Chapter 17, everybody! Sorry for missing last week, all the writing juices were going to Books II and III of this series. ^^;
Hiro and Obake are definitely on the same wavelength in canon, the main difference being that Obake gives no effs about little things like right, wrong, and morality. In other news, Obake's experience here with Hiro mirrors my experiences with walking my Dalmatians over the years—face, meet ground.
Also the one scene was heavily inspired by that one exchange between Obake and Noodle Burger Boy. You know the one.
Big Hero 6 © 2014 Disney
How To Train Your Dragon © 2010 DreamWorks
Okay, good news, Night Furies were indeed smart enough to at least imitate a rune drawn in the ground. Repeated testing would be required to fully confirm, but for now it counted as another trick Hiro had learned. In all, he thought he was handling things very well thus far.
Except for the part where Hiro tackled him.
He could tell afterwards that Hiro had been trying to play, of all things, except that simply didn't jive at the time—at the time, he had figured that his scheme had finally come back to literally bite him, and that was that.
The simple fact of the matter was, he still didn't trust the little dragon.
Certainly didn't trust him when it was obvious he was a schemer too—him fetching the saddle and leash was a question mark, as was him being okay with having it on after his meltdown from before. What was this, exactly?
"I'm beginning to think I had the misfortune to shoot down a dragon who thinks exactly like I do," he told Hiro after a few minutes of the dragon pacing around at the end of the leash. Hiro paused to look at him. "I can't decide whether that's a good thing or a bad thing."
Everyone and their mother would probably argue bad thing—the general consensus had always been that one Obake was bad enough.
Oh no, here he comes now.
Shake those dour thoughts from his head, focus on the task at hand—he wasn't entirely convinced that Hiro wouldn't bolt as soon as they were out of the cove; he needed a backup plan in case he couldn't keep a hold on the rope. Ah.
Hiro watched with interest as Obake tied the other end of the rope to his belt, tested it to make sure it was good and tight—looped the rest around a hand before leading Hiro to the cove entrance.
"Well, let's test this mess, shall we?"
Hiro seemed more than willing to, followed him closely as he squeezed back out, bumped against his leg when he paused to make sure there was no one in the area….
Minced out after Obake, sniffing at everything with interest. So far so good—
As he expected, Hiro tried to bolt.
What he didn't expect was the little dragon being strong enough to yank him flat.
His next clear recollection was a few minutes later, face-first in the sod with Hiro sniffing about his head with concern.
"So the belt works," he groaned, pushing himself upright—and then settling for rolling to his back when that wasn't happening in the next five minutes. "You. Bad dragon."
"Wuff," Hiro noised, sitting down.
The rest of the walk went relatively well—now that Obake had Hiro's measure, he could brace himself for any more sudden yanks. And Hiro seemed happier for being out of the cove.
Hiro also seemed warier as well, apparently reading Obake's own caution and reacting accordingly. Clever boy.
He rewarded Hiro with the last fish from the oilcloth when they returned to the cove, scratched behind the ear flaps….
Considered the sky, thick with clouds and the distant rumble of thunder. Looked to be the first real storm since he had shot Hiro down. The sort that—if he wanted to continue having a live dragon—he probably shouldn't leave Hiro out in. No guarantee that any shelter he constructed would be suitable, and the same structure that kept Hiro in would also see the cove swamped. Think, come up with something clever….
No, that wasn't clever—but in the short term he had no choice.
"Well," he sighed, packing up. "It's not like I'm known for making the sensible choice—come on, Hiro."
Older-Light-Fury woke up later to a fish by her nose, Nadder-Mother-to-Everybody sitting next to her with a fierce expression on her face—she guessed that the Nadder had been keeping everyone away from her and the fish.
"There's a storm coming in—I can smell it," Nadder-Mother-to-Everybody said as Older-Light-Fury ate the fish. "We should be able to weather it out here, but you be careful."
"I will," she said, standing. "And—thank you."
Nadder-Mother-to-Everybody touched noses with her. "I get it, don't worry. Just—don't you get…."
Fierce determination flooded through her. "I won't."
And with that, she launched herself into the air.
The wind picked up as the sun flew to its nest beneath the horizon, bringing with it memories of her clutchmate and her beau—Stormchaser had loved flying in storms despite the danger, and Older-Light-Fury would often fly herself ragged trying to catch up. Thunderstrike had impressed her with his own aerial tricks, and Older-Light-Fury had eventually learned to enjoy having the male Night Fury tag along on their storm flights.
But now all that was gone, and all that was left of them—her memories and their hatchlings—threatened to slip through her talons to be gone forever.
No. No she would not lose another one that was precious to her.
Flap, flap harder, angle into the storm, not worrying about lightning or a potential Skrill—it was going to go over the Yokai-nest, but if she could get there before the rain washed all scent away—
Charge up a blast, fly through it—glance to confirm that her scales had turned transparent, arrow down to the island.
Not even a ghost could see her now.
Hiro had seemed very confused as he followed Obake through the darkening woods, confusion deepening when he realized their destination.
Obake, meanwhile, had paused on the edge of the woods, considering the village in general and that annoying open space between them and his house in particular. Everyone should be seeking shelter from the storm, but…no. No chances.
Crouch down next to Hiro, considering his options. He could try getting Hiro into his rucksack, but that would leave the question of the rope, and if he needed to run he also needed to be able to drop something weighing him down. He could try having Hiro cling to the inside of his coat—it wouldn't affect his outline or be noticeable. It was just that the main problem with either of those plans was that it hinged on Hiro actually listening to him.
Wave his hand over Hiro's head, getting his attention, bring it down, one finger up to focus him.
"Listen to me," he said sternly. "I know you understand me—what we're about to engage in is highly dangerous and based on me not wanting to risk you drowning or freezing to death. But if you want to avoid a remarkably painful death, you need to do exactly as I say. Understand?"
Hiro shuffled on his feet, glancing around as though weighing his options—finally looked back at him and dipped his head. It could be translated as submissiveness or agreement, but at this point he was going to take it. Think….
Finally settled on having Hiro crawl into the rucksack as easier to manage for now—the threatening rain was almost on them and he could hear an extra layer of sound on the water, rain on crashing waves.
"Don't move, don't make a sound until I tell you," he told the little dragon before lowering the flap over him. Pick up the rucksack, braced against the extra weight—
Checked one last time before bolting for his back door.
Slam against it, slip inside, cursing his eyes for having to adjust to the dark—he hadn't bothered coming back here for days now, and the fireplace had long since died. Scour the building as soon as his eyes adjusted, ran back to the doors and bolted them both—
Wait until he had a fire started before scanning the house one last time.
Mostly open, the loft where he slept separated from the rest of it by a set of stairs, railing, and support beams. There were storage rooms tucked under the loft, which he checked again—a desk, a table for eating, shelves, an open pantry combined with the mudroom area near the back door, and the kitchen wrapped around the corner of the house between the front door and the fireplace. Small, simple, serviceable, with most of the available spaces filled with his own experiments and notations.
There was also a basket on his dining table.
Hesitate, shift his weight a little…no, the place was empty but for him and his very dangerous guest. Finally dip down, put the rucksack down and flip it open.
"No tearing up my house," he ordered, unhooking the leash from his belt. "And if someone comes up here, you hide and don't come out until I tell you. Understand?"
Hiro didn't give much inclination that he did, Hiro seemed taken with being indoors.
"Yes, this is my house," Obake sighed, sitting back on his legs. "You're in my house. Try not to trash it, I don't need a mess I can't explain away."
"Wuff," Hiro noised, slipping out of the rucksack to start padding around the house—reached the end of the rope and pulled, padded back to Obake to let him undo the rope.
Soon as that was done, Hiro was off, making him very glad he had bolted the doors first. Sigh, mutter about idiot dragons, investigate the basket on his table. As he might have guessed, it was from Carl. Either that, or Momakase had stepped up her game and learned how to forge Carl's handwriting, which he doubted.
Hey,
Got you some food here, Momakase didn't help don't worry, eat something.
—Carl
PS: Yama and Sparkles are after you, be careful.
Great. Just great that was wonderful news. Crumple up the note, pressing his fist against his forehead as he growled under his breath—finally throw the note away in a fit of pique.
Hiro poked his head out between the upstairs railings and chirped in confusion.
"Nothing you need concern yourself with," he told the little dragon—glance up as the pattering of rain started on his roof, strengthened into a proper storm within a few seconds. Yes, he had been right in getting Hiro out of that, he didn't know if dragons could catch cold and now was an awful time to find out.
Hiro seemed to think the same way, yipped and bounded down the steps, launched himself off the last few steps when he realized what was in the basket.
"I would like to eat too at some point," he informed Hiro, resolutely not looking at him while he cleaned the fish. "Wait until I'm done."
Hiro sat up, pawed at the air.
"Very nice, Hiro, but let me finish—you can have the bones, stop that."
Hiro huffed, jumped onto the counter—was put back down quickly by Obake.
"Terribly sorry, but all employees must wash their hands first," Obake said—arched an eyebrow when Hiro started licking a paw. "And I'm not counting that. Wait your turn."
Hiro made a disparaging noise at him before resuming his examination of the house, circling back to the fireplace to sniff at it—paw at some ash before drawing the symbol for fish in it.
Obake considered him, weighing his options—on the one hand, it was important to reward good behavior, and he was definitely linking the rune with fish which was important to this whole test of linguistics…on the other hand, he was also being had, and he wasn't entirely unconvinced that Hiro knew that writing that rune got him fish and therefore he'd get the fish currently on the counter. Finally compromise with the fish guts he wasn't going to do anything with anyway.
"Yes I'm sure you think you're very clever," Obake told him, going back to fileting the fish. Glance down at the chuff, see Hiro write the rune again. "I'd like to eat too, Hiro, I'm not going out in that mess because you ate me out of house and—"
Was cut off by a loud boom of thunder, causing him to flinch and look up—
When he looked back down, it was to find Hiro flattened to the ground, looking up at the ceiling with naked concern.
"What's this?" Obake asked, amused despite himself. "Is the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself afraid of a little thunderstorm?"
Hiro gave him a look that almost bordered on offended.
"I suppose you wouldn't understand that," he mused—looked at the rune again. "Or perhaps you do—it's hard to tell this early in the experiment."
Hiro huffed, glanced up at the ceiling again—went back to the fireplace and scratched out the rune for fish again.
Obake considered him before writing out Hiro in the ash.
"Do you understand such abstract identifiers?" he asked the confused little dragon. "You're aware of yourself, yes, but are you aware of what you're called, the stories around your species? Do you have a society, and if so how complex? You seem to have a concept of family units and your larger flight, but how organized is it really? Is it comparable to a village?"
Hiro was definitely looking at him with confusion now.
Obake sighed. "I do wish there was a way around this—you can understand me, yes, but there's a language barrier, if I were to be generous enough to assume dragons have such a language." And what would one call it? Dragonese? "Unfortunately, until I can come up with a better plan, we're stuck with the slow approach." Slow but interesting, if this bore fruit. Otherwise, it was just another trick Hiro was learning.
Hiro considered the ash before scratching out the rune for fish again.
Sigh, slice off the fish tail and flip it to him—crouch down once Hiro snapped it up to scratch him about the ears.
"You really are a clever boy," he told him. "And far too trusting."
Hiro had just enough time to lift his ear flaps in confusion before Obake dropped his hand and tapped on that bundle of nerves—the little dragon collapsed, would be out for a blissful fifteen minutes.
"Now then," he sighed, standing and going back to the half-gutted fish. "Where were we?"
She sped through the island as fast as she dared, trying to get it covered before the rain hit or a Yokai found her—
The rain found her first.
Older-Light-Fury couldn't help the disparaging hiss, snorting at the water that thwarted her senses—disguised the approach of enemies and washed away the scent of her hatchling.
There were one or two spots that held promise—one, where a collection of scales was, with a Yokai metal-claw nearby. Another, a few scales in a cove with a dead Yokai-fire.
Both spots did not hold good promises.
She screamed into the night, venting her frustration—she didn't want to believe it, didn't want to accept it—but the evidence suggested that Little-Brother had been eaten by the Yokai. She wanted to scream, to rage, to raze their nest to the ground in retaliation—
She couldn't—she still had Older-Brother, the slimmest of hopes.
And if she wanted to save him, she had to go back right now.
Close her eyes, knowing it was dangerous on this island but doing so anyway, holding back her emotions….
I'm sorry, Little-Brother. I…I tried. Huff, sadness soaking her through like the rain. I should have tried harder, should have fought—fought long ago. I'm….
Launch into the air, screaming her grief, drowned out by the thunder.
I will not fail again. You're in a place now where pain can no longer touch you.
I just ask that you wait for Older-Brother—I can't—I can't lose both of you. But…but if he's already up there with you….I'll be joining you soon.
Because if Older-Brother was dead as well….
The last thing she would do on this earth would be attacking Mountain-King.