Chapter 8: Nothing to see here. Seriously, nothing.

Brockton Bay, NH, USA

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Type: None

The clock struck twelve as I lay in bed, waiting for the customary click. My aura twisted and churned like liquid mercury. It reached out and… slipped.

The sensation was impossible to fully capture with words, but it was akin to walking, only to run out of road. You expect the sidewalk to be there, except… it suddenly wasn't.

"What?" I muttered. I dove deep inside my own soul, trying to figure out what was happening. I could feel the warmth of a tiny candle like a vigil preceding a funeral. Litwick. Yes, I still had that form. It was nearer to me than others for some reason. "At least I have you…"

"Hmm? You say something?" Marcus said from the top bunk.

"Nothing, man. Sorry to wake you."

"Yeah, all good, bro. You've been busy lately."

"Would you believe me if I said I have a school project?"

He snorted. "Dude, Arcadia's vocational. You get out at like one. Everyone knows that. Why would you be out 'til near midnight every night?"

"Point."

"It's cool, just know Mrs. Wells is going to ride your ass if you keep doing that. You know how she gets."

"Yeah, 'one shared meal as a family,'" I repeated her mantra.

I heard shuffling above and his head peeked down at me. "Seriously, Blake, you need me to cover for you?"

I considered it. It seemed like I wouldn't have any pokemon to swap into save litwick. I felt naked like this. Vulnerable. I wouldn't be doing anything risky today. "No, not today. I'll be here."

"Oh, good, 'cause I had no fucking clue what I was going to tell her," he said with a lopsided grin.

"That I started seeing a chick but we turned out to be related and I'm getting over the heartbreak."

"Man, fuck off with that drama shit."

"What? I thought that's what you're into. Isn't that the plot of every Korean drama these days?"

"Fuck you, asshole! I'm Taiwanese!"

"Yeah, yeah. And thanks for offering, Marcus. You're a cool friend."

"Yeah, fuck you anyway now let me go to sleep."

"Night, dick."

"Night, fuckhead."

X

My schedule on Tuesday covered PE and physics for an hour and a half each, so I decided to take it easy. I woke up extra early so I could take a leisurely walk to school instead of a harried jog. That it let me avoid Mrs. Wells and Derek, the resident Merchant, was just a bonus.

PE went predictably. Coach Mooton had us running laps as soon as we stepped onto the track. To my shame, even with aura, I came in eighth out of sixty-two. I got a bit of stamina, but it still wasn't anything compared to athletes who'd been doing this since middle school. Not to mention, I just wasn't very fast.

"Good hustle, Isley," I heard some kid say as he slapped my back, dodging around me to get to the drinking fountain.

I mumbled something barely intelligible even to my ears and shuffled off towards the shower.

After that, the rest of my day passed in a hazy blur. Physics was wonky as always. I came from a world where teleportation pads, dimensional storage, and digitization of matter, were all easily accessible, but just because I knew that these things were all possible didn't mean I understood them myself.

Physics sucked. The class just made me wish I could learn more interesting applications. And then it reminded me that I was fucking stupid and wasted the opportunity to learn said interesting applications in my past life.

Regrets…

X

Lunch came and I was faced with a quandary. Amy now knew who I was. I was early enough that I could grab my food and sneak off somewhere else. Dean wasn't in my physics class so he wasn't around to force me to socialize.

Question was, did I want to?

I looked at my chicken tenders and apple sticks, then at our usual table. The door looked mighty tempting, but… but if I didn't show, Amy might think I was avoiding her.

"Well… This should be an interesting lunch," I muttered as I took my seat and waited for the crowd.

The first to arrive were two girls from Vicky's court. We'd said perhaps four sentences to each other. I was pretty sure their names were… Claire…? Britney…?

"Hey," I tried being friendly. "How's it going?"

The one I thought was Claire gave me the fakest smile I'd ever seen. "Hi."

And that was it. That was the whole conversation, bringing our total number of sentences exchanged to a grand total of… five.

The three of us sat around awkwardly until Dean and Victoria showed, Amy trailing not far behind.

"Oh, thank god," maybe-Britney muttered under her breath. I tried not to take offense, but that kinda stung.

"Hey, Chelsea, Briana," Vicky called.

"Oh, so that's their names…" I said quietly. Not quiet enough because Chelsea? or maybe Briana? gave me a heated glare.

I did my best to ignore them and motioned for Amy to save me. She must have seen the desperation in my eyes because she sighed and placed herself between me and the girls. Vicky sat to Amy's other side while Dean sat next to her.

I fucking hated teenage drama so much…

Amy met my eyes as she sat down, giving me a knowing smirk. "You owe me," she mouthed.

I did what came naturally and flipped her off.

"Sup," I began.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

"Hey."

We… had nothing to say. Menagerie and Panacea were friends. Blake and Amy? Not so much. If anything, I was pretty sure she didn't like me much until I took off my helmet.

For whatever reason, she and Dean didn't get along. As one of his few male friends, some of that dislike rubbed off onto me by association.

It wasn't quite as awkward as with the hanger-ons, but I wasn't sure what I could say. For lack of anything else to say, I stuck with the basics. "So… How was your weekend?"

She shrugged, every part of her being radiating apathy. "It was so-so. Went shopping with Vicky on Saturday. healed a bunch on Sunday so I was busy when Menagerie moved the tanker. How do you think he did it?"

I looked at her in askance. Was she… trying to find out about the forms I had? Or was she just messing with me? I didn't know what to do, so I stuck to a tried and true tactic enshrined in our orphanage: Baffle them with bullshit.

"Ehh, who knows? He might have gotten Toybox to put it in a pocket dimension or something. Why? It's a good thing it's gone, right?"

Vicky cut in. "It is, but mom chewed him out last night when he dropped Ames off. We might be looking at a gang war because a bunch of useless real estate just became a great investment."

"That's awful," Chelsea or Briana said. "Do you think he works for a gang?"

"Yeah, totally," I said, rolling my eyes. "He's definitely Empire, watch. He moved that tanker so the PRT will be forced to patrol the Graveyard. And you know who owned the graveyard until now? ABB and Merchants."

"You think he's pitting the heroes against the other gangs because he's a Nazi?"

"Definitely. I mean, what else could he be? Since when does anyone do anything for free?"

I winced as I felt Amy's sharp elbow dig into my ribs. "I do, you dick. People can do nice things, you know. Besides, I saw Menagerie heal plenty of minorities last night."

"Yeah, I've met him. I don't think he's a secret Nazi or anything," her sister chimed in. She then popped her knuckles loudly. "Although, I might have to give him the shovel talk if he keeps spending time with my sister."

I nudged the brunette back, eyebrows waggling. "Ooh, something you want to tell us, Panpa?"

"He's a friend. I know that might be a novel concept to you, but they exist," she ground back.

"Oof, oww. Prickly as ever. What would that ship even be called? Panagerie? Menacea?"

"I. Will. Hurt. You."

Watching her flush with embarrassment and impotent rage did much to put a balm over my injured ribs. The table devolved into inane rumors surrounding the two "healer couple" despite Amy's vehement denials. I didn't think you could blush hard enough to change the color of freckles, but Amy proved me wrong.

Throughout the discussion, I kept sending her smug glances, only matched by her heated glares that promised swift vengeance.

Would I regret this in the future? Very likely.

Did I care at the moment? No.

X

After lunch, I ducked somewhere private and called up Sabah. I did promise to give her forewarning after all. She picked up in two rings.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Sabah?"

"Yes? Can I help you?"

"This is Menagerie. How are you?"

"Oh, oh my god thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

That took me aback. "Umm…"

"My dad was discharged last night and he said that a blue werewolf healed him. That was you, right?"

"It was. Hey, I was hoping you had a chance to talk."

"About the costume? Of course! I've been meaning to speak with you as well."

"Ah, that's great. Can I drop by in half an hour?"

"Yes, I'll be in Wyatt 212."

"Isn't 203 your workshop?"

She huffed. "It was. I had to move all the materials because people kept asking if they could get some of it as a keepsafe."

That had me concerned. "Are you okay? Has anyone-"

"No, no one's threatened me or anything, but I was worried someone would sneak into the workshop so I moved it all."

"Okay, I'll be by in half an hour," I promised before hanging up.

X

Sabah waited for me outside Wyatt. By now, my orange helmet was pretty famous and the two of us drew some attention before she hurriedly shuffled me inside. Once in her new workshop, she gave me a hug.

"Thank you," she whispered into my chest.

"Hey, none of that," I said gently. "I would have done it for free. I'm a hero; it's kind of my job."

"So you're saying I should charge you for the costume?"

I froze. "Umm… I have a few grand? Not bespoke suit money, but…"

"I'm joking. I wouldn't do that to you. And I wouldn't have charged more than a grand anyway. This stuff is a wonder to work with. I mean, this silk. It's just… Wow. I have so many ideas..."

"Thanks, I barfed it up."

"Aaand I didn't need to hear that."

"You know where silk comes from on a normal silkworm, right?"

"Ugh, you are such a boy."

"Alright, fine. Joking over. I wanted to talk to you about this," I said, pulling out the business card Carol gave me. "I met Brandish last night. She offered me the contact information of New Wave's tailor."

She shuffled her feet nervously. "Oh… Oh… I guess… I'll give you back all the stuff…"

"If you want to."

"What?"

"Brandish gave me this because she thought I might be putting you in danger. When I moved the tanker, I proved to the city that I was powerful enough or resourceful enough to do something that almost every faction has attempted at one point or another. I did it. In a single evening. That's a lot of publicity."

"And you think people might target me since you're so elusive."

"Yeah. I've intentionally not been keeping to a pattern. New Wave and a bunch of indie heroes are patrolling the Graveyard to make sure no gang starts a shootout over the territory since it's worth something again."

"And you're here," she whispered. "For me…"

"I was always going to be here," I reassured her. "In the first place, randomly patrolling isn't my style."

"No. Getting the Boardwalk enforcers to try to club a baby seal on camera is," she smiled weakly.

"Heh. Yeah, that was fun."

"So what now?"

"You tell me. Do you want this job?"

"You're not taking it from me?"

"A deal is a deal. And besides, from the notebook you showed me, I honestly like what I saw."

"Well… Have I ever told you why I accepted?"

"Something about race and representation. I remember."

"Yes. That. I think that if I want to be a big name in fashion, I need to take some risks. And… And you healed my da-"

I placed a finger over her lips. "No. Not that. You can make your decision based on whatever else you want, but not that. Hearing you say that makes me feel skeevy as fuck, like I'm holding your dad over your head so you owe me something. That isn't how I do things. Not then. Not now."

"Then?"

"Ah… Don't worry about it."

"Fine, but… I think I still want to do this. Will you let me? I have so many ideas."

I placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "Yes. I like your work and I want you to make my costume. If you're willing to risk it, I'm willing to let you try."

She gave me another hug. "I… Thank you for believing in me."

"If anything, I should be apologizing to you for endangering you."

"Hehehe, we'll just fall in an endless spiral of sorrys at this rate. I want this. You want my work. Can we settle for that?"

"Yeah, that's fair. So, Sabah, keep that phone close, yeah? And be safe. If you even suspect that you're in danger, call me."

"Is a big bad dino going to come to my rescue?" she teased, though there was an undercurrent of seriousness here.

I thought about all the different forms I could use. As much as I loved Regis, he was far from the most powerful. "They'll be lucky if they only see a tyrantrum."

"Your monster names are weird."

"Don't ask," I grumbled.

"Yeah, yeah. I've been working on a few designs. I should be ready in three days. Can you show up for measurements on Friday?"

"That works."

X

I made dinner at the Egg House as promised. As I ate, I couldn't help but think back to the promise I made to Sabah. The heart was willing, but… could I follow through on my words?

'It's been a long time since I last felt this helpless…'

It gave me the incentive to try harder. I managed a small breakthrough the last time I tried to meditate on aura. Introspection was never my thing, but… but there were people who were counting on me now…

I headed into my room and settled in to meditate.

I sat on my bed, legs crossed and mind turned inward. My aura was still here. Despite my lack of connection to a type, I could feel the presence of litwick. That meant my aura didn't magically disappear.

No. In the first place, such a thing was impossible. I had a soul, therefore I had aura. Arceus willed it so. It was merely that the connection was temporarily severed, one half of a bridge waiting for the bond.

I strained, pushing against this impossibly heavy gear to get it to budge. I felt like Sisyphus pushing boulders uphill. I strained and strained and achieved nothing in the first two hours.

Then, before I was about to turn in for bed, I broke through. It was a desperate attempt made out of fear of my own helplessness, but it was enough.

Sabah. Emily. I refused to let them down.

I'd seen some of the anime Marcus watched. Derek liked to make fun of it, the so-called Power of Friendship that all these protagonists seemed to have. Hell, the little ones here liked to watch Protectorate Pals, where Legend, Alexandria, and Eidolon saved the world with some cameo hero of the day.

As cringey as it was, I knew better. The Power of Friendship was real, real enough that Oak spent his life studying the phenomenon.

So when I broke through out of concern for others, it hardly caught me by surprise. Six minutes of guaranteed transformation wasn't long, but it would be enough. I'd make sure of it.

"Bonds… huh…?"

Author's Note

Thank you for reading. To reach a wider audience, and because I enjoy a more forum-like setup to facilitate discussion, I like to crosspost to a wide variety of websites. You can find them all on my Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/fabled.webs.