Truly, there is no greater bond than that of childhood familiarity. The pinky promises, the notes passed back and forth during class, the sleepovers and secrets shared in the dead of night.
Spork and Mari did not have that. They had family dinners and awkwardly forced playdates and the choice to sit next to each other during group reading time at school. They made that choice, and, gradually, things began to change.
Spork, quiet and obedient while they figured the world out and decided where they stood on important things like friendships and favorite snacks, was a prime target for all the malicious impulses of elementary schoolers. Their parents couldn’t catch wind of it, or they’d surely be pulled out of school before you could say “new teaching aid.” So, they dealt with the bullies in their own way. Maybe it wouldn’t be the strategy most adults would advise, but they came to appreciate the simple joy of surprising an obnoxious classmate with a sharp elbow jab or a cane stuck out at just the right angle as they walked past.
They didn’t get in trouble, of course, because who could blame the poor blind kid for not paying attention to where other people were standing? They turned up the charm and played into the deep misconceptions held by their teachers and parents, because it was more convenient that way. But, naturally, this didn’t help their social life much. Their circle of friends was so small they could count them on one hand. Close friends, one finger, though that might be considered rude if an adult saw them.
And so it continued. Spork and Mari against the world. Or, at least that’s how it felt about half the time. For the other half, they were just family friends who happened to live across the street from one another.
At least, that's how it was until Mari’s mom died. Suddenly Spork was expected to console her, or at least their parents expected them to, even if they weren’t sure she really needed it at first. They'd heard the phrase "a shoulder to cry on" and took it to heart, which luckily was just what she needed. They made a good effort and spent the rest of the time pulling her into games and weaving stories and building pillow forts. Anything to distract her or make her laugh. And so, despite their differences, the two grew into fast friends.
The world would never recover from this turn of events. With Spork’s penchant for retributive violence and Mari’s quick, sharp wits, they carved their way through high school and got an apartment together when Spork dropped out halfway through college. It’s not that they were bad at school, necessarily, but higher education was much more their parents’ dream than their own.
When they caught wind of Mari’s mercenary gig, they were shocked and appalled. They couldn’t believe she hadn’t invited them to join sooner, and sped their way through training so that they could pull their weight as her partner in crime once more.
Alias: Shiba