Show Me Your Smile | Pokémon Fanfiction

24 | you have gone far

"I'll check what's up," Matsuba utters as he rises and walks to the door. We trail his feet with our gazes and hold our breaths.

The door opens.

A lanky figure waves at us from the doorway, hands Matsuba a package wrapped with a thin rope, fanboys about us for a few seconds and dashes off. Great. One more mystery to unwrap.

Zoom in on the package to the floor, cameraman. I'm sure you're proficient enough to know suspense cues.

"Doesn't look like your typical Christmas gift," Hayato observes.

I tap the box. It doesn't budge or make a sound, so what's inside is either an item or a dead Pokémon or a cut human. There was once when the police received their loved ones' entrails as Christmas gifts when hunting down a sinister serial killer. A more relevant tale revolves around extravagant death threats mailed to celebrities' houses, sometimes personally delivered by their favourite stalkers.

"You're all overthinking." Rae inserts herself into the conversation, goes closer to the package and pulls the rope. "If this is what adults are, I don't want to grow up."

"Pathetic," Meta snickers behind our back as the gift unravels.

"That includes you," Rae steels her voice. The last of the box gives way to loosening tension.

A stack of leather tomes address us with bombastic titles and minimalistic designs. A closer look garners a new perspective, eliciting a new response from us. Rae, ever the courageous one, opens the tome at the top of the stack and squeals, her cheeks flushed, her eyes seeking bleach. I volunteer as tribute and flip the cover.

In full colour, an obscene yaoi sears itself into my mind. Let's not go into descriptive territory. Remember when people used to parrot "show, don't tell" be it whether they actually mean they say or say what they mean, merely repeating this phrase because it's a reminder to amateurs about their tendency to dive back into telling rather than showing? This is one of the times showing shouldn't be agreed upon, unless you work in the Ivory Tower, which is a different story altogether. Why do I say that? In the next moment, I receive a text from Okaasan saying that she won't mistreat us and will give us sponsored entertainment.

So much for entertainment.

"What should we do with them?" Kaspar scratches his head with both hands. "This is next level Granbullshit!"

Matsuba steals a glance at his phone. "A steamy special episode that celebrates the best of harems through a festive reenactment of fan favourite sex scenes... Fuck no!"

Another ding sets out to kill us and Hayato checks his inbox. "I know you blocked my number, but bet you didn't expect this, Kōsuke Hayato? Now, be a good boy and make sure you read these manga. All these are made with love by your fans!"

Then, it's Kaspar's turn. "Did you think I wouldn't be able to reach you? We at the Ivory Tower pride ourselves in our erudite business, and we will do whatever it takes to get what we want."

He groans and throws his phone across the room. Rae goes over to coax him as we give him doubtful looks. Turns out someone hacked into his social media account and shared images and videos of him crying after Mellow's wedding. If Kaspar doesn't read the manga, then they will release a special video of him crossdressing and dancing to the latest Toktik trends.

"I deleted those trashy vids, damnit!" Kaspar cried and placed his head on Rae's shoulder. In any other situation I would've tossed him out of the house.

Six knocks on the door push us further to the edge, with the addition of a singsong "SFC Delivery!" wafting through the keyhole.

"Hayato, you're the nearest to the package, go put it in my room!" I point to my room and scramble for the door as he picks up the stack and makes a mad dash for my room.