don’t say anything stupid and, after a half an hour of this, you get up from those tables and those people and you find me and we go to Emma’s fan event and you smile for those people and then you go to skate. Got it?” “That was very efficient, Lucas,” Killian said.

“Shut up, Jones. Or I’ll tell Emma on you.” “Tell Emma what, exactly?” “That you’re being an ass.” “Ruby,” he snapped and she hissed in air through her teeth, tossing an apologetic look towards Roland.

“Sorry, Rol.”

“It’s ok,” Roland promised, never one to be too upset at the decidedly not-quite-family tendencies of a team trying to win its first Cup in several decades.

“He’s got a new jersey, he doesn’t care,” Robin reasoned. He rested his hand on Roland’s back, thumb tapping against his number and Killian wished they’d get on with media day so they could get on with the rest of the schedule and he could get back to a hotel room he hadn’t been assigned to.

This Los Angeles trip was going to be better. This wouldn’t end in fights and arguments and trade prospects. They were going to win here.

Roland moved, twisting Killian’s jacket as he tried to pull himself up to look at him. “Can I come with you, Hook?” “What?” Killian asked and Ruby had her phone out again. He heard a shutter snap and Roland had moved off his shoulder, balanced on his side and his arm and Ariel would kill him if he actually hurt himself because of this. “God, Ruby, what are you doing?” “This is painfully adorable. It should be Snapchat'ed.” “That seems more PR than you.” “That seems like none of your business,” she muttered distractedly, waving one hand in her face while her other hand sent out pictures to social media without his permission. “Bring Rol with you, it’s super cute.” Killian glanced at Robin – who seemed torn somewhere in between terrified at the prospect of arguing with the schedule and what would happen when Regina found out Roland was on the New York Rangers Snapchat. He shrugged and pulled Henry against his side.

“You want to come with me, Henry?” Robin asked. “We’ll confuse ‘em with mismatching jerseys.” Henry nodded enthusiastically and Ruby looked overjoyed. This was an addition to the schedule that would, probably, spark half a dozen headlines and it was positive and adorable and didn’t require her to do any extra work.

“Alright, mate,” Killian said, finally meeting Roland’s expectant gaze. “Let’s go talk to the horde.” Ruby groaned and he’d absolutely done it for the reaction. “Ok, well don’t call them that when you get out there,” she shouted, but Killian just waved his hand behind him as he moved down the hallway.

It wasn’t really that bad.

Roland was as good a buffer as any Killian could have asked for and half of the first round of questions were about him and his thoughts on the series and why exactly he had a nickname for the captain of the New York Rangers.

There were a lot of questions and a lot of voices and Killian wasn’t convinced his eyes hadn’t suffered permanent damage from the vaguely ridiculous amount of lights around them, but it wasn’t bad.

It was, almost, fun.

“What about the bet?”

Killian snapped his head up, eyebrows drawn low in confusion at a reporter who absolutely wasn’t from New York.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said.

“Scarlet said there was a bet.” He groaned and Roland was actually sitting on his media table now, legs crossed underneath him as he surveyed the sea of reporters around them. “Of course he did,” Killian muttered. “What did he say the terms were?”

The reporter nodded once, glancing around to make sure the rest of the media horde noticed him. Killian tried not to groan again.

“Point, hits and ice time,” he said. “Add ‘em up, subtract any penalties, and between you and Scarlet, whoever ends up with the most after the first two games of the series. Wins.” “And the losers?” “Buy the other one’s jerseys and wear ‘em before the New York games.” “Pretty tame bet.” The guy shrugged. “He said something about team competition and getting the line back on track and, well, keeping you on the first line.” “Naturally,” Killian sighed, rolling his eyes and it didn’t even surprise him that Scarlet had taken the chance to publicly mock his line demotion. That’s what he got for making fun of him before. “Anything else?” “Not about the bet.” Killian sat up a bit straighter and even Roland seemed to notice the change in the reporter’s tone, pulling up towards the front of the table to swing his legs over the edge. “What about then?” he asked.

“About you and Milah Onde.”

His mouth dropped open and Roland made a noise, a gasp of understanding that Killian didn’t quite expect from a seven-year-old. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Killian said, tongue darting over his lips and he pressed his arms against his side like he was willing the tattoo to disappear from underneath his jacket.

The reporter clicked his tongue and shook his head. “See, I’m fairly certain that you do. I’ve got sources.” “Yeah, who?” “I’m afraid I can’t just say who, but they’re credible and they put Milah Onde in the car at the same time as you when you got hurt.”

Killian swallowed and the room suddenly felt very small. It wasn’t. It was enormous. It was a goddamn conference room and there were no less than twenty different media outlets standing a few feet in front of them, every single one of them waiting for him to say something.

Anything.

He had to actually say something.

He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips together tightly, trying to force the oxygen back into his lungs and come up with something, anything, that wasn’t this moment – getting on the ice and skating and scoring and he was on some kind of multi-game point streak, they should want to talk about that.

They shouldn’t want to talk about this.

No one else knew about this. Who knew about Milah? Robin and Gina and Scarlet and Ruby and Liam and Elsa and Anna. That was it.

And Emma.

Emma knew about Milah and the accident and every single moment of that night.

Emma.

Killian opened his eyes and something felt like it had shifted in that entirely too-big conference room, staring out at a mass of reporters with an easy stare that didn’t quite make sense for whatever situation he’d stumbled into.

Emma.

Emma knew and Emma didn’t care and Emma wasn’t the source and that was enough. No matter what they printed.

“Any sort of comment, Killian?” the reporter asked, eyebrows lifted and phone held loosely in his hand. “About Milah? You know, from what I can tell by the records I’ve been given, that divorce was never final. She died before it went through.” Roland shifted on the table, turning around to look at Killian. He smiled.

“I’ve got nothing to say,” Killian answered, pulling Roland back towards him and resting his hand on the Locksley emblazoned across his back.

“What about the new one?” “Excuse me?” “Well, you two haven’t exactly been shy about it? You and the front office girl. She’s kind of a perennial dater isn’t she? Although at least this one isn’t married.”

Roland stood up and Killian didn’t even try to stop him, mouth hanging open again and breath rushing out of him and, goddamnit, where was Ruby?

“Leave Emma alone,” Roland half shouted, a response before Killian could even begin to formulate coherent thoughts.

That woke him up. “Sit down, mate,” Killian muttered and the reporter laughed.

“Thanks for the tip, kid,” he said, glancing around at the crowd that was still standing there waiting for Killian to acknowledge Milah. “Anything else you’d like to add, Cap? Maybe, what’s her name, Emma, got handed this job with the Rangers because she’s good friends with your media director? Or how you two have proved a complete distraction for this entire team throughout the season? Anything?” “We’re in the Cup Finals,” Killian answered. “Doesn’t seem like much of a distraction.” “That seemed like a confirmation, Cap.” Killian rolled his eyes. “That what you want?” “Whatever you’ll give.” “Alright,” he said sharply, hand still on Roland’s back. “Fine. I am dating Emma Swan. It is not a distraction. For me or anyone else on my team. She’s ridiculously good at her job and your source probably should have mentioned that when they were giving you the rundown on all of this. None of it, however, has anything to do with getting on the ice or winning a Cup, which is why we’re here right now. So unless you’ve got a question about that, then we’re done.” He stood up, nearly knocking the chair over behind him and Roland was still smiling. “C’mon, mate,” Killian muttered, holding his hand out. Roland jumped off the table and jogged towards Ruby, standing just a few feet away from them, looking as if the entire world was about to crash down around them.

“A little late, huh, Lucas?” he asked.

“Scarlet was explaining the bet to anyone who would listen. I didn’t….” “I know,” Killian interrupted. “It’s fine.” “It is the opposite of fine.” “That too. Who was that? He’s not from New York is he?” Ruby shook her head and, eventually, Roland was going to get tired of being pulled against people’s sides of some sort of child-based support system. “He got credentialed through the Kings. He’s like TMZ, but somehow worse since TMZ is almost actual journalism now.” “What?” “You know, they break a lot of stories and especially in sports…” “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I meant he got credentialed through the Kings? You’re sure?” “Well, I didn’t do it. So it must have been.” “Who’d be in charge of that?”

Ruby shrugged. “It depends team to team. With stuff like this it’s probably a couple of different people, honestly.” “But just you in New York?” “I’m very specific about who gets in.” “You’re a control freak is what you’re saying,” Killian laughed and Ruby actually stuck her tongue out. “So it could be media relations and PR then? Some kind of joint credential effort?” “What are you getting at?” Killian raised his eyebrows and it was almost too obvious when Ruby understood. “Oh, shit,” she muttered. “Sorry, Rol. Again. Don’t tell your dad I said that.”

“Is that possible?” Killian pressed.

“It could be,” Ruby admitted. “Cover your ears, Rol.” Roland did as instructed, smiling widely at Killian as he moved his hands. “Shit,” she repeated, stamping her foot for good measure. “God fucking damnit. Emma’s going to lose her mind. She’s going to kill him, you know that?” “I’d probably help, honestly.” “Well neither one of you can actually do that.” “No one else knows,” Killian said. “About Milah and the accident. No one except Gold. And, now, maybe, Neal who’s credentialing gossip websites to write stories about it. I don’t get it.” “For real?” Killian shrugged. “Gold is all about control,” Ruby explained. “Or that’s what it seems like at least. And if he bought the Kings last year and brought in all his new people then he did it for a reason. To win a Cup. You’re on some kind of ridiculous point streak and this team is good and this could work, Cap. This team can win. He knows it. So he’s fighting with something else. It’s a distraction, all over again.” “That’s insane.” “Nah,” Ruby objected. “That’s front office politics.” “But why drag Emma into it?” “A complete takedown. I mean, they fired her too didn’t they?”

Killian nodded slowly, breathing coming in short gasps and it did, almost, make sense. Maybe not in the real world where there was a Cup to win and a max deal to sign, but in this world where everything seemed flipped on its head, it was almost too obvious.

“He’s trying to break you apart,” Ruby continued, taking his silence for misunderstanding. “Both of you. If you’re thinking about the past and worried about Emma, then he’s winning. And the team gets distracted and the New York tabs drag you over some metaphorical coals.” “Fuck,” Killian mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “Jeez, sorry, mate.” Roland didn’t seem impressed, head tilted up to stare at him intently. “Hook,” he said and Killian hummed distractedly. “Are you and Emma going to break up?” “What? No, why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Roland mumbled, a lie so obvious Killian was surprised it didn’t come with a flashing neon sign as well.

Killian crouched down, pulling on the bottom of the brand-new jersey and Roland wouldn’t meet his eyes. “No one’s leaving, mate,” he said seriously. “I promise.” Roland nodded slowly, still staring at his shoes. “Ok,” he mumbled. “Because I like Emma.” “I do too.” “You might want to mention that,” Ruby added, pushing her phone into Killian’s face. “Several times. As soon as you see her.” Killian sighed, eyes closing lightly and it didn’t really matter because that headline was going to be seared into his memory for the rest of his life. “Cover your ears, mate,” he said before muttering every single curse he could think of.

She was working when they got to the fan event and Killian’s phone battery was somewhere in the realm of very dead , a string of text messages from half a dozen people who all demanded to know what was going on .

Elsa had sent the link to the tweet.

As if he hadn’t seen it. And thought about nothing except the tweet the entire car ride to the fan event.

Regina was, apparently, going to kill him.

She’d have to get in line.

“Come on, Cap,” Ruby muttered, pushing on the back of his jacket as he stepped through the door. “One foot in front of the other.”

Robin shot her a meaningful look – his phone in his hand and Regina was texting all of them now – but Ruby didn’t move her hand or stop muttering semi-supportive nonsense in Killian’s ear as he walked into the restaurant.

“Lucas, I haven’t lost my motor skills,” he hissed and Emma, somehow, managed to hear that, even with Merida a few feet behind her and a crease between her eyebrows.

They’d hit traffic.

Los Angeles was the worst city in the entire world.

“Hey,” Emma shouted, waving her hand towards a table and a line of fans. There was merch everywhere. She was wearing merch – a shirt with Cup Readyemblazoned across the front and Killian bit the inside of his lip to stop himself from kissing her right there in the middle of a chain restaurant in downtown Los Angeles.

“We hit traffic,” Killian explained, answering a question he hadn’t actually been asked. Emma lowered her eyebrows.

“You ok?”

“Fine.” “Jones.” “You didn’t get any text messages did you? Actual phone calls? Mary Margaret planning my death in frightening detail?” Emma tilted her head, a shadow of a smile tugging on the ends of her mouth and she crossed her arms slowly, staring at him like he’d started speaking a different language. They were very behind schedule. And his phone vibrated again.

“I haven’t been able to check my phone,” Emma said. “I’ve been kind of busy trying to make sure the fans didn’t start rioting when you guys were ten minutes late.” “Traffic.”

“So you mentioned.” “If we go talk somewhere right now, do you think the fans will actually start to riot?” Emma tugged her hair back over her shoulder, lip pressed tightly in between her teeth and she shook her head. “Mer,” she yelled, glancing over her shoulder at her assistant. “Get them all in line and Locksley and Scarlet can sign and photo op now.” “What about Cap?” Merida asked, nodding in Killian’s direction. He’d never actually sat down.

“Later.” Merida didn’t object. She very clearly wanted to. “Ok,” she said. “Here’s your phone, boss. You left it in the kitchen. It’s been buzzing nonstop.” “Of course it has.” Killian groaned. “Merida, is there somewhere that isn’t filled with chanting fans right now?” “Probably the kitchen,” she answered, moving her shoulder in the same direction she’d walked out of a few moments before.

“Alright. Come on, Swan.” He held his hand out without really thinking about it and the fans cheered when they weaved their way through the crowd, some of them trying to pat him on the back while others shouted detailed game plans that absolutely would not work on the ice.

Killian counted no less than five different shutter snaps and Emma’s hand was wrapped up in his. They pushed their way through the kitchen and a few employees glanced up at the sound, eyes going wide when they noticed Killian.

Two more shutter snaps.

“Jesus Christ,” he grumbled, pulling Emma behind him towards a corner and this was ridiculous.

“What’s going on with you?” Emma asked. Her phone buzzed in her hand.

“You should probably read those. I bet El sent you the link too.” “Link?”

“Tweet. Screenshot. Whatever. I wouldn’t be surprised if Banana had some very detailed opinions for you as well. She sent me ten text messages in a row.”

“About?” Killian sighed and there was no way around it. They had to talk about it. They had to resolutely ignore it. And make sure David didn’t follow through on any of the threats he’d sent Killian’s way that afternoon.

“There was a guy at media,” Killian started. “From some gossip site.” “A gossip site?” “Yeah. Started asking about some bet Scarlet wants us to agree to during the Finals and then all of the sudden started asking about...Milah.” Emma’s eyes widened and she reached her hand out quickly, gripping the front of his jacket of instinct. That almost made him feel better.

“Wait, what,” she sputtered, glancing around the kitchen like that guy’s source would suddenly appear in front of them. Just another shutter click. “Who would know that? I thought…” “No, you’re right, Swan.” “Gold?” Killian nodded slowly, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek, and Emma’s eyes, somehow, got wider. “Lucas thinks so. And, well, maybe someone else.” “I don’t understand.” “Neal.” “Oh shit.” “Exactly.” “Is that who Ruby thinks credentialed this gossip guy?” “Smart, Swan,” Killian smiled and maybe he did actually feel better.

“I don’t know if that’s an actual compliment. God, what an ass. Ruby said she didn’t credential that guy?” Killian shook his head and Elsa needed to put her phone down. The text messages were nonstop. She’d probably teamed up with Anna. And he was too busy worried about his own phone that he didn’t notice Emma looking down at hers, only realizing what had happened when she let out a low whistle and took another step towards him.

“Is this real?” Emma asked, voice low and Killian’s shoulders sagged under the weight of disappointment three words could hold.

“Yeah.” “Like...this is out there. In the world. On the internet. Where people can see it?” “Yeah,” he repeated. He deserved every single threat David had sent him. And the ones Regina sent. And the ones Elsa and Anna were, probably, coming up with while he stood stock still in a kitchen with Emma still staring at your phone.

It wasn’t much of a story – more a headline with a Swan pun and Emma’s picture and promises of all the details of her trail of NHL stars and how she got her job in New York, something in that final paragraph about her and Killian and what she’d done to get her own department.

It wasn’t intelligent writing. It was drivel. It was stupid.

It was all over the goddamn internet.

“Who sent it to you?” Killian asked, positive he didn’t actually want the answer. He wanted to get on the ice. He wanted to hit something.

He wanted to kiss Emma without a kitchen employee taking another picture of them.

“El,” Emma answered.

“Of course. You know, you’d think she had other things to do.” “Oh God, Anna is texting me? I think. I don’t actually have her number.”

“Here let me see,” Killian said, holding his hand out. He didn’t even have to look at the number. The whole message was in caps lock. “Yeah, that’s Banana. El probably gave her your number. They’ve been taking turns yelling at me for the last forty-five minutes.” “Yelling? Why?”

She looked genuinely confused and maybe just a bit protective or defensive. Huh.

“Swan, did you read the story?” “I mean it’s not really much of a story.” “That’s true,” Killian admitted. “But this is exactly what you were worried about from the very beginning. This is, well, this is everything you didn’t want on some sort of national scale. El and Banana aren’t very happy with me. Neither are Regina or David, for that matter.” “David?” “I think it made it onto the subReddit.”

“Jeez. I’ll text him.” “No, no,” Killian said quickly, fingers wrapping around her wrist as she tried to swipe her thumb across her phone. “Don’t do that.” “What?” “Don’t text David. It’s not...he’s not wrong.” “This is all wrong,” Emma argued, tapping her finger on the side of her phone. “I mean aside from the us dating, but that’s been kind of obvious. God, did they try and make it seem like Graham and I dated?”

She laughed. She actually laughed, smile on her face and eyes tracing across his face and Killian wasn’t certain he’d loved her more than he did right then.

In the middle of a kitchen with fans chanting for him a few feet away.

“Is this the part of the conversation where I say that everyone is probably halfway in love with you, whether they dated you or not?” Killian asked and it was far too easy to talk to her.

It always had been. From the very beginning. It was far too easy to tease and joke and his pulse pounded in his ears, far too focused on Emma’s reaction to one tweet than any potential story about someone he loved six years ago.

Emma rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling and she muttered charmer under her breath. “Are you ok?” she asked.

“Swan, you can’t possibly be asking me that.” “I just did. What else did the guy say?” “Are we not worried about this? David went into some very specific details about what he was going to do when we landed in New York.” “Yeah, well he’s always been absurdly overprotective. I’m surprised he did that though, he’s very worried about messing up your pre-game schedule.” “I think he’s more worried about you.” She shrugged – a dismissive move that sent a shockwave of something down Killian’s spine and it might have been his own need to protect. “Swan,” Killian continued, fingers still wrapped around her wrist. “I’m serious.” “So am I. Come on, tell me what this guy said.”

Killian took a deep breath and Emma didn’t blink, just stared and waited for an answer. “He knew she was in the car.” “What?”

“Yeah.” “And he just told you that? He didn’t want a comment?” “Oh, no he definitely wanted a comment.” “You didn’t yell at him did you?” “I know how to answer questions, Swan,” Killian sighed. Emma made a face and there wasn’t really any space in between them, but she found some anyway, forehead resting on his chest and he couldn’t stop himself from moving, lips brushing over her hair as his hand wrapped around her waist. “And it was no comment. Or something like that.” “Something like that,” she repeated, voice muffled just a bit by his jacket. “Where was Ruby this whole time?” “Dealing with Scarlet and the bet.” “That almost doesn’t surprise me.” “A distraction.” Emma scoffed, tapping out a rhythm against his side, and he kissed her again. It was too easy. And she hadn’t run. She’d leaned against him – quite literally.

“I love you,” Emma mumbled and Killian squeezed his eyes closed.

“I love you too, Swan. More than anything.” More than gossip sites or ex-boyfriends giving out credentials to less-than-reputable news sources or even a team owner who, it appeared, wanted to tear Killian down from the past to the present.

He didn’t say that part.

He didn’t really have to.

“Some sort of team, right?” Emma asked. “That was the agreement.” “An enthusiastic one.” “Then we’ll deal with it. Let them write whatever they want about me.” The kitchen door swung open and they both should have expected Regina sooner, but they’d already spent far too much time in that kitchen. “Are you kidding?” Regina snapped, staring at Killian. “You walked out?” “You walked out?” Emma said, head pulled up and mouth hanging open and there was nowhere to actually hide in the middle of a kitchen. “I thought you said you told them no comment.” “Oh he told them that too, but not before he actually confirmed you two were dating and then stormed out and then promised my kid that you two weren’t ever going to break up.” “There was no storming, Gina,” Killian muttered. Emma hadn’t blinked yet.

“Well there was enough to warrant an ESPN blog post and you know who that doesn’t look good to? Front office. That’s who. Front office that you’ve let decide your entire future.” “I’m not an idiot.” “Could have fooled me.”

Emma blinked, turning so quickly she nearly lost her balance and Killian’s hand tightened around her waist. “Can he sue?” she asked, sounding as if she’d been considering legal action for the better part of this entire conversation.

Regina blinked once, lips twisting in thought and she hummed in frustration before she actually answered. “I don’t think so.” “Isn’t that libel?” “Not if it’s true,” Regina sighed. “And, well, Milah was in the car. I mean they didn’t do anything wrong, not really. But it…” “Doesn’t look good,” Emma finished. “Yeah, I got that.”

“I can’t stop it either. They’re going to run it before the game.” “How do you know that?” “I called the site, demanded an editor, got an incompetent idiot and was informed that the story was already set. Nothing I can do about it.” Killian wasn’t quite as angry at Regina anymore. “Thanks, Gina,” he said softly and she clicked her tongue in response.

“Your assistant is going nuts out there by the way,” Regina continued, glancing at Emma. “They all want Killian.”

“Ok,” Emma said. “Two minutes.” Regina nodded, gaze darting towards Killian. He tried to look somewhere in the area of confident and he could hear the crowd outside shouting his name, but it had been an exhausting day and the story was going to run no matter what.

Emma didn’t turn back towards him until Regina’s heels had retreated completely, both hands flat on his chest. “You told Roland no one was breaking up with anyone? Ever?” He didn’t expect that question.

“Uh, yeah,” Killian answered, stammering over the two words. “He was, uh, he was worried we were going to break up. Because of the story.” “And what did you say?” “I promised him that no one was leaving. And that I liked you too.” “Too?” “Rol wanted to make sure I knew he liked you.” “Oh.” Emma bit her lip, eyes falling towards the floor as she took a deep breath. “I’m not,” she whispered.” “Not what?” “Leaving. Or running. Even if they print everything. And I like you too.” He moved and Emma moved and there might have been another shutter click and another tweet, but they kissed each other anyway. Killian smiled for all of afternoon skate.

“Alright, so the rules of the bet are simple,” Will started, leaning up against the boards in the corner of the Staples Center with the edge of his skate pressing into the ice.

“Scarlet, we don’t have time for this,” Killian sighed, retreating back towards the line and warmups and it was already absurdly loud. He glanced up, a general idea of where the team boxes were and where Emma was sitting. Or would be sitting when she wasn’t helping Ruby run media requests.

It didn’t really make sense – she was in charge of her own department, after all – but Ruby had asked and Emma couldn’t bring herself to argue and it was so impossibly nice , Killian couldn’t stop himself from smiling whenever he thought about it.

“What’s he smiling about?” Robin muttered, knocking his shoulder against Will’s when he skidded to a stop.

Will shrugged. “Probably Emma. Or trying to win our bet.” “It’s definitely not your bet,” Killian mumbled, twisting his stick in his hands.

“Ew.” “Isn’t Belle supposed to be here for Game 2?” “What does that have to do with anything?” “Absolutely nothing. Fine, tell me the rules of the bet.” They were, surprisingly, almost exactly what the reporter had told him during media day and they really didn’t have time for some sort of side bet during the Stanley Cup Finals, but it had been a frustrating twenty-four hours and if Killian got to win a bet and brag in front of Scarlet then he’d make time for a side bet.

Killian won the first period, two shots on net and four hits and Will was whistled for a two-minute slash that drew the ire of Arthur during intermission. Will won the second – he scored. And that was, apparently, worth six points in whatever game they were playing.

“So you’re telling me, suddenly, you’re ahead?” Killian asked, tilting his head towards Will as Robin grumbled about focusing on the game as soon as they swung their legs over the boards.

“My game, my rules, Cap,” Will answered. He lowered his shoulder when he got back onto the ice, connecting on another hit and the Kings player next to him barely managed to stay on his skates. “And I’m beating the crap out of you now. Did you see that hit?” “I am on the ice with you Scarlet.” Arthur shouted something from the bench and Robin glared at both of them meaningfully. Will just laughed.

“Did we ever decide on terms?” Killian asked, pushing into the zone and he could feel a defender on his left side. It didn’t really matter. He was faster than just about anyone on the entire Kings roster.

He took the shot and missed wide right, but Robin was just a few feet away and he’d probably say it was a pass anyway. Robin’s shot went in.

They were winning.

Killian yelled, punching air and it probably looked as ridiculous as it felt, but they were winning Game 1 of the Stanley Cup Finals and there were only a few minutes left in the third. And that probably meant he was winning the bet too.

Unless Scarlet was cheating.

Robin groaned when Killian threw his arms around him, shouting nice shot in his ear like he didn’t know it was a fucking fantastic shot. “Maybe Gina won’t kill me now,” Killian added. “Setting you up like that.”

“You weren’t trying to pass to me.” “You don’t know that.” “I absolutely do.” “Whatever. Good goal. Good almost-pass. And I’m totally beating Scarlet now.” “That’s not even remotely true, Cap,” Will argued, clapping Robin on the shoulder as they skated back to the bench, a line of hands held out in front of them, ready for post-goal celebrations.

“How you figure? Assists have to be three, right? That’d put me somewhere in the double digits.” “Your math is horrible.” “You’re making up these rules as you go along!” Arthur actually stopped chewing his gum to yell at them, stepping off the bench and leaning over the boards to grab both of them by the scruff of their jerseys. “If you two don’t shut up about this goddamn bet,” he hissed, “then Regina Mills is not the only one who is going to be trying to kill you. She will have to learn how to bring you both back from the dead since I’ll have done the job already.” “Jeez. That’s harsh Arthur,” Killian muttered as Will let out a low whistle. “And don’t let her hear you mess up her name like that. Regina Mills-Locksley. It says so on her business cards.

“Plus,” Will added, “Gina only wants to kill Cap.” Arthur narrowed his eyes. “I will make sure she is intent on killing both of you. Got it?”

Arthur wasn’t going to kill them for the bet – whatever the rules of it actually were – he was going to murder his whole team for a complete lack of defense in the final minute and a half of Game 1 of the Stanley Cup Finals.

They lost. Another overtime loss and it wasn’t really anyone’s fault – a good shot on a quick turnaround and none of them had moved fast enough.

There were more questions after the game.

They weren’t actually about the game.

No one actually wanted to talk about anything that happened on the ice and Killian couldn’t actually throw things in front of his visitor’s locker because that would actually get Regina to follow through on those threats from the day before.

He’d hurt his hand at some point too, probably when he got hit during the third period and there was a bruise inching its way across his wrist and maybe one on his shoulder already as well. Every muscle hurt and he was exhausted and no one wanted to talk about the game. They wanted to talk about the story.

They kept using Milah’s name.

And he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t move, just had to sit there and keep muttering no comment like that actually meant anything, while desperately wanting someone, anyone , to ask him about losing Game 1 of the Stanley Cup Finals.

“Enough,” Robin shouted a few feet away, pushing through the throng of outstretched hands and cellphones that wouldn’t get away from Killian’s locker. “Enough! God, leave him alone. Ask a question about the goddamn game.” Will wasn’t far behind him, a look on his face that Killian hadn’t seen in years – since Liam got hurt. The crowd turned on both of them, arms still stretched out and questions ringing in the air and Killian could hear Ruby’s heels echoing down the hallway.

She was running.

Did you know Milah was married? Did you know she was married to Gold? Have you talked to Gold since you’ve been in LA, Cap? What does Emma think? Does Emma know? Hey, can we talk to Emma?

“Shut up,” Will sighed, twisting in between two sets of recorders to tug on Killian’s shoulder. “Come on, Cap. You’re done here.” Killian got on his feet and the crowd split in front of him – albeit with a good amount of grumbling and even more questions and his head snapped around when someone shouted Emma’s name again.

“Stop talking,” Killian muttered, eyes narrowed and voice low and he hadn’t actually taken his pads off yet. The reporter in front of him took a step back. “Don’t ask me about Emma again. Don’t ask me about Milah again. Ask me about the game. That’s why I am here. To play a game.” The reporter flipped his wrist and pushed his phone towards Killian’s face. “Thoughts on losing in Game 1 and how it might affect your deal, Cap?”

Killian sighed loudly and Will actually sounded like he was going to punch this reporter in the face, but no one actually moved – until another voice started talking. He muttered under his breath and Robin shifted next to him, arms crossed and eyebrows pulled low and they had to play another game in Los Angeles before all of this was over.

“Guys, guys, guys,” Neal laughed, pushing through the reporters with a smile on his face. “Come on, you know the rules. Once he leaves the locker, it’s over. That’s how it’s always been.” Killian’s jaw ticked as he tried to press his teeth together tightly, chanting the word fine in his head like some kind of mantra that would stop him from actually doing something stupid.

“Come on, Killian,” Neal continued, brushing by Robin to sling his arm over Killian’s shoulder.

Killian pushed him off, running his hand through his hair and shaking his head quickly. “I’ve got it,” he said. “They ask questions about the game and I’ll answer them.” Ruby skidded to a stop in the doorway of the locker room – something that looked like the actual embodiment of murder in her gaze as soon as she glanced Neal’s direction. And he didn’t look quite as confident anymore.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing in my locker room Cassidy?” Ruby asked, voice low and intent and her eyes were barely more than slits. They might have been shooting lasers too.

Killian was only half paying attention, gaze darting up when he, somehow, heard another set of shoes and Emma was standing in the doorway of the locker room, her blazer pinched underneath her arm and concern etched into every single corner of her face.

Neal laughed again, shoulders straightening as he found his voice again. “Your locker room, Ruby? Now you know that’s not true. You guys are guests here.” “Leave my players alone, Cassidy.” Neal clicked his tongue and Emma didn’t just roll her eyes at the sound, she rolled her whole head, groaning slightly for good measure. It almost made Killian laugh.

Until the reporters realized Emma was there.

They turned quickly, jockeying for position and someone shouted a string of less-than-professional words when their phone got knocked out of their hands. She blinked once, taken aback by the onslaught of questions and statements and Neal clicked his tongue again.

“Hey, Ems,” he said evenly, taking a step towards her as she pushed her arms back into her blazer. “Good game, huh?” He took another step forward and Emma backed up, the concern that had been on her face morphing into something that almost resembled disgust.

“Move, Cap,” Robin muttered, pushing on his shoulder for good measure and Killian nodded as he brushed by Neal and laced his fingers through Emma’s.

“Let’s get out of here, Swan,” Killian said, already half a step into the hallway as he tugged his jersey over his head.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Neal shouted and there were more camera clicks and unanswered questions as he slammed the locker room door shut. “I wanted to talk to you.” “Leave me alone, Neal,” Emma yelled, not even bothering to turn around.

“Not you. Killian.” The entire New York Rangers contingent stopped, turning around in near-perfect time and Neal’s eyes widened. “You know,” he continued, “by himself.” “No,” Robin and Will said at the same time, matching sounds of disgust in their voice and Ruby actually laughed, the sound of it echoing off the hallway’s walls.

Neal looked nonplussed, obviously certain just saying he wanted to talk to Killian would work – as if they were old friends and Neal’s eyes didn’t keep darting to Emma’s hand, still wrapped up in Killian’s with her laces hitting against her wrist.

“I just, uh, wanted to talk,” Neal added. Emma scoffed. “Maybe ask a couple of questions?” “I don’t have time for that,” Killian said.

“Just a few minutes?” “No.”

He didn’t wait for Neal to respond, hardly even paused after the word was out of his mouth before squeezing Emma’s hand slightly and leading some sort of quasi Rangers-parade out of the Staples Center visitors locker room.

“Did you win the bet?” Emma asked softly, pressing up on her toes to mutter the words into his ear.

“How’d you know that happened?” “Will told Ruby who told Dor who told someone at SI and it ended up online in between the first and second period.” “Efficient.” She hummed in the back of her throat and she never actually let go of his hand, even when they moved into the backseat of a team-provided town car with Scarlet in the front seat, muttering under his breath about being the kid on this team.

“What are you guys even playing for?” Emma asked. “I mean if there’s a bet, there’s got to be some kind of prize, right?” “That reporter yesterday said something about wearing each other’s jerseys, but Scarlet’s changing the rules whenever he sees fit, so who knows.” “That’s rude, Cap,” Will grumbled, propping his heels up on the dashboard.

“You’re going to scuff that,” Emma said. “Are you really changing the rules though?” “I have no idea what either one of you is talking about.” “You should probably write it down. Your point system or however we’re marking this.”

Will pulled his feet back down and twisted around to stare at Emma questioningly. “You know,” he said slowly, “I think you’re just as competitive as Cap is.” “Maybe,” Emma shrugged and Killian, finally, felt like he was breathing normally again. “Tell me the rules, Scarlet.” They wrote them down. Or, at least, typed them into Emma’s phone and there was a point system and Emma’s promise that she’d keep track of of every single one of them was still ringing in his ears by the time they opened the hotel room door they weren’t supposed to be sharing.

“You know,” Killian said, turning Emma until she was walking backwards into the room with his hands on her hips. “You were somewhere bordering close to protective in the last two days, love.” “Was I?” she asked and he’d probably remember how breathless her question was for the next two days they were in that stupid city.

“Bordering close to it.” “Weird.” “Absolutely.”

She laughed when her legs hit up against the bed, the smile on her face feeling like it had settled in the pit of his stomach or shot down his spine and Killian brushed his fingers through her hair, pushing it back behind her ears until his hand lingered on her neck. It left goosebumps. That felt like a bit of a victory too. “So I take it you didn’t win tonight, then?” Emma asked. “The bet, I mean. If Will was just changing up rules.” “Eh, it almost doesn’t matter.” “Over-competitive weirdo.” “Almost always.” She laughed again, tapping out a rhythm on the front of his jacket. “That’s ok,” Emma said and Killian got the distinct impression they weren’t talking about weird, hockey side bets anymore. “There’s still a lot of series left to play.” “That’s true.” “So you can totally beat up on Scarlet.” “Is it strange that you’re advocating me beating up on my own teammate, Swan?” Killian asked and he didn’t remember actually laying down. Or when Emma’s head landed on his shoulder, just appreciated that it was there and her hand hadn’t moved away from his shirt.

“Yeah, well,” she muttered. “I might be an over-competitive weirdo too.”

“Oh that’s absolutely true.”

Emma smacked at his shoulder and Killian tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her flush against his side and kissing the top of her head. And he didn’t remember when they started kissing each other either, just happy that they were, twisted around in hotel-supplied blankets before they’d even taken their shoes off.

He didn’t care about the story. He didn’t care about Neal. The only thing he’d ever really cared about was the game and, now, Emma Swan.

And there was a lot of series left to play.

#cs ff #cs fic #captain swan ff #captain swan #csbb #blue line #everyone hates neal #pass it on

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mattmercerbignaturals · 5 years

Text

A Garden for Two Ch. 2 (2148 words)

Ruby had become a regular at the gardens with Beacon’s unofficial caretaker. Every Thursday night, right after training with her team, she would show up just before nightfall and they would watch the sunset together through the dome and talk. The waning light would cast the room in a soft orange glow, allowing some of the flowers to pop in ways that were nothing short of dazzling. After several weeks had passed, one day, Ruby showed up in a very un-Ruby-like mood.

She flopped down onto the makeshift stone bench, as she had grown tired of attempting to sit cross-legged, citing that it made her limbs fall asleep. Her face was set in a deep frown as she propped her head up on her fists.

“What do you do when someone needs help but won’t let you help them?” Yatsuhashi cracked open an eye, turning to face his friend.

“If I had such an answer, I would share it.” That isn’t helpful. The eye closed and his breathing evened out. Quiet took over, leaving Ruby alone with her thoughts. Well, her thoughts and an incessant tapping noise. The girl looked to her friend to see one massive foot moving back and forth, the sole of his boot striking the concrete over and over. She looked to his arms, usually calm and relaxed. Now though, she could trace the veins on his forearm like a roadmap. Finally, there was his eyes. They were shut like he was afraid something would pluck the eyeball from his head, his face scrunched in a manner that made it plain he was anything but relaxed.

“Are you OK, Yatsu?” His eye opened again and he nodded.

“Of course.” He opened his other eye, cocking his head. “Are you?” She nodded, plastering on a smile that looked more like something stolen from a mannequin than a normal human facial expression. He shot her a look and the face crumbled. She leaned back, letting out a groan that was much louder than one would’ve thought her tiny body could produce.

“Cardin’s a big jerk!” As the name left her lips, Yatsu’s hand clenched into a tight fist and his jaw tensed. His mouth barely opened as he replied.

“Yes, yes he is.” Ruby popped from her seat, pacing back and forth across the stone.

“What gives him the right to bully other people just because they’re weaker than him, huh? So what if Jaune’s a bad fighter, and not good at school work, and smaller than him? That doesn’t mean he can pick on him! When someone needs help, you’re supposed to actually help them! Not make everything worse. But nooooooooooooooooo! Cardin needs to show off and prove how big and tough he is!” She threw her arms in the air in exasperation. “All it shows is that he’s a big dumb jerk.”

“I take it that this “Jaune” is a target of his as well?” She nodded.

“Yeah! We all see it! Cardin trips him in the hall, slaps his books out of his hands, and shoots spitballs at him in class. The worst of it is that Jaune won’t let us help him. We’ve all offered to step in, his partner Pyrrha’s even tried to actually stand up for him but he stops us every time.” She groaned, plopping down on the stone bench again. “Why won’t he let us help him?” Yatsu had all but given up on his attempts at meditating, instead choosing to rest his hands on his knees.

“I would tell you if I knew.” For a moment, the only sounds were chirping birds and blowing leaves.

“Wait a second, you said “as well”, is Cardin bullying one of your friends too?” Yatsu inclined his head, his mouth set in a thin line. “Can I ask who?” He was quiet for a beat.

“Do you remember my teammate Velvet? I mentioned her some time ago.” Ruby nodded.

“The Faunus girl, right? With the big bunny ears?” He nodded, it took a moment for Ruby to process what he said but when she did, her eyes went wide. “Cardin’s bullying an upperclassman!?” Yatsu simply sighed, nodding again. “Why doesn’t she just beat him up and get him to stop?”

“I could ask the same of your friend, Jaune.” Ruby wrung her hands, eyes finding the floor. If she thought that would help, she would’ve suggested it by now.

“Jaune’s not the best fighter…” Yatsu gave a grunt of acknowledgement.

“I can’t say the same for Velvet. As for her reason for not standing up for herself…” He sighed. “She says that violence doesn’t solve these kinds of things.” He shook his head. “Unfortunately, she seems to be unable to be swayed to another course of action.”

They were both being silly. Jaune should let Ruby and Co. deal with Cardin then he’d leave him alone. Velvet should easily be able to beat him up, maybe even his whole team. Ruby groaned, throwing her hands up in the air as her voice slipped into a mocking tone.

“She sounds like my dad. He’s always saying stuff like that “violence never solved anything”, “drink your milk”, “no boys until you’re thirty” blah blah blah. Then why do we fight Grimm if violence isn’t the answer, huh?” She crossed her arms, thinking back to all the times she brought up this argument. None of them ever ended up swaying her dad, he just said that “that’s something entirely different” and sent her to her room or something.

Yatsu chuckled into his fist. A sound that made the butterflies in her stomach begin to flutter. She shouted internally for them to quit it before shifting her attention back to her friend.

“My father said much of the same, Dad on the other hand always told me to not leave bruises.

Ruby scoffed and gestured to her massive friend.

“I think if you hit someone, it’s going to leave a bruise no matter what.”

Yatsu smiled and looked up into the orange tinted skies above. It had been a gorgeous day on campus as some warm air finally made its appearance, balancing out the autumn chill.

“I wasn’t always this large, Ruby. Even I was small once.” He said with a chuckle. Ruby waved him off.

“Sure you were, I’ll believe that when I see it.” He stared at her for a second before pulling out his Scroll and typing out a message. Well, if one could consider jabbing one finger into the keypad, hitting several keys simultaneously, and then frantically hitting delete over and over to be “typing.”

“I’ll have proof momentarily.” As if on cue, the Scroll dinged and he smiled. Ruby plopped down next to her friend and he turned the screen to her. She was greeted to the image of six children with a stout man with closely cropped sandy brown hair and a wicked scar that went diagonally over his lips. Standing on the man’s right, his arm on his shoulder, was unmistakably Yatsuhashi.

“Oh. My. Gosh!! You were so small!!!” The boy was barely four feet tall and couldn’t have been more than fifty, maybe fifty-five pounds if Ruby was being generous. Yatsu nodded his head, another n small smile finding his lips.

“Indeed, I was.” Ruby stole the Scroll away, tapping the screen for a closer look at everyone. The children were lined up in front of the stout man, all throwing up two fingers in a V shape. They looked positively adorable in their little white outfits that were at least a size too big and the bright white belts that some of the kids were using like a headband.

“The guy with his hand on your shoulder, that’s your teacher, right?” Yatsu nodded.

“Correct. He’s also one of my fathers, Clay. He ran the studio out of the back of our home.” Ruby nodded, studying the man again. Not only was the scarring evident on his face, his hands held a fair few of their own. He was also missing one of his front teeth.

“It’s the tooth, isn’t it?” Ruby cocked her head to the side. “You’re staring at his missing tooth, aren’t you?” She began to babble out a response. Stupid Ruby, stupid stupid stupid! Dad always told you not to stare at people, that it was rude! Yatsu held up a hand.

“It’s fine.” He took a breath and nodded. “Clay… had a rough life before he met my other father, Oliver. You see, the style he teaches is known as bajiquan, or “eight-extreme fists”. It’s been passed through his family for generations as they were among the few who preserved the tradition after so long. He was an only child and when he told his family that he was never going to produce a biological child to pass along the art, they were… less than enthused.” Before she could think about it, she found her hand going to his arm, giving a gentle squeeze. She pushed the Scroll into his face with the other.

“Does this look like a man who regrets the choices he’s made?” Yatsu was silent for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. No he does not.” He placed a massive paw over hers. “Thank you, Ruby.” He stared down at the picture again before chuckling. “It’s funny in a way, Clay passed on some of his teachings to me, hoping I would never have to use them, especially against bullies.”

“You never had to, right? I mean, who was going to mess with the Master’s son? That’d be stupid.” Yatsu shrugged.

“You would be surprised what children think they can get away with when adults aren’t looking.” Rub’s eyes widened.

“Wait, you were bullied?” He gave a halfhearted nod.

“It wasn’t for long, barely two months, but it happened. Like you said, I was small and some of them thought I received special treatment from Clay. They might have been right on that latter account, but my father did his best to treat all as equals.”

“Well, how did you deal with them? Did you tell your dads? Did you beat them up?” Ruby hopped to her feet in an instant, throwing out flurries of kicks and punches at nothing in particular. Her mind screamed at her to stop, that she was embarrassing herself again but the laugh that came from her friend made it worth it.

“I stood up for myself and said that I wasn’t going to take it anymore. Naturally, they pushed back against me and then, yes, I beat them up.” Ruby threw her fist in the air, nearly jumping for joy.

“Good!” She smiled, sitting back down at his side. For moment, they say in peaceful silence. The fractured moon was rising up into the air, night having taken hold. She stared upwards at it before sighing. “Why won’t Jaune and Velvet do what you did?” Yatsu’s gaze followed Ruby’s. His even breathing helped enhance the calming effect of the area and she felt her hand creep towards his on the stone.

Bad Ruby! No! You’re just friends and even if you weren’t, he’s eighteen and you’re fifteen! What if he’s seeing someone? What if he doesn’t even like girls? But still, her hand inched onwards. Thankfully, his voice broke her out of her trance, causing her to shake her head.

“I cannot say. We can only hope that they come around in time.” Ruby felt heat travel up her cheeks as Yatsu turned to her. “Your cheeks are red. Are you feeling well?” She hopped up to her feet, throwing up her hand in a salute that she knew she’d mentally flog herself over later.

“Never better!” She gave an awkward laugh. Ruby needed to get out of there before she embarrassed herself any further. So, she faked a yawn, adding a soft moan and stretching to hopefully make it look more natural. “It’s getting late and I have class tomorrow I should get going.” Yatsu stared at her and for a moment she thought he was going to call her bluff, or worse, offer to walk her back to her dorm. Yang would never let her hear the end of it if that happened. He checked his Scroll and nodded.

“You’re right, I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time.” Just then, the piece of technology chimed and the face of a dark-skinned girl with bright blonde, almost white, hair appeared on screen. A small smiled played at her large friend’s lips. “Goodnight Ruby.” She nodded vigorously, waving off his mention of monopolizing her time.

“Goodnight Yatsu, sweet dreams.” He nodded

“To you as well.” Ruby nearly sprinted from the gardens as she tried to justify holding hands with Yatsu in her mind. We’re just friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S. She repeated the thought all the way back to her dorm.

#ruby rose #yatsuhashi daichi #rwby fanfiction #sweetie pie #Phil writes #rwby #gay dads

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