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Apple and Cinnamon
Apple and Cinnamon
a Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magica fanfiction
by Sakura Rurouni
For Rosenal's KyouMami contest
"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a young girl in possession of magical powers must be in want of a frilly outfit."
"Oh, bullshit, Mami-san. I know that reference and it does NOT say that."
"Well, it does now." I made no effort at all to conceal my grin as I lifted the frilly garment into sight. Tomoyo, eat your heart out.
She visibly blanched, moving backwards on instinct. "W-what is that... that... abomination?!"
"This," I replied, trying to emphasize how very generous I am being, "is your uniform for the evening. Take it. Embrace it. Wear it in expectation of two days in the future."
"You're taking advantage of my desperation!" She objected, coming closer now, wincing as she took in every frilly detail.
I shrugged. "Yes, and? Beggars cannot be choosers, Sakura-san."
"But whyyyyyyy?" She was doing her best to look tragic. Little did she know that
"Kyouko, open up."
Her mouth opened in a yawn. I forked a piece of french toast, covered in a slight sheen of maple syrup, and held it over her mouth as she yawned, letting the syrup drip down onto her tongue.
She paused for a moment, then her eyes opened wide. "That was sugar."
"I brought you breakfast in bed," I said as I sat by her side, smiling. "Good morning."
"You are the greatest," The redhead replied as she took the tray I had in my hands and placed it on her own lap, plate of french toast and all. Now that she was sitting up and wide awake, I stood up and pulled open the curtains.
The sun had already made some progress across the sky. It was already ten in the morning, and way later than I would have normally been around. Kyouko must have noticed, but she was too busy scarfing down french toast to ask me immediately.
"Mami-san," she began, licking the syrup off of her fingertips. "Why are you still here, anyway?"
Red Riding HoodI want to believe people so badly when they say they won’t bite
that I contemplate climbing into their smiling jaws
thinking that it might be better to be split in two than left hanging.
But always, I draw my red hood and flit back into the forest
running in the shadows of pathways, never stepping into clearings
because I’ve spent my whole life in the wilderness
and I still can’t tell the wolves from the woodsmen.
You Were Not An Aquarium BoySea-glass became your bones,
brine your blood, and seashells
melded into your skin.
You were not quite an ocean
when you said "This is your sign to love me."
My body was like a building;
tall, cold, almost unbreakable.
I was metallic and sharp,
towering over your waters.
I remember taking your hand in mine,
conch and coral shells scrubbing
my skyscraper wrists, and laughing
about how one day you would
submerge every last bit of me.
Your lips, riddled with argonauts,
found my cheek and I cringed
at the coarseness.
You asked if they bothered me
and I finally told you "I
think I love you."
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