Mischievous Function

Who Will Be the Judge?!

Behind the hotel...

"Ow!"

Yin yelped and flinched forward as he felt the chilling feeling of a snowball hit the back of his head. "Hey, that hurt!" he whined, turning around to face the person who had hit him. "Please don't—OW!"

Eraser snorted as he watched the second snowball hit home right in Yin's face. "What are you gonna do about it?" he taunted as he balled up a third one.

"I have no quarrel with you!" Yin wailed, barely dodging the third one with a hurried sidestep. "I just wanted to see the view of Yoyle Mountain from here!"

"Well, you can SEE THESE BALLS instead!" Eraser taunted once more, throwing two snowballs at once at him.

Yin dodged the first one, but the second one hit him square in the side of the face. "OUCH! Hey!" He turned to glare at Eraser. "That one had a rock in it!"

"I know," Eraser laughed. "Wasn't it funny?" He bent down to ball up another snowball, still chuckling to himself.

When he looked up to send another snowball flying at Yin, however, he wasn't expecting to see a floating pile of snowballs next to Yin as the latter's gaze was tilted down ever so slightly, enough to block the view of his eyes with his hair. Instead of facing Eraser directly, Yin was standing in a three-quarters position.

"You want funny?" he said with a stone-cold voice as he tilted his face up to shoot an icy glare at Eraser. He suddenly raised his head up, still keeping his gaze trained on Eraser, and said his next words with a chilling, threatening tone.

"I'll show you funny."

He swiftly raised his right arm up and pointed at Eraser. Before the latter knew what was happening, snowballs from the floating pile rushed at his face and body one by one in quick succession.

Yin smiled mischievously upon hearing the sound of Eraser's pained grunts and raised his fist up next to him. Immediately, the snowball storm stopped. He walked over to where Eraser was lying and groaning on the ground and he slipped his hands into his pockets. "Hilarious, wasn't it?" he chuckled in his normal, innocent voice.

"What the paper was that?!" Eraser cried out, shooting up to his feet and taking a step backward. "That...that weird, evil voodoo magic or whatever?!"

The mention of that word made Yin stop for a second, completely taken aback. "Wh-what?" he asked, worried. "Wait, no, I...I'm not evil. I'm...I'm not." He looked down at his hands and muttered, "I'm...I'm not...I'm not!" He looked back up at Eraser and—

WHACK!

"OW!"

Yin fell back to the ground and groaned, his hand darting up to cover the place on his cheek where he had been punched. "Yeah, you are," he said with a snicker. "You know why? Because you're a loser, Yin! And everyone knows that the loser's always the evil one!"

He grabbed the collar of Yin's shirt, yanked him up to his feet, and whacked him in the chest with his knee. Yin coughed and stumbled backward a few steps, bending over and forcing himself to look at the ground. Eraser drew back his fist for another punch and sent it flying toward Yin's face.

"Really?" Yin asked in a low voice. "The loser's evil?"

To Eraser's immense surprise, Yin caught his fist.

Or, more accurately, Yin didn't catch it.

He stared in shock and awe as he felt the unmistakable feeling of his fist in someone's hand. Yet right in front of him, clear as day, Yin was still bent over, both arms clutching his torso. Confused, Eraser tried swinging at him with his other fist but felt that one get caught, too.

"Then let me show you..."

He slowly stood up straight and looked up at Eraser with a cold stare. His arms fell back to his sides and he let out a small scoff. Instantly, Eraser felt his arms get pushed back, and he stumbled backward, still frozen in shock.

Yin raised his head to stare at Eraser more menacingly. He shifted his body ever so slightly into the same three-quarters position he had been in before.

And then, with a swift raise of his arm and a point of his finger, he cried out:

"...just how evil you are!"

Eraser felt a mysterious, invisible hand grab his neck with a grip of steel and wring him back and forth. He barely had time to cough up blood on the ground before a fist faster than a shooting star and harder than platinum sunk itself into his skull. With the hand still gripping his neck, the invisible fist punched his face one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen more times.

"I'll teach you justice...WITH MY SIT!"

The hand flung him up into the air, waited for him to fall down, and uppercut his face so hard that he flew back toward the hotel and crashed through the wall on the third story. Several panicked screams and yells could faintly be heard in the distance near where he had crashed. Yin stared up at the crash site, breathing a quiet sigh of exhaustion and sitting down on the ground to recover.

Not two seconds had passed before he saw the hotel doors opening and Paintbrush looking around wildly before spotting him. "I figured it was you," they smirked as they shook their head and waved. "Yin. Yang. So, what happened?"

"He caught us by surprise earlier," Yin admitted, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck with an apologetic chuckle. "Scratched our chest a little." He glanced at Yang and added, "I'm glad my Sit isn't weak, but...well, you know he can get much more savage than I ever could."

"No, he caught YOU by surprise!" Yang argued, huffing. "I saw it coming miles away, but you wouldn't let me do anything!"

"We can't just go around punching everyone that looks at us funny, Yang!" Yin shot back.

"Why not?!"

"Because it's wrong!"

"Okay, okay, settle down," Paintbrush chuckled as they extended both of their hands out toward them and motioned for both of them to ease up. "I'm not saying he didn't deserve it, but are you sure that wasn't overkill?"

"Yeah, Yang. Are we sure?" Yin asked with a pointed glare.

Yang crossed his arms and scoffed. "Fine, then. Remind me to let you get yourself beaten to a pulp next time. Besides, 'kill' is only halfway to overkill, anyway."

"YOU KILLED HIM?!"

"WOULD YOU RATHER I HAD LEFT HIM ALIVE?!"

"That's enough!" Paintbrush stepped between both of them and pushed them away. "Easy, easy, guys. He does have a point, though, Yin. Four and Two will be able to recover him just fine. But if Yang hadn't killed him, he'd have to live with those injuries. It would only be worse for him."

"Hmm...you're right, Paintbrush," Yang said, suddenly in a contemplative stance with a mischievous grin on his face. "Yin, remind me to let them live next time."

"NO!"

"Let's just go get a drink, you two," Paintbrush sighed, turning around and motioning for them to follow them. Yin got up and agreed, forcing Yang to follow him.

Together, they walked over to a nearby soda machine. Paintbrush pulled out their wallet and asked, "Okay, what do you want?"

"Ooh! I want Dr. Fizz!" Yang pointed to the Dr. Fizz in the soda machine and laughed evilly.

Yin shook his head and pointed to the water instead. "Fresh water is good to keep our body pure!"

"No!" Yang turned to Yin and glared. "Water is for losers, like you!"

"That isn't true!" Yin argued. "We need to keep our body pure! Water!"

"Dr. Fizz!"

"Water!"

"Dr. Fizz!"

"WATER!"

"DR. FIZZ!"

Paintbrush let out a loud groan and flung their head backward to stare up at the sky. "It's gonna be a long day, isn't it?" they thought to themselves.