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“Shizun…”
Luo Binghe was using that breathy tone of his, the one he used when he wanted to wheedle special favors out of his teacher—like being permitted to stay up late to help Shen Qingqiu get his letters of correspondence sorted, or being allowed to pack Shen Qingqiu’s robes and carefully wrap his jewelry in preparation for trips… Well, Binghe seemed to consider such things special favors, anyway.
Shen Qingqiu languidly shut his fan and gave his disciple his full attention. “Yes, Binghe? It’s quite late. You should be in bed by now.”
Luo Binghe gave him an utterly tragic and irresistible doe-eyed stare from beneath his thick, dark lashes. “But…shizun’s condition has been delicate as of late. Does he not need help? It is very late for him, too, and yet he is also not ready for bed.”
Well, that wasn’t wrong. That cheesy Without A Cure poison crap was acting up again, and it was hard to do much of anything without swooning onto the nearest divan (or worse, the nearest tall and strapping man) like the tenderest and most delicate of maidens—and how was there always somehow a divan around?! It was absolutely uncanny. No, wait, “contrived,” that’s the word.
In any event, he really had been working out a plan on how to get to bed without manifesting five new divans in his room in the process when Binghe quietly entered the room. The process would’ve likely involved him rolling around on the floor over to his sleeping quarters, but getting onto the bed would’ve been a struggle; the prospect of installing a ramp in the future seemed wise. And then he’d have to sleep in all fifteen fucking layers of these stuffy robes… Being helped in his hour of need sounded pretty great. Also, while it wouldn’t do if this life of servitude started wearing on Binghe, it was just so hard to say no to that face. Thus, after tapping his fan against his lips thrice and giving a good show of pretending to agonize over the decision, Shen Qingqiu finally sighed and nodded.
“Thank you, Binghe, for the trouble.”
Despite how late it was, Luo Binghe was so energized by the response that he looked like he was ready to leap right up to the heavens. He rushed to Shen Qingqiu’s side and gently, so very gently, helped him to his feet; at the first touch of Luo Binghe’s hand on his own, Shen Qingqiu felt his whole body suffused with warmth. That protagonist halo really was miraculous, huh?
After being led tenderly to bed, Shen Qingqiu sank down heavily to catch his breath while Luo Binghe scurried about the room with light steps and divine purpose. He returned to Shen Qingqiu’s side with an armful of bedclothes and a small wooden tray to collect his hairpins and accessories. With a flushed face, Luo Binghe cleared his throat.
“D-does shizun need…should this one assist shizun in…getting into his night-time robes…or brushing out his hair…?”
Now, having it said aloud like that just made Shen Qingqiu feel like a sack of old bones. Which he was, but still—he could at least do some things on his own.
Shen Qingqiu lifted his arm with all the grace his delicate state could muster, and with a distinctive noise of thwrp, he activated his extendable plastic grabby claw and snatched up the lacquered black comb from his bedside table. Please comb out these acres of hair on my behalf, thank you! Would that he could be back in the modern world, with a manageable hairstyle and other such conveniences.
But…well. He sighed at the gentle motion of the comb, swimming through his locks like a ship through water. There were certainly appealing things to be experienced here, as well.
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“…and what’s important to understand is that there never was a singular traitor among the five; their suspicion, their lack of trust in their fellow leaders, and their blind fear of darkness led to them all being traitors in the end. This is what started the original Keyblade War, and also led to the reality split we will now discuss. Just before the Real World was desolated by the Keyblade War, a select few keyblade wielders were chosen to spearhead the restoration of the universe as a livable plane of existence…”
Thwrp.
Shen Qingqiu turned and used his grabby claw to pull aside the curtain that had covered a large scroll depicting a flowchart of events that he’d prepared before class. The disciples in the room began to furiously scribble down notes, as they were fully aware that they would be graded on this information. Pleased at his attentive little sprouts, Shen Qingqiu hid his smile behind his fan and continued lecturing.
“And yet, even this group of chosen wielders were not without internal strife…for among them there was an imposter, one who had committed a crime most unspeakable and usurped the position of the true chosen one…”
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“Oh, thank you,” said Shen Qingqiu. “Too kind of you.”
Liu Qingge’s throat bobbed. He appeared to be initiating the laborious process of moving one or multiple limbs in order to bring the latest misplaced fan close enough for Shen Qingqiu to take. But there was no need for such grueling labor, of course—not when they had technology.
“Just a moment. Let me just—”
Thwrp.
Shen Qingqiu’s grabby claw leapt forth, and returned fanless. He frowned.
Small target, easy to miss on the first try. Second time’s the charm. Liu Qingge stared at him.
“Yes, just, hold still please—”
Thwrp.
Again, the claw missed and came back bearing no fan.
Third time was also the charm. Liu Qingge tried to step forward, fan in hand, but Shen Qingqiu raised one hand to stop him. It was the hand with the claw in it, so it came across as more threatening than he intended. Better smooth things over.
“Stay right there, no need to trouble yourself. Once more—”
Thwrp.
Once more, the claw whiffed the target, but succeeded in pinching Liu Qingge’s cheek before yanking back with a clattering noise. Oof, that looked like it hurt. Liu Qingge rubbed at his reddening, swelling cheek, and looked like he was about five seconds away from throwing the fan at Shen Qingqiu’s head and storming out the door. A fastball to the face from the Lord of Bai Zhan Peak would probably knock him clean unconscious! It was time to get serious about this.
With grace and poise (or at least his best imitation thereof), Shen Qingqiu motioned with The Claw in a wave of his voluminous sleeve. “Shidi,” he said solemnly. “Please. Allow me, won’t you?”
For several long moments, Liu Qingge seemed to be at war with himself. Finally, he deflated and stiffly stuck out his arm once more, holding still for The Claw.
Thwrp.
Thwrp.
Thwrp.
Thwrp.
Thwrp.
Honestly, and very literally, what the actual fuck?! Why was his aim so off today?! He was normally a crack shot with this thing! Why, he once hooked a sock that had fallen behind the bed in only one try! Maybe the fan wasn’t programmed as a valid item for grappling? In Zelda you could only use the hookshot on wood and also pre-designated hookshot points, and while this sure as fuck wasn’t Zelda it was the only guess Shen Qingqiu could venture at this juncture.
System, a question! Are fans valid grappling points?
【 Question unclear. 】
You heard me perfectly fine! Are fans valid grappling points like with the hookshot and/or clawshot in the Legend of Zelda video game series?!
【 Question unclear. 】
Augh! That’s how it always goes with technology; completely unreliable! Except when it’s in the form of a grabby claw.
Thwrp.
That’s it! The Claw had finally hit home. It was latched firmly onto the wooden body of the fan clutched in Liu Qingge’s fist, and all Shen Qingqiu needed to do was reel it in…but it seemed he’d finally found the issue interfering with The Claw’s efficacy. Aside from Shen Qingqiu’s few minor miscalculations in aiming, Liu Qingge’s grip on the fan was just too firm, preventing any attempts to yank it loose.
Shen Qingqiu frowned and gave a good few tugs. “Shidi, relax a bit, won’t you? I can’t pull it out if you squeeze onto it like that—”
As if the fan was suddenly burning his hand like molten steel, Liu Qingge released his grip and stumbled backward. Unfortunately, that sudden movement sent the fan slingshotting across the room, and The Claw’s grip on it was lost in the process. Shen Qingqiu made a disappointed noise, squinting his eyes and trying to see where it landed.
“Did you see…oh, never mind, there it is. Excuse me for a moment.”
Thwrp.
Thwrp.
Thwrp.
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“Xiao Jiu, I—”
Thwrp.
“I don’t know what a ‘Xiao Jiu’ is and if you attempt to explain it further I will cover my ears and scream,” Shen Qingqiu said.
The Claw pinched Yue Qingyuan’s lips shut before he could raise any more death flags for himself. Yue Qingyuan briefly looked shocked, then his expression gradually shifted into one of tragic resignation. Shen Qingqiu felt a little bad, but, well. It was probably fine.
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“…and you see, there are thirteen primordial darknesses, and they can possess humans as vessels. But a strong-willed vessel can still maintain their free will and also wield the power that such primordial darkness holds, so Xehanort was using the power of time travel and also a bit of body-snatching and cloning in order to have himself as the vessel for all thirteen darknesses, and then when he reaches the seat of keyblade power he can merge into one and become an all-powerful being of darkness capable of singlehandedly summoning the almighty χ-blade and Kingdom Hearts itself…”
“Wooow,” cooed Luo Binghe, allowing his robe to slide down his shoulder alluringly. His ample chest pushed insistently against Shen Qingqiu’s arm, and he twirled a silky lock of hair around his finger as he spoke. “Shizun, you’re so smart…”
Thwrp.
Shen Qingqiu used his grabby claw to set Binghe’s robes right again.
“You’ll catch cold like that, Binghe. Now, as I was saying, Xehanort’s plans very nearly resulted in the defeat of the guardians of light, but through the power of friendship and the intervention of Xehanort’s long-lost childhood friend—who still wishes him well, even after having been betrayed most terribly—they were able to pull through, but not without losses of their own. And that’s when the rhythm game comes in…”
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Shen Qingqiu’s eyes narrowed.
“Why,” he asked, voice dangerously low, “do you get two?”
Shang Qinghua shrugged, dual wielding grabby claws in both hands.
“I don’t understand why you still keep demanding that I explain stuff like this. When writing, some things just don’t have answers, you know? Leaves it up for reader interpretation, gives them something to chew on late at night—”
“Obviously signs of blatant self-insert god mode nonsense!” Shen Qingqiu spat hatefully. He gestured menacingly with his single grabby claw. “I am karma’s instrument, sent to mete judgement upon your kind.”
Thwrp.
So swiftly did that thrwrp come, and so swiftly was Shen Qingqiu disarmed. Shang Qinghua held his claw in his clutches, like some sort of fucked-up claw-hoarding beast.
“Hey,” Shen Qingqiu objected.
“Say it,” Shang Qinghua demanded. “Say it or you’ll never see your claw again.”
This was it—he’d finally gone mad with power. Was fucking his very own thirst OC not enough for him?! But Shen Qingqiu would not bend the knee to tyranny and terror, nor would he compromise on his sense of justice. His knowledge of what was true in the world. He would face the demiurge of this mad world and walk backwards into hell.
“Never,” Shen Qingqiu hissed.
“Four simple words.” Shang Qinghua counted them off on his fingers as he spoke them. “Rei is best girl. Say it and your claw will be in your arms once more.”
Blasphemy! Blasphemy most foul! For it was not Rei who was best girl—it was Asuka! Shen Qingqiu would not abide being in the presence of such shit taste a moment longer. It was time to stand and fight.
The two had a brief and embarrassing round of flailing and slapping at each other with both hands, after which they both needed to lay prone on the floor and take an extended breather to rest. This was because they were both fucking nerds who can’t appreciate a real best girl like Kaworu and neither of them deserve their big tiddy goth boyfriends, nor their grabby claws, for that matter. Then Qi Qingqi probably came in while taking a break from smashing pussy and shoving kids off their bikes and then she took all three of the grabby claws and neither of those fucking losers could do a goddamn thing about it.
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