Okay, people, as we all know, when you're drunk, you tend to say things you wouldn't normally say. These things tend to be truths that you keep inside, so this cheesy, fluffy story is based on that. I am warning you, it has no point and is so fluffy, you may throw up pink hearts may be kind of OOC, too, but really, give me a break.

Discalimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, their images belong to Koei.

LET THE STORY COMMENCE!


It was a warm summer night, with crickets chirping happily from the tall grass, fireflies dancing jovially in the moonlight, and people passing out stone cold on the ground. Sounds of laughter and merriment filled the air as the people of Shu celebrated their Lord's safe return from battle. As was expected, he and his generals indulged in the many things the festivities had to offer, most of all the wine.

Liu Bei was waving a glass around in the air wildly and telling a highly energized tale to the crowd of people surrounding him, who occasionally gasped or burst out laughing, causing their lord to adopt a quirky little smile. Zhao Yun watched his lord wearily, as if imagining some assassin sneaking up behind him (which he probably was—he was quite intoxicated.) Lady Yue Ying was looking a tad bit tipsy as her husband steadied her with one hand and engaging his fellow strategist Pang Tong in an intense conversation about the value of a good sturdy footstool. Nearby Wei Yan was throwing up wildly in the bushes, while Huang Zhong looked half amused and half concerned, but still managed to down another full 10 ounces of wine and preen to the cheering crowd.

Ma Chao was nowhere to be found, and Jiang Wei stumbled around blindly asking for him. Xing Cai sat at a table with her father and Guan Yu, who was looking mildly amused as he sipped his beverage. He bode them farewell and set off to hear the tail end of Liu Bei's story. Xing Cai herself was quietly sipping her drink like Guan Yu had been. She had learned from experience that she preferred Guan Yu's method of drinking to her father's. The man in question had his head on the table, looking up sideways at his daughter.

"Xing Cai," he slurred, tears coming to his eyes. "I'm so happy I 'ave such'a pretty daughter." The girl rolled her eyes. She hated it when he got drunk and started gushing about her.

"I know," she said, shifting uncomfortably, never one to take a compliment well.

"No, no! I mean-" he hiccupped, "you look so much like your mother, she was real pretty too-"

"I know, dad, you tell me every time you drink this much."

"I do? No, but I mean it an' I just can't figure out how you're so pretty," he screwed up his eyes in concentration. "Can I tell you a secret?" He asked, keeping the same volume, but making his voice hoarse as if he were whispering. "I've never been much of a looker."

"Wow." Xing Cai looked around for an escape.

"I'm so proud'a you," he patted her arm and smiled weakly. "You're a good kid…" he trailed off, looking at a group of soldiers conversing but obviously too drunk to actually see them. After some silence he looked up in alarm. "Xing Cai!" he reached out and grabbed her arm, holding it in a death grip.

The young woman jumped. "What?" She asked, not bothering to be polite as he wouldn't remember it anyway. She tried to pry his hand from her arm, but to no avail. His grip was iron clad.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Wha-" She stared. She always got mad when he drank so much, but she had learned to get over it. He looked vulnerable, sad, even though he was so fierce when sober, dangerous and more than capable of killing. "No. No, dad." She tried to imagine why he would think she was angry.

"'Cuz I get scared sometimes." He said immediately, looking to her for confirmation. "Scared that you don't like me." Xing Cai was speechless. He must have been really smashed.

"Of course I like you, you're my father." She said, hoping this would be enough.

"So if I wasn't your father you wouldn't like me?" He said, looking sad again.

"No! No, you're…you're a good man." She said carefully, not wanting to upset him.

"'Cuz you're all I got left." He said, putting his head down on the table and loosening his grip on her arm. She opened her mouth to protest this, but decided it was no use arguing with a man this drunk.

"I know, dad." She smoothed the hair on top of his head. She could tell he was drifting into unconsciousness, but he still wouldn't completely let go of her arm. He mumbled something she didn't understand. Without realizing she was doing it or why, she spat out, "I love you, dad."

She surprised herself, thinking she sounded cheesy and childish, but her father just murmured into the table and let her arm go, finally fully unconscious. The woman started to get up and go to sleep in her quarters, but instead sat back down and lowered her head to the table, closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep. That way, when her father woke up dazed, confused and with a massive hangover, at least she would be there too.


I warned you. Review, please. Feedback makes me smile. You want that, don't you?