These Black Eyes

by P0ST

The ongoing adventures and experiences of the Teen Titans, as witnessed through the eyes of a silent newcomer.

51. Birth of a Ghost

51. Birth of a Ghost

When I realized I had walked into the City, I froze in my steps. 'Into the City' to me meant a drop off the suspension bridge and onto the main land on the East Side of the Bay. Before me stretched a tame horizon of gray, reflective building sides that rose in tiers towards the central climax of the urban horizon. Cars zoomed past me, taking the off ramp of the bridge to the main thoroughfare and happily joining the aluminum bloodstream of society. There were store fronts with highly decorative windows that shined in the reflection of the noonday sun. Over at a sidewalk corner of an intersection, a hot dog vendor serviced a touring family in shorts and sunglasses. A few feet off, five kids with a basketball and a dog giggily trekked their way across Town.

This was a Heaven, an urban Heaven. Indicative of its own relative beauty.

It was also the end of my journey. But I hadn't necessarily walked all this way to end up here. Any town would have been fine in my opinion. Be it Metropolis, Gotham City, or what have you. As long as I reached the East. The Atlantic Ocean. The end of everything.

I just……had to get away from the West.

I took a deep breath and pressed on, bordering the inlet curve of the Bay along south. The length of travel showed on me. My jeans were stained with rain and the cuffs caked in mud. My t-shirt grew stiff from several baths of midday sweat, and my denim jacket was getting ragged and stringy in various locations. My long black hair hung like a ponytail, and it had turned stiff and dry with splitting ends that frizzled off everywhere imaginable. I had on goofy-large sunglasses. The types that old people on meds wear. I looked almost like a robot about to shoot out death rays from his concealed eyes. A satchel hung over my back, click-clacking with everything else in my life that I needed.

Everything else……that I needed.

I looked like a bum. I probably was one. I was down to under fifty dollars and two pairs of underwear. Not very heroic.

I found myself entering a place relatively pleasing to the eye. My black eyes, at least. The 'Bayside Plaza'. Essentially a hormone-filled pit of concrete, park benches, store fronts, eateries, movie theatre box offices, and the random dispersal of after-school Americana in between.

And in spite of the commercialism of it all—between the plastic laughter and the Bay breeze wind—I liked it…

I spent a fifth of my life's funds at the time on a Japanese cuisine. I had reached the frontier and I needed to celebrate it……somehow. The human soul is truly hedonistic under all the white linen.

I ate at a table, shaded by an overhang. Above me, unseen teenage faces rambled on and on in post-pubescent excitement:

"Oh man!! I saw them with my own eyes! Cyborg, man, he kicked ass!!"

"Were any of the others with them?!"

"Yeah!! Robin! Starfire!! The whole lot! They were wailing on Mumbo Jumbo's ass! God, they certainly straighten this town up! I tell you—"

"Robin's my hero. You can straighten the town up with the rest of them for all I care."

"Pffft…Vicky, you're so pathetic!"

"So are you!! What's that Starfire spread doing on your wall in the basement!!"

"Ha ha ha ha!!"

"Knock it off!!"

I walked away.

I found the beach. Or the beach found me. Either way, I was satisfied. The sun began to set as I padded my way through the sand. Soon it would be night. I was jobless and I needed shelter.

I didn't care.

I sat in the rough and stared out into the rough and somehow found a soft sigh escaping my rough lips. My breath rippled on the golden waters and laughed up into the crimson sky and all was still and all was moving at the same time.

I pulled out a deck of playing cards and absent-mindedly shuffled them in my hands. It's an awkward form of meditation, I know. But I didn't have my myrkblade out.

Amidst the shuffling and the rippling and the sighing of the cards, the water, the breath—something strong and real emerged and stabbed its way into my consciousness.

My black eyes twitched and I saw IT for the first time.

The Tower. A giant 'T'—a half cross—jutting up from the bluffs of some forsaken island and acting as a figurative lighthouse for City. Glistening light and everything. The sunset shone off the windows in red fury as the world went to sleep and the moon yawned overhead.

The immensity of it all clouded me. In my mind, the finite shadow of my being stretched out and covered me. For a split second, just looking at the Tower made me realize—after miles and miles of oblivion—what my self truly was.

And I smiled…I smiled so much.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

My face was deadpan.

I looked sadly at the game of solitaire, its cards spread across the cold, freshly-constructed kitchen counter.

I sighed heavily and continued placing cards down.

In the background, the tender voices of Cyborg and Beast Boy lit the air.

"Ah yeah!!" Cyborg chirped. "Finest room I ever did see! Told ya we'd have it back in normal in no time!"

Beast Boy yawned. "Nnnnghhh…I've seen enough of it. Must….rest…."

"You gotta be kidding, man! Just look at this place! We should take pictures of it and stuff!"

"Awwwww, duuuuude!!" the changeling whined. "Cyborg, we've been up practically ALL NIGHT on this thing!"

"So? I feel more awake than ever!"

"Zzzzzzzzz."

"Pffft. Typical."

A beat.

"Hey Noir!!" Cyborg waved from behind me. "Check it out, man! All back to normal!! I told y'all that the battle wasn't gonna have any lasting damage!"

I exhaled. I slowly—miserably—swiveled around and eyed the Main Room from under lethargic shades. The Main Computer had a new monitor, sparklingly new. The huge windows has been replaced and the frames tinkered back to goodness. The floor was absolutely clean of all the torn and scattered debris from the Trigon fight. And the kitchen counter was also a new accomplishment.

Robin had been the engineer behind the counter's reconditioning. He seemed good at carpentry—to our surprise.

Cyborg naturally took the reins in fixing the windows and monitor, along with Beast Boy's help.

Starfire and I pitched in every now and then, but our main task was to get the floor swept up and clean once more.

It was an amazing feat for a mere three days of effort.

I wasn't enthused.

But Cyborg was. "I say we all have a dinner in here tonight to commemorate the occasion! Together!"

I glanced at Cyborg. I looked down and saw Beast Boy sleeping—drooling—on the sofa.

FLASH!!!

Beast Boy and Cyborg flying from my glowing, red arms.

Trigon's laughter ripping through my throat.

FLASH!!!

I winced, hugging myself.

Cyborg looked concerned. "Noir?……buddy? I-Is everything allright---"

I scooped up the cards, leapt off the stool, and stomped my way out of the Main Room.

Cyborg watched silently. His human eye blinking.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

I breathed heavily as I marched through the hallway.

I realized then how huge and empty the Tower truly felt. With its metal walls and echoing chamber. A product of Silas Stone's over-inflated ego. Or so Cyborg once told me. I didn't really care at that point.

I approached the elevator doors and would have kicked them open had they not been fast enough…

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

The door rattled open as the landlord pressed a hand against the frame. It was barely hanging off its hinges. Just as decrepit as anything else in that hallow building.

Under the dim glow of night-piercing neon signs outside, I stepped in beside the landlord and took a good look.

"Like I said, the shithole ain't worth much," the landlord said. He was a cesspool of a man, two feet too short and forty years too single. He rubbed a slimy hand over his nose and smoothed up a few strands of hair over a monk head. "But considering where you've probably been……heh……must be paradise!"

I didn't give him a glance. I slowly shuffled forward into the shabby room. The floor was dusty, layered with bits and pieces of scraps of newspapers and lent. Off to the far side in a lonely corner rested a bed mattress on a crooked metal frame. Along the broad side of the apartment room there were two huge, glass-less windows that looked out onto an elevator train track less than twenty feet away. From the ceiling, a lone electric wire hung with a socket for a missing lightbulb. I fingered it lightly.

"Not even sure if it's got any juice," the landlord slimily chuckled, rubbed his nose, and added: "But it's yours, assuming you can land your ass in a job. The bathroom's out in the hallway…what's left of it. Yup…it belongs to everyone on the floor. Haven't had it cleaned in a while. Hell, I don't even use it myself. But like I said…just what you pay for."

I slowly looked at him and nodded.

He squinted at me under a few stray hairs in the urban wind that wafted in. "You don't talk much, do you?"

I stared.

"Yeah…well…heh……good luck buddy. I better be heari—er, seeing from you next week!"

And he grumbled and he waddled around, and waddled off down the brown, run-down hallway.

With him gone, I became aware of the hideous ambiance of the place. The muffled shouts of arguments between the walls. Violent t.v. sets and wailing children. Doors slamming in various places on all the different floors for mysterious reasons that I didn't want to know.

And I didn't care. I was finding myself.

I shuffled over and slumped the satchel down in the corner by the bed. I reached in, rummaged around my various, scant belongings, and produced a picture frame with a photograph inside. It showed a field of grass with an oriental hut in the center and—stretching off in the distance—a line of grand cedar trees.

I took a breath. My black eyes scanned the walls from under my shades. To my luck, there was a nail stabbed into a spot where the surface was peeling. I marched over and gently hung the frame on it. I stepped back and admired it. My past……

SLAM!!!

"Heheheheheh—are we going to the place, Ricky?!"

"Shhh!! Shhh!! Hehehehehe!!"

A series of footsteps increased in volume………and came into my room.

I spun around and looked.

A teenage boy and girl hobbled in quickly, arm in arm. Carrying bottles of wine or such. They giggled and cooed in some sort of blushed state of euphoria. Upon seeing me, they doubled back with a half-gasp.

"Whoah! Shit! Uhmm……"

"Hehehehe…hello, Joe!" the girl slurred.

"H-Hey there………uhhhh……do you live here now?"

I stared at them.

I slowly nodded.

"Ah……I see……," the guy blinked.

The girl giggled.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Um……HI! N-Nice to meet you!" the boy waved drunkenly. "I'm Ricky. This pretty thing here is Janice."

"Hiiiiiii," Janice grinned, hanging off Ricky. "How're you doing, Joe?"

A beat.

"Pfffftt!!" Janice cracked. "I am sooooooooo high right now!!"

Ricky laughed his mouth off, snorting.

To be honest, I smirked ever so slightly.

Janice leaned on Ricky—full of giggles—while the boy pointed and burped forth: "Ya know……if it's okay……could we just……ya know……borrow that mattress……ya know?"

I cocked my head to the side.

"Shhh!! Ricky!" Janice hissed.

"What?!" Ricky slurred at her. "We've used it every night for the past two weeks!"

She howled a laugh and nearly fell over him. He was full of chuckles too.

They both looked up at me.

I looked at them. I turned around. I gripped the mattress. I flipped it. I placed it down with the other side up. I dusted my hands off. I turned back to face them. I crossed my arms.

Silence.

"Huh…………………," Ricky blinked. A beat. "I guess we should be leaving you alone, then."

I nodded.

"Nice talking to youuuuuuu!!" Janice squealed giddily as they teetered around as one body and hobbled down the hallway, their bodies illuminated randomly by the blinking neon light outside the windows.

"Where're we going now, R-R-Ricky??"

"Downstairs. I know this old woman who lives on the Fifth Floor. She'll let us use her bed."

"Ewwww. Old woman?! How come?!"

"Don't ask me! She died four days ago!"

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha!!"

"Hehehehehe!!"

I stared off as they left.

An L-Train passed by on the local tracks. With a thunderous roar from the metal wheels, the entire building shook and the picture frame rattled off the nearby wall, falling to the ground and shattering apart.

I sighed.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Raven shot up with a gasp.

She clutched the sheets to herself in the mid-afternoon glow filtering down the windows.

Her eyes danced around.

Had she been cooped up in that room……in her bed……all that time?

She didn't care. The images…….the images circling in her head…

She clutched her skull and gritted her teeth with her eyes shut.

She couldn't get her out. Not since…….

Her eyes bolted open.

She had to make it real….

She kicked the covers off herself and hopped out of bed. She dizzily rested against a bedpost to let the blood stop swirling through her brain, and then she sauntered off into her closet. She flipped on a dim light, circumnavigated the hanging forest of robes, and found her target. A stack of painting canvasses.

All blank.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Starfire spoke:

"The only way to counteract the effect of wormhole is to create something of similarly crucial gravity yourself. In the year 76532 of the Tamaranian Golden Age, King Fordenc'j had his people forge the obsidian sphere. The obsidian sphere was filled inside with billions upon billions of revolving rings that wrapped around on top of each other. It would be comparable to slicing an earth onion in half and counting each fragment inside as a revolving piece of metal. When supplied with an immense energy source, these rings spin around themselves at incalculable speeds, far surpassing that of light. The result is an enclosed, imploding threshold of centripetal force which mimics the infinitesimal pull of gravity. To make a long story short, the obsidian sphere of King Fordenc'j collapsed in on itself much like a star. An artificial black hole had been made in close proximity to the next, and yet not close enough to absorb each other and become as one. The result has been—to this day—a spiraling force of energy that has torn a permanent laceration in the fabric of space and time between the natural black hole and the Tamaranian-made one. With the right form of manipulation, that laceration can be made to send a body of mass at any known spot in the universe—but at the price of a grand exhaustion of energy, which is why the Tamaranian Gateway is never used save for moments of interstellar urgency."

Robin whistled. He sat across Starfire in the atrium with his arms folded. "So that's the only known wormhole in the universe?"

"The only known synthetic one," Starfire smiled. "Well, that is not entirely accurate."

"How so?"

"It is the only one on such a scale," Starfire said. "If you count the ones that my classmates and I made for school projects---"

Robin's eyemask bulged. "You're telling me y-you made a wormhole for a science project?!"

The alien girl looked at him odd. "Why…yes…does that strike you as odd?"

"I mean….jeez…a WORMHOLE, Star!!"

She shrugged and giggled. "It only took two weeks of intense study on Tamaranian astrophysics and a trip to the fifth plane!"

"Fifth plane?"

"Erm….I cannot speak of the place in the vernacular of that alien dimension. To do so would make the cosmos explode right here and now."

"Er…..okaaaaay," Robin blinked.

At about that time, I trudged through the Atrium between them.

"Hello, Noir!" Starfire jubilantly exclaimed. "How do you fair on this exquisite day?!"

"Hey, Noir," Robin waved. "S'up?"

I gave them half a glanced and waved a lethargic hand…and I kept marching on.

I left them in silence.

"…..," Robin stared. "What's wrong with him?"

"I believe Noir is still…..recovering…..from the incident with Raven's loose emotions," Starfire said.

"You think so?"

She nodded. "Would it be beyond us to doubt that he bore the worst brunt of Raven's personalities?"

Robin stroked his chin. "Yeah….well…Trigon's no walk in the park. I just kinda thought….."

"Thought what, Robin?"

"Well, he's Noir! You'd think he'd get over it by now."

"What makes you assume that?"

"I dunno….just…," Robin shrugged. "He's Noir…"

"….," Starfire stared. She looked down and pressed her fingers together. "Silent people….do seem strong at face value. But I would not be happy with myself if I was to assume he lacked the fears and hurts that are common to Titans such as you and me."

Robin looked off into space.

Starfire leaned her head to the side. "Robin? Is there something else going on?"

"I dunno….," the Boy Wonder mumbled and looked off in the direction in which I left. "I just……dunno….."

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Beep!

After pressing the wall console, I sighed as the huge doors to the Tower's main entrance opened.

It was time for some belated meditation.

I gripped Myrkblade and stared up as a slit of light stabbed into my eyes and poured over my tall figure.

After the doors were done moving and groaning, I stepped out…

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

In the glistening sunlight, something made me pause in my step.

My black eyes squinted through my shades.

Across a line of traffic, there rested a lavish funeral home sandwiched between tall buildings to the side of downtown.

And there was a sign………

"???"

I stumbled across the street when there was no traffic and took a closer look.

I'll be damned……

'Usher Wanted'.

I walked inside the cool interior, feeling ugly in my sweaty clothes from the last two months. Thankfully, there wasn't a service, but I did see two workers silently preparing the chapel/seating hall for an open casket showing. Frantically pointing fingers around and directing the place was—who I assumed to be—the manager. A pudgy man with glasses and squeezed into a brown, gentlemanly suit.

They were all in suits.

"Where're the flowers already?! Gods, we'll never get this done in time!! We need an extra hand!!"

"Got a phone call from the Juniper family. They're expecting fifty persons to come."

"Why do the dead always come on Tuesdays?!" the manager moaned. He turned around and faced me. In some sort of half-repressed snobbishness and impatience he spat at me: "Can I help you??"

I couldn't build up the strength to ask for a job.

So I stumbled out of there without saying a word (like I could) and back out into the streets of the City.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

I needed money. And I needed food.

But of the latter part, I had myself well trained.

True, the fundamentals of fasting were passed on to me by the Master in those days on the Field.

But it was this life. This journeying…that truly taught it to me.

When one suspends one's own body. When one pushes foods and desires and other needs of the flesh away—only answering the carnal call on necessary occasion—there is a strange sense of euphoria mixed in with it. I realized how much I wanted and needed things. I realized how fragile I was. The desensitized cloud of fulfillment washed away from over my black eyes and I saw life once more as a constant fight. A race. A quest to attain something or some things. I no longer complained if a line for the subway didn't move fast enough. I didn't lash out in anger when all I was given to live in was a hole in the wall excuse for an apartment.

Things would come in their time. In their sweet, fateful time.

And I learned the value of waiting.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

That night, empty as ever, I was walking back up to my apartment. I had no luck in finding a job. I was hardly presentable for interviews or anything anyways. I knew it…I accepted it. Whatever worries I had I put beyond the boundaries of sleep, no matter how helpless I knew I truly was.

I walked the streets with my hands dug into my pockets. My breath steamed in the cold air. The gutters of the street steamed in the air. Everything was abandoned and steaming and miserable. My black eyes took what they could get.

The closer I came along the street toward my apartment, the louder a certain scuffling noise resounded in my ear. I raised an eyebrow in curiosity. I slowly, cautiously rounded a bend and came to the glass front of a gentleman's apparel store. The windows had been smashed in. There was a getaway car parked outside, and I could see the shadows of frantic crooks rustling about from the inside.

And I heard--

"P-Please! Don't kill me!! Y-You want my money, it's in the cashbox!! J-Just don't hurt me!!"

"Shut the hell up, you old fart, before someone hears you!!"

"Dude…let's just off him, man!!"

"N-No!!"

"Shut up! I admit, it's tempting!"

"Shhh!! Coast is clear! I got the stuff. Grab some of them suits!!"

"What about the old man?!"

"What about him?!"

The first of the two crooks spun around with a hand full of money and rushed out of the store window……bumping into me.

He gasped. He looked up. He frowned. "Hey, punk, get out of the—"

WOOOSH—THWACK!!!!

My fist blurred up into his nose.

Dollar bills fluttered to the ground at our feet.

He grabbed an oozing fountain over his face and stumbled back. "AGHHH!!! GOD!!! DAMMIT!!"

I gripped him by his shirt collar and flung him out into the middle of the road.

Another man gasped from inside the clothing store. He drew forth a pistol.

I teleported from standing in a straight position to behind his back under the shadows. I grabbed his wrist with the gun and brought my knee up to it with a heavy impact.

WHUMP!!

He dropped the gun with a clatter to the ground, but no sooner I had him flipped over my shoulder and through the glass and against the side of his vehicle.

SMASH!!!—SMACK!!

He fell on the ground, moaned, then got up.

I marched over towards him. My brow furrowed over my shades.

"Shit, man……," he gasped and ran down the street, panting. His bleeding friend soon joined him in the sprint.

I took a deep breath.

"Young man! Thank you!!"

My eyes bulged as I was hugged from behind. Thankfully I wasn't on edge. I turned around to face the owner—an elderly black man with apparel of the Islamic touch.

"I-I saw them earlier…I-I didn't think they'd do it. Such rough villains…all of them in the streets these days." He panted and looked at me. "I swear……I will repay you in any way fashionable. Please! I'm in your debt!"

I knew I would feel bad if I made any demands. But then I realized—as fate would have it—the pearl was being handed to me just then.

I looked around at the plethora of gentlemanly suits hanging around me. I looked at the owner.

I smiled.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

I adjusted my collar and cuffs while the funeral house manager spoke. My ponytail was tucked beneath the back of my suit. My face was cleanly shaved. My large, awkward shades—replaced by stylish glasses.

"No no no no……NO!" the man sighed and rubbed his balding head as he anxiously leaned back and forth in his desk chair. "It just won't work!! I'm at a pinch this month, and I'm not about to hire some loud, obnoxious, hippy teenager from the street to oversee services in this fine place and----"

I silenced him with a lifted finger. I reached into a pocket, pulled out a sheet of paper, and handed it to him.

Curious, he snatched it from me and read it through bifocals. His eyebrows rose as he graced the text in my own, neat handwriting.

'I am sorry, I cannot speak. I am mute and can only talk through writing or sign language.'

"…………," the man scanned the paper. He looked up at me.

I smiled, sitting up straight and polite.

He blinked. "I suppose………y-you do have an air of…respectability around you……"

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

After the first week of ushering funeral services, I got my first paycheck. It was meager, but in my present situation, it sufficed.

One night I walked briskly up the steps to the apartment hallway, my suit half undone. I toted with me a plastic bag and whistled.

I entered my room—only half using the door—and shuffled over to the corner by my bed. Under the intermittent glow of a neon light, I grabbed a secret wall panel under the bed and slid it open. There was my satchel—safely hidden from other, less generous residents (or so I assumed). I pulled out a can-opener I had been saving for a long time, then whipped out a can of ravioli from the plastic bag. I sat on the bed and prepared for the first…luxurious meal in a long time.

Patience had served me well.

But before I could take my first bite, there was a scream and a thumping sound from down the hallway.

I looked up from my bed. My ears pricked.

"Ricky!! Calm down!! Ricky!!"

"Rrgggh!! What were you thinking?!"

Down the hallway, in an open room, the dark-haired teenage boy growled and shook his fist at Janice, her roommate, and her roommate's daughter. They cowered from his fury.

"I needed that for Hector and the others!! You know what they'll do to me when I show up dry?!?!"

"It wasn't your money, Ricky!! My roommate, she—"

"You said we were sharing that stuff alone, you good-for-nothing whore!!!"

"You're making that up!! That's my money and I—"

"SHUT UP!"

He struck Janice across the face.

THWACK!!

"Aaagh!"

She fell back into her roommate's arms. The little girl was sobbing and trying to hide under the bed.

"After all I've done for you!!! I gave you a place to stay in this god damn city!! I gave you a roof over your head and you treat me like this?!?!" Ricky shouted in a drunken rage.

"Leave her alone, you tramp," the roommate glared as she hugged a sobbing Janice. "When you're done screwing with her, you so much as think you can rob her of all she's got too? Go to hell, you bum!!"

Ricky glared. Over the sobbing of the little girl he stepped forward and produced a switchblade. THWICK!! "I think I'm gonna enjoy cutting both of your throats out, BITCH!!"

A dark hand materialized with smoky trails around his wrist.

"Huh?!" He looked up.

Black eyes.

SWOOOSH!!

I tossed him like a rag doll through a table. Splinters and a porcelain statue when shattering across the floor and digging into his back.

"Aauugh!!" he moaned.

The girls shrieked.

He convulsed and snaked a hand along the ground to grab his knife.

A foot blurred over and stomped on his wrist. There was a sickening SNAP! sound.

"AAUGH!! GOD!!" he clutched his arm and hobbled up to his feet. A mighty kick in the rear sent him tumbling hard into the hallway. He landed with his back to a dusty wall. His lip and nose were bleeding He winced in pain and gasped as a shadow walked through the hallway towards him. Looming. Ominous.

Every now and then, a soft red glow from the neon sign outside wafted in and shimmered off two, solid black eyes that glared down at him. Again. And again. And again.

He gasped and crawled backwards—limping on his broken hand.

He scrunched himself up against the wall and panted.

I stood over him. The black eyes appeared again in the glow and---

CHIIING!!!

SWOOOSH!!!

A flickering, smoking blade was lowered just an inch away from his Adam's apple. It warbled with a magical, obsidian flame.

Murk.

"Oh jeez…," he breathed. "Oh jeez…oh jeez…oh jeez!"

He flattened himself against the wall.

A dark wet spot appeared between his legs.

My eyebrows narrowed the empty sockets.

His eyes bulged out.

I slowly lowered the weapon.

Like an undertaker, I stretched my left hand out and pointed straight towards the stairs.

He nodded, got up, and with a stifled cry he bounded down the steps like there was no tomorrow.

And the hallway was silent.

I sheathed Myrkblade. I spun around.

A few residents had poked their heads out of their doors. They regarded me with shock and awe. But not as much as Janice, the roommate, and the little girl. The three stood opposite of me in the doorway to their room. Their mouths dropped. In each other's arms.

I looked at them.

I flicked my arm forth, tossing them a can of food.

Janice awkwardly caught it. She glanced at it and then she glanced back at me.

I smiled. Under the gaze of everyone, I gently walked back to my room and shut the haphazard door behind me.

And they kept staring…

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"Hey Rae!" Beast Boy leaned over the dark girl's shoulder. "Whaddya painting?"

She droned. "Never you mind."

"I never knew you could paint!"

"I didn't know you were still alive."

"Hehehehehe……w-was that a threat?"

"Take it as you want."

"Oh…."

Atop the rooftop of the Titan Tower, Raven stood with a canvass and easel. She dipped a black brush into a palette and started forming specks of black and red around the white in some sort of elliptical halo. There was no shape or sense of logic in the painting at that point. Raven didn't even know if there'd ever be.

"So…..um….why are you painting?"

Raven grumbled. "Go away!"

"I'm just asking! Come on! Be friendly for once!"

"Be….QUIET!! for once!" Raven shouted, producing some sort of mystical wind that blew at Beast Boy's hair.

He shook his head and stepped back, whimpering. "Okay….Okay….I can take a hint."

Silence.

Raven sighed and continued dabbing with the brush.

Then……. "I-If you want to talk…..ya know….a-about what happened with you and Mumbo Jumbo's camera….j-just know I'm here for you, kay Rae?"

Raven didn't snap his head off this time. She exhaled slowly, and muttered: "Thanks. Beast Boy. Really. But I have to be alone right now."

"I understand," he said in a solemn—but his normally squeaky—voice. He spun around and headed for the stairwell that lead back downstairs.

Raven sighed and applied more red.

"Come out……come out!"

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

SWOOSH!!

I swung Myrkblade into a pose.

I stood still—in an awkward position—for a prolonged time amidst the tall grass. Green blades danced around my ankles in the Bay breeze by the water.

I exhaled gently…inhaled gently…held my breath and--

THWISSH!!!

I spun and crouched into another position and held it.

My muscles strained.

I sweat.

I concentrated.

Everything felt……………better………

I took a deep breath, summoned smoke energy, and spun again.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

SWOOOSH!!!

I froze in a pose with Myrkblade atop the roof of the apartment building. My feet were grounded upon a sheet of tar and interspersed gravel. Behind me—illuminating my figure—were huge neon lights with their back to me, advertising some soft drink or something. The rest of the square footage of rooftop under the night's sky was barren. A metal stack or two jutted up from the floor. Two stairwells reflected each other against the far sides.

I took another breath, twirled, and jabbed forward with my blade. That done, I let loose a blur of smoke, launched myself backwards, and let loose an intense, horizontal swipe of focused energy and--

"Hi!" Janice smiled.

My eyes bulged under their shades. I stopped the blade just inches before it could dig into her neck. I jumped back, panting, wiping sweat from my brow.

"Sooooooo," she cutely (soberly) teetered back and forth and eyed my sword. "Are you a……ninja of some sort?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"You're not very talkative, are you?" she asked.

I shrugged.

"Because that can come across as scary to some people," she said pleasantly. She leaned forward, pointed towards a stairwell, and whispered: "Like those people who typically come up here every night to enjoy the view but are too plum scared by this newcomer spinning around with a weapon by himself!"

"???" I followed her finger to a stairwell. The door to the roof was cracked open. The curious—paranoid faces of family members, residents, and little children eyed me with curiosity.

I glanced back at Janice.

She giggled. "If you don't mind sharing……"

I had a gasping look of apology on my face. I swiftly sheathed Myrkblade and simpered.

Janice spun around. "It's okay!! You can come out now! He's good!"

There was a throng of muttering as people filed out onto the rooftop. Kids giggled and bounced a ball between each other. A few old folks pulled out lawn chairs which they positioned in the center of the rooftop to gaze up at the sky through the neon light. Over all, everyone was familiar with each other. There were plenty of parents and guardians around for the children.

I smiled with wonder. These poor, stomped-on tenants of the City's underground had a haven of their own up on the moonlit rooftop. I had no idea.

"No harm done," Janice said. "It's not like they're mad at you or anything."

I glanced at her, curious.

"In the past three weeks since you've been here, you've just about thrashed and kicked out every low-life that haunts these peoples' lives! How can you expect poor people like us not to be grateful? And curious?"

I shrugged.

I turned around and walked towards the side of the rooftop. I stared out into the City skyline with the sounds of chatting adults and giggling childred behind me in the night.

I sighed.

I realized Janice had walked up beside me and joined me at the edge.

"So……are you a ninja?"

I glanced at her, humored.

"Vow of silence and all that jazz?" she straightened a lock of brown hair and leaned on the side. "How mysterious can you get?"

I rolled my eyes and looked away.

She stared. "I-Is it because they're so black that you can wear shades over them at night?" I jerked a glance at her.

She jumped. "Er…S-Sorry! Touchy subject? I'll go now—"

I waved emphatically. I showed her through expression that it was allright. My gaze then trailed back to the city.

She remained by my side.

"Ya know………um……I wanted to thank you. Ya know……for that night a few weeks back."

I shrugged.

"No really!" she exclaimed. "Ricky was fun at some points……but he's mixed up in all the wrong things. I don't know what made me hang out with him so long. H-He was right about one thing. He brought me to this City."

I glanced at her curiously.

Janice hugged herself and stared off into the stars. "I'm………I'm a runaway. From a very rich family. S-Sounds crazy, I know. I bet you're thinking that I'm another one of these good-for-nothing bum chicks of the street with nothing good to say for themselves except grand fish tails of their fake pasts. But it's true. The Kinnard family of Westhaven. Bigass house and everything. Heh……I went to a preppy school. Girls in blouses and plaid skirts. You would have loved it there."

I chuckled breathily. I was beginning to believe her……

"My parents were…………so good to me. But it wasn't the 'me' that I saw. There was something else I saw in myself. In my future……th-that I wasn't going to get a taste of if I lived in that stuffy mansion for much longer. So……I ran away. I ran away with Ricky. Because what my had wasn't good enough for me. I had to discover the world on my own. Well……heh……I discovered it all right. I discovered it under the fist of Ricky. Pathetic bastard."

I bit my lip and looked away.

She went on. "Now……I-I could go back. It's just that I have a new family in this place and—"

Her voice cut off.

I looked at her again.

She sighed.

"That's a lie. I haven't tried going back because……I'm scared. I'm scared of what my parents would think of me. I'm scared of how much I'll hate myself for ruining my pride so much. It's just……far too late for any reversals, ya know?"

I was silent.

She smiled a weak smile. "At least……even if this place is a dump……I-I'm beginning to think it's a safe dump. Thanks to you."

I smirked back at her slightly. We were suddenly aware of a throng of small bodies surrounding us.

I glanced from under my shades.

The children had gathered around. A parent or two walked over and stood protectively by them, eyeing me curiously.

"C-Can we see your sword again, Mister?" a kid holding the ball stammered.

I looked at their awed faces. I glanced at Janice.

She shrugged. "Not my doing this time!" she giggled and stepped back.

I smirked.

I reached back, and unsheathed Myrkblade in a blur.

SWOOOSH!!

Some jumped back.

Others gasped.

But generally: "Cooooooooool!!"

Myrkblade warbled with energy. I alternated between converting it to Myrkstaff and back. I spun the blade a few times and phased in and out of smoke form. I smiled.

"He's got superpowers!!"

"Look at that!! Awesome!"

And the parents:

"Remarkable……"

"Who is he?"

"How can he do that?"

I spun the blade around and sheathed it.

People clapped.

A tall man walked forward and offered a hand. "Welcome to our home, tall, dark, and mysterious."

I shook his hand, smiled, sighed, and stared off towards the City's horizon.

The huge, all-encompassing 'T' glittered against the waters in some distant land…

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

THWACK!!!!

Robin's staff struck me hard in the sternum.

I fell back and landed hard on the mat. My combat staff fell out of my grip. I gritted my teeth, winced for a second, then dropped my head to the mat with a winded sigh.

Robin dropped his staff, groaned, and leaned forward. "Come on, Noir!! You're not even trying!!"

His voice echoed.

Starfire, Beast Boy, and Cyborg—watching from a bench on the gym's sidelines—were silent.

I slowly got up to my knees and rubbed my neck.

"Get with the program!!" Robin exclaimed. "You're supposed to counter and hit me! Not fall down three times in a row!!"

I looked at my feet. Deadpan.

Beast Boy sweatdropped.

"I do not think….," Starfire murmured, "….that he is 'totally into this', correct?"

"Noir, you okay man?" Cyborg asked. "You look beat, dawg."

I shook my head, sighed, and stood up.

"You gotta try harder, Noir!" Robin exclaimed, spinning his staff into ready. "Don't give me any openings! Trust…your perception! You know you can block attacks more than I can! I don't have that gift of spatial sense! I only have experience! Now…again…let's spar. And I want to see some effort on your part this time!"

"Yes, Noir!" Starfire cheered. "Spin those sticks!"

"Gawd," Beast Boy rolled his eyes. "I wish something exciting would happen. Where's Raven when you need a good ounce of sarcastic droll?"

"You actually want her here to add boredom to this exercise?" Cyborg remarked.

"Pfft…I think Noir's doing a pretty good job filling up the 'gloom' department!"

I didn't even glance at him. I readied my training staff for Robin's approach.

The Boy Wonder gripped his bludgeon and exhaled: "Go!"

He charged at me.

I stepped back and held my staff out vertically.

CL-CLANK!!

Robin's staff spun into mine, contacting twice.

I side-stepped and blocked a second attack, this from down low.

"That's it, Noir!" Robin said. "Don't let me get a lateral advantage! RRRGH!!" He dove forward with a jab.

I deflected him upwards and sidestepped again.

I kept blocking and blocking and guarding…but not once did I attack.

Beast Boy yawned. "Can this get anymore spectacular? I can hear my intestines digesting."

"Man," Cyborg elbowed the changeling. "Wait till it's your turn with Robin before you start complaining!"

"Dude! I can so own him!"

"Yeah right—"

"Shhhh!" Starfire hissed. "Can you not see that they are spinning the sticks?"

Robin spun around and swung hard at my legs. I hopped to my side and blocked in time to deflect his incoming jab.

"I'm gonna give it all I got!!" the Boy Wonder panted. "You ready?!"

I didn't respond.

"HIIIIYA!!"

A flurry of twirling metal was the result. I gasped and blocked for all I was worth.

CL-CL-CL-CLANK!!!

I was being shoved to the back of the gym. I was nearing and nearing the edge of the mat…which would have been an 'out'.

"No chance….," Beast Boy muttered.

"Come on, Noir!!" Cyborg pumped his hand. "Do one of your blur-dash-thingies!!"

I gritted my teeth, trying my meek best to block each of the Boy Wonder's strikes.

Robin grunted and swung and jabbed and gasped: "Damn it, Noir!! Show your stuff!! RRAUGH!!"

He jabbed hard. The metal bounce off my fingers over my staff. A shock of pain rivered up my limbs and into my brain.

I winced.

My eyes clenched shut.

FLASH!!!

Trigon's laughter.

A stream of red energy.

Robin flying across the carnival grounds.

FLASH!!!

My eyes flashed open.

Robin was coming at me in slow motion.

I noticed for the first time how open he was.

A heated breath surged through me as I blurred to the side, spun, and smacked Robin straight across the chest.

WHUMP!!!

The air flew out of him in slow motion as I spun around and slammed his backside.

THWANG!!!

His body lumbered. His eyemask clenched shut.

I marched toward him, twirling my staff, repeatedly punching Robin's chin with the ends of the metal bludgeon.

WH-WH-WH-WHACK!!!

And I ended in a spinning, reverse jab hard into his side.

BUMP!!!

He was sent tumbling like a rag doll across the map, over towards the benches, and slamming into Beast Boy.

"WHOAH!!!"

KERPLUNK!!

The two sprawled onto the ground.

Robin's staff spun on its end precariously for a second or two before finally dropping to the floor with a metallic echo.

The two boys groaned…Robin most of all.

Cyborg and Starfire gasped, wide-eyed. They glanced over at me.

I panted heavily, holding the rod out lengthwise. A shudder or two went through my body. As soon as I felt my black eyes moistening, I clenched them shut. I shook. I dropped the rod to the mat with a THWUMP and quickly marched out of the gym.

Cyborg stood up and extended a hand. "Noir! Wait! Don't go……where're you….."

I was gone.

Starfire stared. She looked over at the others. "This was not a good time for Noir to train. I dare say almost as much as Raven had to be absent during it."

"Tell me about it," Beast Boy groaned and stood up, rubbing his head. "What's up with berserk boy anyways?"

"I don't know…," Robin wheezed as Cyborg helped him up. "I-I wish he'd open up to us about it!"

"And how do you expect him to do that?!" Beast Boy spat. "The dude's mute, man!"

Everyone was silent.

Cyborg and Robin hung their heads.

Starfire looked off into space…

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

The dark, red spots were forming shades and textures. Raven let her subconscious guide her as the brushstrokes became truer and truer.

The halo now consisted of dark objects in rings of red. They circled an endless expanse of white. Such insignificant little figures. And yet—between brushstrokes—the dark girl could not help but stare at them.

And wonder….

The Tower shook as Raven felt—from the rooftop—the doors to the entranceway opening again.

She first assumed it was Cyborg taking the T-Car out for a drive. But when she looked down over the edge of the rooftop and her canvass, she saw a familiar figure. Dark and tall. Alone.

One of her eyebrows raised as she watched me wander off down the land ridge towards the city.

The afternoon was slowly dying.

"Can't rest either, huh?" she mumbled and returned to the painting.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

In the sunlight I stood silently. Suited up. Dignified.

I waited patiently by the street in front of the funeral home. Watching the traffic.

Finally, I saw it. The hearse.

When there was a break in cars, I walked out and silently held my hands out. I silently and skillfully gestured the driver of the hearse into the thin alleyway that lead into the back parking lot and the rear entranceway through which the body was to be transported into the main chamber.

And when such was said and done, I placed my hands gently—silently—behind my back and followed.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

A half-hour into the gathering of the deceased in question, I stood still by the podium in front of the doors leading into the chapel. I made eye-contact—through my shades—to the solemn visitors and directed them to sign their name in the booklet. I then quietly led them down the aisle and ushered them into an appropriate seat. Then I returned, waited by the podium, and repeated the whole process.

Again and again and again…with each death.

That one day, though, there was a straggler. A middle-aged woman in a long, dark dress and holding her purse to herself nervously as she paced about the lounge before the entranceway to the chapel. It was just a minute or two before the hushed services were to begin. And she seemed very………anxious about attending.

Every now and then, she gave me eye contact as if to draw some sort of response. I politely said nothing…but simply stood there—objectively waiting for her to sign in whenever she felt comfortable enough to.

Eventually, however, she shuffled up to me, cleared her throat, and said: "You must be the usher they say can't speak."

I was a little bit surprised by that. Regardless, I smiled ever so slightly and nodded.

"N-Nice to meet you," she stuttered, eyeing the service inside.

I motioned subtly to the sign-in sheet.

She bit her lip. "I………I-I can't," she shook with a hoarse whisper. Then sighed. Then looked up at me. "Charles………I-I knew him……but the last time we met, it was not pleasant. We said so many nasty things to each other. I……I-I never thought he had cancer. I would have been more gentle to him. More……loving during the last time we saw each other alive……"

I silently stared at her.

She sighed and looked at me. "But……I suppose the worse thing in life to do about death is……look back at loved ones with nothing but regret. Forgetting all the good times………all the so many good times Charles and I had together……" A gentle smile rose across her face and faded just as soon. "My……have the years gone by so fast?"

I leaned my head to the side.

The woman hugged her purse to herself in some childish fashion. "I……feel ashamed to put my name down on that list. And yet, I would feel ashamed not to be here………I-I so want to honor him……his memories……"

I blinked. I smiled. I lifted a finger.

She looked at me.

I grabbed the pen. I lightly—briskly—wrote a name down on the last available line. I turned the book around, held it up, and showed it to her.

She read. She smiled.

'Jane Doe'.

"Works for me," she said and grinned at me. "Thanks," she whispered.

I shrugged with a smile.

She took a deep breath for strength, stood up straight, and walked into the chapel.

I put the book down back on the podium, folded my hands behind my back, and stood silently.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

The manager rubbed his nose over his spectacles. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to me over his desk.

"Here. Paycheck."

I nodded, took the envelope, and performed a little bow.

The balding man sighed and looked up from his office position. His tongue played with his upper lip for a moment before he uttered: "You know……my district manager was in here the other day. He gave me this……impressive speech about his opinion of you. He saw you helping people out in the chapel—wordlessly as always—and had nothing but good vibes. And all from a kid who can't talk and barely makes his wages."

I stared at him, blinking through my shades.

"And I wonder…," he leaned back in his chair. "Where are you going in life, mysterious one?"

I smirked slightly. I shrugged. I made to go--

"Wait." He held a finger up.

I paused.

He stood up and shuffled over to me. He placed a hand on my shoulder and looked sincerely in my face. "I've seen where you live."

"……," I was silent.

"And to tell the truth, I was surprised," he said. "And since I was surprised, that shows how much I've grown to appreciate your work here as well, young man. Because……the first day I saw you, I could have sworn you were nothing but a bum. One of those punks on the street, ya know. And yet……after having employed you for these last few weeks……you're not that at all. And yet you live in that decrepit, run down apartment. Why? What good does it do for you to live so low? Surrounded by so many……low lifes and impoverished families barely making it?! What's your goal in that, young man? Y-You honestly have me concerned!"

I stared at him.

Slowly………slowly……a smile came to my face.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"Ughh!!" a teenage boy was shoved up against a brick wall of a dark alley.

Under the glow of neon lights, two gang thugs grinned and approached him.

"Okay……if you won't pay up…," the lead one gripped the boy's collar and held up a hand with brass knuckles. "You'll bleed up!"

"P-P-Please!!" the boy struggled in his grasp. "I-I don't want anything to do with you guys!! I never did!! It was my br-brother who forced me to hang out with you that one t-time!!"

"And that means," the brass knuckled one sneered. "You saw too much."

He raised his fist.

The boy flinched. "Nnghh—HELP!"

A black wave of smoke appeared on the brick wall overhead.

The two gang members looked up.

"The Hell?!"

I dropped down—materializing into physical form halfway. I kicked the thug hard in the stomach, forcing him to let go of the boy. I glared at them and whipped of my shades. Black eyes glistened in the neon light.

The second thug pointed a shaking hand and gasped. "I-It's that freak from the Norman apartments!! The Black Eyes!"

"He's pulp!" the one thug growled. He swung a brass-full of fist at my face.

My body turned into smoke which swished around his arm.

"Huh?!" he gasped.

The smoke slid to the side, teleported back into myself, upon which I grabbed his arm, unsheathed Myrkblade, and slammed the hilt into his chest.

"OOOF!!!" He slid back, wheezing.

I swung Myrkblade horizontally.

CH-CHIING!!!

The thug gasped as my blade grazed his arm. His fingers flexed. The brass knuckles had been sliced in half and fell apart. His skin had barely been spared.

I glared at him through my black eyes.

"L-Let's get out of here, man!!"

"We're never coming back!!!"

I slung Myrkblade against the brick wall, forcing sparks to shower.

They ran off, shrieking.

And all was silent in the alleyway.

I sighed and sheathed Myrkblade away.

The boy tentatively walked up to me. "Th-Thanks," he shook. "I-I think I know where my family and I are moving next," he simpered.

I glanced back at him. I smiled slightly. I started to wander off into the street.

"W-Wait!" He cried out and reached a hand towards me. "Are……a-are you a Titan?"

"???" I spun and looked at him funny.

"Cuz………y-you certainly could be one!" he said, sweating.

I blinked. I slipped my shades on. I gave a thumb's up, and walked off.

He smiled, sighed, and said to no one in particular: "There's hope for this god awful City yet……"

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

I sat on the side of the rooftop to my apartment. I smiled at the man next to me as he told some age old story of fishing to me and a few other tenants with cans of beer in their hand. In the distance, children played with the rubber ball in a circle of chatting, smiling mothers on lawn chairs. Janice and her roommate and another friend were smiling and laughing about something.

Above us the stars shone and the neon light glared away, leaving us in dim peace.

In fact, things felt so jubilant, that not many of us immediately noticed the short, hobbling figure of the landlord as he scurried up out of the stairwell door and inquired a group of people about something. Six fingers pointed in my direction. The short fellow bowed his bald head and waddled over towards me.

The storytellers and beer drinkers drew silent as the man approached. In fact, everyone was quiet and looked my way as the landlord walked up to me, sweating, and grinned a very plastic grin.

"H-H-Hey there, Mister Black Eyes, sir. I-I-I-I just wanted to say….ahem…um…uhm…th-th-thank you for…uhm…p-p-paying the rent on time and uhm……" he eyed Myrkblade resting on the sheathe strapped to my back.

I cocked my head to the side and grinned.

He sweated instantly and stammered, "A-A-A-And uhm……it was very n-nice of you and……uhm……feel free to h-have as much f-f-fun up here as you can….and….OH! Electricity! I bet you'd like electricity to your room!"

I shrugged.

The people around me chuckled.

"Bathroom……BATHROOM!! Y-Y-Y-You want me to get a guy upstairs t-t-t-t-to clean up the toilet on y-y-your floor?! OH! B-Better yet! Chinese takeout! I-I-I hear you really like their cuisine!"

"It's Japanese, numb nuts!" Janice shouted from the side.

Everyone laughed.

I chuckled breathily.

"SORRY!!" the land lord grabbed his skull with slimy hands and wobbled. "S-S-S-S-So sorry! Japanese! Japanese takeout!! You l-l-like?!"

I shook my head. He was practically about to kiss my feet.

"Um……," the man stammered. He flushed red as he said, "It was………ya know……awfully n-n-nice of you Mr. Black Eyes person sir for……ya know…kinda sorta……ch-chasing out all those intimidating crooks who h-hung around this here apartment of m-m-mine and……um……"

The tenants around us snickered.

The man coughed. "Beengettingalotofnewcustomers……and um………I l-l-l-like that, Mister. So……so……," he struggled, shook, squinted as if he was constipated and finally blurted: "I'll lower your rent!! I will! I promise! J-J-Just whatever you do, STAY HERE PLEASE!!"

People laughed and clapped.

I smiled. I then turned solemn. I scratched my chin. I then proceeded to point out four or five families I had gotten to know during my stay there. Families whom we all agreed—as an apartment community—needed the most assistance financially.

The landlord's eyes were bulging. "Y-Y-You mean……You want me to l-l-lower their pay too?! B-B-But I can't! Er….well…maybe I can but------WHY?!"

I sighed, shrugged, and turned around. I made like to jump off the side of the building for good.

The landlord wabbled forward, hands emphatically outstretched. "NO!! No no no no no! Please! Stay! I-I-I'll do it! I promise! They'll all g-g-get an easy break! Okay?! Just p-please stay!" He whimpered. "For me?"

I pretended to think about it. I whistled. I finally nodded.

People cheered.

The landlord let out a big sigh relief. He stepped backwards, simpering and bowing his oily head. "I-I-I'll get the paperwork ready! L-Lower rates! Happy apartments! V-Very happy apartments! I assure you! Uh……uhm…b-bye now!"

And he dashed back down the stairwell in a fright, generating much laughter.

A few of the beer men laughed and patted me on the shoulder.

I smiled up at them and jumped back down onto the rooftop. I looked across the way and saw Janice looking at me. She smiled and returned to her friends' conversation.

I stared at her for a while, silent, and once again immersed myself in the fishing stories and the distance laughter of the children and the stars up above.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"Noir??"

There was a sweet voice from behind me. From up above.

"????" I spun around and looked up from where I was in the middle of the land bridge. I did a double-take.

Starfire glided down and landed in front of me. She was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and jacket. Undoubtedly from one of her shopping experiences with Robin.

"Greetings," she waved a hand and smiled sweetly. "I see you are embarking upon one of your evening treks through the city," she said.

I slowly nodded, looking perplexed.

"I was wondering if you wanted someone along for the walk," she smiled.

I sighed. The last thing I wanted right then was company. I just…..had to get away….away from the people I had so recently hurt.

But the way Starfire was looking at me—dressed so casually in earthling attire, her head cocked to the side and her smile ever so friendly and inviting—I felt like saying 'no' to her would have been even more hurtful.

So…with more or less regret, I moaned and motioned her to come along.

She nodded silently and joined my side.

I was rather surprised…not even her trademark 'Glorious!' came out from her lips. She just….silently walked by my side.

I shrugged it off and continued on the land ridge like nobody was with me. Like I was by myself.

But I wasn't….

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"Rrrghh!! That's not it!!" Raven grunted and all but tossed her brush down.

She stared at the canvass, huffing.

Red spots stared back at her. Formless. Meaningless. Elliptical mysteries of red on black.

She rubbed her stressed forehead. "Something else….something else!"

A pause.

She exhaled.

"Of course…"

All that time, she had been concentrating on malevolent energies. When the benevolent ones were….much much stronger.

She realized that there was a space between the red spots large enough for the sudden vision coming to her.

She breathlessly took her brush…and dipped it into the yellow paint of her palette first….

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

The sun was gradually setting.

Starfire followed me into the depths of the City. The deep, dark depths of the City that I once knew so well. That weighed so heavily on my mind then.

But I had no idea why. Why was I obsessing over the past?

I sighed. I glanced to my side.

Starfire immediately smiled back at me. She said nothing.

Nothing at all.

I trudged on ahead with the Tamaranian in tow.

She said nothing as we explored the Bay Side plaza.

She said nothing as we rounded the mall.

She said nothing as we trekked down Downtown.

Not a single speech. Not a catch phrase. Nothing about her home planet or anything.

She just…followed me. Silent. Mute.

My mind started spinning.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

I sat inside my window, one leg propped on the edge of a neon's sign metal frame and my hand leaning against the window sill. I stared out over the thundering L-Track at the night sky from my apartment. Stars twinkled above, and a moon shown in pale glory. Below, the skyline glowed with urban splendor.

I took a deep breath.

Silent footsteps shuffled up behind me.

I didn't look.

I simply motioned towards the next window beside me.

Janice softly padded over and sat on the window sill, looking out.

"You're the type who likes to………look at things, aren't you?"

I looked at her. I smiled. I nodded and again gazed out at the city.

"…," Janice chuckled. "Guess it's because you can't talk. You spend all your days listening until your ears get worn out. So your eyes just do the next best thing and become a big part of you."

"……………," I stared out the window. A light breeze blew at my black locks.

"Are you……ever going to tell someone how they got the way they are?" she asked.

I didn't respond.

Janice's eyes slowly traced my shaded gaze out the window and towards a distant, glowing 'T' in the waters beyond the City.

I sighed.

She glanced at me. She smiled. "That's where you should be, ya know."

I finally looked at her.

"Not here," she smiled. "Not in this dump."

I glanced down. My eyes slowly circled and found the Tower in the distance again.

"I-I never thought I'd meet a hero up close," she mused. "Especially one who……stays true to the code of protecting those around him."

I blushed.

She giggled. "Hey, I got you something."

I looked at her strangely.

"It's not much……but……," she lifted a bag.

Curious, I took it, reached inside, and pulled out a drawing pad and colored pencils.

She teetered back and forth, arms behind her back. "I……used to draw. It was gonna be my major at the college my parents wanted me to go to. I-I guess I have a gift for coloring."

I smiled.

"W-Want me to sketch something for you?" she asked.

I pointed at myself.

"Hehehe…anything you want. Just don't get me in trouble. I'm under eighteen."

I winked under my shades. I thought.

She cocked her head and looked at me.

I raised a finger and motioned her to my side of the window sill.

"All right!" she smiled.

I took a piece of paper and a brown pencil—assuming she wasn't going to use it. I wrote down a few sentences and showed it to her.

"Good idea," she nodded. "You write down at commission, and I'll draw along. See? We both make use of the pencils!!"

I chuckled.

She read the first paragraph I wrote.

"Okay……I think I can do that."

She propped the pad of paper on her knee……and took out a yellow pencil.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Raven's brush strokes cascade down in a gentle, dome like fashion. She surprised herself in how rugged the lines of yellow appeared. There was no simple order to it. There was, rather, a chaos. A very aesthetic chaos.

It took her a good minute of stroking and adding in thin lines of black paint before she realized she was…

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Sketching a head of hair.

Blonde hair.

Janice licked her lips and pivoted the pad to the side. She took both a gray and black pencil and alternated between the two as she…

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

…fine tuned a gentle, round face. Petite and pretty.

Complete with a button nose and thin lips and gentle eyes…..

Raven lingered.

Her hand shook as she pulled the brush over, and dabbed into the blue paint…

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Angel eyes formed before the rest of the face was sketched into existence.

A gentle neck sloped down much longer than Janice thought.

This girl was actually tall…

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

With thin but firm arms slipping out of a thick, yellow vest.

One hand held up to gracefully part a few, golden bangs.

Raven was glad she had saved the details on the mouth for last, for she left a tiny slit of white canvass to signify a tiny, toothed smile of sweetness.

She then dipped her brush into the green paint and…

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

…drew long, jump pants that stretched down the supple length of the blonde girl's legs.

The outfit—the vest and the pants—were rugged and yet gracefully feminine all in itself. It was a paradox…lovely enough for even Janice to ponder during her sketching.

Lastly came two humorously large boots and a long, slender—

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

…wooden sword.

Raven blinked. She let her hand finish the paintstrokes.

Alas, the blonde girl was holding a sword.

A wooden…Japanese-looking sword.

She inhaled deeply, staring at the canvass in the waxing daylight of summer.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"There……," Janice smiled and held it up for me to see.

I took a deep breath. Admittedly, there was moisture at the edges of my black eyes.

I couldn't dare let Janice see that.

She glanced at the painting, then back at me. She smiled gently.

"Old girlfriend?"

I looked at her.

I leaned my head to the side, bashfully shrugged.

"She is, isn't she?"

I chuckled.

She giggled.

I sighed.

She sighed.

A beat.

"Was?"

I looked away.

Janice winced. She cleared her throat and studied the sketch closely. She smirked, looked at me, and pointed at the sword.

"I can see what you both have in common."

I nodded.

"It's amazing……what mysteries one's past can have, huh?"

I looked at her curiously.

"Never mind me," she chuckled. "Just rambling." She stared at the painting and her mind drifted. "I-I've been thinking…"

I cocked my head to the side and listened to her.

"My parents……they must think I'm dead……or worse," she said.

I nodded.

She glanced at me. "And………m-maybe I should go back to them after all……"

I smirked.

"D-Don't get me wrong!" she emphasized. "I'm happy to be here with so many wonderful people and your protection and all……i-it's just that…………I think I know now where I should be. I think I know now………where I always should have been."

I patted her shoulder.

She blushed. She smiled.

"Yeah……the past…it really helps remind us where we should be."

I nodded.

She sighed.

She held up the sketch and winked. "Does she have a name?"

I rubbed my chin……considering the necessary to reveal it.

Janice stared at me patiently.

I gave in. I motioned for a pencil.

She handed it to me.

I took it in hand, held the pad up, and wrote three letters on the paper…

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

'A……..N……….A…….'

Raven finished her brush stroke.

She paused and looked at it.

"Ana……..," she breathed. She blinked off towards the horizon. "Who's Ana??"

A pause.

A brush of wind.

Raven's blue eyes twitched.

She looked up—her dark bangs swinging—and gasped.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

BOOM!!!

The apartment shook.

Janice jumped up.

So did I.

The picture of the blonde swordswoman drifted to the grimy floor between us.

Janice stammered. "The roof!!"

I looked towards my bed.

Myrkblade!

I dashed over, grabbed it, and blurred away.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Parents, tenants, children backed up on the rooftop, gasping.

From the side—in front of the neon sign—Ricky looked up. He his nose was bloated and infected. Still red. He snickered. By his side, a dozen black and brown androids stomped forward at attention. Their white eyes glowing.

"Guess who's back?!" he snickered. "And I remind you…there are still gangs in this town that recognize the power of Slade!" He hissed. "And when my friends and I don't like the lack of respect from this district of Town……neither does Slade."

The people murmured fearfully, eyeing the robotic henchmen who leered at them.

Ricky and a bunch of other gang members finished climbing up the side of the building and jumped down onto the rooftop. Together, they palmed bats and lengths of chain and knives. All the victims of a certain, ghostly hero's vigilante escapades.

And they were back with revenge and with help.

"Let's paint this place red!!" Ricky shouted.

The robots charged forward.

The people shrieked, cowered, and ran away.

The first in the line of Slade's androids reached for a little boy who had tripped. Razor sharp fingers.

SWOOOOSH—SLASH!!!

It's robotic arm was severed off.

After landing, I spun around with a vertical slash of Myrkblade.

The torso of the robot split in to. Pieces of sparking bolts and wires spilled out everywhere.

The human gang members gasped.

Ricky grit his teeth and pointed at me. "YOU!!!"

I glared at them, holding Myrkblade at ready.

"You think you own this town, punk. THERE ARE HIGHER POWERS AT WORK THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE!!!"

Mutterings.

Fearful cries.

The distant thunder of the L-Train.

I had spent well over a month turning this urban Hell into a Heaven.

I. Was. Not. Backing. Down.

I reached a free hand up and motioned for them to come.

Ricky's eyes widened…shocked.

Janice rushed up the stairwell and watched from the position of the other tenants and onlookers.

Another gang member marched up to Ricky's side and waved a baseball bat. "Nuts to you, shithead!! You can't take us all on at once!! Especially when we got Slade backing up the rulers of this block!!"

I glared. I motioned again.

"Be that way!!" Ricky shouted. "I'm gonna be sucking the blood from your severed neck! GET 'EM!!!"

They all charged.

Slade's robots first.

I gripped my shades and flung them hard to the ground.

Black eyes glistened.

The thugs shouted at the top of their lungs.

The robots raised razor-sharp claws.

I charged Myrkblade

The sword flickered with dark Destruction.

The two fronts converged in the center of the rooftop.

I held my breath…and blurred.

SW-SW-SW-SW-SW-SW-SWISH!!!!

My body spun, formed a human tornado, and slashed Myrkblade straight out in a monstrous spiral straight into the opposing rush of robots.

Sparking limbs, heads, and scraps of metallic skin flew.

Ricky gasped as I tore through the onslaught Slade had to offer, spun to a stop, and grabbed him by the collar.

He winced, expecting his head to come off.

Instead I kicked him hard into the rush of thugs coming my way.

WHUMP!!

"OOF!!

"UGH!!"

"DAMN IT!!"

No sooner, I dodged a lacerated swipe from one of the robots, backflipped, landed on the shoulders of a thug, and dove towards in a horizontal spin, hacking off two android arms and landed with a slide along the rooftop.

One severed limb slid with me.

As two thugs charged at me—throwing a bottle and a knife—I deflected their weapons, kicked the robotic limb up in the air, and batted it into their skulls.

CLANG!!

They fell down.

A robot jumped behind me and grabbed my shoulders.

I summoned murk, teleported behind it, and slashed it straight through the stomach.

CRUNCH!!!

With the robot skewered on my wooden blade, I let out a silent scream and charged at the throng of enemies.

The gang members dodged to the side, many tripping over each other.

The robots, I plowed through…and some I managed to knock over the side of the building so that they crunched to oblivion in the hard streets below.

Ricky came at me from behind with a baseball bat.

I shredded my sword out of the skewered robot and slashed at him.

Ricky screeched to a halt and suddenly looked at a baseball bat sliced in two. "Holy sh—"

I kicked him in the chest again and spun around just in time to ward off a handful of robots and chain-swinging thugs.

Janice and the other residents watched fearfully. Some cheered. Most gasped.

I slashed and I parried and I attacked and I defended the rooftop with all my might. But soon, even my energy was wearing down.

After slashing off a robot arm, one thug clipped me in the side.

I let out a gasp and slumped to my knees.

I winced. I looked up with twitching black eyes.

My neighbors watched me with jaws dropped. There were even some tears on their faces.

The people I protected.

Janice brought a hand to her cheek.

My black eyes widened.

I saw the blonde swordswoman for a second.

I gritted my teeth and, screamed silently, and blindly jabbed Myrkblade behind me just in time to slide through the groin of an incoming robot.

Janice cheered.

I exhaled, flipped backwards, and spiraled down with my blade shredding the robot in half. As I landed on the other side, the pile of metal split in two, and I fought through the urban army with renewed strength.

Two minutes later, half of Slade's henchmen were lying in pieces, and most of the thugs were either lying on the ground unconscious or running off.

But a good number still remained.

And I was out of breath.

I slumped down in the middle of the rooftop, gripping Myrkblade, panting……painting……panting……

Sweating.

Ricky got up, winced, and smirked. He walked forwards and pointed a switchblade at me.

I gritted my teeth.

"Know your god, freak," his eyes winced. "Know your god……"

"No!!" someone in the crowd shouted.

My ears pricked…for I heard something else in the air. In the cold night, something metallic was flying this way………

Swish-Swish-Swish-Swish-SWISH-SWISH-SWISH-CLANK!!!!

"AUGH!!" Ricky grabbed his hand as the blade was knocked violently out of his grasp. "What the?!"

The two of us looked at the projectile in question. It had imbedded in the floor of the rooftop. It was metal, curved, and shaped in the razor-edged likeness of a red bird.

"No……," Ricky shuddered.

Slade's robots looked up. "Teen Titans!! GO!"

A shadow swung down onto the roof. A caped shadow.

My jaw dropped.

Neon light cast upon the legendary Boy Wonder as he jumped and sailed a kick into Ricky's stomach.

"HIIIIIYA!!!"

WHUMP!!!

"OOF!!" Ricky flew off and landed in a pile of thugs in the distance.

Four more shadows descended. Some floating. Others stomping. All kicking ass. The thugs' ass. The robots' ass. Hell, my ego's ass.

The Teen Titans……

I jumped to my feet as I watched them engage the enemy from afar.

I spun around, holding Myrkblade.

The confused, concerned populace looked from them and back at me.

I sheathed Myrkblade and ran over, motioning them to head downstairs.

Janice got the idea. "Quickly!! This way!!" she pushed and guided the tenants down the stairwell.

People muttered and clamored for the exit.

I took the rear, guarding against any stray thug or robot that might try to attack a few stragglers.

I was the last to duck down in the stairwell. But before doing so, I got a good look at the battle. The beauty of it all. The wonder.

Not mine……

I smiled and slammed the door shut behind me.

This was a job for true heroes………

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

The sunset was getting late. The sky red. The traffic less and less dense.

I walked slowly along the sidewalk.

I listlessly glanced to my right.

Again, Starfire was walking next to me.

Again, she was smiling.

And again…….she was absolutely quiet.

And—to be honest—I couldn't have asked for more.

I smiled slightly and looked ahead. My heart skipped a beat.

The funeral home………

My path grew slower as we both walked by it. In fact, I almost stopped altogether. Starfire glanced curiously at me, full of innocent curiosity. She studied the front of the funeral home with round, green eyes.

I took a deep breath.

To form the common cliché, it did feel like yesterday.

I was about to go on my way when my eyes noticed the black marquis built into the side of the entrance as always. A huge gasp escaped my lips. A gasp big enough to startle even Starfire.

She almost said something…but even then, she held back for some important reason.

I rushed over to the marquis and red the white, plastic letters on it a second time…a third time…a fourth…

Starfire read over it. She glanced at me.

My heart was falling…plummeting. My face turned pale under the shades. I briskly—but quietly—stepped through the familiar doors of the funeral home and inside the lounge.

Starfire played catch up.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"You didn't even……say 'hi' to them……," Janice marveled.

The two of us stood at the end of a relieved group of tenants huddled in the hallway. Hours after the rooftop battle, and we were all still recovering. I had hidden myrkblade and was in the most casual attire I had afforded at that time. I blended right into the crowd. Nobody knew these black eyes except my closest neighbors.

"They came and saved us all……just like you did," she said. "They were so close……so close to another hero. And you didn't lift a finger to grab their attention!"

I blushed. I smiled, kicked at a bit of dust on a nearby staircase step and shrugged.

Janice smiled and shook her face. "Humble to the core. Lemme guess……you're just 'not ready' yet to grab their attention?"

I nodded. It was true.

"That's unfortunate," she lowered her eyes. She chuckled. "I suppose……as it stands……you're too dark and mysterious to join their ranks right now. Too shadowy. Too noir……"

I snapped my eyes up at her. I stared.

"What??" she giggled.

I smiled and mouthed 'Noir………'

"You like that word or something?"

I mouthed it again. I chuckled breathily.

"No matter," she sighed. "I'll be leaving soon," Janice said.

I mouthed 'Oh?'.

"Yeah…back to my parents place……," she smiled cutely and crossed her fingers. "Here's hoping."

I nodded with a grin.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

I walked numbly through the atrium of the funeral home. There was a service taking place. No casket this time…it must have been a cremation. Starfire softly padded behind me, but I paid no attention to her. My eyes and ears were tuned in on the eulogy as I took a seat in the back. My mouth still agape.

The man spoke in a podium, surrounded by pictures of a brown-haired teenager in various poses of happiness, smiles, and beauty. The people in attendance seemed rich. Preppy. Foreign to this City……

"It was Janice Kinnard's personal will to be honored in this City," the man spoke. "It was shortly after her return home to Westhaven from the Eastern District here in Town that she was diagnosed…and her last days were spent donating to AIDs funds around the state. She even invested her own…college funds. She wanted to be an artist…and family and friends say she drew with a genius never before seen. But before her brave last hours, she painted pictures much more beautiful than any pen or paintbrush could stroke. She painted with the generosity of her heart. And for such…we shall always remember her…"

About the time Starfire found a seat beside me, I had completely buried my face in my hands. I randomly peaked out through shaking hands and saw from under my shades Janice's frozen face. Her eternal smile. That bleakest of bleak existence that I once knew…that I once saved…like all the others I tried saving.

I took a deep shuddering breath.

Starfire looked at the eulogizer….the mourning people in the seats….the photos of some strange, lost girl…then she glanced at me.

My lips quivered. I sighed and stared up at the familiar ceiling of this haunted place where I once worked. And I thought about all the broken lives that once giggled and chased little red balls and shared fish stories around me. Urban ghosts dancing alone forever on abandoned rooftops in their own little microcosms, forgotten forever by all these freakin' people who live their lives not caring, not feeling, not wondering what it means to hurt and be hurt and want and be wanted and hunger and be hungered for…

All these emotions swam up inside me and met the damn blockade that had been clawing into my heart since the last three days. I hiccupped and looked over at Starfire, wounded.

And after hours of silence, the Tamaranian girl suddenly had the magic words to say.

"After Raven was….fixed….I expressed my deepest apologies to Robin," she whispered ever so politely. "And that is when I realized how silly it was to feel bad for everything. At times, I may hurt people…meaning to or not meaning to. But I cherish the fact that my one chief concern in life…my one focus on this lovely planet you call Earth is to protect others and maintain their lives above my own. No episodic possession…no demonic force is ever going to distract me from what my heart tells me is the truth that I fight for, no matter how violent the attack may have been."

My lips quivered. My eyes moistened as I looked at my fellow Titan.

Starfire smiled. "Forgive yourself, Noir…," she breathed. "The heavens bear witness…the rest of us have."

I shook my head. But everything was collapsing. Starfire had a face…she always had a face. That angelic look that preached to me in sickening soft screams the beautiful reality of a transient good that's so hard to touch and feel and see these days that I nearly plummet into the abyss of my own despair. Everything was shattered by her simple innocence and through a painfully beautiful hole my teammate reached to me and massaged the rough wounds out of my heart that Trigon had left.

And I cried. I cried because I realized once again as in so many times why I agreed to join the Titans in the first place. I was being born again…and it tore me apart.

I leaned on her gentle shoulder as she hugged me…and stained her jacket with my tears. She smiled, lowered her eyes, and stroked the back of her friend.

"Something tells me you saved her, Noir," she whispered. "Much like you have and will continue to save us…"

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Nighttime…

Raven sat in the kitchen unit of the Main Room. She sipped from herbal tea.

Robin wandered up behind her. He gave her a glance, then looked across the room at a sofa. He walked over and picked up a painting that was resting there. He studied it closely.

A beat.

"……….who's Ana?"

Raven took another sip, swallowed, and breathed: "I don't know."

Robin eyed the sword in the illustrated girl's grasp.

"Looks Noirish…."

"Mmmmhmmmm."

Silence.

Raven swiveled around. "Robin…," she asked.

The Boy Wonder put the painting down and looked at her. "Yes, Raven?"

She fought for words…fidgeted…then mumbled. "The Pacific Case…..did you ever stop researching it?"

Robin seemed surprised by that inquiry. "Well……I………uhm….."

"Did you?" she inquired more forcefully.

"Well….I started it when he first joined us but now….," his voice trailed. He cleared his throat. "D-Do you think….Raven…that we must go back to it?"

Raven looked at the painting. She looked past the blonde swordswoman and at the obscure specks of red on black. She sighed.

"Yeah…."

Robin solemnly nodded. "Okay….," he said quietly. "Tomorrow….first thing in the morning…..I'll get to it."

Raven lowered her eyes. "And I'll help you…."

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Starfire and I walked all the way home on the land bridge.

The stars shone over us.

I was deadpan.

At some point, Starfire smiled and hopped by my side, hooking her arm around mine.

I couldn't help it. I smiled at my friend.

She giggled, her eyes shut tight.

We went along in such a fashion towards the tall, glittering structure of the Tower.

But when almost at the doors, I turned around and stared across the Bay….across the City…at a distant speck of neon lights atop a run-down apartment building…

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Janice stopped at the stairwell.

She turned around with her backpack hoisted behind her shoulder.

She waved at me.

I waved from the hallway, smiling.

She giggled and trudged off…out the door……on her way home.

The darkness swallowed her gently up.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

On a cold night…when the wind howled……when the rooftop was empty…

A dark figure in a militaresque jumpsuit stepped up to the edge of the building side.

His eyes were solid black.

Hanging over his shoulders was an ornamental scabbard.

He pulled out a bandanna and tied it around his forehead, pinning down his long black hair that danced into the wind.

After a pause for breath and meditation, he whipped out a wooden sword—flickering with dark justice—and blurred down into the streets of the City.

A streaking shadow.

Mysterious and noir.