By A. C. Williams
Magic samurai armor made everything cooler.
Grocery shopping became an epic battle between the forces of good and asparagus.
Restaurant dining became a chance to eavesdrop on fans of San Francisco’s samurai superheroes.
Going to school was… going to school. Not even armor could change that.
Karl Goodson landed in the green lawn of the Davalos Estate with his orange armor clanking around him. “Fish Face!” He straightened and glanced over his shoulder. “You coming?”
Stan Hawthorne trekked valiantly up the hill, clutching his side with one hand. “You know, mate,” Stan called up to him, panting, “a soldier stabbed me today. Right here.” He pointed to his armored side.
“It was a little stab.” Karl shrugged. “You can’t even see it anymore.”
Stan rolled his eyes beneath his blue helmet. “Even if my armor healed up on the outside, I’m still bleeding underneath.” He scowled at the hidden wound. “I need stitches. I’ve got a recital tonight.”
Karl barked a laugh. “You’re fiddling around, right?”
Stan cocked his head. “Playing my violin.”
“Fiddling around.” Karl nudged him with his elbow. “Get it?”
“Karl.”
“If you were American you’d get it. Brits are lame.”
Stan was the only member of their little superhero family who laughed at Karl’s jokes, and even then, only half the time. Being British apparently came with a daily laugh quota.
“I got it, Karl. It’s just not funny.” Stan gestured to his side. “And I’m bleeding to death.”
Karl paused as the twinkling lights strung across the Davalos Castle plaza caught his attention.
“Hey, Fish Face.” Karl nodded at the people milling around under the lights. “What is today?”
“Friday.” Stan went whiter than normal. “The Hisagawa wedding rehearsal.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Hide!” Stan dove behind a redwood trunk.
Karl flopped behind a peony bush.
Stan peered out from behind his tree. “It’s a miracle they didn’t see us.”
Karl shoved a giant blossom out of his face. “Maybe they did.”
“Nobody’s screaming.”
“They shouldn’t be.” Karl pouted. “We’re heroes.”
“Aye, but they don’t know that.”
On the plaza, twenty people gazed directly over them toward the city, an impossible gauntlet of eyes they’d have to sneak past.
“I’m going to be late.” Stan slumped his face into his hands.
“Go wash in the bay. You’ll be fine.”
“Have you ever tried playing Rimsky-Korsakov with your spleen hanging out?”
“No, but that sounds like the best recital ever. Can I come?”
Stan moaned and banged his head against the tree trunk.
Karl scratched his neck. “We just have to get to the turret.”
Dr. Davalos had transformed the turret into a training area when he’d realized the five boys he’d adopted were superheroes with elemental samurai armors. Because, what else are you going to do when you’re a billionaire with a castle?
“I’ll boost you up to the window,” Karl said. “Then you just throw a rope down so I can climb up.”
“What?”
“It’s a great plan.”
“It’s a horrible plan.”
“Well, you’re the one who says I can’t jump.”
Shiren, his armor, was great at lifting things and throwing things and breaking things, but he never seemed to be able to jump as high as the rest of his teammates.
“It’s because you eat too many cookies, Karl.” Stan winced and grabbed his side. “Fine, we’ll do it your way. But if we’re spotted, it’s your fault.”
“Can’t it be your fault sometimes?”
“No.”
Together, they dashed across the lawn, armored boots muted against the thick grass. Approaching the castle base, they crept toward the foundation of the turret so that the open window was directly overhead. The conversation on the plaza buzzed.
Karl braced his foot against the bricks and laced his fingers together. “Now or never, Fish Face.”
Stan cast a cautious glance at the plaza and tip-toed out into the grass. He lined up with Karl, blew out a breath, and ran at him. Stan jumped and set his right boot in Karl’s hands. Karl thrust him upward.
Stan sailed into the air, blue armor a blur against the night, and soared high enough to grasp the windowsill of the top-most room of the turret.
“Yeah!” Karl pumped his fist.
Karl leaped onto the first level of the castle walkway and pressed his back against the turret wall, waiting for Stan to drop the rope.
Voices echoed along the walkway.
No rope yet.
What was taking so long?
The voices got louder.
Bad. Really bad.
He couldn’t be seen. One wedding rehearsal could wreck their secret identities.
Karl nodded to drop Shiren’s face shield and struck a pose as a long line of people marched down the walkway to the parking lot. All smiles and laughter, pointing fingers and excited giggling, the twenty-some people passed without comment.
Had they even noticed him?
Dude. I‘m a ninja.
Two more figures rounded the corner and froze. Karl swallowed hard. Father-of-the-Bride Mr. Hisagawa and Mia Davalos.
“What is this?” Mr. Hisagawa exclaimed, walking over to him with a beaming smile.
“Uh.” Mia stammered, her dark blue eyes wide. “Well… Um…”
“Amazing.” Mr. Hisagawa turned back to her in awe. “This is perfect. Having a few of these scattered around during my daughter’s wedding would be a nice touch.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Mia gawked at him.
Mr. Hisagawa patted Mia’s arm. “You always go the extra mile, Miss Davalos.” He walked away, whistling.
Mia glared at him. “Karl. What are you doing?”
Karl opened his mouth to answer, and a knotted-up bundle of rope plopped on top of his helmet. Stan peered out from the window above and waved with a sheepish grin.
Mia held up her hand. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. Just—get out of sight, please?” She hurried after Mr. Hisagawa.
Karl grabbed the rope and scurried quickly up the side of the turret.
Would wonders never cease?
Apparently even weddings were cooler with armor.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
YES. Brilliant. I love every part of it.
Yay!! Thank you! These two are so much fun. I’m so glad that Havok offers the chance to write flash fic with characters from our novels and series.
So much fun!
Yay!!!! It makes me so happy!!
Love it! And I can just picture the chaos that ensues when the rest of the team finds out it’s Karl’s fault they have to play statues at the wedding!
Right?? That might deserve another story lololol
I’ve officiated at weddings with horses, dogs, trees, armour would be easy. Fun story, and I like how you bring it full circle.
Thank you so much! (And, personally, I’d love to see a wedding with samurai armors scattered around…. how epic would that be?)
Yes, weddings would be way cooler with armor! (makes mental note)
This was such a fun story. I’m only sad to miss the Rimsky-Korsakov music 😉
I’m so glad you enjoyed it!! And I think Rimsky-Korsakov needs to happen…… Definitely.
Is it wrong to want an illustration to go with the story? Such fun!
(Reading it in armor is better too)
Lol! I might be able to help with that! These characters are in my new book I just released (Ronnie Akkard and the Brotherhood of Blades), and I’m working on getting illustrations done!
THIS. IS. GOLD. From the very first line, this story pulled me in, held my attention, and took my on an effortless, utterly hilarious, journey! I adore the character’s voices, and seriously need more of these guys in my life.
Because, man, stories are cooler with armor too.
Thank you so much! I adore these guys. And I’m very happy to tell you that if you’d like more of them in your life, my book RONNIE AKKARD AND THE BROTHERHOOD OF BLADES is all about these bozos. My email newsletter freebie is the first two chapters!
Ooh, Really!???? That’s so awesome! =D Excuse me while I go sign up XD
Lol!! Thank you! I hope you enjoy it!
I love your writing! You have a beautiful way of setting a scene, and these guys are hilarious together! I’ll have to check out the book!
Thank you so much. That’s so kind of you.