The Lucky Star in the Setting Sunset

~ II ~

Closer than just Physical

The Fall Formal was either a time for friends or for people to become friends. The passing of a season and entry into something new. Winter and cold meant a lot more in the days of the past. People had to join together while the air was warm, while they were still warm, joining before the cold came.

Something better handled once all came together and, even if some became cold, their previous warmth was known. Celebrations like these were devised for such reasons. Even if the cues and cause for them weren’t threats as they once were... the joining of people, the exchanging of warmth, the promises to each other of better tomorrows were good causes in of themselves.

Lucky Star sat on a crate with her legs over the edge, kicking, swinging through the air. Many of her friends rocked the floor in the stomping of their feet. The vibrations jolted through the wood and underneath her rear. It wasn’t an effect she minded much.

Though action was happening all around her... the miniature girl was taken to the playing of her mind.

She’s not here. Not that she would come. But... she’s not anywhere in school either. Star tilted back her head, blowing a heavy breath, unable to escape the constricting of her skin to something not being right. Things didn’t blow over as much as she would like. And it doesn’t look like anyone else is trying hard to find her either.

The last few days were strange, but not due to being uncomfortable, though rather, evoking growing concern. Lucky felt watched. Down the halls. In the class. Eating on the table in the cafeteria. When the weight of a gaze settled on Lucky’s shoulders, the miniature girl looked around, spotting, though without giving it away, the worried eyes of Sunset.

Were her words true? It didn’t feel like she scared me to be terrifying. Lucky dipped forward, lifting a foot onto the wooden edge. Hugging the knee against her chest, she cradled herself, rocking back and forth. Just felt like one outsider speaking to another. Two different paths for the same kind of person. Even in an evil way—she was telling me to better look out for the world around me.

And considering how Lucky was nearly sat on by countless couples walking past the box she sat on... Sunset was right to advise more caution. Lucky wouldn’t have believed she’d need it. But having it scared into her, well: matters were given a more profound, second thought.

Scared me when she had to. Caring and concerned and protecting after that. Even if she never said a thing. If Sunset had done it only to be mean... then all this looking out wouldn’t make sense. Rather, she wanted to help. Only didn’t want anyone thinking that at all. For such a strong and powerful girl... you’re also a complex puzzle, aren’t you?

The incident before rushed to mind. Battle of two powers at the front of the school. Sunset had transformed into something else, like a demon—what people believed her to really be underneath the surface. Lucky didn’t see that. All she witnessed was a monster with the eyes of a lost, terrified girl.

But few—if any—saw that.

Staying here isn’t going to clear my mind—not with this music playing. Luck rose from the crate and begun her journey across it. Getting down would be tricky. Across the dance floor trickier. But her added caution to the world rendered such treks possible. Maybe there’s better luck outside. If not... at least fresh air is nice.

She’d been sitting in the crater.

Though the trek was long, far, and mixed with the soreness of aching legs... Lucky arrived at the edge of the crater to see the towering woman sitting there. Legs dangled over it, staring into its center. Her face and eyes lost to the world. Stuck in heavy contemplation—the type not kind on the mind.

“I know you’re there.” Lucky shivered at hearing the voice. She’d neared the bottom of the giant’s jeans, gazing across the landscape of Sunset’s back. It was slumped. Shoulders the same. Total dejection. “Go back to the party. Get too close and I may shift my bottom and sit on you.”

“And you think I wouldn’t like that?”

Sunset’s head lifted if only by an inch. It turned, tilting, eyes now glowing from over the edge of her shoulder. Only their topside could be seen. Brilliant and piercing and fixated entirely on the tiny. “Still haven’t learned your lesson—have you? Small and alone and before the great bad. Do you know all the horrible things I could do to you... without anyone knowing.”

Lucky shrugged. “I’d probably enjoy half those things.” Then nodded. “And the other half you couldn’t force yourself to do.”

“Like swallow you?”

“By accident.”

“Still did it.”

“And still coughed me up and ensured I was okay.”

“What are you trying to pull here?”

“Not trying to pull anything.” Lucky came around the broad bottom of the girl, not that it wasn’t overly vast, but rather, became so in the size difference. In truth it was supple and achieved perfect curvature—filling out the denim ever so slightly. “Just the kinda girl that calls things as she sees them. Tend to notice more than the usual person at this size. Even if only because small things are bigger to me.”

Lucky took a seat next to the giant, both of them sitting upon the edge of the crater, not saying words, not doing acts. They kept in silence. Sometimes speaking the right words at the right time isn’t the right thing to do. Maybe, given the current context, sitting there, silently, and being there is all it takes to earn the trust of a villain.

Sunset cried.

Not outright. Never loudly. But streams coursed from the welling of Sunset's eyes and created a river down the slope of her cloven cheeks. She didn’t dare glancing at the tiny. Not a word or a phrase or a wisecrack or a whimper. Silently crying...and not terribly upset by it.

Lucky didn’t have to say anything either. Only placing her hands onto the asphalt and leaning back, stretching, warmed by the moonlight. Being there was enough. Letting the big girl let it all out, without being judged or advised or anything of the sort paved the way for connection. And in genuine connection: came truth.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person,” Lucky said upon fixating on the stars, becoming lost in the greatness of space. It had a slowing, cooling, and peaceful effect on her body. One always looked at the big picture when confronted with the biggest thing of them all. “Despite the stories. Enduring the rumors. Everything always seemed inflated... little bit off from the truth.”

“...they spoke the truth.”

“Maybe they spoke some of it,” Lucky countered. “What they saw and felt and went through. Not that you didn’t do anything bad or aggressive.” She shook her head. “Just seemed like someone special who got lost along the way. One thing goes wrong, react badly to something after, things snowball... something like that.”

“Know m-my life story?”

“Hardly.” Lucky glanced up to the face of the giant, which turned to meet it, tears streaming fully. “Only got swallowed by you a few days ago.”

“Har-har.” Sunset rubbed beneath her eyes. “Keep talking like this... and I might do it again.”

“And once more: you think I have an issue with that?” Lucky chuckled, and seconds later, Sunset did so too. She tried fighting back the tears, to repress her crying. But the acceptance of it... allowed her to indulge in the pent-up release. “But I have seen you keeping an eye out for me. Spreading word for people to pay better attention for the tiny girl running past their feet. Even had a few people become my friends if only to appease you.”

“Wimps.”

Lucky laughed. “Had trouble holding myself back from saying the same thing. No friendship in merely making friends.” She shook her head. “They meant well. But meaning well and doing well doesn’t always mean the same thing.” She glanced to the face still coursing with streams of salty waters. “You’d know a thing or two about that, wouldn’t you?”

Sunset sniffled. “Maybe. You the exception?”

“You don’t get a wit this sharp without accidentally cutting a person or two.” Lucky swallowed. “But I did my best to make things right after every time I mess up. I think that makes me a good person.” She lowered her head. “And you did exactly the same as me, so...”

“Think that cheap logic is going to work?”

“Prove me wrong if you will.”

“I’ve... lived a bad life.” Sunset rose her knees into the air. “Started off good though bore one or two insecurities. Lived with a princess and a mentor that loved me... but not enough to make it deeply known.” She hugged them against her chest, laying her head atop them. “From what I hear, she did better on her next student. Guess that makes me the failed project, huh?”

“Do you know she feels that way?”

“Haven’t written a letter in ages.”

“Maybe things can be worked out?”

“This crater begs to differ.”

“Ever presume to be a decent person grasped by something terrible?” Lucky mimicked the massive girl by doing the same. Hugging herself tightly made it easier to talk deeply with the giant. “Lost yourself to bad causes, and yet, did well when you could. And tonight feels like something’s changed within you.”

“Some sixth-sense you’ve got there.”

“Took it from inside your stomach,” Lucky said. “Did you know there’s a treasure chest in there?”

“Gold eater instead of gold-digger?” Sunset shrugged. “Guess I can take that.”

“I prefer kind and caring girl looming beneath the surface,” Lucky continued. “You’re someone special. No denying that. But you play it to the heights of a villain while trying to do as much good as you can once you’re not in the spotlight. People already respect you. Why do you think that will change if you do?”

Sunset sniffled. “Suppose... it’s a part of me now.” She shook her head as if to fight away certain thoughts—but they crept on her the same. To her respect, however, she fought, answering, every one. “The part of me that feels more, better, is tied within that character. It allows me to be something above myself.”

“And you think if you dropped the act... everything else about you would do the same.”

“Can’t be certain.” Sunset nodded. “But it seems possible.”

“Cut it! You know it won’t be like that.” Lucky stood from the edge, walking across it. Coming to the side of the giant’s legs, she placed her hand, letting it sink into denim, connecting with the body, the skin beneath. “You’ll still be teasing and intelligent and witty and so many other things. Your fundamental base doesn’t change. It’s just how you express it does.”

Sunset wiped her eyes a final time. “Heh. That’s what you think? It’s not the character giving me strength, but rather, the reverse?”

“You were strong whenever you dropped your character.” Lucky rubbed across the lowest-portion of Sunset’s thigh. It probably went unfelt. But the act itself, what it meant, shuddered through the towering woman. “How could you still be so great when you weren’t playing a part? Maybe something of you hoped for more. But... rarely does absolution come from within.”

Sunset chuckled as her legs pulled away from her chest. She exposed herself again, more of her body. The front of her top pushed out by the contained-mountains of her breasts. Perfectly defined against the fabric to the rising inch of every curve. The fibres coated it, supplementing their shape—allowing for greater sensation to both the eyes and the lucky hand.

“You’re not a usual student, are you?”

“Jeez.” Lucky shrugged. “What gave you that impression?”

“Guess I’m not much of a normal student either—not even in the world before this.” Sunset had stopped peering into the crater. “Should have learned my lesson the first time... but I guess second time's the charm, right?” Pushing her hair over her shoulder, she gazed above and over the disaster. “New world. New place. New life.”

“Coward.”

“...what?”

“You’re a coward! We go through all the only for you to keep playing a coward!” Lucky stepped back from the curved dam of denim, her head tilted all the way back, gaze travelling over the towering span of Sunset’s body—staring at her head looming where clouds belonged. “Doesn’t matter how great you are! Everyone makes mistakes! Some small and some severe.”

“This is way too far in the latter.”

“And you didn’t get any wisdom from this talk? That stuff is supposed to cause you to make less of them.” Lucky held her arms out to the sides, fully putting herself out there. To some, however, she may have looked like she wanted to be picked up. “You’ve learned from your mistake! You’ve begun to improve! Running away because you feel bad isn’t something you do for others.”

“And what are you proposing?” Sunset fired back with zero hostility in her voice. It’s choking of every other word ensured that. “Tell everyone I’m sorry? Make friends with all I bullied for the last few years? Convince everyone I’m not a demon.”

“People change or can be changed.” Lucky dropped her arms to her sides. “Improve from this. Slowly prove it. You’ll win a few people by this.” She nodded with determination. “Earn their forgiveness and become filled with genuine friendship. You’ll improve overall from it. People will notice the greatness used to better effect... and want to be close to you again.”

“Forgiveness, huh?” Sunset fully turned as her butt slid against the ground, the colossal front of her body twisting into view. Lucky stumbled back a few steps, needing to do so, if only to see the head beyond the black, covered mountains jutting out from Sunset’s chest. “How about you? After everything I said and did. Even though I tried being nice and making things right.” She swallowed. “Could you genuinelyforgive someone who did that? Not mere words. But truly forgive them?”

It should be noted that Lucky, in giving her answer, didn’t hesitate a second. “Course I would! Already did the day after.” She grinned. “Really think I’d go through all this hassle if I didn’t? Just doesn’t make logical sense! Tee-hee!”

Sunset didn’t have any words as she cried again and, much like before, the beats of denial were tamed by the same means that encouraged success. Out from the side, the crane of a golden hand swooped the tiny girl, rolling her onto a series of fingers—before meshing them into the plushness of her left mountain.

Lucky didn’t mind as she sunk into the softness of the buttery mound, the padding accentuating the feeling, a sporadic heartbeat lulling like a melody. Sunset held Lucky close to her heart, allowing her to recline on her personal mountain. An intimacy forgotten for a decade. The resolution found... because confessing your sins to a minuscule lady rendered the act a little easier to do.