Miracle Worker
Ban loathes Ginji's fashion sense.
He is the first to admit that their financial circumstances, which are iffy at best, don't exactly keep them in Armani. Still, those blasted shorts and that horrendously green jacket scream and plead to the artist in him, and he can't help but imagine a better set of clothing on Ginji occasionally; something deep blue, to set off his hair and almost glowing skin; full-sleeved, because it makes him look older and more vulnerable, distant and beautiful, regal and deadly.
When he wants to, Ginji can dominate a room better than anyone Ban knows.
But he never insists, tries not to even think it too hard, because the childish clothing keeps Ginji grounded, gives him a taste of the childhood he never had, walls off that presence within him that wields ultimate power. It's why Ginji never wears anything like that if he can possibly help it; he has Had Enough of being too old for his age, has learnt to fear maturity and embrace the security blanket of childishness. Perhaps it will be unnecessary one day, but he needs the reassurance now, and Ban does not grudge him that.
He doesn't grudge him the food fights, the fan-waving, the absolute lack of basic knowledge, the comparisons of the Statue of Liberty to the Venus de Milo, the inability to understand a simple thing like left and then right – (not that way, Ginji, left, left, what d'you mean you don't know left, it's the hand you don't use to write with, damn it, how stupid can you get?!) – or even the way he likes everybody. That is Ginji, his Ginji, the one who puts the 'S' back in the Get Backers no matter how many times Ban swears at him, knocks him on the head or makes some biting remark or the other.
He can tolerate it very easily when he remembers why Ginji doesn't know things he grew up with, because he never left the walls of his little domain until Ban came along and turned his life upside down, that he can't remember directions because his powers mess up his knowledge, that his innocence and trust and glee are emotions he was never allowed to display.
He tolerates it because for all his strength Ginji is unexpectedly fragile. The illusions he spins around himself are strong as steel and light as cobwebs; powerful and easy to destroy. While he knows that for every horror he has seen Ginji has seen ten, and only come out stronger, he still feels the need to protect him, because he seems so……untouched by the world, pure and powerful all at once, and that purity is something Ban lost too long ago, and call him a fool but he feels the need to preserve it
He tolerates it because somehow the ridiculous trust Ginji has in everyone miraculously becomes true; somehow, the people he believes in – and he has a strangely accurate instinct in choosing those people – come through for him, despite all the odds. It takes a rare and hard heart to betray Amano Ginji, and the carefully suppressed hope his idealism summons from Ban's hardened heart is almost too sweet to bear.
He tolerates it because he never fought as hard, laughed as hard or lived as hard as he has after meeting Ginji. In a way that is almost messianic in its certainty, Ginji brings out the best in people, and for someone who felt beyond redemption, Ban finds himself strangely……absolved……by those metal-clad hands.
He tolerates it because for the first time, he is caring about someone who is equal to him. Perhaps that will be enough to avert the death that seems to stalk one step behind Ban. There is a chance – more than a chance – that when one of them dies it will be by the other's hand; Ban does not mind it much, because that would be a fitting end for him, to die by a friend's hand. Even the possibility that, for once, he will not be the one to walk away is enough for him.
He tolerates all the irritation and annoyances of being Ginji's partner because if that is what it takes to keep Ginji sane, to keep him alive, then it is worth it. Ban protects Ginji, he's taken knives and electricity and blows for him, nearly died for him, but really it's not such a big deal if he dies for Ginji, because he wasn't alive for so long until Ginji entered his life like a hurricane and shifted everything around until he barely knows who he is anymore and can't bring himself to care, not at all, not any more.
Most of all, he tolerates it because Ginji calls to him, calls to him body, heart, mind and magic, and in the end, for all that he's the brains of the outfit, for all that Ginji's cognitive processes are erratic at best and crazy the rest of the time, Ban will follow Ginji because he can no more deny that call than the dark can deny the light, just as Ginji will follow him. He will follow him, into the depths of hell if he must, into death if he can – if only to smack him on the head, call him an idiot and wrap an arm around him and see what fun there is to be had, just like always. He has decided this, and when Midou Ban decides on something nothing can change the outcome; he controls inevitability, changes possibility simply by existing.
So does Ginji, and that is part of what keeps them with each other; together, they are raw power, force that cannot be resisted. They hold the power to transform reality, and though they are equally powerful alone they would fall apart, because without Ban Ginji would be a hollow shell and without Ginji Ban would be purposeless. Once drawn together, they are no longer whole when apart. They know this, even if it is unspoken between them, and it is part of the reason they hold together despite all the odds.
Because they are the Get Backers. Because they are.
