Note: I do not own Big Hero 6, or any of its characters. A girl can dream, but this ain't gonna happen anytime soon.
Chapter 6- The Gun
Amu stood behind Hiro, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. She had lost Hiro in the Black Market as soon as a kid can drop their new cell phone. She had attempted to search for him for about 15 minutes, but gave up soon after and made her way out to the center of the Market, assuming he would find a similar route. But no. Hiro just had to wander around like a rabbit in a carrot garden. She knew in the back of her mind that temptation would get the best of him at some point, but she would be there to stop him. Again, but no. Hiro couldn't go five minutes without wandering around. And how does she find him? Shaking hands with a total weirdo! He probably just got the shit conned out of him! And now there's a stupid deal? This kid has got to be stopped before he sells his Aunt Cass' café!
Hiro turned around shyly and rubbed the back of his neck as he laughed nervously. "Amu. Hey, what's going on?"
"Where the Hell have you been?" Amu snapped back at him.
"Um, around?"
"And who the Hell is that?"
"This is Grant."
"How much money did he scam you for the dagger?"
"Funny story, actually-"
"TWO MINUTES I COULDN'T LEAVE YOU ALONE!" Amu finally exploded, "I cannot believe that you walked away from me so easily! How dumb are you!"
"It wasn't my fault you left me behind!" Hiro bit back.
"YOU WANNA FIGHT PUNK?"
"AMU WE ARE NOT DOING THIS!"
"GET OVER HERE!"
Amu swung we fist at Hiro, who miraculously ducked at the last second. Grant caught the girl's arm with a swift motion and held her fast. Amu struggled or a few moments before being effortlessly dropped by her captor. After a demeaning stare down between the two, Amu returned her attention to the cowering teen. " I see you've made a friend." She deadpanned.
"Yeah," Hiro answered shyly, "I ran into him after being chased by some gamblers. He knows about the katana. And he says he can help."
"That's great and all, but why were you running away from gamblers?"
"Uhh..."
The Black Market had two different points of view. The frightening, intimidating perspective of the wandering customer. Then there was the perspective of the salesman. Behind the scenes of the scams, side by side with the con artists: Hiro found it fascinating.
The young Hamada sat casually on a stool with a pack of gummy bears behind Grant's stand. From his new perspective, Hiro could watch everything with a newfound courage. He felt as though he had a position of power in this Black Market, working for a swordsman. It also seemed as though he had a place in the Ulan Bassels Corner of the Square, as though he was more at home in the once foreign paths. Hiro couldn't help but smile as shoppers passed from one stand to the other. Sometimes, a couple of shady men or women who looked like they needed to mug someone on the street for a quick buck would stop in front of Grant's stands, and flash Hiro a brief smile as the glanced at the blades before them. Whenever this happened, Hiro would smile back, but then watch their moves carefully, his hand on the hilt of the dagger by his hip.
Ah, yes. The dagger from the gambler. Hiro had returned to the caféwith a knife, and a job in the Black Market with a shady swordsman he just met named Grant. Of course, Aunt Cass promptly freaked the fuck out. She had attempted to ground the young teen for life, and ban him from hanging out with whoever took him to the Black Market (which Amu protested, claiming he had ran off on his own). Grant, however, had a way with words along with swords. He had gone with the two to confront their aunt about allowing Hiro to work for Grant. At first, the redhead was obstinate in her ways:unwilling to let her last Hamada step into the world of business as a swordsman's apprentice. Grant, however, placated the woman's nerves with smooth talk; he assured Hiro's safety while almost flirting with the boy's aunt. This, of course, led Hiro to almost throw up, and hide in his room after getting the okay to work for Grant the next day after school. As far as Hiro knew, Grant stayed with the blushing Aunt Cass in the café for nearly two hours. He didn't want to, and didn't want to care.
The swordsman tapped Hiro his shoulder and passed him a cloth to polish some of the blades that were looking dirtied by grubby fingers and drools of want. Without a word, Hiro got to work. Behind him, Grant returned to his place farther in the back of the stand and continued analyzing the katana that the young teen had brought from home. "It definitely is in good shape," Grant muttered under his breath, "Such a clean blade."
"My mother never used it," Hiro chimed in, polishing an iron blade that held an opal gem in it's hilt, "My Aunt Cass says it's because she was a pacifist."
"Oh yeah? Then why did she have a katana in the first place? Cassy tell you that?"
Hiro gagged at the pet name. "Said she was afraid of being killed."
Grant briefly glanced at his apprentice before returning to his work. "Yeesh. Sounds like you're from a harsh upbringing?" he commented.
"That's what I wanna know."
Hiro could see Grant turning to look at him from the reflection of the blade he was polishing. He only shrugged and continued to attempt to pick off a piece of dirt. "My parents both died when I was three. I don't really remember what exactly had happened, because my brother was protecting me. What I do remember, was that we were moving that day. We moved around a lot back then, and I never really understood why. I know my brother Tadashi knew, because he said we started to move around a lot just after I was born. He remembered why, but never told me. He always said I was better off not knowing. But I'd never stop pestering him. But, he's gone now, so I have to find out myself. I want to know where my family came from. I want to know who made that sword, because they will probably have the answer. I want to know what happened to my family. I want to find out why. I just want to know."
There was a pregnant silence between the two. Slowly, the world continued around them. People passed by without a second thought. They chatted to each other about this or that: the weather, the Blessed, the sales, their new job, how their day has gone so far. Grant continued to watch his apprentice carefully as he sat at the stool and stared at his reflection in the freshly polished blade. He could only see a glance of anger before Hiro stabbed the blade with one sharp motion into the table in front of him.
"Nobody will tell me, and I want to know." Hiro finally muttered, his expression hidden.
"Master Krei will tell you," Grant responded, placing a calloused hand on the Hamada's shoulder, "That katana of your is definitely one of his. I'll contact him. I promise I'll get him here, and I promise you'll get your answers."
Hiro smiled at the older man and nodded his thanks before returning to his duty of cleaning the blades. He glanced up from his work after a few minutes to see a customer staring at him. "Oh, sorry!" he said with a false enthusiasm, "I didn't see you. How can I he-"
The young Hamada frowned. It was the leader of the gamblers that he scammed.
Almost immediately, Grant was beside Hiro, a hand on the teen's shoulder. "I thought I told you to leave this boy alone." He deadpanned, shooting daggers at the gambler.
"I want my dagger back." the gambler spat back with venom.
"You dropped it," Grant started with a smirk, "If you drop it, it ain't yours anymore. It's fair game. Rules of the Black Market, bub."
The gambler scowled at the two and cracked his knuckles threateningly. "I don't have time to play this game with you. I want my blade back. I couldn't give two shits about your kid."
"Don't you dare say anything about Hiro like tha-"
"Hey, hey, take it easy!" Hiro jumped up from his stool and faced Grant momentarily and appeased the man. He then returned his attention to the gambler before arms were now crossed, staring the young boy down. Hiro unsheathed the dagger from his hip and tossed it to the ground beside the stand. "I didn't even want it anyway. Dull blade." he replied simply.
Before the gambler could reach for his blade, an even shadier looking homeless man crept from the shadows of the Black Market and swept in for the kill. He scooped up the blade in one foul swoop and hid it under a large jacket as droplets of rain began to scatter around the area. He fled quickly from the scene into the crowd, stumbling over his own feet. The gambler yelled at the man as he attempted to make way with his newfound treasure. Hiro could have sworn he heard the old man snicker before a loud bang forced the man to the ground. Instinctively, Hiro hid his head and ducked, the sound booming across his eardrums and pounding its anger out. After a few seconds, the young Hamada looked up and choked back a scream. Pure fear shook his body as he slowly backed away from the gambler.
The gambler and his rifle that was black as the burning ash of a fiery death.
Holy shit, he's got a gun! Was the only mantra that repeated in Hiro's head as the horror of the situation began to grasp the surrounding people. They began to panic and flee the scene, screams echoing and then silencing in the open air. Slowly, he young Hamada attempted to back away, but was driven in fear, his eyes were locked on the gambler and the rifle in his hand, a delicate smoke rising from the recently used barrel. He's got a gun! He's got a gun! He's got a fucking gun!
The old man lay unmoving on the ground. A deep red blood spilling from the back of his skull. The gambler approached the fresh corpse and stomped on the man's neck for good measure before digging around for his dagger. Once he stuck it in his hilt, the gun's barrel was pointed at the swordsman's stand. The barrel shook with anxiety and panic as the aim of the rifle was slowly lowered to Hiro's height. "Now I want my money."
Before Hiro could even breathe, Grant spring into action. He jumped over the table and grabbed a rapier, quickly dodging a wandering bullet that was poorly aimed. "HIRO, GET DOWN!" He managed to scream as he scrambled towards their attacker. Without a second thought, Hiro dived under the table in the back of the stand. He hid his head and closed his eyes. The explosions of the pistol only seemed louder when he did that. In a futile attempt to block out the screams of the small machine, he blocked his ears. BANG. BANG. BANG.
Flop. Clank.
The gambler stopped firing. Hiro dared to look up and step out from under the table. He had begged The Masks that the Gambler lay terrified on the ground, gun away and emptied with him. He internally prayed that Grant would stand victorious over the man, holding his rapier to his throat with pride. He prayed harder than he had ever prayed before for Grant's life. His prayers were both answered and not. The gambler lay dead, with the rapier lodged in his chest. Grant was not a far distance away, two bullet holes in his chest and a thief in his throat. Both men's eyes were open, but dead. They were both dead.
Hiro didn't scream in terror until the authorities began to carry Grant's body away from the crime scene.
Oh. My. God. I am a monster. I introduce a character, make him likable, and then BOOM. Dead. Leave a review if you freaked out of something when I did that to you guys. I wouldn't blame you.
Shout out to:
-Michael Khouri
-Forever Me
-A Brilliant Loser
-sarafine-ecleips
And everyone else who reads!
Remember, if you have any questions, feel free to leave a "'3'" at the end of your review and I'll be happy to respond to you in the next chapter.
I don't know, I feel like I half assed this one. I got writer's block for a while and I just feel like I bulshitted you all. I feel bad. I promise that the next chapter will be hella awesome and it will come soon. If I do not retain my promise, I will eat sat and vinegar. Raw.
Lovies! '3'