[fanfic] where he can be found, pt. 3 [Tiger & Bunny]

[rex_sun]

Title: where he can be found
Rating: PG-13 (violence, mild adult themes)
Fandom: Tiger & Bunny
Characters: Barnaby Brooks Jr.-centric. Albert Maverick, Kotetsu T. Kaburagi.
Summary: (Alternate storyline.) Kotetsu T. Kaburagi haunts Barnaby even five years after. But if he will not be found in the lightof goodness, then Barnaby will go to where he can be found: in darkness only.

Wild Tiger is a mysterious man; Barnaby used to tease him for being old fashioned, but over the years it became blatantly, nay, inescapably clear how serious he was about his 'secret identity'. Even amongst heroes, Wild Tiger never revealed his name or removed his domino mask. Barnaby's feelings towards the matter could be charted with a bell curve. At first Barnaby couldn't have cared less for the man, and so couldn't have cared less to find out the man's identity. Then there came a time when it was almost all Barnaby thought about; they were supposed to be partners, friends even, so why--

(And something Barnaby couldn't hide from himself if he wanted to: there were, at times, chaste but very intimate nighttime fantasies of reaching out, reaching up, and baring the man's face. 'Who are you?' )

But in time Barnaby's inept flirting and unsubtle expressions wavered: they didn't get him any closer to that far-off island of Wild Tiger's loving favor. The man was untouchable, his heart a speck on the distant horizon. He'd been encouraged at times-- by Fire Emblem, who else? --to be more direct, blunter. He personally thought he could make his feelings no clearer, and yet Tiger never took the bait. In his mind-- admittedly inexperienced in the field of romance but at the very least sincere --Tiger's lack of response was a pretty clear indicator to cease and desist. No amount of pushing, he felt, would ever get him closer, and probably only farther.

That's the way they have stayed until this day: Tiger straight-backed and forward-looking, and Barnaby always looking at his back, longing. It is sweet in its own way, Barnaby reasons, and that's why he's let it be. But in times like this... In times like this something inside of Barnaby moans, 'It isn't right.'

"Yo! What's up, lil' Bunny?"

Barnaby flushes and fakes a look around the locker room-- (there's no need; he came in knowing it would be just the two of them; the others have all left for a night's rest) --before sitting on the bench closest to Wild Tiger. Wild Tiger watches him sit, cocks his head in consideration, and then sits down next to him. Tiger looks at Barnaby with his entire attention; it's always been very flattering and unsettling, but when Tiger interacts with Barnaby, it's as if he can take no more input at the time than what Barnaby is feeding him.

"I--" he takes a deep breath "--need your help with something."

"Of course," Wild Tiger pronounces at once. "I am your partner. It is my job to help you."

For some reason Barnaby feels a bit disappointed at that. He's not sure why-- 'partner' is it's own intimacy, isn't it? But when he says 'job'--

"No," Barnaby demurs softly, shaking his head. "Please don't feel obligated to do this. It's not related to work."

Wild Tiger smiles again, unfazed. "I will always help Barnaby."

Barnaby allows a pause to acknowledge that such words should be touching. Then he continues, "It's just that--...well, I may be being silly. It's embarrassing to talk about, but, er... I'd like you to accompany me someplace. I have a feeling that maybe, if you're with me, then I'll feel more resolved somehow."

He knows he's being irritatingly vague, but--

"Okay," Wild Tiger agrees easily. "When would you like to go?"

Barnaby adjusts his glasses, feeling rather flustered. The man certainly doesn't ever seem to have outside obligations, does he? "Whenever you're free and up to it, I suppose."

"I am free tonight," Tiger says.

"Tonight!"

"Are you free tonight, too?" Tiger asks.

"Er-- well-- yes, I-- I'd have to make a call, but--"

"Alright." Tiger nods once as if that seals the deal. "I'll get dressed to go out."

As Wild Tiger begins to strip off his gym clothes, Barnaby hurriedly whirls around and dials Molly. He tries to keep his voice smooth, but he is painfully aware that he fails spectacularly.

*

"Is this where you wanted to go?" Wild Tiger asks.

He steps ahead of Barnaby and surveys the plaza trussed up for a Christmas Eve that approached far too quickly in Barnaby's opinion. The lights dazzle and halo around his strong, solid, stolid body. His shoulders and the feathers of his hair glow red; the brown of his skin shines with a new and previously missing sort of health underneath the great yellow lamps. Somewhere a choir sings and mostly everywhere there is the soft tinkle of little mechanical scene models. There is the constant scrape of blade on ice and faces all around either cheerful or stressed. And there is proud Wild Tiger, standing unabashedly in the biting winds as if he doesn't feel a thing.

Quite aside from memories of one ruined night years and years ago, something here, unidentified, makes Barnaby sick and miserable. It’s a physical ailment just as much as a mental one. Rather, the mental discord, dissonance—the sudden knowledge that something is very, very wrong—is so strong that his body tries to convince him that it is what is wrong, and shows off by twisting his stomach powerfully and speeding up his heart.

“What was it that you needed help with?” Wild Tiger asks as he turns back.

Barnaby takes off his glasses and rubs between his eyes with one freezing-cold hand. His vision swam just now; for a moment, Barnaby thought he saw Kotetsu Kaburagi.

“Are you alright?” Tiger inquires, tilting his head with a frown and stepping forward. Embarrassed, Barnaby takes a hasty step back.

“I’m fine, Tiger—”

“Alright,” Tiger says easily. He gestures broadly once again. “So what did you need help with?”

“Oh,” Barnaby flushes. He replaces his glasses just to occupy his hands. “Well—to be honest, I’m not quite sure what it is. But…” Tiger waits patiently for more explanation until Barnaby feels absolutely obligated to continue. “I’ve been having these strange thoughts lately. I had this crazy feeling that maybe coming here would clear my head.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest.”

“I see. So what shall I do to help you?”

“Just…” Barnaby bites his lip and decides to study the nearest stall. “Be with me?”

“Alright,” Wild Tiger says again, nodding solemnly.

It’s too simple an acceptance for something Barnaby considers so important, but it’s an acceptance at least. When Barnaby begins to walk for lack of more concrete ideas, Wild Tiger steps beside him, serene, untroubled. But this time, his stoic nature does not save Barnaby. Barnaby can’t put his finger on it but something is greatly unsettling about this time and place. Anxiety spikes through Barnaby in waves, metal and electricity.

They walk very slowly, heads tilted against the wind. Barnaby would call it almost a bridal step—so slowly even a kid riding a tiger cart passes them by. Barnaby’s body seems to know what it’s doing even if he doesn’t; it takes him along patiently, and almost like a metal detector at a beach, it reacts more and more strongly as he walks. They pass by the skating rink, by stalls with apples pies and stalls with hanging crowds waiting to buy last-moment deals. Wild Tiger asks once if Barnaby would like anything from the stall; Barnaby quickly shakes his head no, and Tiger drops it just as quickly.

“Then what about a photo?” he asks next, pointing to the large Christmas tree and the photo service operating in front of it.

(Barnaby and Maverick took a photo there. So why, in his dream, did it suddenly change to Samantha just for that one moment?)

“I have a headache,” Barnaby mutters, turning his back on the tree. His heart had been speeding up the longer he looked at it.

“Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know.”

Barnaby rubs his itching hands together and tries to calm down with a few deep breaths.

(He can’t look at Tiger too long before he starts to think about how much Kotetsu Kaburagi managed to look like him.)

“Tiger—have we been here before? Together?”

“It’s possible.” Wild Tiger shrugs it off so casually.

Barnaby stares at Wild Tiger, open-mouthed and frowning.

“We have…” he says breathlessly.

(Wait… wait… was it Wild Tiger he came with…? Or was it…?)

Barnaby is hit with a sudden dizzy spell that nearly brings him to his knees. When he forces his eyes back open from an involuntary squeeze shut, Wild Tiger is approaching, hand held out. Barnaby feels another sort of panic run through him-- for one brief moment, he is cetain that Wild Tiger is about to slap him-- but Wild Tiger does no such thing. Rather, he slips one freezing cold arm around Barnaby's waist in support.

"Bunny-chan? Are you sure you're alright?"

Barnaby hides his shamed face in trembling hands and ignores the folks looking over curiously.

"No," he whispers. Why is Wild Tiger so cold? So, so cold--

Wild Tiger steers him over to a bench and together they sit. For a moment, Barnaby watches his own breath roll in the winter air, and Wild Tiger watches Barnaby, simply.

"Something's not right," Barnaby admits. "I keep having these strange flashes of something like memory. But it's almost like I'm remembering a dream, or a story, because I know it's not real. I keep-- ...I keep thinking that I've been here before. With Kotetsu Kaburagi."

Barnaby bows his head, feeling like a child confessing to nightmares of impossible deaths by improbable means. Oh yes, this feels almost exactly like that once when Maverick had been so annoyed to be woken up in the middle of the night because Barnaby, at age seven, had had a terrible nightmare of a beckoning fire.

Barnaby doesn't want to see Wild Tiger's expression-- whether it is disdainful, concerned or-- worse-- if it is stoic, taking this news as casually as he takes most things, less important things. Barnaby doesn't want to know.

"Do you think about him a lot?" Wild Tiger asks, placing his hand on Barnaby's shoulder.

Barnaby breathes in a sharp hiss. He doesn't want-- this isn't how his time alone with Wild Tiger is supposed to go-- He doesn't want Wild Tiger to think--

And suddenly Barnaby thinks that this is the perfect chance, perhaps his only chance. He has Wild Tiger in the perfect position. Barnaby doesn't know if he's ready for this-- he didn't plan it at all-- but he needs something, anything to bring him back to reality--

"I think about him... but not without thinking of you," Barnaby says, quiet and shy. He can't feel his own heartbeat. It must be going too fast.

"Me?" Wild Tiger asks, genuinely surprised. "Why?"

"It was only you that kept me from killing him," Barnaby says in a rush, the images of both Jake Martinez and Kotetsu Kaburagi flickering one after another in his head. No, wait, this is going too fast, slow down, his head says, but his body follows a different order.

"Bunny-chan, I don't get it, what is this all about?" Wild Tiger asks, leaning in, and Barnaby tilts his head just so to watch his lips move. (They are the same lips as-- what the hell is he thinking in a moment like this?)

Doesn't matter. His body moves on its own, any sort of thought be damned. Wild Tiger's lips can't be resisted when they move and part and pucker in words--

Wild Tiger's lips are ice. Cold, solid, unmoving.

He pulls back and finally looks into Wild Tiger's face. He looks unsurprised, lips a firm line and expression stern.

"I-...I'm sorry," Barnaby whispers.

"It's fine," Wild Tiger says lightly.

"I'm going to go home."

"Are you sure? You didn't want to talk?"

Barnaby ignores him in favor of jumping to his feet and practically fleeing. He glances back once to see that Wild Tiger has taken his cellphone in hand and is walking in the opposite direction.

(There is no joy in Sternbild, for Bunny has struck out.)

"Merry Christmas," someone calls.

Barnaby goes home and curls up in bed and hides until he falls asleep. He wakes in fits throughout the night, his twisted imagination replacing failure with success and one man with another.

*

He was right, of course, Barnaby thinks in the morning. He goes through the motions of getting ready for the day rather absently. He’d removed his glasses, even, so that they wouldn’t fog up when he drank his coffee, but now he stares into the mug and sees his dirty reflection without a single drop sipped.

The worst part, probably, is that Uncle Maverick had warned him. Maverick had told him not to pursue Wild Tiger. He’d somehow seen when Barnaby had not, and had tried to look out for Barnaby, and Barnaby, the pig headed fool, had charged on and on. Now this—

He lets Molly take care of Maverick today. He makes the excuse that he has to leave to work early, but as he drives he goes slowly, wondering what kind of excuse he can make so as not to join the other heroes in the gym. He even stops by a breakfast joint and orders a pancake platter through the drive-through. It’s not that he’s hungry, but it makes an excellent excuse even when he looks at his own reflection in the rearview mirror.

He arrives a good thirty minutes late, feeling guilty all the while: first, for avoiding Maverick, second, for being a coward in facing his own partner, and last and least, for being such an idiot that he thought thirty minutes would do him any good. He’d spent them all tearing tiny pancakes apart and staring out the window, mind blank, after all.

He uses the elevator time to think of the proper excuse and his course of action when placed again in Wild Tiger’s presence. Pretend like nothing happened, or take him aside, or…?

But by the time he has made his pitifully weak excuse to the people who have been anxiously awaiting news from him and made his way to the gym, something is off: he looks round the gym carefully twice more, trying to find it.

“Where’s Wild Tiger?” he asks the group at large, sounding even to himself like a lost little boy.

“Oh, look who decided to show up!” Rock Bison pants from atop his treadmill.

“Were you delayed by anything too troublesome?” Sky High asks, not pausing in his bicep curls.

Dragon Warrior finishes her water bottle off. “He’s not with you?”

“…what?” Barnaby asks. He tries to school his expression but can’t stop the arching of his eyebrows.

“We thought he’d be with you,” Origami Cyclone says. Barnaby whirls around to face the younger man, but Origami hardly glances up from where he’s re-lacing his shoes. “We thought maybe you two had gone on after a criminal or something, but there were no reports…”

Blue Rose is the first to actually turn to him, looking a bit concerned. “So he’s not with you? Why were you late then?”

Barnaby flounders, for once lost for words. There’s no way in hell he is going to admit to having been rejected by Tiger last night after a too-bold, too-awkward overture. Fire Emblem, though, damn him, seems to see the uncertainty in his face.

“Oh no, darling, did something happen between you two? You’re such good partners…”

Barnaby swallows around the lump in his throat, turns on his heel, and marches the hell out of the gym. He jabs at the elevator buttons. The worst part is seeing them all staring at him in the few seconds between the closing of the doors.

His first thought is to call Agnes. If anyone knows information, it’s her—but the cell rings and rings and still no answer. He tries again, not really thinking beyond the fact that Wild Tiger is missing. No answer. Then he does the probably more logical thing and calls Wild Tiger himself—no answer. (Well, a nasty thought occurs, he wouldn’t exactly answer you, now would he? – but then he takes a deep breath and makes that thought go away. Wild Tiger isn’t an emotional teenager, and neither is he. They are both grown men and unreciprocated crushes are not enough to destroy years of partnership.)

Barnaby’s just being dramatic.

He calls Agnes again.

“What is it?” her voice suddenly snaps through the phone, and he’s so startled to actually get a hold of her that he doesn’t know what to say for about two seconds.

“I was wondering if you had any news about Wild Tiger, he seems to have not—”

“I don’t have any information about Wild Tiger,” Agnes hisses lowly.

“I’m… sorry, did I do something to offend you?” Barnaby asks sourly, trying to keep the politeness at a professional level.

“No.” She sighs through her nose and it makes a static-full gust against the speakers. Afterwards she is still flat-toned but not so harsh. “Sorry. I’m busy. I don’t know anything about Wild Tiger. I’d heard he had not notified his team, though. What phone are you using?” she asks incredibly suddenly.

Barnaby frowns, completely bewildered, and checks. “My personal.”

“Oh.”

The elevator doors ding open. Barnaby steps out into the lab.

“Which are you using?”

Agnes says nothing for a critical few moments. Barnaby starts feeling distinctly agitated and nervous.

“I’m busy, Barnaby,” she says, and all of a sudden she is her usual self again, professional and confident. “I’ll call you if I hear anything about him. And will you call me?”

“Sure,” Barnaby says slowly. “If you’re not too busy.”

“You heroes are my work, though, after all. Bye-bye.”

She hangs up on him and Barnaby pauses in his movement for a moment, utterly confused. He lowers his phone and stares at the screen where her image slides out of view and a red icon says ‘call ended’. He shakes his head as if trying to remove the strange conversation from his mind and then looks around him. For a moment he is confused, having walked on autopilot during his conversation with Agnes. Then—oh yes, he remembers—he continues on his way to Saito’s lab.

The man is hunched over a laptop in the corner of his deserted office. Whatever program he’s running, into which he is inputting data with a rapid flurry of fingers, is taking up all his attention. He doesn’t seem to hear the thunk of Barnaby’s boots as he draws nearer.

“Mr. Saito,” Barnaby says quietly, stopping a polite distance away. Nevertheless the man jumps nearly out of his skin, grabbing for the lid of his laptop and tilting the screen from view. Saito looks up at Barnaby, face frozen in startled fear, and then he lets out a long breath and melts. He sits up straight in his chair and tilts the lid back up, but still angled so that Barnaby cannot see the screen anymore. He resumes his inputting, eyes flickering between the screen and Barnaby.

“Is there something you wanted, Mr. Brooks?” Saito asks, close to inaudible.

Barnaby feels like shaking the man. First Agnes, and now Saito—he feels less like he’s interacting with his coworkers and more like he’s watching a bizarre movie unfold.

“I was just wondering,” Barnaby says, slow and loud and maybe a bit colored by his irritation, “if you had received any word from Wild Tiger. No one upstairs has.”

Is that sweat beading Saito’s brow? The man’s lips curl into the tiniest of smirks, but overall it seems that Saito has become nervous. Barnaby scowls and leans closer.

“Wild Tiger… is sick,” Saito whispers, eyes now focused entirely on the screen. If possible, his typing only gets faster and harder.

“And why,” Barnaby hisses sweetly, sharply, “would he have told you this and no one else?”

Saito gives a little harrumphing laugh. “Heh heh… Don’t take your anger out on me… I’m not the one you should be angry at.”

Before Barnaby can demand what Saito is on about, though, the speakers suddenly blare with the emergency siren. Barnaby gasps, startled, but Saito nearly falls out of his chair. Then the man laughs again, melting back down into his chair. He seems… relieved, almost, but it doesn’t keep him from his frenzied project. “Better get suited up, Mr. Brooks.”

Barnaby’s wristband lights up with Agnes’ face, expression fierce and gleeful as it used to be in the past. “Bonjour, heroes! We have a powerful Next causing havoc in the city. All hands on deck, people!”

Barnaby whirls around and marches away. He gives one last glare over his shoulder at Saito. The man has finally paused in his work and is staring at Barnaby most peculiarly.

“I’m helping you out here.”

*

It's as he's riding to the scene, suited and alone, that Barnaby feels his world begin again to shift. It's an instinctive thing, like knowing you should look over your shoulder in a dark alleyway, but the brain interferes and your fear keeps you from examining any further the prickling along your neck.

His first thought upon arrival, mirrored and vocalized by Origami Cyclone is— "Lunatic!"

Flaring on the street here and there are small fires of familiar blue and green; flower stalls and newspapers and hats abandoned and burning in the street, but thankfully none of the screams of the civilians running past are caused by pain. Barnaby immediately sets to search for the perpetrator, while above the announcer cries, "But what's this? Such a dangerous power, and yet there are no reports of injured citizens? What is this mysterious NEXT after?"

Barnaby is so focused on trying to find the bright colors of Lunatic's cloak that he looks the girl standing in the middle of the road completely over. For it, he gets a sudden, startling vision-full of fire. His first instinct is to fall back and slap it away from his face before he realizes it isn't getting through the armor. He hears Rock Bison laugh derisively. "She scare you, Barnaby?"

In the following instance, in which Barnaby's field of vision clears and the announcer yells that the perpetrator has been spotted and Rock Bison takes the first steps of a charge at the enemy-- then he makes eye contact with her:

She is a teenager, and she wants to kills him. He can see it in her big, blazing-hot eyes. The blue fire snaking around her body does not burn half so bright as that hateful spite, the glint of bared teeth, the sparkle of angry tears gathering. Her brown hair flies from her forehead, her clothes whip in the gust of activity, her hand, full of fire, reaches for them, and she stands alone in the midst. She makes eye contact only with Barnaby. Wears this expression only for Barnaby. She wants to kill him.

But then the moment breaks and the girl falls back as quickly as possible, dodging the charging Rock Bison by rolling away behind a car. The girl is small and nimble and lucky.

What follows next is nothing short of a battle. Not a criminal chase, but a full on battle, and the only reason the girl holds her ground at all is said luck and a particular viciousness that leaves the heroes startled and wary. She throws her fire wildly, streaks running past like bullets through the air.

“Isn’t this Lunatic’s flame?!” the host asks of no one. “Does this girl have Lunatic’s same abilities? What about her motives?”

The girl lacks Lunatic’s tight control, however. Barnaby is almost convinced she’ll hurt herself at any moment. As Dragon Warrior charges towards her, the girl falls forward, pressing her hands to the concrete. A great wall of flame springs up and Dragon Warrior leaps away at the last moment, sharp eyes looking for an opening. The girl scrambles back up, hands skinned and jeaned knees dirty. Like a scared animal she whips her head, looking for the next challenger, and finds it in Origami Cyclone, who sends his shuriken flying; she sends them back with a wild arm movement and a blast of fire, and Origami flies back to take cover as well.

The girl’s sleeves flap in the wind, tattered and burnt. She breathes heavily, great clouds of crystallized winter air forming in front of her face.

“Oh no! Dragon Warrior and Origami Cyclone have fallen back! But the criminal is not even trying to run away! What is her aim? Ah—now it’s fire versus fire!”

Blue flame meets red in the air. Fire Emblem growls with his fierce effort; the girl gnashes her teeth—at last the girl’s fire rips right through Fire Emblem’s, striking him square in the chest and causing him to fall over backward. The girl stumbles, seemingly tired. Fire Emblem drags himself up only to crawl out of her line of sight, cussing all the while.

She is not as threatening as Lunatic, Barnaby thinks, but he almost always has Wild Tiger with him. For now Barnaby hangs back, taking in information with his visor. The best plan would be to attack her simultaneously, as it seems to take all of her power and concentration to take on one opponent. (She is not used to fighting. Not used to crime.) His eyes find Blue Rose, Sky High, Rock Bison, Dragon Warrior.

Scratch Dragon Warrior—she tries again to approach, and again is blocked last second by a wall of flame.

Scratch Rock Bison, too. As he charges at her again, she sees him coming from afar, and lobs her fire—unlike Lunatic’s arrows and more like one throws a ball across a field—at the vehicle nearest him. It promptly explodes, the force sending Rock Bison flying. The girl squeals, apparently not anticipating the force herself, and falls to the ground.

“She’s mine!” Blue Rose yells.

“Hold on— ” Barnaby starts to yell, wanting to coordinate with her a bit more—the host yells in excitement, something about winter being the greatest season to catch Blue Rose heroics—

The already icy, slush-full road rears up, solidifying around the girl’s limbs as she tries to push herself up.

“Oh! Has an arrest been made?” the host yells, but it turns to be premature: the girl needs only to summon the fire to her hands and the ice cracks.

Barnaby takes his chance at that moment. He is certain that Blue Rose will yell at him for the point-steal later.

He activates his power and throws himself forward, running full speed. Half-way there, the girl rips out her arms. A quarter of the way there, the girl has one hand unfreezing her legs and the other throwing fire in Blue Rose’s direction—Barnaby doesn’t see what becomes of Blue Rose, but he does hear a high-pitched yelp.

He reaches out his arm, intent on grabbing her and wrestling her to the ground.

His hand brushes her shoe—she has propelled herself in exactly Lunatic’s own fashion, using streams of the strange fire to launch herself off the ground and into the air. Then his fist closes on nothing and a loud crack behind him means that she has met ground again, probably painfully.

Barnaby tries to skid to a stop, but his heels slide on the remnants of Blue Rose’s ice. As he twists his body to face her, as his knee meets the ground and his leg flies out from under him, he catches sight of her face, twisted again in rage. The moment seems to stretch on forever, but honestly it can’t be more than a single second—but that face, skinned and bloodied from her falls and frightening in her earnest wrath, lingers. Barnaby is going to—

“Stop, this instant! I say, cease!”

“Now Sky High makes his move! He’s got her!”

Barnaby finds his feet again, using the strength in his legs to crush the ice below him and find traction. He is saved, he thinks, and then immediately feels an intense shame. Sky High had moved in time with Barnaby and Blue Rose: while the girl focused on Barnaby, Sky High had come from behind and seized her wrists, using his superior strength to force her palms away from where previously they had been aimed right at Barnaby.

The girl is too small to fight back—she struggles viciously, growling nonsensically and kicking and twisting in his hold. Barnaby expects her to at least try to burn the nearby surroundings and so prepares to leap out of the way if necessary—but the girl’s fire seems all gone.

She looks Barnaby in the facemask one last time then goes eerily still. The Next aura has faded from her. Her eyes are a large, charming brown.

“Good!” Sky High chimed. “That is enough of your recklessness. You are now under arrest.”

“No,” the girl says, her first word this entire time. She twists her head to stare insolently up at Sky High’s helmet.

“…ah? No? I do not believe you have a choice in the matter,” Sky High says, floundering for only a moment.

The girl’s jaw works furiously. She seems to want to express some of the anger within her—but all she comes up with is, again, “No!”

But this time as she yells a fierce and sudden whirlwind emanates from her, so strong that Barnaby feels himself being pushed back and even Sky High chokes on a surprised yell.

One moment they are there in the middle of the gale, the girl and Sky High—

—in the next, they are gone. Barnaby gasps and cranes his head, searching frantically in the Sky, and sure enough there they are: except Sky High has let go of her wrists in his surprise and plummets to the ground. He catches himself with his wind long before he hits the ground, but all the heroes pause for a moment, catching their breath and staring in awe at the girl hovering in the sky.

Even the host stumbles in his delivery. “…d-does the criminal have two powers? A-ah! The criminal has two powers!”

“What the hell? That’s Sky High’s wind power, now!” Rock Bison yells.

The heroes as a whole regroup, each figuring their next move: Barnaby is preparing for a leap onto the rooftop nearest the girl when the communication link in his helmet opens.

“Hey, heroes, wait!”

Barnaby stumbles on his missed jump, but when he straightens he is tense all over. That is Mario’s voice, not—

“Where’s Agnes?” he demands. It is only now that he realizes she has been unusually silent for the entire broadcast.

“I’ll fill you in later,” the director cuts in hastily. “Right now, I need—Fire Emblem, Blue Rose, er—someone else—Dragon Warrior! I need you to head to Abas Prison right away!”

“What? What’s happening there?” he hears Blue Rose ask sharply.

“There’s a break in,” the director says seriously, speaking quickly. “Lunatic—the real one—has appeared.”

Above their heads the host of the show starts rattling off this information as well, and Barnaby’s mind goes blissfully blank. “I’m going,” he says. He can’t judge his own voice right now. Can’t judge.

“Barnaby, no, you stay and take on the girl—you’ve already activated your power, you won’t last till—”

“I’m going,” Barnaby says. His throat feels raw. Someone yells at him a heads-up. He barely dodges the slicing wind the girl is sending towards him, trying to keep him in place.

“Hey, Barnaby, come on, man!” Mario insists, to which Barnaby pays no heed. He uses his dodging of the wind to retreat towards his bike.

“Do not worry, comrades!” Sky High says loudly. “I will take care of this troublemaker!” And he counters her winds with his own, effectively covering for Barnaby. Without time for thanks, Barnaby straddles his bike and rides away from the scene. He can hear the girl screaming behind him, a drawn out, “Noooo!”

He looks back over his shoulder only once to see the girl having an intense air battle with Sky High. Behind him Blue Rose rides her own bike and Dragon Warrior hitches a ride atop Fire Emblem’s car.

*

“Mario, now will you tell us what’s going on?” Barnaby finds the presence of mind to ask when he is a suitable distance from the disturbance. The heroes swerve traffic at top speed. “Something’s going on with Agnes, right?”

Mario cusses in their ears. It seems he’s trying to do too many things at once. “Agnes has disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Dragon Warrior asks, startled. “What do you mean?”

They hear Mario addressing some other worker, scrambling as he is to fill both his own job and Agnes’, before he returns to them. “I don’t know, alright! Things are crazy here! People are getting arrested, disappearing, I don’t know! Just—break the speeding laws like nuts, okay? Wrap this up! I can’t believe we’re still filming…”

Before Mario closes the communication, they can hear someone giving him orders and him floundering and flabbergasted. “We’re not going to film after all? I—ah, go on, Heroes! I’ll contact you later!”

“Mario? Hey, Mario—”

The communication link ends. The heroes are silent the rest of the way to the prison.

*

The scene upon arrival seems to be chaos. Barnaby nearly flings himself from the motorcycle and, having gone faster than the others, charges in first. The gate of the prison is not open, but the surrounding walls are melted. Barnaby jumps through the holes that Lunatic used to enter, noticing the watchtowers are all on fire. There are guards and police officers about, some fleeing and some rushing in. Barnaby runs faster than them all, powers be damned. Behind him Blue Rose arrives and demands known casualties, to which a man replies that there are no reports as of yet of any guards sustaining more than minor injuries, and no reports at all of prisoners.

Going further into the prison is like descending into hell itself. The demons are these convicts, howling and throwing themselves against their cages. In the first circles are the least sinful, and while angered and frightened they press against their bars without struggle and shout or just watch. Further down the rows, then, and through another wall: the steel yawns open, melted and twisted edges dripping down, still hot, like the fangs of a beast’s mouth. Now in the second circle, and on and on: now the demons throw themselves against the cell walls, frightened behind the rows of blue fire flaring in front of their cages. Some cower in corners, licking their wounds but very much alive. Further down and further down: until the most sinful, the murderers and the rapists all burn in their cells, charred corpses or men screaming.

Barnaby sweats in his suit. He hurtles towards that finish line, towards the inexplicable knowing he has of Lunatic’s actions today. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do when he gets to Lunatic. He doesn’t know what has waylaid the other heroes, why they do not follow him now. But he knows that his yearning heart, present all of his life, wants an answer to the deep mysteries plaguing him. He wants to know what would cause a man to destroy another’s life. He wants to lift the veil, dispel the darkness. He wants to find Kotetsu Kaburagi and settle the nightmares and the blurring memories and the deep-seated, irascible feeling of guilt and loss. Barnaby wants to find what will be his new, solid truth.

Lunatic’s back is turned to him. They are engulfed on all sides by fire. The metal of the stairs above creak and snap in the heat. Barnaby knows that Kotetsu Kaburagi is just there: behind that solid metal door at the end of the hall, that place which Lunatic now faces. His heart beats fast, too fast; his breath hurts in his lungs. His brain is struggling with the oppressive, sickening waves of heat.

Then before them both a figure walks from the fire, unfazed, straight-backed, menacing: it is Wild Tiger. Barnaby feels joy for only a very small moment before the sick and terror take over:

Wild Tiger walks forward, unstoppable, but his hair burns like a fuse and his clothes slowly catch.

The fire peels away his skin.

Underneath is metal. Underneath are wicked, wrought, false teeth and a ball where the eye should be. Underneath is a solid column where should be a throat. Underneath is something different.

*

It changes.

Wild Tiger walks through the fire. His skin stays whole.

*

It changes.

Wild Tiger walks through the fire. It cannot penetrate his powered suit.

*

Metal buckles and snaps and breaks. Something above Barnaby’s head gives in and caves. It lands on top of Barnaby, crushing him—he feels himself finally lose consciousness with a bitter disappointment that all of his efforts have not lifted that veil, have only blown out what flickering light he had left. Well, then. If his answers—nay, if Kotetsu Kaburagi will not be found in the light of goodness, then Barnaby will go to where he can be found:

in darkness only.

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPad.

Comments

[sanskerta.livejournal.com]

what is this cliffhangerrrrr?????? *crazy*

i've been waiting for this fic update. i forgot when and where did i first read this fic, but i still remember the content, and it has been bugging me how it would flow?

good job working on these, dear writer. pardon my weird language still too excited...

[rex-sun.livejournal.com]

Ha ha! I am sorry for the wait. Thank you for remembering the fic fondly. It makes me sorta happy to see that it stuck with some people even though I didn't finish it all those months ago.

And I'm sorry to leave you with a cliffhanger! I hope the next chapter is satisfying!

[indou.livejournal.com]

I can't tell you how happy I am to see you continue this fic! It's been on my list of favorites since it first showed up on the meme, and I've been keeping hope alive in my "bookmarks to regularly check up on" ever since :)

I love your characterizations, especially of Maverick and "Wild Tiger." You've done a great job of making him seem /off/ by just the right amount... Looking forward to seeing more of Kaede and Lunatic, and of course I am filled with trepidation regarding what's happened to Kotetsu. You write very good drama and some killer cliffhangers!

[rex-sun.livejournal.com]

Thank you! Lol, so flattering!

I appreciate your note on characterizations-- I was wondering how well they were working. (Personally I think I may rewrite Agnes, and just a bit of Wild Tiger, but...)

Kaede will reappear in the final chapter, and... I can't say there's more Lunatic, exactly, but.

There's more Yuri, certainly. :P

[/me being the ultimate tease]


Ha ha, thanks for your support!

[indou.livejournal.com]

Hah. I won't say no to more Yuri. Yuri makes any fic more delicious. Tease away, ex-anon, you know I'm lovin' it.

[cersseilyne.livejournal.com]

I have been following this fic religiously since November, so I have to pitch in with "Write, man, write like the wind!" I love the way you have the plot move and I think you really have something awesome going on here! Waiting for the next update with bated breath!

[rex-sun.livejournal.com]

Thanks for the support! Unfortunately I posess no sense of focus, and so I forgot about and had to start working on a fic deadline... But this is on my most immediate to-do list because I can practically taste the ending. [/general fail, lo siento]