Song: The Batman | Michael Giacchino | WaterTower
POV: Bruce Wayne/Batman (?)
What he felt was rain coming down, pricking on his face, which he held as he felt a headache that would make him want to vomit as he stumbled a little. The sounds of thunder rumbling across the background. This felt eerily familiar to him. It almost felt like he came back to that very night, on the alleyway, when he was with his parents as he - the excited young nine-year-old that he was - jumped with joy. It was only a few moments away from the tragedy. He never imagined that the next few moments would be the last time he would see his parents. As gunshots came out, one, two, three. One hits his father, somewhere close to his heart. Two, hitting his mother's head and left lung.
"Bruce..." His father's voice echoed throughout his mind. "Don't be afraid."
That encouraging voice, was the one light that permeated the darkness that engulfed him in that very moment. Even as his headaches, his mind drawing blank, and his last memory being...the very moment he shot the gun, as the Dark God's Omega Beams cut through him, while he cut him down with a weapon designed against the latter (*1). His eye sight would clear a bit, along with a bit of his hearing. His body felt like stumbling a little.
"NO! STAY AWAY!"
His natural instincts kicked in. He heard a cry for help, in Japanese. A young woman, based on the inflection of her voice, probably somewhere around high school age. Clearing his head a bit, he looks towards his own body, and notices that he does not have his Batsuit on, and no holes in it that lead to his heart and right lung. No, they were formal clothing, of a blue jacket, with a green necktie. Touching a little of his pockets with his right hand, he could feel a wallet and phone. Looking instinctively at his left finger, he doesn't have the silver ring on his ring finger, with the initials "BUZZ". His hand's traces and patterns look odd and different. They weren't his own. The lines on the center were a little slant, compared to originally when it was full-on straight. A different body perhaps. It felt that way. He noticed that he seemed a little shorter than normal in terms of his height.
He looked to find a young woman - long curly brown hair with three green clips on the left side, wearing a high school uniform - maroon blazer, red necktie, dark blue skirt - getting dragged against her will, kicking and screaming as she got gagged by a pair of thugs, who all wore what appeared to be Jack-O-Lantern face masks covering their faces. Some of them had some weapons, though not too impressive. Knives, crowbars, sticks. Who were they? What gang are they affiliated with? He could not tell. Only hypothetical suspects - Scarecrow, etc. Whatever the case, he needed to act quickly.
"Hey, who are you supposed to be?!" One of the thugs shouted, pointing his knife at him.
He was a couple of meters away from the thugs, and he was closing the distance by walking slowly. The rain continued onward, as he inspected the various reactions of the thugs.
"I suggest that you all stop what you're doing and let the girl go," He spoke in Japanese, with the same intimidating inflection - testing his voice while dissuading the thugs, as he could tell that some of them were just young teenagers underneath the masks - Odd, he thought. This wasn't his natural voice. Though, he noted something. He could speak his natural tone as Bruce Wayne just fine, if he could mimic the right frequency pattern and speech. He would need to test and practice this for later.
He looked a little to the left, and saw the woman, looking at him with recognition. But why? He doesn't recall knowing this woman. In fact, something was not adding up. He was in the wrong location. Teleportation? Unlikely.
"Pfff-hehehe." The thugs simply laughed at what seemed like a foolhardy attempt to convince them to stand down. They didn't even look intimidated by the man in front of them, thinking it was just someone playing hero, and the "scary look" was just him looking tough in their opinion.
"Who the hell does he think he is? All Might? Come on, let's take care of this idiot and get the girl out of here."
So much for reason, he thought. Now, he didn't have his Batsuit to analyze the potential movements of who would strike first. But he had already been honing this skill long before he had most of his newly specialized gadgets and equipment. His eyes were sharp, as he looked to who was the nearest. There!
A simple step. A few more steps made him like a blitz to the individual thug that was nearest, first taking the thug down by kicking the young man, sending him crashing, and calculating a light concussion as the impact arose. Then follows the second thug that was nearby, dislodging his knife away by slanting the wrist before putting his hands in a locked position and using the force of the thug's body to send him hurling through his other comrades through a kick. The body has commendable physical skills at least. He could tell from the kicking power of his feet that this body felt naturally attuned to that of a soccer player.
The thugs were now starting to take this a little seriously, but the third thug that was nearby was too late in responding, getting kicked in the face, specifically in the lower chin, before getting knocked out by a mean right hook. Then the man swings back and takes another thug down, first by hitting his solar plexus, then proceeds to judo flip him upside down and knock him out.
The man would flip back as he evaded a knife strike. By the time the thug turns around, he can feel his pressure points to his neck and chest sending him numb, collapsing on the ground.
"Who the hell is this guy?!" One of the thugs exclaims, looking troubled as he bears witness to some of the thugs getting manhandled by...a teenager?
"Who cares! Shoot him down!" The other thug exclaims as he is holding the tied-up gagged woman, who looks on in amazement and shock.
But the man heard him, and just as he was about to grab his gun, he brought a crowbar from the ground up using his feet and sent it hurling toward the man's wrist, causing him to drop the gun in pain, which allowed him to dashed forward and took the thug down, with a simple kneecap to the face.
"Sta-Stay back!" He turns to find a thug raising a knife to the tied-up gagged woman, who looks at the knife with extreme stress, and was that slight annoyance? He thought. Not a moment too soon, the woman would use her feet to kick the man's leg, causing him to grunt, which allowed the man the opening he needed. First, he dashed forward, taking the knife from the thug who let go of the woman, and punching him with a hard right hook before giving him a few uppercut and downward punches, before finishing with a blow to the chest, sending the thug to an unconscious state, lying on the wall.
Immediately, he turns towards the woman who is lying on the ground, grunting a bit. He crouches down to inspect her. "Hold on, I've got you," He began to remove the ropes that would be tied to her wrists before removing her gag, revealing a relieved breath.
"Shinichi!"
When she was free, the first thing she did was embrace him, expressing relief, and a little bit of tears that were buried underneath his shoulder, complimenting the rain came down.
"...I'm glad, I'm glad you're here."
"..."
He did not know what was happening. Shinichi? That wasn't his name. Could this be the name of the person whose body he's currently inhabiting?
Something isn't right here. The man thought. The very last thing I could recall was Darkseid shooting me down with his Omega Beams before I took him too with a...gun. The next moment...I'm here in some alleyway that's probably on the other side of the world - if I'm even on my world at all. I'm going to need some answers. But where do I find it?
He looks down at the girl who is crying a bit. It was a very familiar scene for him to experience. There were times when he needed to comfort people who had gone through terrible ordeals - and if he hadn't been there, he sometimes shuddered about what could have become of them.
Like Jason Todd... (*2)
Even when his...son was alive, it simply didn't change the fact that in one sense, it was truly his fault that his son would die. He let a madman like the Joker loose for so long, and tried so long to find a way to get him to see the light, for whatever reason.
"No," The Joker once said to him, when he offered him redemption. "I'm sorry but...it's far too late for that." (*3)
And he believed it. He was far too gone. He knew that. But he still kept trying to save him. Eventually...time catches up. Jason was the final straw. He didn't kill the Joker. Rather, the people of Gotham were incited by Jason's death, eventually forcing the government to enact the death penalty which had been a long time coming, after being delayed for decades. It took the death of his son to finally see the downfall of one irredeemable soul.
Why would Batman still try to save someone as bad as him?
Perhaps, if he could, he would have set that soul free. He could see it, the grief of losing everything. He knew that pain all too well, the kind of destruction that could bring - both to oneself and to others around them, and he wanted to help this demented yet wounded soul. Misguided perhaps? Debatable. Perhaps he had been trying to grab whatever was left of the clown's own humanity, a shred or fraction that had been left, before it was too late to salvage anything. But it seems that even in death, the clown would simply laugh, in resignation.
He failed. Twice.
But...
As he raised his arms, and gently patted the crying woman, a common thought - of how others still needed a hand to be raised. Even if they believed it was too late, he would defy the notion. Even if the darkness now had them at its clutches, he would wrench it, becoming that darkness, that symbolized his pain, his longing, his desire to help relieve the burden. Instead of focusing it on himself, he used it to help others. All of the training he personally undertook, had the goal of wanting to prevent what had happened to him happened to others, and how someone could be there to share that pain, especially to those misunderstood.
Thunders continue to rumble as he turns to the night skies, shrouded in grey clouds. His voice - silence. Yet it spoke something more.
He did not know where he was. He did not know why he was here. He didn't believe in fate or coincidence. He simply knew one thing.
This was another world for him. Was it literal? Who could say? The only thing he could decipher where that a.) He didn't have his original body, nor have his Batsuit on him, and probably was in another body, by some unknown circumstances that he has yet to fully determine; b.) This woman seems to know him. That would have to be the first start. He'd ask the woman questions, but he would save it for later; c.) He at least has a phone and a wallet, hence determining the identity of this "Shinichi" as the woman called him would be easier.
"...Excuse me," His voice took a gentler tone, with the woman slowly raising her eyes a bit. "Perhaps we should take cover over there and not drench ourselves with the rain like this." He nodded his face towards the open garage door that had boxes and other equipment scattered.
"Uh...Uhmm, right," The woman wipes her tears a bit, nodding before walking towards the garage area. The man would look down at the various thugs that lay on the floor. It's not wise to simply leave them like that, he thought. He would have to tie them all up, and fortunately for him, there were a few ropes that he could see in the garage area.
"Listen," The man would walk towards the woman. "Do you have a phone?"
"Ye-Yes," The woman nodded.
"Then, I'd like to ask you to contact local authorities while I tie up a few loose ends," He suggested.
The woman understood, looking firmly. "Alright, Shinichi." Before she grabbed her phone from her shirt pocket.
There it was again. Shinichi. That wasn't his name. This young girl was probably close to the man whose body he was currently inhabiting.
Looking a little towards his wallet, he would see an ID. A name.
Kudo Shinichi
Teitan High School
Class 1-A
Age: 16
His eyes narrowed. A Japanese high schooler. Blue eyes. Black hair, with a cowlick-like style. Smiling yet overconfident. Dangerously naïve yet competent. Without the naivety, it reminded him a bit of his Robins - his sons. That's what he could tell from the picture. Searching further, he would find some type of calling card.
Private Detective and Police Consultant
No: 1891
(*4) 1891, he thought. If I'm not overthinking this, that's the date that Sherlock Holmes fell from Reichenbach Falls, as described in the account - 'The Final Problem'. Hypothetically, this suggests that this person - Shinichi Kudo - could have some fondness for Sherlock Holmes. However, this detail wouldn't let me surmise the situation. I need more data.
After searching for more things in his wallet, one of which was an amusement park ticket that had the words "Tropical Land", he noticed another picture. It had a picture of him and a young woman, probably around the same age as him. Bluish-purple eyes. Black hair with straight and hip-length style. Keeping the wallet in his pocket, he grabs a phone. It had the words 'Suzuki' on the cover.
It has a password. He thought. And if my hypothetical theory of him having some fondness for Holmes is correct, then...
He typed a few numbers. 1653. Holmes' birthday. He got access. That makes things simple. Before he would browse the contents, first, he would need to tie up the crooks and prevent their escape.
As he walked towards the crooks while carrying the ropes, he immediately noticed something off.
"...!"
He looked forward, to the right, as a flash of thunder would peel, allowing him to get a glimpse of someone standing underneath the rain. Beautiful, fair skin, with a thigh-length of light bubblegum pink hair, tied in small buns on each side of the head, with the left side decorated with white lace around it, along with a red plaid patterned ribbon.
Her eyes were crimson-colored. Yet...they hide something else. Darkness. Despair. Madness.
He glanced a bit at the woman in the garage who was following instructions for a bit. For a fraction of a second, he noticed the pink-haired girl running to another direction, disappearing as he stood.
Who was that? He thought.
Somehow. He knew that whoever this woman was, she would be a problem later.
OP Song: THE BATMAN 2004 SERIES SEASON 1 INTRO HD
Trivia For Chapter:
(*1) - A reference to the comic events of Final Crisis, a crossover storyline that appeared in comic books published by DC Comics in 2008, primarily the seven-issue miniseries of the same name written by Grant Morrison.
(*2) - A reference to Batman: Under the Red Hood, a 2010 American animated direct-to-video superhero film directed by Brandon Vietti, directly derived from the Batman storyline "Under the Hood".
(*3) - A reference to Batman: The Killing Joke, a 1988 DC Comics one-shot graphic novel featuring the characters Batman and the Joker written by Alan Moore and illustrated by Brian Bolland.
(*4) - For those who aren't aware, Sherlock Holmes actually existed in DC as a real person in-universe.
Story Incorporation Trivia: Even after retiring by the turn of the 20th Century, Holmes would survive well into the 21st Century, due in large part to Oriental meditation techniques and clean living. He had long since quit smoking tobacco and only carried his trademark calabash pipe as a memento. Batman had met him sometime during the early days of his career, and they along with Elongated Man and Slam Bradley, would work together on a case that came to be known as the "Doomsday Book" case.