Fandom: Azumanga Daioh
Word Count: 377
Disclaimer: I don't own Azumanga Daioh. But I would adopt Chiyo-chan's father, if it ever came up. Ya know. Just because.
“It’s a cemetary!” Tomo said dramatically, flinging out one hand to point to the scenary that lay across the street from the car; they had stopped at a red light. “A cemetary! A cemetary!”
“We get it,” Yomi said flatly. “What’s your point?” Meanwhile, Osaka and Chiyo looked on curiously, and Nyamo (who had been good enough to offer them a ride and was thus sitting in the driver’s seat) smiled and said nothing, but merely listened.
“Don’t you know anything?” Tomo said with all the imperial attitude of a queen addressing some lowly peon. “There are ghosts in cemetaries!”
“G-ghosts?” Chiyo gasped and clutched at Osaka’s arm.
Osaka had gone about two shades paler. “Whaddya mean, ghosts?”
This time Tomo shook her head. “I mean that the spirits of the dead like to hang around in cemetaries. And if you’re not careful, you could breathe one in.” She nodded. “The only way to avoid breathing in a ghost is to hold your breath until you’ve passed the cemetary.”
The light ahead changed to green, and Nyamo pressed the gas.
Chiyo let out a squawk and quickly inhaled, pursing her lips together and puffing out her cheeks to hold in a big breath of air. Osaka did more or less the same (but without so much puffing of the cheeks), and the two held onto each other. Tomo egged them on with cries of, “Hurry! Hurry!” before echoing them and taking a breath to hold herself.
Riding shotgun, Yomi rolled her eyes.
They went another block, placing them squarely in front of the cemetary—and then Nyamo stopped the car again as warning lights went on and a red and white striped arm lowered in front of the vehicle. “Uh-oh,” the teacher said. “Looks like we’ve got to wait for a train.
The bug-eyed looks on the reddened faces of the three girls in the backseat was good enough that Yomi wished she had a camera. Her money was on Osaka giving up first. Then Chiyo, and Tomo…
Eh, Tomo would probably go until she blacked out, if only out of some misguided attempt to prove some ridiculous point. She just had to the best at everything. But at least it would be quiet for a while.
PS. Written for a prompt of "H is for hold" for the wonderful fullmetalgear18. Thanks for reading!