Warmth

1. Acrylic

It's about two in the morning when Kagashima Kaoru shoots up from his bed, panting heavily, cursing a figure from his nightmare that is not real. After a moment's notice, he finally realizes the last overtures of his dream still clinging to his sticky eyes, and blows out the heavy breath stuck in his mouth. His entire body is sticky with sweat: his dark hair is pressed haphazardly around his forehead and skull, and his boxer shorts are bunched up around his inner thigh, his complimentary yukata laying somewhere around his feet. Every one of his muscles is prepared to fight an enemy that no longer exists.

Rin, his Starmie, is staring up at him with its unblinking jewel. It is only about the size of his palm in its Shrunk form. Its jewel turns blue, and Kaoru feels a sudden urge to cry from anxiety. Of course, it's not him that wants to; no, it's Rin communicating with him. For once, Kaoru wishes that Rin can read his mind. It would make things much, much easier to explain, rather than putting to words that horrible feeling of dread of the forgotten nightmare. And now, even that feeling is slipping through his fingers, becoming even more inexplicable.

He picks Rin up and strokes its gem, trying to transfer his warmth to it.

"It's all right," he whispers, rubbing around the jewel to the gold trim. He wonders if he is talking more to himself than to Rin. "I'm all right. Nothing bad is happening. It's fine."

Rin makes a low buzzing sound, and from the static Kaoru can pick up the voices of radio stations all across Tokyo that are still broadcasting. One of the voices says, "Calmness of being," and the voice that replaces it chimes in with, "Keep up a smile!" Underneath those voices are more words adding: "sleep," "be," "happy," "worries," "none," and advertisements for sleeping pills and weight loss diets. In a lower octave, Rin's own steady buzzing quietly keeps the sounds pitch-perfect.

"Thanks," says Kaoru. He yawns. "I'm going back to sleep."

Rin shrinks down until it is no bigger than his thumb, buzzes a few more comforting phrases, and then jumps into a glass of water set aside in a small alcove. Though the capsule bunk is barely bigger than Kaoru himself, he feels like he is sleeping on the most comfortable bed in the world, with Rin playing lullabies and reflecting rainbows with its jewel, the nightmare gone from his memory, and the night silent and freeing as he leans into his pillow and closes his eyes.

"Rin, Hydro Pump!" Kaoru barks as he spurs himself forward, hoping that he can lose his pursuers through a maze of small alleyways. From behind him, he hears a deafening surge of water, and assumes Rin has done exactly that. However, that doesn't assuage his fears; last he remembers, there were Electric-types chasing them among the usual mix of Evil-types and Flame-types. In particular, he knows there is a strong Hellgar chasing them, and he cringes at the thought of it catching Rin, sinking its toxic, flaming jaws into Rin's body. No wonder its species resembles hellhounds.

Trusting Rin to catch up with him later, Kaoru slides down another alleyway. Behind him, he hears the sounds of footsteps, heavy footsteps, following him. His whole body full of rushing adrenaline, he forces himself on against the searing heat of the stitches in his chest. He is tiring far too quickly, and he suddenly realizes thatis what his pursuers are waiting for. He curses himself for being so stupid.

Running even faster after this revelation, Kaoru jumps over a fallen trash can and finds that in front of him are two huge men, both grinning evilly, blocking his only way out. Behind him, the flailing footsteps of the other pursuers are steadily catching up. He curses himself again. He's fallen right into their trap.

He skids to a stop, hesitating. Rin is still a few alleyways behind, hopefully trying to locate him now after winning the battle. What now? He's trapped between several huge men. The package in his backpack needs to be delivered in an hour, and his disguise is hot and stifling. Feeling like such a fool, he allows himself a moment of self-pity and hatred before pulling out his old baseball bat.

The bat is made of steel. It's hollow on the inside, for faster swinging speed. The handle causes a strange friction when he pulls it out of his backpack. The two men lose their smiles when they see it.

"Ya punk," says one of the men, and Kaoru notices with a pang of fear that he speaks Kishiwada dialect. "Think ya gonna fuck with us, ya li'l shit?"

"Drop the bag," says the other one. "Maybe we won't kill you."

Kaoru considers it only for a moment before he lashes out with his bat, hitting the Kishiwada speaker straight on the nose. The crunch and thud of the bat meeting his face makes Kaoru's heart stop for a beat, and through that impossibly long moment he catches the other man's eyes narrowing dangerously—but then the world returns to normal, and he ducks the fist aimed at his face like it's just another baseball, just another practice match before the big game.

Whipping around, he switches hands and swings again, aiming for the back of the gangster's head. It connects, but unlike the other man, this one only sways before straightening and once again attempting to punch him. The fist misses his face but connects with the bat, and the bat clatters to the floor, rolling just out of reach.

The unexpected second punch glances off his cheek, and Kaoru falls to the ground with a muffled scream. He's stunned; after another impossibly long moment, he snaps his legs upward, catching his attacker in the groin. Reacting quickly, his arm shoots out, groping the ground for his bat—and there, amongst the filthy, surprised Yabakuron, is his memento-turned-weapon. Knowing his time is running out, he grabs it tightly, stands up—the man he kicked is doubled over, he notices, and he feels so powerful for it—and then crashes the bat over the man's head. The man falls down, his face hitting the ground with a dull thud, and Kaoru sighs in relief.

That relief does not last long. Behind him, a fist hits the back of his head, uprooting his balance, sending him once again to the floor. His eyes fuzz over with unshed tears. There are cries to catch him, to hold him down, to kill him, and he's afraid for his life, for Rin's life, for the life of his family if they learn his identity—but there's a brilliant flash of light, and the familiar, welcome feeling of a Psychokinesis surrounds his body, lifting him off the ground and expelling those that attempt to knock him back down.

"Rin," he mutters. There's only one explanation for his timely rescue. How it survived the Hellgar was a question for another time. He relaxes into the purple light, wondering how near-death experiences can make something so intrusive and strange like a Psychokinesis feel so wonderful.

His feet touch something, presumably a rooftop, and he opens his eyes, trying to remember when he ever closed them. He looks around, grinning ear to ear under his thick layer of mask, and searches for Rin, ready to give it a huge hug for its rescue—but Rin isn't anywhere. From up so high, he can actually see Rin across the way in a narrow alleyway fighting roughly with two Coil and the Hellgar from earlier. Rin is losing the fight, and badly at that. Its gem is flickering, and its ridges are melted at the tips. Electric waves are jumping from its body like evil souls trying to possess it. Kaoru wants to scream; however, a Psychokinesis covering his entire body smothers his voice.

Once again, he's trapped.

"Ah, it is our young Kagashima-san, is it not?" says a disembodied voice. Gradually, bit by bit, a man materializes from behind him. The man is not very tall, though the way he holds himself makes him appear that he is; his face is weathered like old leather with age; his eyes are black, though where there is supposed to be white, there is only an ugly yellow; his hair is gray, swept back by gel, balding at his crown; and the rest of his body is dressed in an expensive suit. His voice is measured, deep, and he speaks in an old, extremely polite dialect, so old Kaoru can barely understand him. "Had we never known that note of defiance in Kagashima-san's essence, would we have chosen Kagashima-san amongst the throngs steeling the destitution along the street?"

Kaoru cannot swallow. He can hardly even breathe. What is he saying? he thinks. He cannot concentrate. He is stuck staring, wide-eyed, at a horrible truth: Rin is slowly, horribly dying of shock and fire. And he can do nothing to stop it.

"Poor Kagashima-san," says the man, tracing the outline of Kaoru's ear in a very wrongsort of way. "Of the many battles Kagashima-san has been witness to, is this not the crowning jewel of fatalities?"

Kaoru shivers from not only the light touch on his ear, but also the metaphor. This is the appearance of true evil, he thinks.

"Ah, our young friend has a wanting to save his Starmie." The man smiles. "Yes, Metagross, it would be appreciated if you remove the clamp on Kagashima-san's mouth, if you would please?"

Kaoru pales at the name, tensing against the invisible hands. A Metagross? Of all the things he had to be caught by, it had to be a Metagross. He is going to die, he thinks, and with not a small amount of dread.

After all, Metagross have a long, old tradition of eating humans.

The man notices. "Ah, Kagashima-san is afraid of Metagross? Is that not something, Metagross?"

The first word that comes to Kaoru's mind is big. He has never seen a Metagross outside of TV, and this Metagross is perhaps ten times bigger than the one owned by Kyushu's former Champion, Tsuwabuki Daigo. Its red eyes are trained on him, and its four metal claws leave imprints on the roof as it walks towards him. Kaoru wonders if it's using a Psychokinesis on itself; it is the only plausible explanation for how its weight is not breaking the roof. Kaoru thinks quickly, and decides on a very desperate, simple plan: Stop the Psychokinesis.

But how?

Before he can envision anything, his attention fully returns to the Metagross's probing eyes. The lock on Kaoru's body weakens, and he gulps down air as though its water and he's dying of thirst. He coughs raggedly, hoarsely, and glances at the man, noticing his stare. Defiantly, Kaoru stares back at him, eye-to-eye, grimace to neutral face. It is evident from his frown that the man does not like this, but then he smiles once again, and Kaoru feels even more cold and helpless.

"Perhaps Kagahima-san would like to ask us some questions?" asks the man. "Though perhaps the question most on Kagashima-san's mind is the name of Kagashima-san's tormentors?"

Kaoru nods his head weakly. It is the only movement he's allowed. He so badly wants to run that his legs are tensed and prepared despite the pressure holding them in place.

Rin, he thinks, I'm coming for you. Hold on.

"Ah, then may we introduce ourselves?" says the man. He bows low and dignified, his balding crown on full display. He rights himself with an elegant snap, and he smiles. "My name is Nakano Genkei. I am pleased to formally meet you, Kagashima-san."

Notes:

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