Summary: Clarity is in to do a mural. Batman is dead set to keeping his private past, private. Now if only his two hostages would quit breaking into the Batcave.
The Dark Knight and the Tomboy Blunder
Chapter 1: Bat Suit Boy
It was the first time in my life that I ever traveled alone in a long, long time. Gotham city was not what I expected for a city. Its good neighborhoods meshed in with the bad as far as crime was concerned. Its history, unexpectedly rich and colorful, with its most recent historical figures looking like upchuck from a cosplay convention. All those brightly colored useless outfits looked like an eyesore on Gotham's Grayish, New York City Like backdrop. I mean, c'mon, the last time I saw someone dress ridiculous was at that one convention when someone decided it'd be wonderful to wear Hanes Briefs over the top of his pants. Laugh while you still can, it's not like I knew I was going to be kidnapped by a bunch of nut jobs in one trip or the fact that, like usual, someone got dragged with me.
Iruka Umino was at the corner of 7th Street when I happened to walk by 8th Street with a bag of groceries in hand. Usually it's easy to spot him, I mean average build for where he comes from, tanned skin, flack jacket, brunette ponytail and a scar across his nose just like that one guy chasing the big burly dude in a cowl. WAIT A MINUTE! I did a double take. I heard Iruka's irate voice boom all over the city.
"YOU COME BACK HERE WITH MY HITAI-ATE!" Iruka roared in his native tongue of the Land of Fire, "THIS IS YOUR LAST . . . WARNING!"
I felt my heart just stop beating. What is he, of all people, doing in a civilian Metropolis? Last I remembered, he was a school teacher, of a ninja Academy no less. He's the kind of guy that does office work and Ninja life skills 101. Not the kind of person I'd see running wild down the street waving a European Claymore. Then again, screaming his lungs off, is something I've already seen 3,465 times already this past year and tonight would make 3,466.
From what my client so graciously told me, if there was a man in a Bat suit; just make sure to stay 300 yards away so he can go about his work. What do I do? Help a stranger running around in a unitard or help my friend? I run after the two of course there had to be a reason why a ninja school teacher would shout obscenities and wield a big sword that was supposed to be too heavy for him. I chased him down the back alleys. Iruka panting, kept getting slower and slower with every swing.
"Iruka, Iruka!" I yelled, Iruka jumped slightly but not enough to not drop that sword and start panting, "Yo Iruka! How you been? I haven't seen you in-"
ZING
WHAM
THUNK
Iruka just threw a 15th century blade and bashed in the head of a 21st century . . . What could I call the guy? Dude? Dudette? The whooped man in a bat suit? Bat Suit Boy fell to the ground in a heap. A twenty meter drop never sounded so icky. Iruka straightened up as if he never killed a guy in his life. He stretched making several bones pop in relief. He turned to me and sauntered back like a cat who ate the early bird.
"Iruka . . . What did you just do!" I cried, normally it's me who does the stupid stuff and him doing the yelling; not the other way around.
"Oh . . . Who me?" Iruka innocently asked, his brown eyed face taking on the innocent look so many kids gave him when they said the Inuzukas ate their homework, "Well I'm on vacation! I knew you were going to the area with the most unusual Crime Rate so I bribed Hokage-sama with Mike's Hard Lemonade and challenged her to a game of poker. If I won, the Hokage granted me leave. If she won I did her paperwork for the next . . . Hmm . . . Thirty years. It's a good thing she's the legendary sucker."
"Iruka," I gasped my face falling to my hand, "Iruka, Iruka, Iruka, why! Why would you go chasing after Bat Suit Boy with a stolen weapon?"
"Oh," Iruka chuckled whole heartedly, don't get me wrong he's actually a very bright guy. It's just that Ninjas and big cities that aren't used to fights breaking out or "Sparring" as my ninja pals call it don't mix, at least not well. "I thought the curator said I could use it. They don't make good quality weapons here in Gotham. What's the use of saying "Come out with your hands up" when you hide behind a car door pointing a . . . now what did you-oh yeah! Pointing a .45 semi-automatic weapon."
"It's a gun Iruka, a pistol, semi-automatic weapons are used by the thugs on this street." I explained wearily, I could see it in my head now. Iruka broke into a museum, stole an ancient artifact and proceeded to run after Bat Suit Boy for stealing his favorite piece of head gear.
"Alright alright, look you aren't supposed to go and . . ." I started hands mildly flailing. Iruka leaned in closer. I punched him in the face. "GOOD GRIEF ALMIGHTY! IRUKA! HOW DUMB CAN YOU GET? YOU JUST BECAME A WANTED MAN IN A CITY OF AT LEAST 8 MILLION CIVILIANS! HALF OF THEM COPPERS YOU . . . YOU . . . IDIOT! THIS IS THE KIND OF STUFF YOU YELL AT NARUTO FOR!"
"Wait a second, I need to get my Hitai-ate!" Iruka chattered and dashed away, leaving me . . . Fuming. Oh well, so much for being sensible. I often forget Iruka's at least a few years older than me, well, actually I forget a lot of people's ages. It doesn't help when one of the closest things I've had to a drinking buddy (she drinks, I don't) lately is a fifty-three year old woman who drinks, gambles, and once told me Alcoholics Anonymous is for old suckers. She tells me this in the same guise that keeps her looking in her early twenties.
I took off my cardigan and ran to wrap up the sword. It was three feet away from Bat Suit Boy. Darn thing was heavier than it looked when I went to lift it. I was about to wrap that William Wallace Blade as carefully as I could when Bat Suit Boy caught my eye. He stood pretty tall, handsome if you like the whole strong jaw line thing, and was bleeding in the middle of the road. Iruka got to all the compartments on Bat Suit Boy's belt and since none of them were labeled he opened every single one.
Wahoo, so many toys, at least to Iruka's eyes they looked dandy. I don't know why ninja's liked the whole hidden weapons bit but Bat Suit Boy had enough bat shaped boomerangs, grappling hooks, car keys, hand cuffs, yadda-yadda, cell phone, and communicator thingies to supply a small country or in Iruka's case, his pockets. The only thing he took instead of all those fancy gadgets was a worthless bat-shaped pen, you know, the kind Trick-or-Treaters get, and a pad of black sticky notes. What was up with Bat-suit Boy and all the black?
"Ahhh, here it is." Iruka sighed happily, pulling out a blue bandanna like headband with the leaf engraved metal plate in the middle. He tied it on to his forehead and noticed the blood trail. With a huff he brought Bat Suit Boy up into a kneeling position. Dude was out cold, his head sagged of its own accord. There was nothing left to lean him on. I offered my back as Iruka ripped up Bat Suit Boy's cape for some impromptu head wrapping.
"It's not much," Iruka mused tempted to lift that cowl to see the rest of his face, "But that's what he gets for stealing from a ninja."
I plucked each gadget one by one, that Iruka hadn't swiped already (ninja thing), and placed them back into the belt. The materials looked expensive. Lots of them imported goods. Hey, I'm just a starving artist who runs a gift shop. Even I know expensive materials when I see it.
"Wow! I think Bat Suit Boy put on a little weight." Iruka heaved, I cocked an eyebrow. The same guy who turned a fifty pound longsword into a fastball couldn't lift a grown man? He was running low on Chakra and I was not going to just stand around and allow a trained killer loose on Gotham City. No matter how friendly he is.
"Hold on, how about I use this thing," I stated pulling out my own cell phone. I dialed my Client's number.
"Who are you calling?"
"Commissioner Gordon," I deadpanned and went back to dialing. I could've swore I heard the alarm bells going off in his head.
"The cops!" Iruka freaked, "But like you said I'm a wanted man! Wanted men don't go to get arrested."
"They don't call," I agreed, "But I do. I'll do the talking and make sure you're not stuck in Stonegate Prison. Eithier that or I call the Hokage. I'm certain she'll be laughing her head off about you clocking Bat Suit Boy in the head."
Iruka folded his arms and huffed, "Yeah . . . So . . . That's what he gets for stealing from a ninja. I've done the same thing to Kakashi once or twice back home and it's perfectly legal to-"
SQUELCH
I threw a tomato at Iruka. The squishy thing hit him dead in the nose. He glowered at me. Tomato juice pouring down his lips and dripping off his chin. He didn't say another word.
"Yeah-yeah," I jibed, "It's legal to throw stuff at people. It does not mean you can kill him! Luckily, there weren't a lot of witnesses and I can at least sweet talk the authorities into calling this a "mishap.""
"It wasn't a mishap." Iruka corrected, "I was just killing him so he's not a threat to this village."
"City," I interjected.
"Whatever."
I made the call. Commissioner Gordon went to panicking saying, "I can't believe it! Hey Barbara, you're not going to believe this but Batman got hit with a sword."
The sound of broken glass. Gordon must've been talking to his teenage daughter. Otherwise, the gasp wouldn't have been so high pitched.
"Is he-" they both started to ask.
"Fine?" I finished knowing this would not end well, "Yes Bat Suit Boy is fine even though he is bleeding severely and his assailant, a foreigner named Iruka, only decked him because Batman ran off with his girly headband. I mean seriously, it was all just a cultural misunderstanding."
Iruka glared, pointedly. He did not know what language I was speaking. He knows the sound of his name spoken in English. He hates my tone of voice right now. The only thing that saved me from getting my throat slit was he didn't understand a word of what I was saying. Lucky me, I'm on a ninja school teacher's hit list.
"Well, Clarity Cratchet, it's a good thing you're not walking home alone after dark." Gordon lectured which got me kind of sweating, I was already walking home alone before Iruka showed up, "I'm getting a cop car over to pick you three up myself. Your hotel room's safe but oh, you forgot your bag at my office, the one with all your art stuff. Bring Batman with you but stay . . . In . . . the shadows. If word gets out someone bested the Batman over a tiny little thing. I can assure you that people will come bashing down the doors. We'll put Iruka in a holding cell for the night. Ignorance does not mean he's going to get off easy Clarity, that's the way the ball bounces."
"Alright Commissioner Gordon, uh-huh bye." I replied, heaved a sigh of relief and turned to Iruka, "Okay, I got everything squared away, at least I made sure you didn't have a permanent criminal record."