𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲'𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐕𝐈𝐈

Saturday uses one arm to prop himself up as the other lies on his lap. "The last thing I remember I was walking outside feeling a mixture of rage, pity and self-disgust." 

Xaviera scoffs.

"I never felt that way before." he confesses in his deep voice to the two girls standing before him, emotionlessly.

"Losing to Bianco has that effect on people, I think." she grins as she says.

"Then I looked up and saw that gargoyle coming down and I thought, at least I'll have an imaginative death."

He gives Misaki a look. "Then you pushed me out of the way, and you," she looks at Xaviera, "you helped bring me to the infirmary."

He looks at Misaki again and asks: "Why?" as if to say that he would have preferred that she stayed in her place and let him die.

"It was instinct Master Saturday." she says melodically, softly, bowing her head, her two long black braids dangling. 

He looks towards Xaviera. "So you were guided by latent chivalry, the tool of the patriarchy, to extract my undying gratitude?"

Xaviera nods somewhat defeatedly.

"Mm-hmm. Most people just say thank you."

He looks back at Misaki. "I didn't want to be rescued."

Xaviera grins at Misaki and she looks back cautiously, she didn't want to induce more rage from her Master.

"Master, I can't just stand there and let the statue smash you...!" says Misaki as she looks at her Master, the emotion evident in her soft voice.

"I would have rather saved myself." replies Saturday coldly.

"Good to see you haven't changed." scoffs Xaviera. "If it makes you feel any better, let's just say I returned the favour."

Saturday glances at his maid expectantly.

She bowed her head and didn't return his piercing gaze.

"Xaviera Thorpe? You probably don't remember me. Last time we met, I was about two feet shorter, 40 pounds heavier."

"What happened?" questions Saturday, his voice betraying some sort of gentleness of tone.

She exhales. "Puberty, I guess."

"What happened the last time we met?"

Misaki looks apprehensively from her Master to Xaviera.

She grins. "Oh. Uh. Yeah, it...it was my godfather's funeral. Apparently he was friends with your grandfather, and they spent their twenties in Europe, swindling the rich and notorious."

Saturday's eyeballs look towards the side.

"I don't know, but we were ten, and we were bored, decided to play hide and seek. I had the inspired idea to hide in his casket." She smiles as she says. "I got stuck as it was headed to the crematorium."

Saturday's lips tilted upwards ever so slightly as he looks at Xaviera. "I'd heard muffled screams. I just figured your godfather had somehow cheated death and was trying to claw his way out."

"Either way, you hit the big red stop button and saved me from being flame-broiled. So..." Xaviera trails off. "now we're even."

☟☟☟

The sound of typewriter keys clacking could be heard ever so slightly as the sky darkened a little.

♪ Ay de mí, LIorona ♪

The song was being played by a record player. Its large golden horn playing the beautiful melody.

Saturday sat at his writing desk in his black school uniform, save for the unwrinkled white shirt, with his black and grey striped blazer off to the side, busy at work.

♪ LIorona, tú eres mi chunca ♪

The bed adjacent to him squeaks. Saturday stops and slowly turns around.

♪ Ay de mí, LIorona ♪

♪ LIorona, tú eres mi chunca... ♪

He softly gets up and walks to the black-sheet covered bed and abruptly flips open the sheets.

"I knew it." 

The severed, stitched hand is revealed as it moves about, uneasily.

"Hello, Thing." says Saturday, his delicious lips tilting upwards.

☟☟☟