Three guesses as to the Deemo song playing in my head right now.
Also SPOILER ALERT for those who haven't finished the game or haven't spoiled themselves already. This is an AU which is the result of having Miraculous Ladybug and Deemo both in my head at the same time.
Black on White
There was a second of awed silence after that final, powerful chord before the applause started. As it rose and swelled from its timid start, he turned to face the crowd, a polite smile on his young face, and took a bow. The applause ever grew.
Somewhere in the crowd a doe-eyed little girl dropped her stuffed cat as she stood up from her seat and began clapping her hands furiously, bouncing on the soles of her feet.
"You! I will make you pa—argh!" The figure in black cut off the speaker with a precise kick to his gun hand, knocking off the deadly weapon. In the next moment he was flat on his back on the ground.
Five minutes later saw the criminal being led away in handcuffs by the uniformed authorities. The black figure responsible for the capture watched silently from high up the roof of a nearby apartment.
"We knew you could do it." He could see his mother beaming, her happy eyes reflected in the rearview mirror. "First place! Yet again! Should we start finding competitions abroad for you?"
"Thank you, Mom," he replied with a small smile. "It's all thanks to you and dad supporting me."
"How about me?" A little voice piped from beside the boy. "Did I help?"
"Of course you did," her older brother said with a smile, a real one this time, as he ruffled her coffee brown hair. "Choosing the right piece is important, and you picked it out for me, and that helped me win."
"Really? Yay!" She giggled and wrapped an arm around his waist in a half-embrace, her other arm being occupied with her favorite stuffed cat doll. He gently smoothed her hair back in place.
"Congratulations on your work, officer—"
"Sir, we just showed up in time to pick him up and cuff him."
"It was his work again, eh?"
"Yes, sir. The silent vigilante, Deemo."
"Hmph." The ranked policeman bit into the doughnut he held in his hand. "Stupid name, really."
Her hands were ice and her feet a block of lead, but the unpleasant stranger was far stronger than her. She bit back a whimper as he forcefully dragged her to the dirty chair.
"Just do as I say, brat!" The man in the shabby denim jacket and ski mask ordered, grabbing a handful of her dark brown hair and shaking her. "Just be a good girl and we won't hurt you."
"And as long as your rich parents fork over the cash, that is." He looked down and smirked at her pale, wide-eyed face. The little girl clutched her doll even tighter and whimpered.
"Boss!" The little girl recognized the broad-shouldered oaf as one of the cruel man's goons. He stumbled in through the door, the sweat seeping through his shirt and the fear in his face. "Help! He's here!"
His 'boss' glared at him, but before another word could be spoken the giant fell flat on his face, unconscious, revealing another figure behind him.
This lithe figure was covered in black, even to the tips of its fingers, looking like it had been showered in ink, or in midnight—except for the startling flash of white that was the little bow at its throat. The little girl gasped when she recognized the intruder.
"Hans, are you okay?"
The boy kept on playing, fingers lightly gliding over the ivory keys. He looked up at the little girl sitting on the piano and smiled. The lace in her dress contrasted prettily with the hard black sheen of the instrument, and he again thought, for the hundredth time in the day, how unbearably cute his little sister was.
"You're playing...differently today." A slight crease appeared between her thin eyebrows, and she looked pensive.
"Differently how? I thought you always liked it when I play." He returned his gaze to the black and white keys under his hands. Lifting his left hand and resting it on his lap, he continued to slowly but merrily play the melody with the right.
"I do, but it's like you're tired today," she remarked, looking down at the one hand left playing. "And a little angry."
"I knew you'd come," the tall man said, his voice even although the little girl thought she felt the hand gripping her wrist tremble slightly.
Deemo silently and deliberately took a step towards them, the white eye-spots on its black face fixed on the little girl. Her captor took a step back, pulling her with him.
"Stop right there!" he commanded, drawing his weapon. "If you come any closer her dress is going to get all bloody"—he smirked—"if you know what I mean."
"Am I?" Hans stopped playing altogether and looked up at her again, puzzled innocence on his face. She always thought her brother's face was not only handsome, but too nice and gentle—like it was meant for an angel but God had decided at the last minute to put it on a human instead.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, dropping her guilty gaze from his angelic face to her shiny shoes. "I didn't mean to get kidnapped."
The distance between them could not have been less than five meters, so he was sure that he would be quicker than this Deemo, this faceless, voiceless superhero of the night.
Yet here he was, on the floor, his vision spinning and fading fast while the black figure walked away with its back turned, cradling the girl and her doll. She seemed to be talking to her rescuer in her childish voice, asking questions that would not be answered.
"It's not your fault," he assured her, reaching up to pat the dainty little hand on her lap. "Or maybe it is, because you're just so cute."
"That's not funny," she said, her tone serious but her lips in a childish pout. "I was worried he'd kidnap you too, you know!"
Hans chuckled and returned to playing, this time choosing that happy, lilting melody that she liked so much.
"Your brother isn't cute enough for the kidnappers," he answered after a moment's consideration.
"Maybe not," she said thoughtfully, at which he pretended to pout at her. "But I think he would have kidnapped you after you showed up."
Hans missed two notes. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, you're always so nice but you love me so much I was afraid you'd try to come and rescue me, but since you're too nice you would have gotten captured too," the little girl explained matter-of-factly. Her brother again found himself chuckling at the adorable expression on her face.
"You cute little thing you," he reached up between notes to poke her soft cheek. "I am glad Deemo got to you first, but I wish you would rely on me more."
"But I do rely on you a lot." She lightly hopped down from the piano to the floor and stood at her brother's side, looking up at him with her big, brown eyes. "We made that promise after all, didn't we?"
Hans smiled at the fond memory. "We did."
Deemo set her down on the balcony, gave her a salute, and then turned to go.
"Wait, Deemo." She grabbed one of its coattails, prompting it to turn its head. Her face lifted to look at him.
"Even though you didn't answer a single one of my questions I know you're a good person, and I'm very grateful that you rescued me," she began. "But—can I ask one more favor?"
Deemo turned its whole body towards her and got down on one knee to listen.
"My brother might be out there looking for me, so can you find him and tell him I'm alright?" she asked, looking into the white eyes on the black face. "He'll be so worried otherwise. And that he should come home. And—"
She hesitated. She had been scared, so scared that she had gone numb inside during the whole ordeal, and it was only now that things were beginning to sink in—how he hurt her wrists when he dragged her around, how the look in his eyes told her he was not going to simply let her go, how he pointed that ugly metal thing at Deemo—
"—and, just, just," a sob escaped her, followed by a tear, and then her face crumpled up as the dam broke. "I just want my brother!"
Deemo watched her silently for a moment, but only for a moment. Even it couldn't resist her tears, and it definitely couldn't help wrapping its long arms around her trembling shoulders and drawing her close. As if it aggravated instead of comforted her she began to cry even more, soaking his thin chest with tears and mucus. Deemo patted her hair and stroked her back comfortingly.
He held up a hand, his long fingers curled into a loose fist except for the pinky finger, which he left extended, slightly bent.
"I promise we'll be together forever," he vowed, his smile as gentle and bright as ever. He was always the more optimistic one, the dreamer, the artist—she always tried to be more of the realist.
"And if we can't, we promise we'll never leave without saying goodbye," she firmly stated, looking steadily into his eyes as she hooked her short pinky finger into his.
Her sobbing had subsided into soft hiccups now, and she calmed down even more as she started dedicating her energy into swallowing them down. Deemo would have chuckled at the adorable sight if it even had a mouth to chuckle with.
"S-sorry—hic—about that," she told him sheepishly, wiping tears off her red face with the sleeves of her dress. "I just—"
She stopped when she found a long, inky black finger pressed against her lips, asking her to be quiet. Looking up, Deemo's empty white eyes, the only things visible on an otherwise featureless face, somehow seemed to be smiling. The little girl felt warm. And then she hiccupped.
The creature clothed in black tilted its head and poked her cheek. She poked him back. And then he held up a hand, his long fingers curled into a loose fist except for the pinky finger, which he left extended, slightly bent.
She looked at him, a curious expression on her face. Shyly, she hooked her pinky finger around the one he offered.
Deemo seemed to smile.
I honestly didn't know how to end this huehuehuehue
Also I for the life of me cannot write a nice brother-sister relationship without it being at least subtly incestuous, I'm sorry x_x the only brother-sister relationship I had involved regular fights and banging his head against the wall (literally, but only once I swear) so I really have no idea how to handle caring, affectionate siblings 8D
Yubikiri Genman is my favorite song in the whole Deemo game. I don't even understand anything in it aside from the title, but it gives me feels every time. EVERY. TIME.
A few more things:
This little drabble is fluffy and messy, very messy. I did a jumpy scene-shift, flashback-y thing, I made Deemo into this weird superhero, and I managed to sneak in the pinky promise. It just screams PRACTICE/EXPLORATION PIECE all over it. I really want to use the two concepts separately again later though.
But at the same time I feel like this one doesn't need any more chapters, it stands alone as it is. Shakily, but I think it stands. And I hope it's enjoyable enough as it is. Again, if I was ever to come back to it, I would be making a totally different story. So I publish it, and any and all feedback/critique will be read and considered, so thanks in advance for them!