The scandal continues: see the beginning for all disclaimers.
~ * Part Ten: Misguided Intentions (Let's Be Miserable Together) * ~
Brass peeked carefully round the edge of the doorframe at her medafighter. Her rose eyes dimmed as they took in the current standstill situation in the Hop Mart: Samantha glaring at Erika while the reporter studied some of her footage. The rest of the shop's occupants continued to go about their business, checking out the catalogues spread out before them and the latest styles, all the while pretending to ignore the palpable tension in the air.
Then again, Karin seemed to be blissfully ignorant of the bad blood between the other two girls. She was merrily discussing with Henry, which new meda-parts she should buy first for Neutranurse. Said pink medabot was at her partner's side, trying to reassure her that she didn't need anything at all: just being partners with Karin was enough.
The light in the Sailor Multi's eyes faded further, nearly flickering out completely. She bowed her head and turned away, though part of her longed to dash back to her own medafighter's side.
(Miss Erika…)
Her pink eyes widened as Henry suddenly started to turn around. The SLR-type ducked out of sight before the clerk could spot her and call out, asking what she was doing back there.
She understood that she really wasn't supposed to be in the employees' section of the store near the back. By all rights, she should have been in the main part of the Hop Mart, in the front with all of her friends… at Erika's side. That was the way things were supposed to be, anyway.
(I just need a little time. Then things can go back to the way they're supposed to be…)
She leaned against the inside doorframe: nobody looking from the front of the shop would be able to spy her hiding there in one of the storage rooms. Which was good, because the Sailor Multi really needed a few more minutes of privacy to ponder her problems.
Hopefully, she'd soon solve at least one of her most pressing dilemmas, giving her more time to focus on other important issues.
Sighing, Brass slumped to the floor: strange how her legs felt like they would no longer support her. She knew they were fully functional, and yet… She ended up pulling them up in front of her, nearly resting her bowed head upon her knees.
So many problems had been born yesterday. The SLR-type recalled how just the previous afternoon, a seemingly innocent situation had helped give birth to this current nightmare…
~ * ~
"Brass? Can I talk to you about something?"
Brass turned her rose gaze away from the robattle raging before her to the speaker. She was a little surprised to see the familiar medabot standing there, then spotted his medafighter a short distance away, also watching the fight.
"Sure," she replied. "What is it, Krosserdog?"
"Well, um…"
The DOG-type glanced back at Spyke nervously, and Brass immediately became even more confused. Something was quite obviously up if the loyal royal blue medabot was acting wary of his own partner. Her suspicions grew when Krosserdog leaned toward her and shielded half of his face with one hand.
"Can we talk about it somewhere else?" he pleaded. "Someplace where we might not be overheard by…"
He quirked his head to one side, nodding briefly to the girl standing on Brass's other side. The Sailor Multi glanced back at her medafighter, whose attention was currently fixated on the robattle. Most of Erika's face was blocked from Brass's sight by the camera she held up, filming each blow.
For a moment, Brass was torn. Faithfulness to Miss Erika demanded she stay by her side at all times. But Krosserdog was clearly agitated about something, and compassion dictated that if there was the faintest chance she could assist in some fashion…
Plus, Erika appeared quite absorbed in getting down every last detail about this robattle so she could report on it later. Surely she wouldn't notice if Brass weren't right by her for just a few minutes…
So the SLR-type turned to Krosserdog and nodded agreement.
"Just don't lead us too far away, alright? I'd like to be able to keep an eye on Miss Erika, just in case…"
"Okay, okay," Krosserdog nodded, clearly relieved. Taking her hand, he added, "I know a good spot, come on…!"
He led the Sailor Multi away from the street and ducked into a nearby alleyway. After making certain she could see her partner from there – and noticing that Krosserdog checked on his medafighter as well – Brass turned her attention back to her companion.
"So, what exactly is the matter?"
"Well, um, I… I guess I need to ask you something real fast, okay?"
"What is it, Krosserdog?"
"Um…" The gray metal around the DOG-type's little black nose took on a reddish hue as he blurted, "Do you like me better as Krosserdog or Cyandog?"
Brass blinked.
"…Sorry?" she asked.
"D-do you like me okay when I'm Krosserdog, or did you like it better when I was just Cyandog?" he repeated, nervously staring at his hands as he swung his arms back and forth.
Brass double-blinked.
"I… I'm afraid I don't understand… What brought this on, exactly?"
"Um, um, well…" Krosserdog ducked his head further and mumbled, "Spyke asked me about it last night. He said he wanted to know which one I preferred, since he says he's gonna quit robattling and all…"
Brass blinked thrice, then her pink eyes widened considerably.
"What?!" she cried in unintentional mimicry of Metabee. "Why?!"
"Boss… Spyke wants to quit robattling," repeated Krosserdog, now apparently finding the pavement beneath his scuffling feet extremely fascinating.
Brass softened, immediately seeing how miserable the DOG-type was feeling. The green visor that covered his eyes had darkened, and he gazed at something past her sorrowfully. Turning to follow his line of vision, the SLR-type realized he was staring at Spyke. His medafighter still appeared to be focused on watching the fight, his back turned on the pair without even being aware of it.
"What happened?" she asked, turning her sympathetic rose gaze back on Brass.
"Bo…Spyke's been considering it off and on for a while now, actually," Krosserdog said, once again catching himself and calling his medafighter by name instead of the title he'd used so often. "Ever since he learned he was ranked in last place. He… told me about that when we… got back together."
Brass nodded, prompting, "But it's been a while, and so much has happened. Why bring that up now?"
"I don't know," and Krosserdog went back to scrutinizing the gravel. "I think…"
"What?" prompted Brass when the DOG-type hesitated.
"……I think part of it has to do with what happened the last day of the WRC," he explained, looking back up at her gravely. "You know, what with Metabee nearly…"
"…Oh," Brass nodded very meekly, briefly taking over Krosserdog's study of the pavement for her companion.
The awkward silence that followed was almost painful as unwanted memories came flooding back to them. Nearly drowning in a flood of strange memories, numb to the battles raging outside when Dr. Meta-Evil set his plot into motion. Surfacing from that dream only to be plunged into a nightmare. Giving everything they had to help Metabee battle the insane Meta-Evil, only to nearly lose him anyway…
Brass dragged herself back to reality with no small amount of effort, and cast about quickly for some other avenue of discussion – anything to escape the grim reveries. She eagerly latched onto the first question that popped into her mind, and blurted it out without really considering.
"So why did you want to ask me about this?"
"Huh?" Krosserdog murmured, double-blinking as her question jolted him back to the present.
"About which body I liked better, I mean," clarified Brass for him. Curiosity entered her voice as she pointed out, "Why not Metabee, or Peppercat, or Totalizer? I'm certain that if you talked to them, one of them might tell their medafighter, and they could help Spyke out with…"
"No way!" Krosserdog shook his head furiously. "Can you imagine how they'd react? Especially if Boss's Boss found out…"
"Oh, I suppose it's possible that Samantha might not take it very well," Brass conceded, sweating as she pictured the leader of the Screws reacting badly to the news that one of her followers was considering quitting robattling altogether.
"Right, it's no good," agreed Krosserdog, nodding frantically.
"But, then…" Brass tilted her head to one side, considering. "If you're worried about it getting out, I would think I would be the last one you'd want to come to. After all, I'm sorry to admit that Miss Erika appears to have an issue with keeping private matters private…"
"Um, yeah, but…"
"So why come to me?" Brass wondered, once again regarding Krosserdog curiously.
The reddish tint she had noticed before had not only returned, but also seemed brighter than ever. Krosserdog now seemed intent on memorizing every last detail of the ground beneath his shifting feet. Brass stared at him, perplexed by his peculiar behavior. One thing was clear, Spyke's serious consideration of no longer robattling, while clearly weighing heavily on the DOG-type's mind, couldn't be the only dilemma he grappled with.
But what else could there be? What could be causing him to act in such a strange manner? Brass had no clue, and she found that most distressing.
"Krosserdog, please tell me what's wrong," pleaded the SLR-type.
Reaching out, she gently placed her hands on his shoulders. Krosserdog went rigid at her touch, and slowly raised his head, staring at her incredulously. Brass gazed at his deep green visor, struggling to figure out why he acted so oddly.
"Just tell me. Why me? Why did you choose me?"
"Be… Because…" stammered the flustered DOG-type, "I… I kind of… um……"
But before he could spit out whatever was bothering him, everything suddenly went white. Brass blinked, reflexively squeezing her eyes shut at the blinding flash of light, and turned her head to see what caused it.
She instantly froze, rose eyes wide with shock, and felt Krosserdog do the exact same.
Another flash of light erupted before their vision, though this one was not as bad or startling as the first. Brass raised one arm to shield her face, blinking repeatedly as she stared at the smiling figure standing before them.
"This is much more interesting than a robattle," commented Erika with a smirk, lowering her camera for a moment and winking at the stunned pair. "Although I have to admit, Brass, you certainly surprised me!"
"Huh? Miss Erika, what…"
"I can't believe you didn't let me in on this!" the young reporter continued without giving her medabot a chance to respond. Her voice filled with mock disapproval, yet her cinnamon eyes sparkled as she went on, "Imagine, you didn't want to tell me you happened to like somebody!"
"What? What?" an utterly confused Brass asked, staring at her medafighter. "Like somebody? You mean…"
The Sailor Multi fell into shocked silence, rose gaze swiveling sharply from her beaming partner to the completely red-faced – blushing? – Krosserdog. For a few seconds, he met her shocked stare guiltily, and abruptly his strange behavior around her made perfect sense. Brass felt an odd tingling sensation in her face – could she be blushing as well…?
Suddenly he pulled away and scampered past her, nearly stumbling over his own two feet in his haste. Brass turned, reached out with one hand to stop him, about to cry out for him to wait…
(What am I going to say to him? What CAN I say? I, I don't know what…)
Her brief hesitation cost her the chance to say something, anything. The DOG-type slipped past Erika and was gone. Brass numbly watched him dash away, over to where Spyke was now looking around frantically for his partner. The boy finally spotted him, and as they reunited, the SLR-type's attention was called back to her own medafighter.
"You really should have told me, you know, Brass," mock-scolded Erika, grinning down at the Sailor Multi. When the medabot looked up at her with a lost expression in her faintly dimming rose eyes, the journalist softened and added, "Don't worry, I'm not mad or anything…"
They walked back home, Erika regaling Brass with plenty of tips and advice about boys that the SLR-type only half-listened to. Her thoughts were focused elsewhere; primarily on her own confused feelings, stirred the instant she realized Krosserdog felt something about her.
When they reached home, Erika ushered Brass into the house first. Mildly confused by this, Brass's puzzlement increased when her medafighter didn't step inside directly behind her.
"What's wrong, Miss Erika?" she asked, turning around.
"Hey, Brass, stay here for a bit, okay? I've got an errand I need to run really quick."
"I can accompany you if…"
"That's okay," and Erika smiled and winked impishly at Brass while she added, "It wouldn't be much of a surprise if you came along and saw what I was getting you, right?"
"Miss Erika, you don't have to…"
"Nonsense," Erika waved off her medabot's protest. "One, I think it would be nice if you got something special to show off to your new boyfriend when we get a nice little date set up for the both of you."
"Miss Erika…" Brass stammered, blushing again.
"Two," Erika continued, grin widening as she patted her trusty camera, "It's not everyday I get a reason to do a front-page story about you. I can see it now, 'Medabot Lovers Uncovered'! What a scoop!"
"Miss Erika!" gasped a now thoroughly scandalized Brass. "Please say that you're joking about that!"
"Why not?" Erika smiled brightly. "Everybody's going to find out sooner or later, especially when I call Spyke and let him know. After all that's happened lately, I think a cute little love story is just what the public needs to hear about, don't you?"
Before Brass could reply, the still beaming Erika shut the door and skipped off, the perfect gift for her medabot already firmly in mind. This was going to be a wonderful, romantic story…
Brass just stared at the inside of the door for a long time, desperately trying to sort out her thoughts. Her feelings were so jumbled and confused: too much had happened too quickly, and the SLR-type had no clue what to think.
"She wouldn't really put us on the front page… would she?" she wondered aloud, struggling to figure out her mixed-up feelings about such a concept.
~ * ~
Brass shook her head sorrowfully. Her question had been answered, in a sense: Erika had not turned her pictures and assumptions about her and Krosserdog into front-page news. That had gone instead to an even more shocking apparent romance… Now, she found any alternative acceptable.
(I can't do anything to change what Miss Erika saw. All I can do is fix what I can, stay by her side, and…)
"Brass, are you in here?"
The Sailor Multi looked up as a small blue head peered into the doorframe. Pink and green gazes met for a moment, then both averted their eyes elsewhere. Krosserdog slipped into the room quietly and once again took to studying what was beneath his feet, shuffling back and forth.
"Brass, about… about what happened yesterday," he began haltingly, shooting nervous, guilty glances at the SLR-type.
"No."
Krosserdog's head snapped up, and he stared at Brass, not knowing what to make of her short and unexpected response.
"Brass?"
Staring down at her hands, Brass realized they were trembling. She absently clasped them in front of her, lacing the fingers around each other, in an attempt to mask her nervous shaking.
"Krosserdog, as far as I'm concerned, whatever happened yesterday concerning what you said isn't important right now," she murmured. "I've got too much else to worry about right now."
She continued to study her hands, silently willing them to stop shaking. She didn't dare look up at Krosserdog to see his reaction: the knowledge that she was causing him pain was terrible enough without having to watch him crumble.
"I… see," the DOG-type whimpered shortly, turning away.
Brass felt a terrible wrenching sensation, like something had torn into her chest hard enough to make her body cease function, even though she knew everything should be running normally. She could hear the heavy sorrow in Krosserdog's voice; it reminded her all too much of when Cyandog had inadvertently overheard Spyke talking about his new Krosserdog body and believed he was permanently replaced. It had hurt Brass hearing the DOG-type so forlorn and resigned then, and it ached even worse now.
(This is for the best. I just can't deal with this right now, not when Miss Erika needs me so badly…)
She kept reminding herself of this, hugging her legs tightly and keeping her gaze averted even as Krosserdog turned and ran out of the room, presumably back to his medafighter.
(I can't deal with this. How could I possibly try to figure out whether or not I like him when… How can I consider a boyfriend when Miss Erika's so alone?)
Getting to her feet, Brass looked up toward the dark ceiling of the storage room, seeking answers to questions she couldn't even quite form in her own thoughts.
(Sorry, Krosserdog. Maybe if this wasn't such bad timing…)
She turned back toward the light coming from the open doorway, rose eyes quickly sweeping over the outside. Sure enough, the DOG-type had retreated to his partner's side. The blue medabot was the picture of despondence, slumped down beside a very worried and confused-looking Spyke, who was asking him Krosserdog in vain what was the matter with him. Sloan studied the pair interestedly, an unreadable expression on his face.
Henry and Karin were also looking over, both looking confused and a little dismayed at the scene. Neutranurse, Sumilidon and Kantaroth all looked at their fellow medabot with concern. Koji and Rintaro seemed more interested in pointedly ignoring at each other at the moment. Samantha was apparently absorbed in another activity: glaring daggers at none other than Brass's own medafighter.
Erika also appeared oblivious to the scene, instead working intently on her camera. Brass forced herself to approach her medafighter, acting as if she didn't see Krosserdog's sorrow.
(Once this has been sorted out, I can figure out how I feel about… Then, I can give you the straight answer you deserve, Krosserdog. Until then… Miss Erika comes first.)
Brass sat down next to her medafighter, and took to studying the floor with dim rose eyes.
(Miss Erika always comes first…)