Fake Wings

Requested/challenged by Mamono

One Shot

Required line: "My life changed with a dice roll"

Standard disclaimers apply

I don't believe in luck. I don't care how many times she's shown up at my door, had tea with me, and petted my dogs, I don't believe in luck. Or if she exists, "Luck" isn't her real name. I mean, generally luck means a good thing, right? I bet that's just a nickname she got from a few rather "lucky" fellows in high school, or decided to call herself that out of spite. I should report it to a tabloid, try to make it front page news, right next to the story about the five headed Elvis baby from Venus: "Lady Luck" is just a pen name for the Goddess or Irony herself.

I probably sound like such a hypocrite for saying this, as I came to be where I am by luck; seemingly flying high on her wings, drunk under the influence of her guiding hand. After all, Pegasus J. Crawford surely doesn't read his every email with game ideas, but he read mine. Not every person with a passion for games has the luck to be able to pursue them as a career. And certainly very few children in the world are blessed with stunning, beautiful and completely natural good looks such as mine. I used to think that luck was on my side...

Ironic how my life was changed with a dice roll.

There was a man by the name of Sugoroku Muoto who played a cursed game against my father, and won. As far as I'm concerned, the game was fatal, because although still breathing, the loss had marred father almost beyond recognition, and had tainted his heart with revenge and hatred so deeply that there was no room for love. And me? I was just a little boy who'd do anything just to find a place in his father's heart; to belong... but no one could, not even mom. She left us one foggy June morning, and never turned back. But before she walked out that door, she placed a plainly wrapped parcel in my hand, patted my head, and kissed my cheek. Almost made me feel like she cared, like she'd come back for me. I figured all I was doing now was biding my time until she found the right apartment, settled in, and welcomed me with open arms. With a smile, I opened that tiny package... and found five red dice. I studied their dotted sides for a moment, then stacked four on top of each other. The fifth, I flicked into the tower, and watched them clatter to the table. It felt strangely comforting, building and destroying that stack of dice. I found myself mumbling under my breath while I continued this, cursing mother for leaving, cursing father for not being able to feel. I guess it was almost too relieving, because I eventually found myself screaming though my tears as I stacked those cubes again, "Muto." And the dice fell, clattering around the table before each one landed with one white dot staring up at me.

I hadn't noticed it, but at one point, my father had walked into the front room where I was sitting as this went on. And... and when I was done, he looked at me as if he were finally seeing me, and he scooped me up in his arms.

"My son." He whispered for the first time since the fateful game. "My son... you will carry out my revenge." And with those words, he began to numb me with his voice, with his hatred and goals, and I felt myself falling...

I've only just begun to find myself; to forgive and to bury the past, to promise myself to keep looking forward and to never look back. But I'll be damned if another pack of admirers cling to my designer jacket and tell me how lucky I am.