|A Story from a Parallel Universe
Author: fukuji mihoko PM
Somehow, the Umineko characters all ten million of them get shoehorned into a high school AU. They have to try and function as perfectly normal human beings- but that's a little difficult for a 1,000 year old sadistic witch. :BeatoBattler, crackfic XD:Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor - Battler U. & Beatrice - Chapters: 9 - Words: 23,680 - Reviews: 31 - Favs: 23 - Follows: 13 - Updated: 03-23-12 - Published: 09-18-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7391595
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A Story From A Parallel Universe
'Setting The Stage'
"Big brother, you really need to be more reliable!" sixteen year old Ushiromiya Ange chastised her useless brother. "We're going to be late for school!"
"I'm sorry, Ange!" Battler said, hurrying to keep pace with his sister. Battler's hair was wet; a testament to the bucket of icy cold water Ange had unceremoniously thrown over his head when all other attempts to rouse him from his corpse-like slumber had failed. "I-it's really not my fault, though! I tried to get to sleep last night but-"
"I bet you didn't!" Ange snapped, rounding on her brother with narrowed. "I bet you were looking at those filthy books again last night!"
"F-filthy books? I-I don't know what you mean, ihihi…"
"Don't play dumb, big brother! I've seen them!"
Battler's face turned as red as his hair. "W-well… A-aha, did I tell you I was suddenly interested in photography, and I find the forms of lighting used in those particular pictures to be-"
"Then why did you hide them under the bed?"
"B-because… photography… i-is my secret passion and I- hey, wait…" Battler's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why were you looking through my personal things?"
It was Ange's turn to be embarrassed this time. "No reason!"
"I mean, it's not like I love you and steal various items of your clothing you've warn to sleep with whilst talking to them like they're really you and you love me too, of course not, ha, ha, ha, the idea of it! U-urgh, you're such a pervert, big brother, I hate you! Next time I'm not waking you up, and you can sleep in late and get in trouble, okay! I don't know why you are like this sometimes! Idiot!"
And with that, Ange stormed off purposefully, leaving Battler very sodden, very tired and very confused.
Battler knew what was waiting for him before he even opened the door of his homeroom. It was how she- n-no, how that evil witch- greeted him every single school day, and he didn't see why it would change now he had moved up a year. There was always the possibility she had been moved into a different class this time, but Battler knew that was only wishful thinking.
She would always be there; sitting at her desk, giggling, being the most annoying and yet simultaneously confusingly attractive person Battler had ever met, with her blonde hair and bad personality and those huge cow tits.
You couldn't forget the tits.
Sighing, well prepared to meet his cruel end at the hands of a taunting madwoman, Battler pushed open the door of his homeroom-
-and was met with a horrible, crushing impact to his skull, as a bucket filled with water fell onto his head.
Geez, that was just getting old.
"BEAATORRICHHHEEEEE!" Battler shouted, pulling the bucket from his head and throwing it on the floor. "I'll get you for this, you biiitchhhhh!"
"Kyahahahahahaha! Nice to see you too, Ushiromiya BAHHTTLERRRR!" Beatrice greeted oh-so-cordially. "Now Lambdadelta is also in our class this year we can have LOTS and LOTS of fun together right?"
"I was the one who rigged the bucket. Traps are my speciality," said Lambdadelta, smiling cheekily. "And I have to say, it went swimmingly! Kikikiki!"
Beatrice high fived the strange, pink, manic pixie-girl, both of them giving Battler excellent nightmare fuel expressions that ensured he wouldn't be sleeping for a week.
"Hey, Battlerrrr, you're looking a little blueee~" said Lambdadelta. "Did somebody rain on your parade? Kyahahaha!"
"I wouldn't want you to catch a cold, Battler!~ Why don't you just take those wet clothes off right now, hmmm?~~ Kyahahahahahaha!"
"Tch." Battler rolled his eyes- trying to play it cooool, even though he was beginning to shiver (did that make him very 'cool', then?). "Since it's your fault I'm like this, Beato, why don't you get over here and keep my body temperature warm by rubbing your body all over mine, huh?"
"So~rrryyyyyy, I don't really go for useless, INCOMPETANT men with STUPID hair! Gyahahahahaha!"
"You bitch!" Left eye twitching, Battler stabbed a finger at Beatrice in unbridled rage. "I'll get you yet, you see if I don't! This is war!"
"Well, hey there~ If it isn't my favourite little lady, hihihi~"
"Drop dead Amakusa."
"Ahh, don't be like that!~ What about your manners, hmm?"
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry." Ange rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. "Drop dead Amakusa, please."
"Ahh, you're so cold, hihi!~ What's got you alllll riled up?" asked Amakusa, giving Ange a disarming smirk (his pearly white teeth sparkled) as he leant over her desk. "Care to share?"
"Ohhh…" Amakusa smiled knowingly. Leaning forwards, he whispered quietly- almost inaudibly- into Ange's ear, breath ghosting against her skin. "Is it… about your big brother spending all his time with that sexy blonde girl and not you, hmmm?"
Ange's left eye twitched. Her fingers balled up into fists.
"You know, little lady, if you just grew a bigger pair of tits I'm sure-"
"FUCK OFFFFFFF FUCK OFF FUCK OFF FUCK OFF!"
And with an explosive scream loud enough to be heard on Saturn, Ange shot up out of her chair, climbed over her desk and smashed her forehead against Amakusa's. Once the silver-haired pretty boy was doubled over in pain (though he wasn't in so much pain he couldn't say, 'oh, did I hit a nerveeee, little lady?') Ange gave him a swift, merciless kick between the legs, thus rendering Amakusa a limp pile of human jelly.
Then she threw him into the nearby storage cupboard for good measure.
And locked the door.
"Well." Ange planted her hands on her hips, glaring at her assorted class mates. They were all staring at her, wide eyed. "What are you doing? You didn't see anything, okay?"
They all nodded meekly. Chiester 45 (honestly, the names of some of the people at her school, Ange didn't even) looked like she was going to cry.
"And my boobs aren't small," Ange added, muttering darkly to herself. "They're an D cup…"
But that was enough to compete with Beatrice?
Maybe she should drink two bottles of milk after her nightly shower instead of one.
That would show that stupid witch.
"Good morning, class."
"Hello, teacher," thirty- no, twenty nine, rather- listless voices echoed.
"I hope you all enjoyed your summer," said Miss Virgilia, smiling pleasantly. "I myself had a rather fun time at the beach~"
At the word 'beach', all the boys in the class (minus one) raised their heads to look at their super hot teacher with greater interest. What sort of swimming costume would a beautiful, mature, sexy adult like her wear? A bikini? Was a bikini not refined enough? Ahhhh- nobody knew, but they all loved the mental images!~
Virgilia, meanwhile, was blissfully aware half the people in her class were imagining her in a bikini. But at least she'd managed to make her class pay attention.
"Ahh, but the beach isn't relevant," said Virgilia, smiling in that sweet, sleepy way of hers. "Let me take the register~ Ahh, let's see. Amakusa Juuza?"
There was no response.
Still no response. Chiester 45 shifted round nervously in her seat to look at Ange, but the coldly serious expression in the girl's eyes made her flinch.
"Oh dear, I hope Amakusa isn't sick," said Virgilia emphatically. "And on the very first day of term, too!"
But Virgilia was wrong.
Amakusa was not ill.
He had been stuffed inside the storage cabinet- and he had suffocated to death. At least he had died how he had lived, though; wedged between three beautiful girls- other victims of Ange's insane anger management issues (though those girls had bullied her quite badly at some point, so they might have deserved being locked in a cupboard and squished into human pretzels).
That would be a rather nasty surprise for Virgilia when she finally got around to cleaning out her classroom.
"I can't believe our first lesson of the term is math," Battler groaned, running a hand through his disordered hair. "How can I concentrate on numbers now? I'm still all wet!"
"Awww, how touching~ Were you thinking about meee?"
"O-of course not! I would never think about your cow tits- certainly not at night, for five hours, meaning I didn't get any sleep at all last night and Ange had to throw a bucket of water over me to wake me up, HA HA HA!" said Battler, his voice peaking at some bizarre kind of hysteria.
Beatrice only sniggered. Unlike Battler, she was a studious girl, and she already had her cute Hello Kitty™ notebook and matching pen out, ready to do some serious number grinding.
"Let's have a contest, Ushiromiya Batttlerrrrrr! Whoever answers the most questions correct in this class gets to use the other person as a slave for the rest of the day! How does that sound?"
"N-no way! I'm no good at math- you'll wipe the floor with me!"
"AHAHAHAHA! Scared, are you? Whatever happened your masculine pride, hmmm? GYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-"
Battler winced, sticking his fingers in his ears to drown out Beatrice's insane laughter.
Battler substituted the fingers for erasers. Maybe that would work?
"Alright! Fucking fine!" Battler finally roared, stabbing a finger at Beatrice. "I'll do your stupid contest, alright? Just stop CACKLING at me like that!"
This was going to be a long day.
"Literature is a beautiful subject!" Hachijo Ikuko, the (gasp!) literature teacher enthused, clapping her hands together at her chest. Her eyes looked strangely sparkly. "The things people can do with words is just outstanding!~ The fear, the pain, the love, the mystery- aaaaah, it makes my heart go all doki doki!~ Doesn't it do that with you?"
Dlanor A. Knox (a strange, quiet girl with lavender curls) raised her hand in the air.
"My doctor says my heart cannot go doki doki, teacher, or I will DIE. That is why I need to be stoic and emotionless at all TIMES."
Cornelia, a clumsy young girl with cute yellow ribbons in her hair, swooned. A few drops of blood fell from her nose and onto her new text book. D-d-dlanor-san was so cool!
Unfortunately, Cornelia was the epitome of uncool. She did not have a dark, troubled back story wherein she had killed her father with a fruit knife because he'd written a mystery novel that didn't adhere to Knox's Decalogue. Neither did she have glasses, a kawaii face or the ability to conjure swords out of thin air. All she had was being clumsy, and that was soooo last anime season.
Nowadays, it was all about superheroes and secret organizations and friggin' huge mecha. Moe girls weren't as fashionable anymore.
That was why, when Cornelia fainted from blood loss and hit her head on the floor, nobody cared.
It would've been a different matter if she was a robot, but she wasn't, so there.
"Well then," Hachijo said, as though Cornelia did not exist, "I sympathize with you, Miss Knox, but can you at least pretend your heart is going doki doki?"
"…I can TRY."
"Good~ Now, to pontificate even more upon the wonders of literature- yes, Chiester 410?"
The rabbit eared, red-eyed schoolgirl who wore her skirt cup in the middle for no reason save blatant fan service (because this story didn't have enough of that already) smirked, revealing a small cute fang worn by all 'edgy' characters, and further cementing the fact she would add nothing to the 'plot' of this saga other than 'nihihi's and the occasional panty shot.
"Miss Hachijo, is it true that you published a novel once, ihihi?"
Hachijo's smile did not waver, although it did become significantly more disturbing, in a subtle 'I'm going to kill you to see how you react, heeheee' kind of way.
"Yes, that is true. What of it, Miss 410?"
"Well, nyeheh, if you've published a book then why are you still a teacher?"
"Because I spent my whole life studying literature, a subject I adored, which then- in my adult years- proved to be completely useless because you just don't get paid for reading books. I become an alcoholic suffering from severe depression with a huge pile of debts that kept mounting up and my mother said she had always hated me. My favourite genre was always the mystery genre, so I tried to inject some joy into my cheerless life by writing an eight part epic I had planned ever since I was twelve entitled When The Mongooses Cry, but it was a complete failure and I plunged even deeper into the recesses of misery, vice and despair- until I finally decided, why not become a teacher? That way I can fill the empty heads of stupid children with baseless dreams, only to watch in amusement with a bucket of popcorn as they realize they've fucked up their lives and it never stops hurting."
Hachijo giggled sweetly.
The whole class looked at Hachijo in alarm.
"Oh, and I also have a split personality called Featherine Augustus Aurora. She likes to murder small animals."
The silence was only broken by the sound of a pen against paper, as Dlanor studiously wrote everything down for future reference.
"So, Batttlerrrrrr~" said Beatrice, smirking from ear to ear. "How did you do in that math test, hmm?"
"Urgh..." Battler winced.
Ah well. If the situation was dire (which it was) he could always take a leaf from his 'dear old father's' book and try to bullshit his way out of it, right?
Well, that plan had backfired stupendously for Rudolf. The moment Kyrie discovered Battler wasn't really Asumu's son but her own (it was a complicated story) she had disposed of her calm, collected persona and had cut open Rudolf's stomach to stuff it with candy.
Rudolf got better, though.
He still had that minor problem where he vomited up golden syrup on random occasions, but most people thought that was cool.
"U-um, the test was fine!" Battler said smoothly. "It was fine! A piece of cake!"
Beatrice raised a brow. "Then tell me what you gottttt!"
"You tell me your first!"
Beatrice giggled, making a peace sign with her fingers. "A perfect one hundred."
Battler jumped out of his seat as though he'd been hit with a cattle prod. "LIAR!"
"Oh, I'm a liaarrrr, am I? The teacher graded it in red! It's written down on my paper IN RED! IN RED, Battlerrrrrrrrrr! Do you dare dispute the red truth? Do you DARE? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!~"
Battler made a mental note to buy some earplugs ASAP.
"Now you're my SLAVE, Ushiromiya Battler- my slaaaaaave! I can do whatever deprived, horrible thing I want with you and you can't protest because you're only FURNITURE! KyahahahahaAaAaAaA!~ First I think I'll strip you naked and put you on a chain. THEN I'LL FEED YOU TO THE GOATS! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Some earplugs, and a psychiatrist.
Will romance blossom between Beatrice and Battler?
Will 'When the Mongooses Cry' ever become a real series?
Will Battler really need a psychiatrist?
Is Ange really only a D Cup?
What on earth is going on anyway?
Find out next chapter of A Story From A Parallel Universe!
a/n: Aha XD;; I wanted to do something 'special' for the 100th chapter of dysfunctional, but it got so incredibly long and friggin /weird/ I decide to put it as its own story instead XD; The writing style is also really dissimilar to what I usually do, so I figured it would just stand out in my other oneshot collection.
It actually wasn't planned to be so bizarre, honest XD It was just a light-hearted look at the Umineko cast thrown into a high school setting, but then… well… I just don't think a lot of the characters are really suited to be anywhere near impressionable young children at all XD Maybe it's best Beatrice, Featherine and the like just stay being meta, far, far away from real people XD
Oh yeah, & this story owes a lot to Rokkenjima Hotel by Densetsu-no-Maguro. It's absolutely hilarious, and I was trying to recreate some of that weird off-the-wall humor here XD; You should go read that, if you haven't already. /shameless plugging XP
This fic is all finished, so expect the next part up like tomorrow or something. It'll probably be like... 6 parts long. You just can't wait, I know XD