Desperate Word War
The air in the narrow alleyway seemed to freeze.
Anya's constant stream of chatter severed mid-sentence, replaced by a silence so heavy you could hear the distant drip of a leaking gutter. Beside me, the Amazoness—the same girl who had been a whirlwind of bronze skin and violence in the Dungeon—was now a trembling weight against my shoulder.
Her grip was iron. If I tried to pull away, I'd probably lose the sleeve of my tunic.
"What are—"
A hand clamped over my mouth before the sound finished forming.
"Shh—don't," a voice hissed, breath hot against my ear. Shaking. Desperate. "Please, just play along."
Play along with WHAT—
My supply bag dropped to the floor with a thump.
Someone stepped into the alley behind her.
Tall. Amazon. Like a hunting cat scanning the scene, her eyes flicked from the girl's buried face to mine, then to Anya, who was standing there with a bag of mushrooms in one hand and her jaw nearly hitting the cobblestones. Her hand rested on her sword hilt.
I froze.
No way!
That's Aisha!
Another one—Lena followed, silent, already angling to cut off escape.
What are they doing here? Did this girl do something to piss them off?
The girl tightened her hold.
"Hey, Aisha! You know what? His familia is well known."
I felt my ears burn.
What is she doing?
Aisha's gaze sharpened, reading us like a tactical problem.
"Is that so?"
She advanced again. One deliberate step.
The girl swallowed.
Then—
She fired.
"His god won't tolerate things like this." The words tumbled fast, uneven. "If you lay your hands on me, you should face the consequences."
The alley changed temperature.
Aisha stopped.
Not because she believed it.
Because she couldn't afford not to consider claims like this.
Aisha's grip on her sword hilt loosened by a fraction.
"Hey nya!" Anya's voice cracked the tension, sounding genuinely wounded. "We were buddies! How come you never told me about this?"
Something twisted in my chest at that look, but—
"I'm not her husband!" I managed to muffle out. "She's lying!"
"What?" The girl's voice cracked. "We just had a little fight and now you're throwing me away?! After everything?!"
Anya sucked in a sharp breath.
"…Wait."
She leaned in, tail bristling, staring between us.
"You two are married. But you called him 'husband', didn't you?!"
Smart cat.
"See—!"
She cut me off.
"Newlyweds!" She blurted, her face turning a deep, scorched red. "Still... adjusting!"
"That makes sense Nya! But it still hurts that you didn't tell me!"
"I said we aren't—"
She shoved her hand over my mouth again. "Did you forget?" She forced a high, frantic laugh. "You yelled 'w-w-where should I look?!' and turned red as a tomato!"
Memories flooded back.
The Dungeon. The fight.
She is twisting it!
My face ignited. I pulled her hand away. "You blushed harder than me, though!"
I covered my mouth, realizing I'd been caught in her trap.
She pulled her hands back fast. Let go of me.
They went to her face instead. I caught the color between her fingers—deep pink, spreading. Heat close enough to feel.
"Did I?"
The words came out in a small squeak. Soft. Unplanned.
What the—! Is she for real?
A beat.
"What, Nya? You both... Then it's actually true?"
"No!" I shot back.
That made the girl flinch and take a step back.
Her face caught a glimpse of light.
Soft. Not too bright.
Just enough so I could actually see her more clearly.
I caught her eyes filled with unshed tears. What I found tore at something inside my chest.
Desperation mixed with anxiety.
For a second, I wasn't in the alley anymore.
Same expression.
I'd seen it before.
In mirrors...
I could see the faint tremor in her shoulders. She wasn't just acting; she was exhausted.
My legs moved before I realized it.
Damn it.
I stepped in front of her.
"Miss. She is someone I know." I paused to make sure my tone didn't sound threatening. "I don't know why you came here, but you should leave."
Aisha chuckled, a dark, predatory sound. "Oh my. Playing hero? Think again."
Her hands moved. Sword lifted halfway.
My hand slapped my empty hip. Right. No knives. I'm going to die for a girl I don't even know.
"You've got guts, kid," Aisha said, her smirk widening. "But guts won't stop a Barbera blade. Stand aside, or I'll find out exactly how much your god 'tolerates' seeing you in pieces."
"Oh, you do? Then try."
Anya stepped forward, something fierce sliding into place behind her eyes.
She dropped the supply bags. Thump. Thump. Raised one hand. "Don't worry. Your buddy is strong. So, she will handle this. Wait and see."
Who?
I jerked back, failed to remember who the buddy is.
"It's me Nya!" Anya's cheeks flushed, almost pouting like a child.
Wait, what?
"You doubted me nya?!" Her ears flattened, hurt flashing across her face for just a second.
"No, I just—"
"Whatever!" Her expression snapped from wounded to fierce in a heartbeat. "Hey, tall woman!"
Aisha's eyes locked onto Anya's. Two predators, finally measuring each other.
The air shifted.
"Buddy or wife, she's with us now. Try to take her and I'll break those pretty arms, Nya!"
Anya isn't bluffing. She cracked her knuckles.
Aisha stared at us hard. Running calculations I could almost see.
"I'm not suicidal enough to pick a fight with one of Mia's stray cats over a single runaway. Consider yourself lucky, kid. You've got a scary guardian angel."
It slipped from her mouth as she turned away.
Lena followed behind her without a word.
Their footsteps faded into the maze of alleys.
Silence rushed back in.
I almost slumped against the wall as the adrenaline drained out. "Woo... you're one tough cat, Anya."
"More praise please!"
"You wish."
"Aww, come on!"
I smiled, but then I looked at the girl. She was still shaking, her hands clenched into fists.
"You owe me an explanation RIGHT NOW."
Her lips parted, then closed.
"First—what's your name?"
Anya's tail went stiff as a board. She looked at me, then the girl, then back at me.
"Wait! You don't even know her name?!"
***