Ch. 24

Meanwhile, in another world, on a different mission altogether…

Richard "Dick" Grayson, more popularly known as Robin, the Boy Wonder, was out on patrol. It was one of the rare, yet increasingly frequent times when he patrolled alone. Usually his mentor-cum-guardian Bruce Wayne, known to some as Batman, would move with him, teaching, observing, guiding, and cooperating to kick all kinds of criminal bottom. However, in recent weeks Bruce had begun letting Robin take on patrols of the city alone. Well, not completely alone. He was given a specific area to go over, while Batman took care of the rest, and they had communicators so they could always contact each other if either of them needed backup. But still, the fact that the Dark Knight trusted him enough to stop babying him every step of the way—though realistically, Batman had never 'babied' him—had filled Robin with a measure of pride.

Robin grinned to himself as he catapulted off the edge of the roof, grappling hook chinking firmly into place around the stone gargoyle atop an abandoned church. Swooping across the street, he let the line reel in, pulling him to the sloping roof behind the small steeple. Eight long strides and he leapt to the next building, pushing off with his staff. He loved that collapsible staff. No one ever expected a kid in spandex and a cape to pull a full quarterstaff from their belt.

After another ten minutes or so of skimming through the rooftops, Robin pulled to a halt atop a four-story apartment building. Perching on the edge, in the shadow of a chimney, he let his eyes wander over the dark streets and narrow alleys. This area was only a mile or two from the docks, which meant that the standard of living was way down. Many of the buildings were abandoned; others were supposed to be, but supported a small population of homeless. Robin liked homeless people, at least the majority of the ones he'd met. Most of them were actually pretty nice, and they took care of their own. Oh, there were the odd lunatics and jerks and lazy bums among them too, but as a whole the homeless community of Gotham was pretty nice.

A flicker of movement caught Robin's eye. Across the street, standing in the shadow of a dumpster between two buildings, was a person. Robin focused harder on the figure, trying to get a better look. It was a kid, he thought. A boy about his age. Or a very short man. It was hard to tell, because almost none of him could be seen.

It wasn't the fact that the person stood in shadow, nor that he was a fair distance off, because neither of those issues seemed too relevant. Nor was it the general dark gloominess of Gotham at night. Robin was used to that.

No, the real reason was that the man/boy was wearing a very large, baggy coat, the collar of which covered not only his neck, but the lower half of his face all the way up to the bottom of his nose. Plus, he was wearing a pair of round sunglasses—at night?!—which completely blocked all view of his eyes. The only distinguishing characteristics Robin could identify were his hair—brown, and in a slightly bushy afro-looking style—and the blue cloth with a metal band sewn to it across his forehead. There seemed to be a symbol engraved into the metal, but Robin couldn't be sure what it was from this distance.

The movement had not come from the boy, Robin realized, because he wasn't moving at all. He was so motionless, in fact, that Robin was not quite sure that he was breathing. He stood absolutely still, not quite leaning on the alley wall. He could have been a part of the scenery, for all Robin knew. No, it wasn't him who moved.

It was, in fact, a girl. Robin frowned. What was a girl—no more than fourteen—doing out here in the middle of the night? She certainly wasn't homeless. No homeless girl could afford a nice jacket like that one. She was also clean, and looked healthy, so she wasn't a 'street kid'. She looked nervous, as was to be expected, her—pale lavender?—eyes shifting about. There was something strange about her eyes… it took Robin a moment to figure out what was bothering him. She lacked pupils! She was blind? Had she gotten lost and wandered here by accident?

Robin was about to leave his hiding place to steer her back to wherever she belonged—which certainly wasn't here—when the faceless person abruptly moved. He took two steps away out of the alley, in the girl's direction, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. When she realized who it was, however, she relaxed a bit.

They know each other? Robin thought, surprised. He shook off his surprise and listened as hard as he could, however, because the two had begun talking. But no matter how he strained his ears, Robin couldn't make out what they said. The (blind?) girl murmured something hesitantly, looking down at her feet. The faceless person said something in a flat voice. The girl stammered back, only to be interrupted by a voice that managed to be both curt and toneless at once. The girl asked a timid question, which was answered shortly, and then the faceless person turned abruptly and walked deeper into the alley. The girl followed quickly.

Swiftly, before they had a chance to disappear, Robin followed them from the rooftops. A shady young man who kept his face and identity hidden, wearing a baggy coat with large pockets, in the general area of the docks, late at night? That reeked of something, though Robin wasn't sure what. Drugs? Easily possible, despite his youth. Even middle schools in Gotham had drug problems. That was the most likely problem, considering the way he was dressed. But the clandestine meeting with the timid girl? True, even the most outwardly upstanding people could have a drug problem, but Robin hadn't seen a money exchange. If drugs were all there was to it, the purchase would have been over and done with by now.

Swatting at a fly, Robin jumped to the next roof as silently as possible. There was another possibility, one Robin liked even less than drug-dealing in general. She could be paying for her fix with other than monetary means. It would explain why they left the meeting-place, and why she seemed so nervous, yet submissive…

The pair he followed halted abruptly, and Robin froze. The faceless guy turned his head, looking around. The girl did the same, though looking a good bit more frightened. No-Face said something to the girl, who nodded and brought her hands up to her face. Robin couldn't see clearly, since her back was to him, but she looked to be clasping her hands. After a moment, she lowered her hands and murmured something to No-Face.

Then they both did something that scared the crap out of Robin. They both turned and looked directly at him.

Robin didn't dare move, didn't hardly dare breathe. Had he been made? Did they know he was there, or were they just guessing? It would have been nearly impossible for him to be spotted from where he was, and this was the first time that either of the two had looked in his direction…

After another moment, No-Face said something flatly, and they continued on. Robin remembered to breathe. Falling back a bit more and moving as cautiously as he possibly could—which was very, considering who'd taught him—he continued to trail them. Five more minutes brought them to another abandoned apartment building. This one had none of the signs of a homeless dwelling, and was in better repair than most of the others. No-Face walked up to the door and entered without hesitating, quickly followed by the girl. Robin caught a glimpse of a light inside, most likely from candles or a lantern, since the place obviously wasn't pulling any electricity.

Robin waited for a few minutes, to be on the safe side, and then crossed the alley to the opposite roof before descending to street level. The ground-floor windows were boarded up firmly, but he was certain he could find a way in. Whatever the deal was with those two, he was sure it was nothing good. He had to stop things before they went too far…

Robin didn't even notice that he had company until someone jabbed him in the back of the neck with a cattle-prod.

Notes: Who has a cattle-prod? No one. Neji used Juuken to knock Robin out. There are a lot of speculations that getting hit by Juuken feels like a combination of being shocked and finger-stabbed.

Robin was dreaming about his mother. However, unlike most of his dreams about Mrs. Grayson of the Flying Graysons, this one was not a nightmare involving Robin watching, over and over, in agonizing slow-motion, his parents' fall to their deaths. No, for once his dream was pleasant. His mother was sitting on the steps to their family wagon. Robin lay curled up on his side, his head in her lap, as she finger-combed his shiny black hair. His mother rocked gently, humming tunelessly.

"Mom?" he mumbled.

She paused in her humming, and he felt her shift position slightly. "Neji-kun." she called softly, and then spoke a short phrase he didn't catch. Robin realized that this couldn't be his mother. Even though her voice was warm and gentle, it had a different timbre than his mother's, and she spoke in a different language. Robin opened his eyes.

He was lying on an old wooden floor, in what looked to be the hallway of an abandoned apartment building. In a flash he remembered the events preceding his blackout. He immediately tried to sit up, only to discover that the reason he'd been lying on his side in the first place was that he was bound hand and foot, and his captors had apparently decided that that was the most comfortable position for him. His first three attempts to sit up failed, but the fourth succeeded, with the help of a gentle hand from behind.

Robin turned his head and saw that a moderately pretty woman in her late twenties, possibly her early thirties, had helped him sit up. She smiled at him and spoke gently, the sentence ending with the rising tone of a question. Robin recognized her voice. She was the one he'd thought was his mother. Her inquiry went right over his head though, so he answered with a question of his own. "Who are you? What am I doing here?"

She simply looked at him, eyebrows pulled together in a puzzled frown.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Koui frowned at the boy, perplexed. Why was Moko-chan's translation not working? They should be able to understand each other.

Apparently Neji recognized her puzzlement, because he spoke up then. "Koui-san," he said, "Because we're operating without the cooperation of this world's natives on this mission, I made an arrangement with Mokona to turn its translation on and off when Shikamaru or I snap our fingers. Since the two of us are nominally in charge, and are unlikely to snap our fingers unthinkingly, we shouldn't have too many problems."

"Oh, I see. Thank you Neji-kun." Koui said, relieved. She looked over at the handsome boy Neji had caught. He looked understandably upset. Who wouldn't be? He was tied up among strangers whom he couldn't understand, after all. Admittedly he had been following Shino-kun and Hinata-chan, but he hadn't done anything to them. The least they could do was explain why he had been tied up. "Neji-kun, could you have Moko-chan turn the translation back on? I'd like to talk to the boy, and I haven't a clue what he says."

Neji gave her a long, evaluating look, and then turned to look at the boy.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Robin glared back at the kid across the hall. The lady who'd helped him sit up seemed nice enough, but this guy's face didn't exactly seem welcoming. He had long black hair—really long black hair—and his face was definitely pretty, though not really feminine. He was probably popular with the girls. He also had the same pupil-less lavender eyes as the girl who'd followed No-Face. But he wasn't nearly as timid; no, he was downright stern, almost scowling at Robin. Robin pegged him at about fifteen, maybe less.

Robin didn't like him.

"What are you looking at?"

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Neji scowled. That didn't sound polite. A defensive, angry, and fearless response. It was probably a good thing the boy was tied up; he would escape if he could, and fight if he couldn't. Neji turned back to Koui. "I'll consult with Shikamaru, Koui-san. Though I dislike the idea myself."

"Thank you, Neji-kun." Koui smiled at him, and Neji's annoyed look softened just a bit. Like all of the young shinobi, he liked Koui.

"I'll return shortly." he said, and then turned and left the room.

Notes: The reasons they don't just leave the translation on all the time are… 1) When it's just them, they don't need it. 2) It's easier to keep a secret when no one can understand what you're saying.

Notes: Both this arc and the Xanth arc are running simultaneously. Two missions at once are possible because--as Cherie said in the last chapter--all humans speak the same language in Xanth, so Mokona's translation wasn't needed for the guys (plus Ino) there. Since the rest of the CG peeps would be bored out of their minds, some of them were sent to the world of Batman on another mission.

Notes: Sorry for the ridiculously long delay. I'd say it won't happen again, but I'd be lying. I should be able to post another chapter by the end of the month, but I make no guarantees. Now then, here's some special information about this arc. It's set in the original Batman series; I'm talking the Biff, bang, pow! series. This arc is dedicated to my mother, who is a devout Batman fan and has supplied me with many wonderful ideas and details for this arc. This chapter in particular is dedicated to my brother, who is turning fifteen tomorrow, Sept. 8th. Happy B-day, Ike! I'll post the next chapter at the end of September, and try to have a third Batman chapter out on my mom's birthday in late October as a tribute to her. After that, I'll probably switch back to the Xanth arc.