Chapter 33, everybody! Hopefully the last one I have to post on my laptop for a while I think I got my big computer functioning again so…here's hoping.

Moving on to the fic: yes Obake is a drama queen about SFAI and the eternal rivalry SFIT has with them he's Like That. In other news, Honey Lemon breaks too easily under pressure and Obake is willing to exploit this.

Also…yes a house can get stolen and not in the fraudulent way either—there's a house down the road that is forever the house that got moved, one of the older gentlemen in our neighborhood told us about a bootlegger and his friends turning a house around to evade the feds, and if you catch me in a real good mood I can regale you with the story of how Mom left her abusive first husband with naught but an empty lot. XD

So…I headcanon Obake as asexual to the point that when Trina addressed him as father and then was revealed as a robot my reaction was akin to the dagger being revealed in The Emperor's New Groove. Granted this makes TT!Obake kind of questionable to OG!Obake, but that allows me to sneak in some Season 2 stuff. ;)

Moving on, I have my suspicions for why the gang goes to Mole's comic book shop when Fred doesn't have a comic and it's a bit more than just Fred being a glutton for punishment. Also yes there's eight million people in the Bay Area as per the 2010 US census—looked that up for a fanfic in 2019 and it's stuck with me ever since. Just haven't really revisited that fic to work on because I did a lot of theorizing on pandemics and how people would react and looking up what the CDC considered the minimum numbers for an epidemic…yeah last time I reread what I had written apparently I had gotten dodgeballed hard and also Cassandra'ed for good measure (people ask why I didn't really react to the Great Pause of 2020? Because I had already done my research and detected the BS). Also there's a difference between capitalism and corporate consumerism and that is the latter has a lot of the government sticking its fingers in there.

I like to sleep at night in regards to an offered murder weirdly comes from my Mom—my parents have led eventful lives. Also Fred is more than ready to have a National Treasure adventure. And yes rewatching Spider-Man 2 after watching "Countdown to Catastrophe" had me inwardly screaming because yes these are the same beats. Also as Detective Pikachu said: "I push people away and then resent them for leaving!" Obake. And yes in the BH6-verse Steve Irwin is alive and well and still telling animals how gorgeous they are. Also Tadashi would know how to balance plates on his arm since I'm pretty sure he helps out in the café and waiters need to know this sort of thing (I too know this by dint of Mom showing me, since she too was in the waitressing/hostessing business). Not sure if Fred's pool was ever shown in canon but I've seen it in fanfics before so we're going with it.

Big Hero 6 © 2014 Disney

Under normal circumstances, as a proper SFIT alumni, Obake wouldn't ever set foot on SFAI property unless it was to do property damage.

Fortunately, his planned activities today included just that.

It still didn't keep his skin from prickling as he entered the campus and trotted down the paths winding through it, more touchy-feely foresty than anything else and it was very annoying, not the clean feng shui of SFIT. Just—in, out, on with life, preventing this crucial action before it could come to a head. And, you know, if stealing the journal didn't work out it wouldn't be the first time he blew up a campus—

"Hey!" a familiar voice barked. "Obake? What are you doing here?"

Wait what—

Oh…right…Honey Lemon had been attending SFAI as well in the original timeline. Said chemist was looking confused—better turn this on her before she could pry too far.

"I could ask you the same question," he countered—was pleased to note that she started squirming at that. Yes indeed, she was too nice to try and press the issue, would probably be confessing soon.

"Ah…s-so I've actually been—it started when I did a showcase and—fine I'm attending at SFAI too please don't tell anyone," she finished in a rush.

Blink. "I literally do not care," he told her. "Certainly not enough to tell anyone."

She immediately brightened. "Oh thank you—"

"No hugging," he said, sidestepping her attempt. "And as a professional courtesy, you don't tell anyone I was here either."

She blinked at him. "Ah…what are you doing here?"

"Nothing worth noting," he said, walking off.

No dice, she was following him now. "Ah—this isn't—you're not helping everyone get ready for Spirit Week, are you? I was really hoping I could talk them out of it—"

"You don't have the power to stop that," he informed her. And honestly he was hoping to get this done well before then. "And no, that's not why I'm here."

"Then why are you here?" she asked.

Sigh—it was doubtful he'd be getting rid of her now, she was too annoyingly concerned.

"Remember the painting that got stolen?" he asked her. "I wanted to come here and see about Shimamoto's house."

She made a face at that. "I don't think her house is getting stolen…but there's stuff in there and it's getting renovated…come on, this way."

Okay, not sure what to make of her taking his hand and tugging him along, but it got him to the house faster and past the gatekeeper-type people, so he was chalking that one up as a win.

"Oh Honey Lemon!" a guy greeted once they were in. "And one of your subjects! I recognize him from the paintings!"

"Do. What," Obake said flatly.

"Ah—er, it's nothing," she tried, waving him off.

"Don't be so modest, they're beautiful," the guy said. "Moved me to tears—and then I mixed those tears with ink to make a poem—"

"It's really too early in the morning for me to be committing homicide," Obake said flatly.

"Ah—we really er—Obake wanted to see the house and I was curious about how the renovations were going," Honey Lemon said quickly.

"Oh they're going wonderfully," the guy said, too dim to pick up on the threat to his life. "Come on, I'll give you the quick tour—wait you have to put hard hats on—"

They did so, Obake lightly bouncing on the floor in the living room—beneath them was Shimamoto's hidden lab, and—

And he just realized that he didn't actually know how to get in. He had tried looking, had been unintentionally thwarted, and then the nerd gang had been the ones to open it. When he finally reached it, it was already open and something he chalked up to good fortune.

On the one hand, that spun around and bit him right now. On the other…he didn't know how to get in either.

But he suspected, which meant he'd have to figure out a way to get to that journal eventually.

But how?

So Momakase had been a good investment, getting that painting with minimum fuss, was happy to be turned loose with naught but the admonition she answer his calls. Certainly seemed open to further schemes.

But she had also left him with some confusing statements—hence his accessing the museum's security feed and combing through it. Let's see, she said some kid had snatched the painting clean off the wall…right there.

Scowl as he tracked the kid, finally found an angle where he got a good look at the face, expanded the image and cleaned it up…scowl deepened when he realized it matched the description she had given him: same face and eyes, about yea high, much younger.

Well he knew that the sort of thing that would usually produce such a thing hadn't happened, he wasn't for dalliances and had never been that drunk…what was this then? Cloning? There was that new company that had made its way to San Fransokyo….

Well. He had plans to supervise Krei Tech, he just supposed this gave Momakase a bit more to do. Call her up, give her the details, have the chips ready when she swung by again.

By this time, he had facial recognition scouring the city for this little brat.

Momakase scanned the screens when she stepped in, gave him an amused look. "So I'm guessing the kid is important?"

"Let's go with annoyance for now," he said, handing her the chips. "Krei Tech, Sycorax. I'm sure I don't have to tell you to avoid being detected."

"I would be insulted if you did," she responded, pocketing the chips and giving him a little salute as she left. Having seen her work, he expected access by sunrise.

In the meantime….

Turn his attention back to the screens, scowling.

I don't know who you are, or what you're up to, he thought, eyeing the image of the boy lifting the painting. But you and I are destined to have words.

Obake planned to have words with Fred. Several of them. Big ones.

"Fred, what are we doing here?" he asked finally.

"It's called field research," Fred said, consulting a list before browsing the shelves of the comic book store they were in. "I'm hoping to find a few articles that I failed to snipe online."

"And the reason we're here, in your so-called arch-nemesis's store, is?"

"My dude I'm glad you remembered the arch-nemesis thing—I suspect that Mole is the one undercutting me. I told you about what happened with Issue 188 of Captain Fancy, right?"

"He cut the power to your house," Obake repeated duly. Wait Mole—"This idiot doesn't have any relation to Binky Mole, does he?"

"I think she's his aunt—maybe his mom, I try not to inquire into the fam."

"So my next question is still why are we here—it's San Fransokyo. There's eight million people in the bay area." That he had planned on totally erasing and was now suspecting that his current situation was punishment for that attempted mass murder. "Surely there's at least one other comic book store."

"You would think. Unfortunately, Mole likes to buy up comic book stores and land and shut down whoever and there's a limit on how many businesses I'm allowed to buy a year."

Ah, corporate consumerism at its worst. "You know, there is the permanent solution."

"I'm guessing from the italics I heard that the permanent solution involves less-than-kosher stuff."

"I promise I'll make it look like an accident, it'll never trace back to you."

"My dude I like to sleep at night."

"Fred, this is torture—this is literally torture."

"Fred!?" Richardson Mole squawked.

"Ohgeez—run!" Fred said, grabbing Obake and taking off.

Yes, Obake was certain he was being punished at this point.

Fred was outlining a new battle plan on the limo ride back to the Lucky Cat, Obake barely paying attention.

"I mean from what I can extrapolate now from the online synopses—synopsises? How do you say that?"

"'Synopses,'" Obake said.

"Right—from what I can extrapolate from those I can guess at what they'd bring to the table—it'd just be really nice to confirm. How are we on the whole story, by the way?"

It took Obake a few beats to place that, his ill-thought-out attempt at getting a second opinion. Should have really stuck with his own, in retrospect.

"Those waypoints of canon you told me about," he said, sitting up. "I think I figured them out."

"Excellent, excellent—oh wait I think I saved that to my notes—right here," he said, pulling up the information on his phone. "A painting, a journal, and an energy amplifier. One of these things is not like the other. Also why does dynamo have a question mark next to it?"

"Whether or not the dynamo is included is dependent upon the other three," Obake explained. "If any one of those other three are kept from happening, then there's no point to stealing the dynamo because there's nothing to power."

"But the energy amplifier is still important?"

"Yes—the dynamo might help power everything, but the amplifier is what makes the project go."

"So what is the project? And why is the painting and journal important?"

"You remember the painting that got stolen, correct?" he asked. "My thought is, what if there was something hidden behind the painting?"

"Like the secret map on the back of the Declaration of Independence!" Fred said excitedly, pointing at him.

"The main difference is, City Rises had absolutely no security on it."

"Yeah my dude I still can't believe you just lifted it and tried to walk out."

"I had a point to prove," he said stiffly, still sore about the fact that Momakase was the one who stole it—figures he would team up with the competent one early. "So. Since Shimamoto is linked to the painting, my postulation is what if she were a scientist?"

"My dude, that would really weird out the whole relations between SFIT and SFAI—OOH! What if one of the clues is hidden on the Shimamoto statue we steal every year?"

"Pretty sure someone would have noticed by now," Obake observed drily.

"Ah, but see, you can't find the clue unless you find the other clues first—and since the first clue is hidden in City Rises…."

"I'm not so sure that's where this story is going."

"My dude we have got to get you watching National Treasure I'm telling you you'd like it. Maybe next Friday?"

"Master Fredrick, you have that Kentucky Kaiju party scheduled next Friday," Heathcliff pointed out.

"Oh right—ooh hey I know we're taking you home but can I borrow you for like five minutes? Gotta show you this really cool thing I bought."

"So long as it's not like that painting of yours," Obake said, rankling at Fred's wording—yes he was living there and yes he wanted it to be that….

It was just he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve it and to ensure its survival he wouldn't be around to enjoy it either.

"My dude I promise it'll be awesome," Fred said, flopping back in his seat and totally oblivious to Obake's dour mood. "Ooh wait—so the painting is a clue to some fantastic thing—what about the journal? Is the journal related to the painting?"

Blow out a short breath—right. Focus on this, on figuring out how to at least ensure all this survived.

"It is," he told Fred. "The idea is there's blueprints behind the painting, for a perpetual energy device—the journal has notes on it, so technically it just makes constructing it easier, but it's still important."

"Ooh that sounds awesome," Fred said, tapping this out in his phone. "So perpetual energy device…did the villain dude want it to power some doomsday device?"

Sort of, if you wanted to be basic about it. "It's a star machine—it creates a…relatively small star which—due to the issues with fission technology—destabilizes and wipes out the city. At least until the hero squad stops it."

"Big Hero Six," Fred said—oh good grief he had been paying attention. "So it's kind of like Doc Ock's machine from Spider-Man 2?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Okay that's going on the watch list too. So in that movie they end up drowning it—is that how superhero-us stops the machine?"

Huh. Good to know he had been derivative. "Yes, actually—attempts to stop it before it became self-sustaining failed, so it was drowned in the bay. I'm thinking the life-sized kaiju we were talking about is involved, we should probably make it so we can examine feasibility."

"That's still super-tempting and I am totally willing to make the life-sized kaiju for research and entertainment purposes," Fred said. "I like the bit about it being self-sustaining, nice dramatic tension. But this is the stuff that happens in the original timeline, right? What happens on the second time around?"

Good question. "Well the energy amplifier is out of the picture," he said as the limo pulled into the garage. "The…protagonist, for lack of a better word, managed to get it first and hide it. Unfortunately, the painting was obtained by the antagonist, so now it's just down to the journal."

"Is this the real life writing the fic again?" Fred asked. "Because I wouldn't mind rewriting last night if it's all the same to you."

Couldn't help but think of everything that went down after the painting had been taken, of Tadashi yelling, of his fight with Hiro, of Cass trying to be understanding. "Yes, well…so would I."

In all honesty, he hated the way he hesitated outside of the garage. He was Obake, a terrifying supervillain, he had no business balking at some child.

He had every right to balk this child had been his end—

Shiver, force himself to step forward, into the garage—grimace at Hiro's scowl, staying focused on his computer…deep breath as he dragged a chair over and sat down next to him.

"We've established that I'm no good at apologies," Obake started.

"Did you want something?" Hiro demanded, cutting him off. "Because I think I remember you saying something about not being needed."

Okay that cut a little sharper than he would have liked. "You don't, though," he told him. "You'd do just fine without me in your life." Was probably happily toasting his death in the original timeline stop that—

Hiro rounded on him. "That's not your decision, Obake!" he snapped. "You don't get to decide for other people—you don't get to decide whether or not they want you around! You just can't do that!"

Blink owlishly, trying to process this as a fuming Hiro went back to his computer. That—no. If he knew he'd feel entirely differently, how he felt now was predicated on a lie. Deep breath—

"I'm used to people not wanting me around," he told Hiro. "It's…just simpler to work from that assumption." You didn't want me around either—I was a thorn in your side at best and your tormentor at worst you had every right to hate me—

"If we didn't want you around we wouldn't have invited you to stay," Hiro said, tone brittle.

He looked away. "That was…honestly a surprise." And something he suspected came from pity.

Hiro looked at him, eyes still squinty from emotional hurt. "So you figure you'll just sabotage it so you stay right about being alone?"

"I—" Tried to think of a counter to that, had to admit that—no, no he wasn't right there were reasons he just couldn't explain them—

Hiro turned to better face him. "You can't sabotage relationships and then get mad when people don't stick around, and you definitely can't sabotage this and then get upset when I get mad. It's not that people don't want you around—it's that we want you around and you're so—so terrified of that that you'll do whatever you can think of to ruin it! You suck, you know that, right?"

"I'm aware," he muttered, glancing away again.

"Then stop doing it," Hiro said. "You had something good fall right in your lap, why are you being so weird about this?"

Oh ask a simple question why don't you.

"I…can't explain it," he said finally, looking anywhere but at him. "I don't think I could ever explain it. But…." Deep sigh. "I'm sorry. I can't guarantee improvement, but…I'd like to move on from this."

"Subject change?" Hiro asked, arms crossed and not sounding over it.

"If you don't mind."

Deep sigh. "I forgive you," Hiro muttered. "Only because being mad sucks." Look at him. "Did Fred tell you he bought the prop squid from Ika Yaju?"

"I had the joy of seeing it," Obake said. "Thirteen people to operate it seems a bit much."

"Well yeah, but that's because they didn't have us making it," Hiro said, sounding less fragile. "I think he's trying to subtly hurry us along on the squid."

"We'll be needing something to test the remora on anyway," Obake said. "How's that coming?"

Twitch around his mouth, like he was trying not to smile. "Well I got it started, at least," he said, tugging a box over and pulling things out. "I'm not sure if I should have like, a little motor here so it can catch one of the sharks or if I should stick with regular fish locomotion."

"Try both and see which one is faster. What about the taser?"

"Well I figure if it's out of the water it won't zap the shark, so it has to be that the shark's been pulled out of the water and is panicking…should probably fire from here," he said, turning the drone over and pointing at the belly. "I was thinking the fins here but I was also thinking of attaching them to motors so it could swim faster."

"So this could be a third form of locomotion to test. What about the front fins?"

"Those are for steering."

Hmm. "A compartment opening would run the risk of leaking…you could double up on one of the fins, but that runs the risk of drag or tangling up in the shark's tail."

"What if we had it springloaded? Like it pops out if it's been like…a minute without being scanned or something, and then it cuts off so it doesn't tangle up the shark, and it sends a distress signal and location so people know what happened." Point at the eyes. "I'm putting the cameras here so maybe it can send a picture of the guys too."

"I suppose the only issue is accidentally electrocuting Steve Irwin."

"Steve Irwin would never haul a shark out of the water."

"Or fishers who accidentally pull up a shark with the rest of the catch."

"Those guys throw the shark back in," Hiro said, tugging his blueprints back out.

"My next question is how do you know so much about sharks?"

"Tadashi watches Shark Week."

As if the comment summoned him, Tadashi stuck his head in. "Hey, is everything okay out here? Are we good now?"

"Go away," Obake said.

"We're busy," Hiro said.

"Oh yeah, we're good again," Tadashi said, coming down with several plates balanced on his arm. "Did you tell him that Fred said we can use his indoor pool to test the fish?"

"Fred has an indoor pool?" Hiro squawked.

"I know, right?" Tadashi asked, putting a plate in front of Obake. "I asked why and he said not as many leaves and bugs get in that way."

"Fred wants us to test this in his indoor pool," Obake repeated.

"Yeah—he mentioned the koi pond too but he figured that'd stress the fish."

"Maybe when we're done making sure everything works we can put it in the koi pond to see if they accept the robot one," Hiro suggested after their moment of silence.

"So I've been thinking about it and you're basically making a Terminator fish."

"The difference is this one won't overthrow all fish-kind and bring about Judgement Day."

It was nonsense, still with a small undercurrent of tension, but improving. The loss of the painting was still raw, with everything rubbing sandpaper into it—it would be far better to cut his losses and keep these kids safe.

But at the same time….

A look of pain, horror and disgust—he could see that he was losing the boy, had to convince him before he slipped through his fingers—

A look of pain, anger and disgust—he could see that he was losing the boy, couldn't convince him because the truth was too baffling to believe.

Sigh, debating. If he left and stopped all this, it was with the knowledge that he lost everything he was fighting for. If he stayed, he put everyone at risk.

"No—third vote, third vote—you agree with me, right?" Hiro demanded of Obake.

"While usually I enjoy antagonizing the golden boy, I'm starting to feel used," he said, taking another bite of dinner and smirking at both brothers protesting his comment.

He couldn't go back to the silence, he realized.

So I don't, he thought. I'll figure this out. I can make this work.

I cannot afford to let him win.