Barnaby wasn't awake when he tore himself away from Kotetsu, nor was he awake when Kotetsu unconsciously made an unhappy noise at the sudden loss of warmth. He wasn't awake, so he didn't register the half-run, half-crawl that hurtled him to the toilet, and it wasn't until the strange alarm that was the action of vomiting relentlessly that he realised that he was indeed awake and probably alive because being dead could never result in this much physical torment. Tendrils of his hair were plastered to his face and the rim of the toilet seat felt cool against his burning cheek. He didn't bother trying to remember anything at all, rather he focused on simply existing and allowing his senses to slowly creep back in their full terror.

Light came first; the rays of the morning sun glinted off the mirror and assaulted his eyes. He lifted a leaden arm and batted listlessly at a cord next to the bathroom window until the blinds clacked down like shots from a machine gun. Ah, sound, a horrible sensation to have as an enemy. His more minute touch receptors began to make him aware of the crust on the edges of his squinting eyes, but he stopped short in surprise when he reached his hand up. Barnaby pulled himself to his feet and leaned heavily on the sink. His gasp hurt his ears and sent another wave of nausea coursing through his body.

"What is this?" he panted almost silently, touching the mask on his face, then patting the top of his thoroughly mussed hair. A mental snapshot clicked into place: last night, kissing, undressing, Kotetsu, a bed-his own bed? A second memory surfaced, this time the feeling of pulling his arms from around something soft, leaving his bed, and the muted groan that stayed behind as he rushed to be sick. Barnaby put his fingers on the edges of the mask once more, his heart pounding so loudly and splitting his head into a thousand little shards. He thought he might vomit again and sat down hard on the tiled floor, slipping further until he was curled up there on the ground, a heap of confusion and anxiety and nausea.

Kotetsu awoke nearly half an hour later, slightly cold and trying to find the source of the beeping. It was Barnaby's alarm clock, which had been knocked under the bed during the night. He slid off the covers ungracefully and stuffed his arm under the springboards to retrieve the errant clock and turn it off. It wasn't until he'd set it back on its nightstand and sat down on the red comforter that he realised that he was partially dressed in Barnaby's bed with no apparent sign of its owner. Kotetsu had escaped with only a slight headache, but his memory of the night faded into black about halfway through his trip through the city towards Barnaby's flat.

He knew Barnaby must be ill, considering the amount he drank, so he went on a search that ended quickly because he found his target in the most predictable place after a night of heavy drinking.

"Bunny?" he whispered, placing a careful hand on the young man's shoulder. "Wake up. You're going to miss the announcement on the news." Receiving no response, he gently brushed away some of the golden hair from his forehead, then pulled the mask off with great care. Being hungover was hell, and Kotetsu knew this better than anyone. He turned to alcohol in the months after Tomoe's death, sending himself reeling every night. Now Barnaby was drinking to cope with the loss of his childhood, his parents, his life goal, his job. Kotetsu understood him all too well. He wasn't going to make anything worse than it had to be.

"You won't want to miss this," he prodded.

"Shh."

Kotetsu knelt to put one hand under Barnaby's shoulder and the other under his head and began to prop him up, moving delicately as though Barnaby might break. "Come on, Bunny," he insisted, "you need to style your hair, anyway. It's a real mess."

Barnaby dipped back into consciousness long enough to jerk his body out of Kotetsu's grip, landing hard on the heel of his hand. The pain worked like electricity, stimulating every nerve ending in his body, making him heave, though he wasn't sure if embarrassment didn't also have something to do with his discomfort. Strong hands gripped him and pulled him to his feet, which refused to do their job, and he crashed into a human wall that held him up perfectly.

"I'm not a child!" He somehow managed to force the words out of his mouth, which was being as uncooperative as the rest of him. "Take your mask back!" he demanded, feeling young and foolish and not remembering how it got on his face to start.

"I did." Kotetsu's voice was calm and low, his steady hands still supporting Barnaby as he trembled. "Come on." Kotetsu tried to lead him away from the bathroom.

Barnaby wrenched himself from Kotetsu's hold and immediately regretted the decision. He spoke with barely a whisper but his words registered in his head like a shout, "I am not a child! I can walk on my own! I don't need your help!" and his hand found its way to the wall for support; soon his entire body had collapsed against it and he realised how sick he had been when he woke up, how weak it had left him.

Kotetsu watched him for a moment, wondering if this was how Antonio felt all those mornings when he let himself into Kotetsu's flat to wake him up, get him ready, tell him he was late for work again, beg him not to go out drinking again that night, suffer all the verbal abuse his best friend had flung at him over time. He sighed and headed into the kitchen, returning with a large glass of water and some painkillers. "Please drink this," he murmured, crouching to be at eye level with the man who had sunk to the floor because his legs gave out.

Barnaby averted his gaze. "Thank you," he said, and he wondered if Kotetsu could feel the shame radiating off of him like heat off the pavement in summer. He sipped at the water-how long had it been since he felt sick and someone brought him a glass of water? Then he watched Kotetsu's feet walk away and listened to the sound of the television being turned on and tuned to the morning news report. He scooted himself in a most undignified manner until he was seated in the doorway between rooms, facing the television, leaning on the frame for support, holding his cup with both hands. He didn't watch the woman announcing the news so much as he watched Kotetsu taking it all in, shirt still unbuttoned, hands in pockets, back arched slightly as he looked down his nose at the screen like he was judging the anchor's performance. He noted the tension in Kotetsu's shoulders, the wiggle of his toes, and the flaring of his nostrils and knew these were all manifestations of pure apprehension.

The woman said in a clear voice, "On the topic of Heroes, we have received surprising news about the most famous Hero partners. As of today, the popular NEXT crime-fighting duo featuring the King of Heroes, Barnaby Brooks Jr., and his partner, Wild Tiger, are officially in retirement. Their sponsors have declined to comment at this time. We share with you now the first look at their farewell video..."

Kotetsu wore a deep frown and looked back at Barnaby, who had set the water down at his feet and put his head between his knees. "Hey, Bunny," he said, muting the channel and walking over to him, "are you okay? This isn't the end, you know." He tried his hardest to sound reassuring, but he wasn't even able to convince himself.

"Of course it is," replied Barnaby, his words muffled through what Kotetsu suspected might be sobs. "You go home to your daughter. The other Heroes go on to fill our places. I stay here. Where I've always been. Where I'll always be. Alone. Nobody to save. Nothing to do. This is the end." He dug his fingers into his legs as he spoke. He waited for some sort of response, a stupid joke or a half-baked attempt to make him feel better, but all he heard was a quiet sigh and the rustling of fingers against fabric. Barnaby looked up. "What are you doing?"

"Mm? Oh, I'm leaving," Kotetsu said nonchalantly, picking up his jacket and threading his arms into the sleeves. Barnaby stared, speechless with a look of betrayal stamped on his face. "If you're so convinced you haven't made a difference and that you can't be successful in the world without being a Hero, then you should have never become one to begin with," Kotetsu snapped. "And you should never have agreed to be my partner. That would have saved me a lot of trouble, you know, Bunny. I thought we were friends." He put on his shoes hastily and rested his fingers on the door handle.

"Kotetsu..."

"I suppose now that we're no longer partners, you don't need to keep up the act anymore. You think you couldn't have made an impact on me because you never thought we could have been friends in the first place." He opened the door and inclined his head politely. "Barnaby." He turned to walk out the door.

Barnaby jolted to his feet, upsetting the water and not giving a damn. "Kotetsu, wait!" he cried. "That's not true! That's not what I meant!"

Kotetsu paused, his back still turned. "I'm listening."

Barnaby closed the distance between them, hovering a hand over Kotetsu's shoulder without daring touch him. "You are my friend. Of course you are. And maybe you're right, I never should have become a Hero. But if I hadn't, I wouldn't have met you, and even though I don't know what my future holds now that I am no longer a Hero, I hope that you will always be a part of it. Because you are much more than my work partner; you are my friend, Kotetsu." His voice shook with trepidation. Kotetsu was the only family he had left. He simply couldn't function without him. Kotetsu's head was shaking, and Barnaby felt his stomach twist into knots.

"Oh," Kotetsu breathed, then he paused for a long moment before continuing, "I never thought that would work so well!" He spun around and grabbed Barnaby in his arms, squeezing him unceremoniously into a tight embrace. Barnaby melted into him, tears in his eyes, still thoroughly confused, and he felt deep rumbles of laughter channeling through Kotetsu's chest as he rejoiced. "I gave you a taste of your own medicine, didn't I? Jumping to conclusions, forcing you to admit the truth! Oh, Bunny! And can you imagine how angry Kaede would have been if I hadn't brought you home with me? I haven't been this happy since you remembered who I was after Maverick altered your memories!"

"Th-that was only a few days ago!" Barnaby laughed, delirious with relief, feeling as though he would normally be angry with Kotetsu for deliberately misleading him like he did but not caring about this revelation one bit. "Let go of me," he said without resolve, and he did not struggle. When Kotetsu finally did release him, he said, "At last!" but couldn't bring himself to mean it. Kotetsu grinned wildly at him.

"I'm going to go take a shower. You should really do something about your hair."

"Kotetsu!"

But he had disappeared out the door, calling down the hall about needing help packing his books as he got into the lift. Barnaby shut the door, titillated, embarrassed, and made his way to his own shower to try to undo the damage to his hairstyle, fully expecting to stand under the hot water for eons with a hand pressed to his lips,grasping for definition between memories and dreams of last night.

Kotetsu hit the call button for the lift, jumping as it buzzed obnoxiously. "Broken?" he growled. "Damn it!" He opened the door the the stairwell and set off, grumbling the entire way down.