Non-Canon(For the Readers, of Course)
The soft patter of rain tapped gently on the roof, the kind that made the whole world feel slower, like it had stopped to listen. Inside the modest cottage, lit by a faint blue glow from the chessboard in the center of the room, two players sat across from each other.
Schwi moved her pawn forward precisely two squares. Riku responded with a knight. No words. Only the hum of thought between them.
Then—
BOOM.
The door exploded open in a flurry of wind, glitter, and something that smelled suspiciously like barbecue sauce and bad ideas.
Tet—crowned, grinning, and glowing with a dangerous level of enthusiasm—burst into the room, waving two sparklers like he'd just won a game no one else had been playing.
"You absolute traitors!" he cried, stepping over the fallen door like it was merely a suggestion. "You forgot the Fourth of July special!"
Schwi blinked, then glanced at Riku. "...The fourth of what?"
Riku looked up slowly from the board, expression blank but undeniably exhausted. "We don't have a 'July,' Tet."
Tet held up one finger dramatically, eyes shining. "Not with that attitude!"
Without warning, he tossed a massive tower of wooden blocks onto the floor. They glowed faintly with unstable divine energy and teetered ominously.
"Behold! Tet's Independence Day Jenga!" He struck a pose. Thunder rumbled behind him, despite the fact the house did not have a sky.
Schwi tilted her head. "Structure is unstable."
"Exactly!" Tet shouted. "Just like freedom!"
Before anyone could object, he had already begun setting rules none of them agreed to.
"Every block removed triggers a completely random magical side effect. If the tower falls, the loser is cursed with... being uncool for five minutes."
Riku sighed. "That's not how curses work."
"It is today!" Tet cackled, planting a sparkler into the floor like a flag.
Schwi made the first move. With mechanical elegance, she slid out a block. Immediately, Riku's hair lit up in harmless but aggressively festive sparklers.
"Acceptable," she said, without inflection.
Riku, too proud to retreat, pulled his block. The tower let out a low hum before launching into a cursed rendition of "Yankee Doodle" in reverse. He flinched.
Tet removed two blocks simultaneously and juggled them behind his back while standing on one foot. The tower wobbled. The laws of physics submitted a complaint.
"If it falls," Tet whispered with glee, "we all go down together."
Block by block, the tower groaned under its own ridiculous weight. Schwi measured each move with her usual analytical calm. Riku played with the kind of precision that only came from a man who knew exactly how much nonsense he could take before snapping.
Finally, Schwi's hand hovered over what she calculated to be the final safe piece. Her fingers brushed the surface.
"This game has no win condition," she said.
"Exactly," Tet said, eyes gleaming. "Just like life."
The tower collapsed in glorious slow motion. A thousand wooden fragments exploded into confetti and feathers. Tet stood in the center of it, arms raised like a conductor finishing the last note of a very stupid opera.
Everyone lay there in the rubble.
Breathing.
Staring at the ceiling.
Covered in glitter.
Riku groaned. "This wasn't even part of the story…"
Tet, lying upside-down in a pile of flags and sparklers, gave the sky a wink.
"Nope. But it was for the readers. And if they smiled, then it counts."
He paused, then looked directly—blatantly—at you.
"Happy Fourth of July, you wonderful chaotic beings. Now go set off a sparkler in someone's honor."
He grinned.
"Preferably mine."