Authors note: I was originally going to leave this story up in Japanese, just because there was something funny about that. But, though it will sacrifice the irony to a degree, here's the English version.





Here's some background info. This originated in Japanese, as I was playing around in a Japanese typing program and tried seeing how Darien and Hobbes might speak in Japanese. It was quite fun. Hobbes speaks in a semi-Osaka dialect, his name is pronounced as "Hobbusu," and at one point he calls Darien "bokenasu," or a "dim-witted eggplant."

So I started writing out a conversation-story. I wrote the outline in an English-typing program, since it was easier. Then it turned out that writing the conversation in Japanese was much easier when I wasn't trying to use the English-written outline as a guide, since I kept writing in Japanese but was thinking in English. There was some real unnatural soundin' Japanese going on for a while, due to all 'em nuances and idioms an' grammar an' general cultural differences and stuff. Whoo-ee.

Anyway, when typing the English version out, I started using the nice, complete Japanese text as a guide, but again, there was a tendency to directly translate the Japanese into English, meaning annoying language differences popped up again, meaning I had to switch to English mode completely and write in an "Eh, this sounds good," attitude, occasionally cannibalizing from the Japanese story and base English outline. Speaking of which, "Cannibalizing" is an interesting word, isn't it?



Anyhow, that is why I'm calling the English version a "loose translation," the two stories parallel each other but only somewhat, and that anyone who can read Japanese still gets to feel special.



For the record: story is up to Season Two episode 3, and no I don't own the show and whatever is related to it.



But without further ado...











On the Matter of Life

= A loose translation of _Jinsei-soudan_ =





"Yo- Fawkes, you listening?"

"Hm?"

"Ah, see, you aren't listening!"

"Er...sorry..."

"...You okay?"

"Mm."



Hobbes stopped walking down the halls of the Agency, and stared intently at Darien. Hobbes was considerably shorter then Darien, but he managed it anyway. "Hey- what're you hiding?"



Darien, who had likewise stopped, looked down at Hobbes from half-lidded eyes. As Darien was considerably taller then Hobbes, this was easy. "Huh?"



"Don't mess with me, now. You've been giving one-word replies to all my questions. Hence, you're lying. Hence, yer going to 'fess up."

"Being interrogated that far, guess I have no choice." Darien smiled a hint of a smile. "I'm just... a little depressed, that's all."

"..What..." Slight panic flickered across Hobbses's face. "Whoa, wait... the last time you were depressed...that ended up being pretty scary."

"You mean, stage five QS madness? How I almost became a murderer, senselessly striking at innocent people? Yeah, guess that was-"



"I'm talking about you skipping down the streets. Anyway, so what's with this depression?" asked Hobbes, ignoring Darien's brief glare.



Darien sighed. "Well.. I was just thinking about my life."

There was a silence.

"Yes, I can see why you were depressed," agreed Hobbes.

"...You're supposed to cheer me up."

"But...how?"



Darien began to looked even more depressed.



Sensing this, Hobbes desperately tried to improve his mood. "But... I'm sure there's *something*... Yeah, about your life...er..something good about your life... hold on, I'm getting there..."



Darien put a hand on Hobbses's shoulder. "....I think I understand. You can stop now."



"No, you got me started now, I am *going* to find something -- I got it! I got it! Your brother's Quicksilver Project work was not in vain, and you're the proof."



There was a silence.



"That's my bother. Not me."

Hobbes, who looked like he was about to say something, closed his mouth and avoided looked at Darien.

"And he died, betrayed by a guy on his own project team."

"But... anyway... you're the successful manifestation of his efforts!"



There was another awkward silence, as Darien and Hobbes contemplated on this.



"Uh... 'successful' being the point of emphasis, of course..." Hobbes said, stumbling over his words. "But... moving on. Your present life. You have a steady job- I mean, even if you can't really get a job anywhere else, if you think about it... you get paid a good sum- a lot more then your... partner..." Annoyance flickered across Hobbses's face, but he went on. "You fight crime! You get beat up a lot, but you fight crime! You can turn invisible- you need a shot every week or you go insane, but none the less, you can turn invisible..." Sensing a more and more downfall into desperation, Hobbes stopped and then tried changing topics.



"Uh... your future! Like I said, you have a steady job- you're stuck here, but it's a steady job. I think. You... will...um...continue to fight crime! Unless you get killed or something. Sure, you'll eventually build up a resistance to counteragent- but that's in the far future."



Darien looked even more hopeless.



"Yes...right... going back to the present. Hey, ya gotten to know several ladies, yeh know. From the time I got stuck with you as a partner, I've seen you meet quite a number... more then your partner, maybe..." Again, Hobbes looked distinctly annoyed for a few moments.



"Anyway, hey, one of 'em was a model - she sort of made you blind, and then you ended up killing her boyfriend...Oy...Um, one of had a major crush on you -- sure, she was genetically altered and fitted with special lungs which she used to almost drown you with, but... One was a young genius- Hey, didn't you destroy her life's work or something?" asked Hobbes, then went on.



"Anyway, she got married to some guy in London... England... somewhere. So moving one, one of them's a nice artist - whom you met because I got knocked off a fire escape and my head busted while chasing perps and ended up the hospital with her as my chick roommate. Hm. One of them was a thief - wait, you already knew her, that doesn't count. One of them infected you with a virus that literally made you prematurely age... One of them keeps trying to - and succeeds in - proving her superiority and dominance to you. And she stuck a gun down your pants...."



"...You didn't make any positive comments on the last few."



"Well... I tried." It was an apologetic tone, though a slight twitch in Hobbses's eye told of hinted irritation.

"In fact, you really aren't making me feel any better."

"Look, I said I tried!" Hobbes dropped the nuances, and poked his finger in a rather threatening manner at Darien. "Anyway, why is all about you? Let's talk about me, huh?"



"Um.." Surprised, Darien ran a hand through his hair, and awkwardly spoke. "Ah... okay... I don't know too much about your life, but I guess it's fair, so... You were in the Gulf War, as well as the Mexican war... wait, maybe it was the Austrian war.... something like that... Anyway, thanks to whatever war it was, you gained much experience and field knowledge. And now you're at this unknown, low-paying, evil, shuffled-around -- anyway, you're at the Agency." Darien pursed his lips, and went on. "You had ADD and stuff, but thanks to medication and psychiatry, you were able to over come it, and even get married. Then, you know, you kept falling in love with your psychiatrists, your wife divorced you, and she's now married to some other guy. Then there was this thing where you started stalking your wife because you didn't think the guy-"



Hobbes held up a hand. "...That's... enough..."



There was a silence.



"Okay.. Now we're both depressed..." muttered Darien. Then he seemed somewhat embarrassed, and added, "Uh... sorry.... You know, I really was trying, but...."



"No, it's fine. Just..."



"About our lives and stuff... let's not talk about it anymore."



"Yeah..."



Giving dual sighs, Darien and Hobbes started down the hallway, looking considerably more depressed then before.





-End-