Kiki’s Delivery Service fanfic (F/f)

[Im.V]

The market square buzzed with life as the afternoon sun began to dip. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, mingling with the distant chatter of children playing and the occasional squawk of a seagull. Kiki, the young witch from the outskirts of town, had become a familiar face here, her broomstick weaving through the crowd as she made her deliveries. Her business, Kiki's Delivery Service, had been thriving since she'd moved to the coastal city. Today, she had a particularly special delivery to make.

At thirteen, Kiki had the poise of someone much older. She wore her plain black dress, the hem fluttering slightly as she flew. The dress, while simple, had become a sort of uniform for her, setting her apart from the other townsfolk in a way that made her feel unique. The sleeves of her dress had been rolled up to her elbows, revealing her slender, capable forearms, which were lightly dusted with flour from her morning spent baking.

The cobblestone streets below were a blur as she made her way through the city. Normally, her black shoes accompanied her on her flights, but today she was forced to go barefoot. A mischievous cat had shredded the laces the night before, and she hadn't had the time to replace them. The feel of the cool, rough stones under her feet was a small price to pay for the thrill of the air rushing past her toes. Besides, the shoes had been a bit snug anyway. The freedom of the open air on her bare soles made her feel more connected to the world around her, as if she could feel the pulse of the city beneath her.

Kiki approached the address on the note with excitement. The building was a peculiar one, standing out from the rest of the quaint houses with its ornate, almost whimsical architecture. It looked like something out of a storybook, with ivy creeping up the sides and a steep, pointed roof that seemed to touch the clouds. Her heart raced as she hovered before the heavy, wooden door. This delivery was to a very important client, and she didn't want to mess it up. Gently, she knocked with her knuckles and waited, clutching the basket of goodies she'd made especially for the occasion.

The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit interior that smelled faintly of dust and aged paper. An old woman with a stern expression peered out, her eyes sharp despite her wrinkled face. She looked Kiki up and down before her expression softened into something that might've been a smile. "You must be Kiki," she said in a croaky voice. "Come in, come in. I've been expecting you."

Kiki stepped over the threshold, her eyes adjusting to the gloom. The interior was cluttered, with bookshelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling, their contents threatening to spill out onto the floor. A thick layer of dust covered everything, making it clear that the woman didn't receive many visitors. "Thank you," Kiki said politely, setting the basket down on a nearby table. "Your order is here."
The old woman's eyes lit up as she inspected the contents. "Ah, just what I needed," she murmured, her hands moving over the treats with surprising grace. "You've outdone yourself, young one."
Kiki felt a warm blush spread across her cheeks. "Thank you, I hope you enjoy them."

The old woman looked up at her, her gaze piercing. "You know," she began, "it's quite rare to see a witch around here. Especially one as young and talented as yourself. It would be a real treat to have company tomorrow."
Kiki hesitated, her stomach fluttering with nerves. While the idea of staying and sharing stories with someone who understood her lifestyle was tempting, she had responsibilities. "I'm sorry," she replied, her voice firm despite the butterflies in her stomach. "But I have another delivery to make, and I can't stay."
The woman's smile didn't waver. "Oh, I understand," she said. "But do consider it. I rarely have guests, and I promise it will be worth your while."

The woman reached for a peculiar-looking camera, its brass frame gleaming in the low light. "Before you go," she said, "could I possibly get a photograph with you and your broom?"
Surprised but flattered, Kiki agreed. It wasn't every day she was asked for a photograph, after all. The old woman instructed her to hold her broom behind her back, with the straw pointing upwards. Kiki did as she was told, feeling a bit awkward but also a thrill of excitement.

As she posed, the woman began to fiddle with a coil of rope that was lying on a nearby chair. "It must be so difficult to hold onto your broom like that," she said, her eyes never leaving her task. "Let me just tie it to you, so you can keep your hands free."

Kiki's brows furrowed in confusion, but she nodded. The woman approached her with surprising agility and began to loop the rope around her shoulders. It was rough against her skin, but she figured it would be a quick and easy solution. However, as the ropes began to tighten, she realized with a sinking feeling that something was amiss. The woman's knots were too precise, too deliberate. Panic began to uncoil in her chest, but she kept her voice calm. "Ma'am, I think this might be a bit too much," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I can manage to hold the broom without it."

The old woman didn't pause in her task. "Nonsense, dear," she said, her tone still friendly but with a hint of something else—something that sent a shiver down Kiki's spine. "We want it to look just right for the picture, don't we?"

Kiki felt the rope tighten around her waist, her arms pinned to her sides, the broomstick pressed firmly against her back. The old woman worked the rope down to Kiki’s ankles, tying her to the broomstick with a series of knots that seemed to be more about restraint than artful photography. With each loop, the panic grew louder in her ears. "Ma'am, please," Kiki protested, trying to keep her voice calm and steady. "I really must go."

But the woman was relentless. "Almost done," she cackled, her smile stretching wide. "Just a few more knots, and then you won't have to worry about a thing."
Soon Kiki was as stiff as the broom stick that she was bound to, her head, hands and feet the only parts of herself she can move. The room felt smaller, the air thick with tension. "Ma'am, I don't think this is necessary," she managed to say.

The old woman stepped back to admire her handiwork, the camera hanging forgotten at her side. "Now, don't you worry, dear," she said, her voice dropping to a sinister whisper. "You're going to be my little secret, my own personal witch for all my needs."
Kiki's heart raced. Her thoughts tumbled over each other like a waterfall. How could she escape? Who would miss her? The townsfolk knew her flight patterns; they'd notice if she didn't return to her usual spot by the bakery.

The old woman helped Kiki lay down on her back, the ropes digging into her skin and the broomstick pressing uncomfortably into her spine. With a wink, she disappeared into another room, leaving Kiki to struggle against her bindings. Kiki's mind raced, searching for a way to free herself. She twisted and pulled, feeling the rope bite into her skin, but the knots held firm. The more she moved, the tighter the ropes grew. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.

Few minutes passed, then through the corner of her eye, she spotted a flicker of movement. A spotted cat sailed through a open doorway with the grace of a shadow, its eyes immediately drawn to the struggling witch. Kiki recognized the creature; it was the same one that had shredded her shoelaces the night before. The mischievous glint in its eye suggested it had noticed her predicament and found it highly amusing.

The cat prowled closer, its tail swishing with curiosity. As it approached, Kiki felt a spark of hope. Could she use the animal's playful nature to her advantage? She began to murmur soothingly, trying to coax it closer. The cat's eyes narrowed, but it didn't retreat. It sat down a few feet away, watching her with rapt attention.

With a deep breath, Kiki began to wiggle her fingers and toes, trying to communicate her plight. The cat's gaze darted between her eyes and her wiggling digits, and then finally settled on her toes. It leaned in, nose twitching as it sniffed at the ropes. Kiki wiggled more frantically, hoping the animal would understand.

To her relief, the cat's eyes lit up with what looked like comprehension. It took a tentative lick at the rope around her ankle. The rope remained tight, but the gesture filled her with hope. "Good kitty," she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. "Could you help me?"

The feline paused, as if considering her words. Then, as if it had made up its mind, it began to paw at the knots. Kiki bit her lip to keep from crying out as the cat's sharp claws grazed her skin. She knew that she had to be patient, that any sudden movement could spook the creature away.

The cat's tongue darted out, and it began to lick the ropes around her ankles. The sensation was strange, but Kiki remained still, willing the animal to understand her silent plea for help. However, the cat's attention was more focused on the salty taste of her skin as she felt the cat’s tongue licking at the sensitive skin on the side of Kiki’s foot. She had to fight the urge to giggle.

“No, not my feet,” she murmured, trying not to startle the animal. “Please, the knots.” The cat's eyes met hers, and for a moment, Kiki could have sworn she saw a spark of understanding. But then the cat's paw swiped at her bare toes, tickling her mercilessly. Despite her situation, a giggle escaped her lips. “Oh, please stop, you little rascal!”

The cat's licks grew more insistent, and Kiki's giggles turned to laughs as the cat’s tongue brushed against her soles. It was a bizarre situation to find humor in, but the absurdity of it all washed over her, and she couldn't help herself thrash in her restraints. Her wiggling feet fueled the cat’s instincts to keep playing, and it swiped at her toes with glee. Kiki's eyes watered, and she tried to keep her breathing steady, not wanting to scare it off.

Suddenly, the broomstick beneath her began to vibrate. The cat's eyes grew wide, and it stopped licking, its gaze fixed on the quivering broom. Kiki felt the same energy that she used to command her broom in flight, and she realized with a jolt of hope that she might be able to escape after all. She focused her thoughts at the will to escape, willing the broom to rise.

Her heart pounded as the broomstick, still tied to her body, began to hover. It was an odd sensation, feeling the wood lift her bound form into the air, but she didn't dare move too much for fear of losing control. The old woman's eyes widened in shock as she stumbled back into the room, a tray of tea in her hands. The teacups clattered to the floor, shattering into a hundred pieces, the sound echoing through the silent house.

"What on earth are you doing?" she demanded, but Kiki had no time to answer as she was flying around the room, the broomstick jerking her bound body with every twitch and turn. The cat took off like a shot, disappearing into the shadows.
Kiki had to look over her toes to see where she is going as she tried to control this strange turn of events. She'd never flown like this before but desperation made her focus. The old woman looked both terrified and enraged as she stumbled backward.

Suddenly Kiki saw the front door open, at the floor next to the open door, was the cat. Not knowing how the cat opened the door, Kiki shot out of the house with a quick response to the cat “thank you!”

The old woman's cries of protest grew distant as Kiki and the broom soared over the rooftops, the wind blowing right on Kiki’s soles and between her toes in a warm breeze. Despite her awkward position and the panic still lingering in her chest, she felt a thrill of exhilaration
Kiki managed to fly over to the bakery, where she lived in a spare bedroom due to the kindness of the owner. With an awkward motion, Kiki maneuver the broom to point downward and slowly landed on her feet.

A woman pushing a baby stroller stopped when Kiki landed infront of her. “Oh, what happened to you?”
Kiki sighed “I rather just forget it” she said. With the flex of her ankles, Kiki hopped closer to the woman and asks “can you please untie me?”

[mserika]

I've never gotten around to watch the movie - I really should, when I've watched most of Ghibli's other movies! - but I feel like this story is told in the spirit of how the movies would go, with plucky and resourceful heroine. Such an experience must've been quite the scare for the poor girl
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