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NOTES: Once again, it is entirely too late to be writing author's notes. Three cans of Coke in the place an actual supper didn't help much, either. Ah, the tribulations of Risk night.
Now, I'm not sure if anyone's nitpicking (at least I hope not, as this fic's chock FULL of nits) but WERE they, they might address the issue of Bruce's injuries. For example, if they're so darn serious, why is he at home instead of in hospital? Th'answer is that this is set in a town almost identical to mine, and where I live it's nigh IMPOSSIBLE for one's injuries to warrant an extended hospital stay. They probably discharged Bruce after a single night, if that. Universal health care's great until the government allocates all its money to building a fleet of useless boats rather than paying nurses what they deserve. End tirade.
This chapter's all action. I've never written a fight scene before, so consider this an experiment. In the past I've had a habit of dealing more with emotion than action, making this quite the writing exercise. I promise some good, fluffy shounen ai in chapter four, as that's what this has all been leading up to. This would probably be a good time to mention I've never written yaoi/shounen ai before. *gulp* Wish me luck!
Thankee-sai's go to: AD-Chan, Marisa, Bibly, Carscard, Teri-Teri, and popcorn oracle.
AD-Chan: I knew I recognized your handle! I love your RMX and Inuyasha art. Hey, this update's a lil later than the last… but iss also a lil longer.
Marisa: Heh… but NO pressure, right? *obligatory sweatdrop*
Bibly: Lordy… annoying is right. 'Course, the simple solution is just to toss them in the mosh pit. Speaking of which, the band I mentioned in chapter two had their CD release show on Friday. Was good… and I almost found myself looking for any suspicious, purple-haired audience members *thwocks self for losing touch with reality again*
Carscard: I could always draw ya one ^_^… or get Bibly to do it, as she's far, far better than I.
Teri-Teri: "His fellow band members had taken Bruce's cue and made a running joke of Rocco's size." -- Shame on me for my ambiguity. I meant his band had found out that Bruce bugged Rocco about his size (in the past) and decided to run with the joke since then. Good eye, though.
popcorn oracle: I knew I wouldn't get to the nice, fluffy scene until after this chapter, so I needed a gazing scene to tide everyone (characters, audience, author) over until then ^_^ Oh, and I agree that nothing beats the original names.
SHEEEE-ITE that's entirely too many notes. Enjoy the fight club, kiddies… the good stuff's still to come.
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The next day's first unpleasant surprise came during block A Biology. As if it wasn't bad enough they seemed to be stuck with the world's most incompetent substitute teacher, twenty minutes into the lesson a considerably unwelcome figure appeared in the doorway. Ford grinned slyly when he spotted Rocco, and purposely chose the seat in front of him. Rocco reflected that Ford was EXACTLY the type of person you'd expect to be late for class, and fought the urge to mutter something along the lines of "typical".
"Just HAD to make an entrance, didn't you?" he whispered instead, somehow finding the courage to be so facetious.
"Of course," Ford responded flatly.
Rocco found it supremely difficult to concentrate while staring at the back of his enemy's head. Ford had chosen this class on purpose, he realized, in order to intimidate and unnerve him before their battle. At the front of the class Mr. Gustavsen bumbled through the lesson, oblivious to Rocco's discomfort. And Rocco just continued to stare, hypnotized by those soft-looking purple strands. The former Light bot was musing on something that had been bothering him since their staring match the night before.
I want to touch that hair.
There it was again, that unwanted, irrational thought. Rocco had begun to feel the pressing need to find out just how soft Ford's hair really was. He tried to think of Bruce, recovering from his injuries in their small basement suite. Ford had hurt his brother, threatened him, served the man who would love nothing more than to see Rocco dead. Rocco didn't understand his own impulses in the least, and the confusion they caused was beginning to make his head hurt. Just… to reach out and… and…
Suddenly the lights went out, and it occurred to Rocco why he had been so concerned with Ford in the first place. NOT because of some inexplicable gravitation toward his HAIR, of all things – but because of their impending fight. The nervousness that had momentarily abandoned Rocco now returned in a stomach-churning rush. Any other day he would accept this as a simple power outage. Today, though, Ford was here – and that in itself didn't bode particularly well. And what WAS Ford doing right now? Rocco's eyes had drifted away from the enemy, but now they quickly snapped back. Ford had not so much as moved from his desk, which would have been somewhat of a relief if not for what Rocco heard.
He's… Rocco thought in disbelief, he's… humming?
Indeed, Ford was humming softly the fourth song of the previous night's set, the one during which Bruce had been attacked and injured.
How utterly creepy.
The classroom had been quiet until now, the students making use of the morning sunlight to continue their work. Now they stared at the purple-haired boy, wondering at his apparent eccentricity. Then, all at once, he stopped.
"Gutsman," he said, and Rocco was surprised to see Mr. Gustavsen perk up, "make sure none of these twerps interrupt Rock and me. Okay?"
"Sure thing. Should I give the word, then?" Mr. Gustavsen asked, reaching for the classroom-to-classroom phone.
"You do that, Guts." Rocco could HEAR the grin in Ford's voice.
Suddenly it all made some terrible kind of sense. Of course Ford didn't come here alone, not in such a vulnerable (if powerful) human body. In his agitation Rocco had failed to notice just how familiar "Mr. Gustavsen" was. Wily had probably sent an entire ARMY of Robot Masters to dispose of Rocco. No wonder this guy couldn't teach Biology worth a damn.
Gustavsen said a few words into the phone, and the room was abruptly plunged into darkness as steel shutters rolled over the windows. The P.A. crackled, then broadcasted a voice that made Rocco's blood run cold.
"Please excuse this… interruption, students," that voice said in a tone that was not the LEAST bit apologetic, "but my friends and I have a small matter to attend to. You may have you school and teachers back soon enough – I assure you they are quite safe."
Rocco didn't trust that last statement. He didn't trust ANY of it, in fact, because the man behind that voice was undoubtedly none other than Dr. Albert Wily. Looks like he'd done more than just send his minions this time. The entire school seemed wired to serve that madman's purpose, to cage Rocco in. At first Rocco failed to understand why Wily had created such an elaborate setup, rather than simply raid his home or take him down on the street. Rocco had come to this world through Wily's fortress, so the Doctor had probably known where he was from the beginning. Why all these month of conniving, and all this effort to convert a high school into a deathtrap? Then it occurred to him just how sadistic Dr. Wily really was.
He's trying to scare me, thought Rocco. He could have even rigged this school up sooner than he did… but he wanted to this world to get to me first, to weaken me. He knew I was human. And this is some kind of emotional torture for his amusement.
"Forte, finish him," Wily commanded, and the P.A. clicked off.
Ford didn't move. Rocco wondered if maybe he'd finally had enough of the Doctor's blatant insanity. He wasn't counting on it, though.
The P.A. crackled again, "Sometime TODAY, perhaps?" Wily's voice conveyed not a little impatience.
Ford sighed. "You know, Rock," he said, "I'm feeling generous today. I'll give you a thirty second head start."
"I'm not going to run," Rocco said defiantly, fighting the urge to do just that.
Generous nothing. He's toying with me as much as Wily is.
"Have it your way."
Rocco hadn't so much as blinked before Ford was on his desk, one hand clutching the smaller boy's shirt, the other drawn back for a punch. Caught off guard and restricted by the desk he sat in, Rocco was unable to avoid the blow and his world exploded in a myriad of stars. He could dimly hear shouting as pain blossomed out from his left temple – the students had finally realized what was going on and now meant to come to his aid. Rocco would have been touched had he not been somewhat distracted by the situation at hand. Then he heard Mr. Gustavsen bellowing threats, and the students grew silent once again.
He looked up just in time to see Ford preparing for another hit. This time Rocco had the presence of mind to duck, and dive gracelessly out the side of his desk. Ford didn't miss a beat, but stood and leapt off the desk, aiming a foot at Rocco's lower back. His target's reflexes had diminished little, if any, in the past months. Rocco managed to roll out of the way and scramble to his feet before Ford could get in another hit. At last the brunette assumed a defensive position, realizing he postpone their fight no longer.
Ford charged immediately, fangs bared as he roared. His shoulder met Rocco's chest in a move Rocco recognized from the night before. The smaller boy found himself pinned against the classroom's back wall, Ford's left hand securely around his neck, his right pulled back in a familiar gesture. It was the position Forte always took before he used his blaster – he seemed to have forgotten he was unable to do so here. When it finally occurred to Ford that his hand wouldn't be morphing into any vastly destructive weapon, he faltered, and Rocco took the opportunity to escape. Grabbing the whiteboard ledge behind him, Rocco lifted both feet and drove them into Ford's stomach, forcing the former Wily bot backwards and off balance.
"YEAH! Kick his ass, Rocco!" his band's drummer, Josh, yelled.
"I told you kids to SHUT UP!" shouted Gustavsen, roughly knocking Josh to the floor.
I have to get out of this room, or they'll hurt the students, thought Rocco.
He bolted for the door just as Ford regained his footing. Rocco turned the knob, relieved to find it unlocked, and had barely pulled it open when Ford barrelled into him from behind, sending him sliding across the hallway floor. The hall was somehow even darker than the classroom, allowing Ford to quickly gain the upper hand. He was upon Rocco, kicking the boy's ribs and stomach. Now determined, Rocco grabbed his opponent's leg and swiftly pulled Ford's feet out from under him. Ford fell hard on his back, paralized momentarily as the wind was knocked out of him. Rather than run, Rocco finally went on the offensive and launched himself at a temporarily defenceless Ford. He though of his brother as he did so, of the pain Ford had caused Bruce the night before, and anger began to overwhelm the fear and reluctance. Rocco managed a good hit to Ford's face before the former Wily bot recovered, blocked the next blow, then resumed his attempt at strangling Rocco.
"Heh… finally decided to fight back, huh?" Ford was grinning madly again, still without a hint of humour in those eyes.
Rocco snaked his free arm around Ford's and twisted. The boy's grip on his neck loosened and that mirthless grin vanished as Ford cried out in pain. Rocco was roughly thrown aside; Ford was instantly on his feet and aiming a kick at his side. The brunette dodged the hit and stood, then drove a high, fast kick into Ford's jaw. The taller boy reeled back, then charged Rocco again. This time Rocco was able to remain on his feet, flailing and stumbling his way into the school's front foyer – to the exact spot, in fact, where he and Ford had met the day before. He dodged a punch aimed at his head, and winced at the sound of Ford's fist connecting with the pillar behind him. The former Light bot slipped around the pillar and onto the yard-high, foot-wide wall running from that support to the next. He was on defence again, stalling for time while he racked his brain for a solution to their dispute. But Ford refused him the luxury, joining him on the wall. Nimbly, he flipped into a handstand and let his own momentum launch his foot into the side of Rocco's head.
Rocco flew backwards through the window to the food services kitchen. On his way he somehow managed to trigger another one of Wily's metal screens – by way of a motion detection beam, most likely. Ford watched, dismayed, as the barrier dropped down over the window. Refusing to let his opponent off so easily, the violet-haired boy dashed across the foyer and dove headfirst into the minute space between the window ledge and rapidly closing screen. Once inside the tiny room he was unable to halt his progression; his head connected with a sharp counter edge and he fell to the floor, unconscious. Rocco had suffered a similar fate upon his own entrance. So it was that the two enemies lay unmoving in that small room, concealed from and dead to the world as it continued outside. Yet even the frailty of their human bodies could not keep from waking before long, and facing each other again.