[Fanfic, 100% OJ] Ultimate Weapon Girls, Part I

Genre: Slice of Life

Length: 3073

B/D: I still don't have any Sham related cover art, but this is a more Sora-series oriented story, even though Suguri and Hime will be around. I really like the Cuties dlc and the UWG song pack, and I wanted to do a story about it, so here we go!

Buttercream icing was the devil. Sham had thought about it, and she couldn’t draw any other conclusion: it had been put on the earth to tempt poor, fallible mortals like her towards sin with its deliciousness. It did a very good job of it. Sham was as fond of cupcakes as the next person – maybe a little moreso, because cupcakes were the cutest known generic cake form – but if you happened to lace one with buttercream she would spare no effort in tracking it down and putting it inside her body.

She had even deigned to eat Hime’s buttercream icing cupcakes, which, admittedly, looked a bit more like a coalition of miniature sludge monsters arranged on a platter. Baking was not Hime’s forte. She hadn’t been allowed to when she was on the spaceship; baking was Saki’s character trait (some would say her only character trait) and she got very protective over it. Moreover, baking was rather less forgiving of the ‘throw stuff in for the hell of it’ method of cooking that Hime had devoted herself to. Sora, who doggedly followed the instructions and weighed everything out three times, had achieved rather more attractive results from the same recipe. This had been a mild source of conflict in their household, until Hime considered that perhaps there were simply two kinds of people: those who produced cupcakes, and those for whom cupcakes were produced. All things considered, there was definitely an attraction to being in column B.

But even the most misshaped, sunken cupcakes could be rendered irresistible with the addition of buttercream, and in very short order Sham had demolished the majority of Hime’s ill-fated platter, much to her host’s delight. This, Sham reflected, was one of life’s little joys she had forsaken when she became a touring idol: hanging around her friend’s homes, eating their food, and being adored for it. It felt good. Better than good, even. Fantastic.

On the other side of the dining table, Hime smiled sweetly. She did enjoy people who were enthusiastic about their food. It always felt so very nostalgic, and reminded her of living with Iru, for whom food was a blessing and table manners were optional. Suguri and Sora appreciated her cooking, of course – in their own quiet little ways – but there really was nothing like having a good guzzler at the table.

“So,” Sham said, when the platter had been demolished and the only thing left to do was lick icing off her fingertips, “you said you wanna talk about something?”

Hime leaned over the table conspiratorially, resting her head on her hands. “Oh, yes. Nothing serious, of course. Just a little enquiry. Now, I trust you know that my dear Suguri is rather a big fan of yours?”

“Well… I knew she was a fan, but I don’t really know how big of a fan. Mostly she seems super down-to-earth, you know? And she gave me some great advice one time. I think I could be a fan of her, hahaha.”

Hime didn’t respond. She didn’t think she needed to. Of course Sham was a fan of Suguri’s. Everybody ought to be, in her very biased opinion. But she took it as a compliment on her own good taste in women, and, after a moment of thought, rewarded it with a genuine smile. “Well, she’s a large enough fan to have acquired some of your merchandise. A shirt, I believe, which you might have seen Sora wearing from time to time.”

She might have seen Sora wearing it from the next town over, to be honest. It was a shade that Suguri might have described as ‘bold’ and Hime might have described as ‘appalling’. Sora described it as ‘pink’, although it bore remembering that she had a rare gift for understatement. It definitely existed, and served as a reminder that mankind was capable of making just about anything into a weapon if left unsupervised.

“Oh yeah! That was hers, huh? I wondered how Sora had managed to get such an old shirt. Does you want me to autograph it for her?”

If she was honest, the only thing Hime wanted anybody to do with that shirt was incinerate it. But that was the kind of thing that was probably better left unsaid, at least until she figured out how to get away with it.

“Well, no,” she said, keeping her face carefully neutral. “Actually, I was wondering if you would perhaps consider doing a private concert for her. Nothing flashy, of course, just a song or two. It would mean so much to her, you know. She’s been listening to your music in some form or another for, oh, thousands of years.”

Hime had anticipated a wave of noise in response to this. Sham as a person was full of sounds, all of them magical, and most of them requiring a doctorate in Shamonomics to decipher. When none of them came within two seconds, she looked up and found that the idol’s face had – apparently with great difficulty – crumpled into a worried frown.

“I… I don’t know. I mean, if anybody deserves a private concert, it’s you guys, right? You’ve done so much for me. You reunited me with Sora, you invited me into your life and your home, you gave me cupcakes… I super appreciate it, you know? You and Suguri are amazing. But… I’m meant to be on hiatus, making an album for everybody to enjoy. It feels like I’d be betraying my fans if I started doing shows behind their back. Is it for, like, a special occasion or anything?”

Hime paused. “Not as such. I just thought it would be a nice, romantic gesture to arrange a treat for her. You don’t need a special occasion for romance, do you?”

“Ahhhhhhh! That’s such a good sentiment, too…I don’t know what to do!” Sham moaned, and looked to the stars for guidance. The stars weren’t out at the time, so instead she got guidance from the support beams of Suguri’s kitchen roof. Apply wood treatment, they said. Check for signs of damp.

“Well, I’m not asking you to give a go-ahead right now, of course. I’m just asking what might make you consider it. I know money is probably no good to you, but I’m sure there’s something else I can do to compensate your time.”

“I… I mean, you guys are already my friends, so that’s more than good enough for me. I don’t even know what I’d ask for.”

“Well, I could put in a word with Sora, for example.”

Sham remained quiet for a few seconds. But when those seconds were over, her expression was more… cunning. A businesswoman. “Oh? Like what?”

“Well, it depends what you wanted, really,” Hime said, with a sparkling smile. “I don’t mean to brag, but I’m quite persuasive. I could probably nudge her into doing quite a lot of things, although-” – and her face became much sterner – “-I certainly wouldn’t allow that power to be abused for anything too… overt.”

Sham considered this. At least, she appeared to consider it. Deep down, she had already made her decision, and was just trying not to appear too eager. “All right. All right! I’ll do it! But on one condition!”

“Oh? How lovely! And what would your condition be?” Hime asked, her smile widening. It was probably, she thought, something quite simple, like setting up a day out or getting Sorta to wear some outlandish outfit. A very painless price to pay, for the sheer amount of brownie points it would earn her with Suguri.

Sham crossed her arms, and looked Hime in the eye like a general about to give a rousing declaration. “I want Sora to perform with me.”

Hime blinked. “…perform with you? As a comedy duo, perhaps?”

“No!” Sham slammed her fists on the table, which mostly did nothing. Suguri’s table, like her door, was old and venerable and could support the weight of three normal humans (or one Nath). It barely shuddered from the unprovoked assault. “As an idol! I’ll teach her the song and the dance routine and everything, and we’ll perform for Suguri together! It’ll be the best! The best!”

Hime picked her next words very carefully. “Aha… well… you know, Sham, I’m not sure that’s entirely realistic. Sora can do anything she puts her mind to, of course, and we both know that, but I think her talents are distributed in… well, the exact opposite direction, you know? She’s an expert at being quiet and not moving much. The world’s foremost expert, I would go so far as to say. But I’m not sure she’d take quite so well to singing and dancing.”

“I can teach her. I’ve been an idol for thousands of years, and I can totally make her into a superstar! It’d be so amazing, to be able to share the thing I’m most passionate about with the person I care about the most!” She leaned across the table and seized Hime’s hands. “Hime, we’ve got to make this happen!”

Sham’ expression was earnest, and guileless. Painfully so. There was no ulterior motive, no knowledge that was being withheld. Just the genuine excitement of a girl discovering a dream that had been buried, and finding that it was within reach. Hime realised in that moment that the situation was no longer in her control. She couldn’t say ‘no’ to that face, even if she really, really wanted to.

“Well… ah. It might be a bit of a tall order,” she said, sealing her own fate. “But I’ll see what I can do.”

The first step towards a singing, dancing Sora was to catch her in a good mood, which was easier said than done. It wasn’t, of course, that Sora didn’t have good moods. Hime was fairly sure she had the same emotional range as everybody else, including such top-ten hits as happy, sad, and that weird kind of angry you got when you were hungry, She just didn’t broadcast them. There was only one cast-iron law when it came to her emotions, and it was that Sora never got up on the wrong side of bed (or the beanbag, in her case). If she felt grumpy when she woke up, she went back to sleep – and would repeat the cycle until her excess grump had dissipated, or until somebody unwisely decided to prod a sleeping bear.

Still, there were ways to cheat the system. The best time to catch her, Hime had decided, was right after she fed the ducks. She loved her ducks unconditionally, and they loved her back. Together they formed a beautiful cocoon of affection and feathers that was difficult to observe without feeling warm and tingly in the chest. Was it worth the spilled bird seed, the feathers that got everywhere, and the cacophony of quacking when the troupe of birds followed her back into the house? The jury (consisting of Hime, Hime, and also Hime) was out. But it was definitely convenient for this exact situation, and she wasn’t above taking advantage of it.

She waited until Sora wandered into the kitchen, still wearing a blissful post-duck smile, to launch an assault the only way she knew how: with ice cream. Boldly, she cracked the seal on a brand-new tub of rocky road, wafting the smell of chocolate and nuts through the kitchen. Sora, who had been about to fashion herself a sandwich, stopped in her tracks.

“Sora, why don’t you sit down and have some ice cream with me? I have something I want to ask you about,” Hime called.

“Mm.” Sora took the bar stool and sat, although she almost immediately began to fidget. It was a habit she’d fallen into recently – probably learned from Sham, who usually stood up and walked around when she ate. Her gaze shifted to the ice cream. “You’ve finally come to the light side.”

“Oh, I’m not giving up on strawberry being the best flavour. But,” Hime said grandly, “I think there’s some room for reconciliation. Here, I’ll give you a big serving. Don’t tell Suguri.”

Sora thought about this for a second. It sounded almost as if she were being offered a deal with the devil: an exchange of silence for ice cream. It seemed like a good proposition, though. Sora had silence in abundance. She produced it in massive quantities. Besides, Hime did not seem like a very threatening devil, if she was honest. Buttercream icing was more devilish than her. She nodded, and took up her spoon.

“So,” Hime said, after a cursory period of mutual ice-cream appreciation had passed. “I have a request for you from Sham.”

Sora’s eyes narrowed; her spoon paused midway to her mouth. “…Suspicious.”

“W-wait, you’re suspicious already?”

“Mm. If Sham wanted me to do something, she’d ask me herself – even if it was embarrassing. She’s good at asking embarrassing questions.” She paused. “And you bribed me with ice-cream, so it’s definitely not something I want to do.”

These were both very good points, but they were inconvenient and Hime didn’t like them. Even softened up by her ducks and plied with ice-cream, Sora was a formidable foe. “W-well. I agreed to ask you, you see, because… well, it was kind of an exchange of goods and services…”

“So she wanted you to talk me into something,” she said, flatly. “Extra, extra suspicious. Wait here. I’m going to go call her.”

Hime, very quietly, began to panic. The situation was beginning to escape her control. “Sora, wait. If she asks you herself, there’s no reason for her to do the favour I asked for. Just hear me out, okay?”

“So you’re just being a middle man. I’m disappointed,” Sora said sternly. “I didn’t raise my sister to act like this.”

Hime fought the urge to scream. It wasn’t supposed to be this difficult, she thought, for her to ask a favour from a member of family on behalf of that member of family’s best friend. The economy of interpersonal gratitude was breaking. Bereft of any solution, Hime took a very big spoon of ice cream and pouted.

“…Hime. It’s okay. I was teasing you. It was very funny,” Sora said, with the same seriousness as everything else she said. Sora told jokes with the same gravity other people reserved for military invasions.

“Oh, yes! Obviously! Because it’s so obvious when you’re joking, as opposed to when you’re rambling on about nonsense. Silly me.”

“Mm… I’m bad at jokes. But the only way to get better is to joke more. It’s a conundrum.”

This is what she thinks about all day, Hime realised. Ducks, ice cream, and how to be better at jokes. The strongest weapon in the world, and that’s what goes through her head.

“What did Sham want? If it’s not weird, I’ll do it,” Sora declared. She did not declare what she would consider ‘weird’, which would have been very valuable information to know, but that was fine. An opportunity had been presented, and Hime was all about seizing opportunities.

Very quickly, she outlined the conversation she’d had with Sham, and watched with dismay as Sora’s expression gradually changed from ‘blank but reasonable’ to ‘the slight frown of infinite stubbornness’.

“…Sorry. I can’t,” Sora said, shaking her head. “I think… I could dance. Maybe. But singing is too much. Even dancing… might be too much. I’d ruin things.”

“Why? I’ve not really seen you try either before. You might turn out to be a natural. You never know.”

“But not… the way Sham is. When she does her idol routines, she’s so… energetic. And cheerful. You feel like you’re flying, just watching her. I don’t know if I can be that way.”

Hime smiled wryly. True, Sora wasn’t exactly what she would call energetic. And feeling like you were flying wasn’t exactly remarkable for their social group, either. She had a point. But the way she spoke about the idol routines gave her a little bit of hope. “Sham thinks you can. Definitely.”

“Sham thinks I can do anything.”

“You think Nath can do anything.”

“...Muuu.”

Hime began to toy with a loose curl of hair. “Why don’t you just give it a try, Sora? Even if you don’t like it, and you have to quit later, it’ll still be something for you and Sham to do together.”

“But if I quit, Suguri won’t get an idol show. So there’ll be no point.”

Hime sighed, and stretched. “Sora… I wish I could show you, you know. When Sham came up with the idea, her face was just… so excited. More excited than I was, definitely, and more excited than I think Suguri would be. For us, an idol show isn’t something we really need… it would be a nice date, and that’s all. But for Sham, it’s a part of her life that she can’t share with you any other way. It’s… very important to her, I think.” She paused a moment. Gave the words time to sink in, to find purchase in Sora’s strange and mysterious mind. “So, even if you don’t end up putting on a show, I think you should try.”

Sora didn’t say anything. The silence stretched on, and on, and on; the ice cream in her bowl began to melt. The gears in her head were turning; whatever her decision might be, the process of making it had begun. In other words, Hime thought, her job was over. She’d done all she could.

“Well, then,” she said, standing up. “I’ll let you get on with things. Whatever you decide, make sure to talk with Sham about it.”

Sora nodded, but didn’t reply. Hime, having discharged her Sora-related duties for the day, began to think about the other things she needed to do. She needed to wake Suguri, and harass her until she took a shower; breakfast had to be alchemised from the base elements of bread, bacon and eggs; the great backlog of ’videos with cats in them’ that existed on the internet had to be whittled down. They were all very enjoyable tasks, and she hastened to attend to them.

When she returned, with a freshly-hugged and washed Suguri in tow, she was no closer to knowing Sora’s decision than before. But she did notice that a full tub of rocky road ice cream had quietly evaporated, never to return.

A/N: This will be a series, which I'll carry on (hopefully soon).