Author's Note: *gasp!* What's this? An update! I was on a complete roll in writing these, it's insane. *prays it lasts* A few quick notes are at the bottom, which always seems the best place to put 'em. XD
Chapter One
It was a Tuesday, nothing special about it.
An obnoxious goon milked the so-called "glory" of his latest win, goading any half-hearted punk with a box of scraps to be his next competitor, and she sighed.
Just like every other Tuesday, she found herself questioning the reason why. At least the streets outside the back alleys of San Fransokyo provided a fresh challenge. But nope, her evening had her dragged back to the underworld.
Bot-fighting. The embodiment of an overly-ambitious punk's wet dream: robots, hard cash, and rebellion. The Holy trinity, some would say. She, on the other hand, found it a too loud, over hyped, intolerable nightmare.
Maybe she should call the cops, just to end the night on a flare. And if she got a few deserving stragglers banged up this time, well, nothing like a long overdue reality check on the dangers of irrational gambling.
"Can I try?"
Her irritation was overshadowed by budding amusement, and she indulged in a small smirk. Finally, the night was reaching a peak. She'd be home within the hour.
"I have a robot; I built it myself."
Disbelieving silence. And three, two, one ...
The oaf—Yama—broke the collective pause with a bout of infectious laughter that spread to the surrounding crowd. Hiro shrunk back a little, appearing for all the world as how a fourteen year old should look when lost in San Fransokyo's less desirable districts.
As tiring as his charade was, no one could say he wasn't dedicated. Thus he played the crowd with minimal manipulation. A crumpled wad of cash and Yama inquired, "What's your name, little boy?" with a tone that skyrocketed past 'patronizing.'
"Hiro. Hiro Tanaka."
Not that anyone would believe him.
"Prepare your bot, Zero."
They entered the ring, Little Yama—really?—on one end, and Megabot on the other. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought Hiro's faux petrification were real as he sat down rigid and meekly imitated the veteran bot-fighter's oh-so intimidating cracks and snaps.
"Two robots enter, one bot leaves. Fight!"
The match was so pathetic she nearly cringed, despite herself. As Hiro nervously inquired to go again, she straightened herself up from where she leant against the wall, cocking her hip to one side. Naturally, the genius brat succeeded with the aide of more cash, and the ensuing rematch was vastly more satisfying.
And as it turned out, the obnoxious old-timer proved to be a hypocrite atop it all.
As Hiro gave what he no doubt thought was an innocent smile at the sight of Yama gaping at the dismembered pieces of his prized bot, he practically sang, "No more Little Yama."
"What, what? This is impossible!"
"Hey, I-I'm surprised as you are. Beginner's luck." A statement that would've been halfway convincing if he'd tried to sound as innocent as five minutes prior. He nonchalantly shoveled his winnings into his pack, airily inquiring, "D'you wanna go again?"
He found himself slammed up against the wall not five seconds later.
"No one hustles Yama!"
There it was: the sore loser.
She traced her fingers over her wristband, flicking on the concealed switch and relishing the muted buzz, whilst Yama retreated with a grumble of, "Teach him a lesson."
"Pathetic."
She supposed it should've surprised her how pitifully easy it was to stop a man in his tracks with a well-aimed jab to his bruised ego. She spat the word with a cocky edge, prompting Yama's enraged face to swerve in her direction.
"Doesn't every man need a code? Tell me what happened to the part about sore losers." From the corner of her eyes, she noticed Hiro's curious, wide-eyed look. Before then, it had always been about the dine and dash. But tonight, she was in need of an outlet. "You're dragging your own reputation through the mud. Some claim you're all about dignity and integrity. Did you clobber them over the heads, too?"
She swore she could hear the metaphorical click in Yama's head.
"You—" He pointed a thick finger at her. Oh, this was going to be rich. "—are from Fujitas, aren't you?"
Frankly, no. She had no idea who or what he was referring to. But she cocked her head, playing along. "What gives you that idea?"
"Delinquents, hustlers—all the same!" he spat. Behind him, his three bodyguards cracked their knuckles, awaiting orders like obedient dogs. "What does their messenger have to say this time?"
"Think of it as an insider job. But after that display, it's safe to give them the heads-up that you're old news. Once a man abandons his morals, he's lower than dirt."
Yama appeared affronted for a few moments, then threw back his head and let out a hearty chuckle. "Morals? As if they understood the word. They cut you up, burn you in acid. I'll just cut your face." He jerked his head to his lap dogs. "Forget the hustler. Teach her a lesson."
And there it was.
"No, a kid. And he beat you fair 'n square. Face it, old-timer. You're washed up. Can't even obey the rules."
Anyone else might've flinched back or caught the brute's fist, but nonchalantly tilting her head aside provided marvelous results. His fist cracked against the brick wall where her head had once resided in front of.
The lap dogs were strong, she didn't doubt. But they lacked the skill to keep up.
"Can't even fling a punch at me yourself? I was exaggerating before, but now I believe I'm justified. Woman up."
He didn't get to respond. But the look of growing fury was washed away by a flurry of red and blue flashes of light, and the piercing wail of a siren.
It was too simple, but oddly gratifying to send the attendants into a panic.
Yama and all three of his lap dogs were momentarily dumb-struck, but the lapse in focus was all she needed. She clasped the hook of her tool above the brute's shoulder and, to his eyes, vanished the next moment. With her mag levs in place, she rocketed forward to circle all four repeatedly, guiding the radius of her rounds by the amount of sturdy wire on her wrist before clipping the final hook in place with practised ease.
It must have been a sight as pathetic as Hiro's faux match, but the tell-tale wail of real sirens kept her from stealing a glance to commit to memory.
In the thicket of her intervention, Hiro had slipped away like sly fox he was, undetected as he tripped the pre-prepared lights. No doubt he stood on the other side of the forming barrier of cars as police swarmed the scene, waiting to see how she could get out of this mess.
It was like the world moved in slow motion, nearly frozen around her just for that moment. Through the thickening barrier of bot-fighters and police cars, she wove effortlessly through the flurry, so quick and precise that no one could give her a second glance.
Her eyes narrowed on Hiro's skinny form standing beneath the non-functioning street lamp, just as discussed. She straightened up, decreasing the momentum to glide onto the pavement, then extended an arm to catch hold of the pole, in unison with Hiro reaching up to catch onto her as she swerved.
In hindsight, the months of idle training dedicated to perfecting that one maneuverer paid off, she decided, as Hiro easily clung to her back like a scheming monkey while she darted off into the night, rapidly gaining distance from prying eyes and too-bright lights.
"Perfect timing as always, Lei. How're those skates handling?"
And there it was.
Gogo skidded to a halt. She rolled her shoulders, shrugging Hiro off before cutting off the power to her mag levs with flick of a switch on her wristband. "It was more fun when they thought I was floating. What's your obsession with miniaturising things?"
Hiro shrugged. "Hey, at least this way you don't have to worry about drawing attention to yourself."
"You used to think that was part of the fun." She gathered up the deactivated disks and slotted them carefully into her pack, ignoring Hiro as he rolled his eyes.
"You didn't have to call the cops, y'know," he grumbled once they set off on foot. "It would've been funnier to just leave them there all tied up."
"Weren't you paying attention? A criminal needs a code, otherwise that'll be you hog-tied in a back alley, humiliated and broke. I'm not big on the idea of visiting you from the wrong side of the bars."
"I won, didn't I?"
"Yes. And I'm thinking by now, straight up robbing them would be more efficient. Though if they're willing to hurt kids, I'd say they deserve the humiliation."
It was more than that. Yama was one of the undesirables in the underworld; a power-hungry, sore loser. And she'd been waiting months to dish out long-awaited justice to his overly inflated ego. Now the man had Hiro's name, whether or not he believed it, it would have been stupid to postpone things.
Yes, even more stupid than Hiro offering up his name and face. Unfortunately, her little brother liked to deal in all the wrong shades of recklessness.
"And I'm thinking that you—" He jabbed her arm. "—had fun tonight. C'mon, after all the work I did on your skates and you still can't manage a thank you? One of these days, my genius will be recognised."
"It'll come the day you get out of the back alleys and crank out some fresh ideas."
"And to do that, I need to get my creative juices flowing—" He faltered at her grimace. "Okay, bad wording, but you saw the horde tonight! Mediocre at best, but all different kinds. Plus hey, easy money."
As he flashed a neat roll of notes to prove his point, Gogo glanced down at him, slowly raising an eyebrow. "It's times like these that I feel ashamed to call you my brother," she drawled, decidedly ignoring his pout. "This is why child prodigies end up flipping burgers for a living and falter when it comes to rowdy customers. Because everything up until then was easy."
"Since when do you get on my back over challenges? If I recall correctly, our deal was that you don't say a word about the bot-fighting as long as it's my choice and I do it well. Difficulty wasn't a part of it."
"I thought it was a given."
Hiro had the gall to titter. "And that was your mistake. Never assume anything unless you have proof, otherwise you know nothing."
"Tamper with my project, and now you plagiarize my words? Shame on you."
"I took an idea and I made it better." For emphasis, he patted the contents of her pack. "You're always complaining about how it's not fast enough. Hand in the skates, get top marks, and you're free for the rest of the semester. Think about it, Lei—video games, BMX-ing, all that sleep."
"Or you could concoct an original idea and gain righteous credit. I know it's a stretch for you, but the alternative is managing a sushi joint."
"I choose option three: I'll do things I enjoy and cherish the fond memories of my adolescence."
"About bot-fighting? Where it's equal opportunities face smashing against a brick wall?" She shook her head. "Keep it up. You'll lose your two front teeth before you're sixteen."
"Seems a little light. Last week you were telling me to save up for the inevitable nose job."
"I never said stop."
Once back on their street, Gogo pulled her hood over her head, both concealing her identity and cranking her shadiness points up a few levels. But if that was the price to pay for avoiding detection from high-strung neighbours, so be it. And besides, half the competent cops in San Fransokyo were hauling in half the wannabe Yukaza; it was a two in one.
Speaking of, that event would either inspire Hiro to return to the arena ASAP or up the price for his head. If not both.
Inwardly, Gogo sighed. Why did actions have to bring consequences?
Moving through the shadows, the two ducked and dodged the odd prying eyes of watchful, gossiping neighbours. As late as it was, paranoia bred from crippling naivety was infectious amongst sheltered stepford smilers. She boosted Hiro over the brick wall, following herself as Hiro took the lead, strolling across the too-perfect lawn. Though once they approached the house, he stepped aside, holding his arms out in a show of mock-chivalry.
"Ladies first."
One after the other, they climbed up the sturdy lattice that wound up the side of the building, which conveniently paved a ladder to Hiro's open bedroom window.
Gogo was perpetually torn between viewing it as a good or a bad thing. On one hand, it made escape attempts a piece of cake. On the other hand, exactly that. And given her own years of teenage rebellion, she spent nights wondering if the design flaw was inexplicably her parents' way of encouraging Hiro's dubious hobbies.
If anything, it discouraged Hiro from piecing together an outrageous mecha he'd intended to have built to lift them up several stories. Gogo had drawn a firm line on that one.
"It's conspicuous. You'd be found out. Always take advantage of a lucky coincidence, but don't push your luck."
Hiro had pouted for a solid week, but he stuck to his half-hearted promise.
"Sweet haul tonight," he was murmuring as she crept across the hall to her own room. "Still can't believe it worked, though—I didn't actually expect them to take the bait, but who's complaining, right?"
Gogo waited until they were safely on the other side of her door, clicking it shut before responding, "Victory for the little guy. Hurray. I've done my part. For the love of God, no more bot fights for at least a week, got it?"
Across the room, sat on a chair with his sneakers propped up on her desk, Hiro inquired, "Why? You scared of facing revenge?" His smug smirk was downright punchable.
"Tired. Of your shenanigans. Some of us actually work to get where we are."
Hiro shrugged, crossing his ankles. "My offer stands, y'know."
"Pass." Gogo shrugged off her jacket, tossing it over her chair before running a hand through her hair. "Sleep, Hiro. I don't want to hear your voice for at least twelve hours."
"Yeah, sleep sounds so good. See, I can nap whenever I like. It's one of the many benefits of no-college-commitment. But if you insist—ow!" It didn't remotely hurt, but a having a pillow launched at one's face tended to elicit a yelp of surprise. Hiro clapped a hand to his cheek as the pillow slumped to the floor. "There are laws about child abuse, you know."
"No bruises, no claim. They wouldn't believe you."
"Yeah, but I can do this."
Gogo didn't bother concealing the roll of her eyes as Hiro widened his own to a degree that put puppy-dogs to shame, twiddling his hands together and appearing to the world as a lost little cinnamon bun who had to be protected, no matter the cost.
"And my record is clean, thank you very much," he resumed, dropping the façade. "I have the courts on my side for this one."
"Too bad I'm not opposed to blackmail."
Hiro snorted. "I'd believe you, if only you weren't so noble."
"Is that a challenge?"
He held his hands up in mock-innocence. "Not at all. I admire your morals. That itself puts you above Yama."
"Oh joy," she drawled, rolling over to stuff her face into her pillow. God, she was really beginning to feel those all-nighters. And love aside for her brother, Hiro's smug face and I told you so attitude at the end of each day hadn't provided much of a stamina boost past the urge to wring his neck. "That makes it all worthwhile."
"God, college is sucking the fun right outta you. Remember when we used to revel in the win?"
"Good night, Hiro."
Though she knew he was smiling, Hiro had the courtesy not to chuckle at her exhaustion. "I love you, too, Lei. I appreciate you helping me out tonight."
And finally, finally she was left alone.
-0-
Author's Note: Tadashi and Gogo's number one priority would be Hiro's safety, especially given his little hobby. But while in canon, Tadashi did his best to discourage Hiro from bot-fighting, I'd say Gogo would go about things differently. She doesn't approve of his dubious hobbies, but she allows it on the condition she goes with him—she remembers her own years of teenage rebellion / boredom, and Hiro is stubborn as a mule on the best of days. Forbidding a teenager is a guarantee to get 'em to do it. So she's sticking to his side to keep him safe. (Plus Hiro was on board with Tadashi taking him bot-fighting—why would Gogo taking him be any different?)
Quick Note: Gogo often brings her bike home to tamper with. It led to Hiro "borrowing " one of the discarded prototype wheels and whipping up a project of his own, thus Gogo has her mag levs so they can make a quick escape from bot-fights without appearing conspicuous the whole time during.
Whew, okay. I'm satisfied. Following this one, chapters will be longer. (Though originally, this one had a snippet with Tadashi. Problem was, it felt tacked on however I went about it. So I thought "screw it" and scrapped the scene.)