You're only a weakness
Stop getting in the way
You're not suited for any of these anymore
Can't you see
Just stop dreaming already
"We don't need you."
* * *
"Mr. Boboiboy," the teacher called, a stack of papers in his hands as the classroom was veiled in ominous silence. The sun from outside shone into the classroom through the crystal-like window panels, light lying on the students' desks like an intangible layer.
The students craned their head towards the named student, searching for his familiar bush of brown hair and infamous albino streak. The said teen pursed his lip, his hands firm by his sides as he stood, the chair rattling as it was pushed backwards, the piece of plastic furniture barely colliding with the table that belonged to another student that resided behind him.
He rose to his full height—which wasn't, to be honest, the slightest bit admirable—and lifted his feet, heading towards his teacher as the class's combined eyes stared him down, as if he was heading towards a trip of no return.
As the teacher's gaze fell on the short brunet, the final paper in his hand was given, the fragile piece of parchment bending under the gentle pressure of his thumb.
His stern expression melted into a faint smile, and he handed the report towards the young teen in pride. Corresponding to his mentor's kind smile, Boboiboy's lips lifted in an arch, eyes brightening as he read the results after accepting his report card.
Guess all that hard work paid off.
* * *
We have to find him
He's the only one who can use this
Where should we start
Kuala Lumpur
* * *
"We can't find him among so many humans!" Fang exclaimed, wasting no time attracting attention towards him. However, despite the flowing crowds of humans, not much paid him much of a thought.
The scorching sun basked them in heat and glow, their clothing visible ill-suited for busy city streets. Crowds of people littered the street, pavement and crossing roads, making it nearly impossible for one to slow down.
They walked down the pavement, an array of colourful shops passing by their left. The road was busy with traffic on the right, with no rails to stop anyone from falling onto the lion's mouth, yet no one seemed alarmed as they continued to proceed with their strolls of urgency or staring at their devices.
Silence was a partner in their life, something they were used to, but the city? It was busy, it was noisy, but it was cold. Even back home or at the station, no words were exchanged but the atmosphere was warm and familiar. The city was bursting with words and people, but there was simply no life.
The people there were surviving; not living.
With every step, Ying began to shrink. Her hands unknowingly were pressed by her sides rightly, her back stiff and straight, feet light on the ground with each step. Everyone around them acted as if they were judging her every move. Anxiety seeped into her stomach as her fingers clenched, as if every little detail gained the humiliation of being the odd one out.
She hated the city.
Soon they decided that their combat attire was attracting too much attention. Everywhere they went, gazes were cast their way and unheard whispers amongst strangers were noticed. They were standing out from the crowd, which would make their conquest easier or harder, considering that the person they were looking for had been damaged emotionally by them before. They just weren't sure to what extent.
Finally Yaya decided to take the team clothes shopping. For the record, they were fortunate that space credits were universal. They were also known as gold coins, which was a rather common mineral in the galaxy. they hid their regular clothing in their paper bags, swapping their uniforms with shirts and jeans. Fang also bought a pair of new red-framed decorative glasses for himself.
When they exited the shop, things got a little better. Ying removed her beanie and let go of her hair so she wouldn't stand out more. Yaya's hijab was a regular, pink clothed one.
"I hate Earth," Fang murmured, pulling at the fabric of his black shirt. It was the only piece that had penguins on it. "I never had this problem on other planets."
"Pulau Rintis is just empty, that's all," Yaya reasoned. "We're not as advanced as the city."
"Advanced?" Fang snorted. "Compared to where I come from, this is the Stone Ages."
They settled into a restaurant for lunch. It wasn't Tok Aba's, but they had to make do. The restaurant they chose was a Western one, with the marble tiles patterned like mahogany, the air-conditioning cooling and the windows that reached from the floor to the ceiling. There was a glass display of cakes and desserts by the counter, the area not yet occupied for it wasn't lunch rush. Overall, it resembled a décor from the Western continents.
The waiter who took their food was nice. He had black hair and wore a consistent uniform of a bartender's uniform, though he was on the short side. He was nice, took their orders and left to the kitchen.
Unlike Tok Aba's, the food was served with more appearance than quality. The food itself was decent, but it could have been better if the chefs didn't spend all their time decorating the tomatoes right next to cucumbers, because who doesn't care about colour palettes in your spaghetti? It's simply a nightmare when pasta is served with the wrong shade of sauce. It's supposed to be cherry red, not ruby red.
With their stomachs full and the anxiety blurred, they had time to construct a plan. They went to Starbucks and talked over cups of steaming hot chocolate, but there were no leads. Boboiboy had deactivated his tracker long ago, and he had no powers. Not only were they supposed to find one person in a sea of cities, they had next to no clue.
Then they remembered they had the power of technology and Facebook by their side. After some searches and some questionable methods that involved tin foil, cameras and a helicopter, which is a joke, they managed to locate their newest lead, a nearby high school near their district. But by now, the school's definitely closed and they had to wait until tomorrow. As much as they dwelled in the alien universe, they did not want a crime record on Earth that included breaking into random schools to kidnap a student.
This meant they had to find a place to stay, which was quite simple since the city had tons of hotels. All they needed was to book rooms online and use Kaizo's identity for a front, since they weren't of age yet. Fang would pay back Kaizo when they return.
The hotel room was average, and they shared two rooms. They were connected with a bathroom, so it's basically a warzone separated by a wall whenever someone's using the bathroom for a minute too long.
Fang: "FOUR-EYES, IT'S MY TURN TO THSE THE DAMN SHOWER!"
Ying: "SHUT THE FUCK UP, HEDGEHOG HAIR!"
Yaya: "WATCH YOUR FUCKING LANGUAGE!"
Gopal: "What the frick-frack snickity-snack frick, bro."
Everyone else: "... what the fuck, dude?"
Either way, a game of monopoly proved to be hazardous to their health, since Ying and Yaya were competitive even in the smallest of details. UNO was even worse, since Fang and Ying were just smiting each other to no end. In all of this, Gopal was just trying to stay out of the drama while eating the snacks that the hotel sold in their rooms. Their wallets will feel that when they get their room service bill.
* * *
Fang never liked the nights.
As ironic as it was, as pitiful it might seem—he was afraid of the dark. It's not as simple as the absence of light, it was the disappearance of hope and dreams. It was something much more personal.
He snuck out. His feet brushed against the roughness of the room's carpet, his pyjamas' fabric alarmingly alerted on his skin, and his eyes blinked as he adjusted to the dark, with the room door's frames still lit, for the corridors outside had yet to extinguish and the city was still alive.
In the dark, he stealthily approached the shopping bags from earlier and dug into them, careful to reduce the sound of crinkling paper in the room to avoid waking Gopal. His hand felt around fabric and equipment as he searched for his communicator.
Through the pile of fabrics, he managed to fish the communicator out, though the crystal blue screen was blinking, indicating a call was asking to transmit. He set the volume to a minimum and accepted the transmission, which soon revealed a three-dimensional hologram of the commander and his brother.
The transmission's blue glow bounced off his skin and hair, enveloping him in a soft glow. He figured that it was morning for them, since space does not have the sun to orbit around.
"Status report," Kaizo said firmly.
His throat retracted, his palms sweating under the contact of metal. This always happened when he was talking to his brother.
"We have a lead," Fang forced out, his throat stinging, even if he had only spoken four words. "We're setting out tomorrow."
Kaizo's expression turned grim, his brows furrowing in solemnness. He rarely displayed distaste openly, which meant something much more sinister was afoot. KokoCi's expression did not match his usual demeanour as well.
"What's the matter?" he asked, voice hushed. Coat sweat coated his back, despite the air conditioning.
KokoCi's lips moved in a worrying pattern, his lips pressed tightly against each other as his hands were tensely behind his back. They were withholding information from him.
"Nothing," Kaizo said. "Your mission deadline is tomorrow. After that, your team will be considered failed and we will send a backup team."
Fang's eyes widened. "What? That's—"
"TAPOPS out." The transmission came to a close, which left Fang in the darkness, and the room was filled with the resonance of Gopal's soft snores.
His emotions were paused on a roller coaster's climax, like he was dropping ninety degrees downwards but the ride stopped, the fear lingering and stale at the same time, accompanied with a hint of existential crisis.
Eyes falling onto the device, the screen still humming with life, but the purpose of it had long been forgotten, something never to be mentioned again. His teeth clenched in a flurry of emotions, none of them positive or motivative, and he rose abruptly, dropping the communicator to the floor, the device skittering across the ground in muffled clatters, and eventually landed beneath his bed.
Hands curling, the bag that contained his clothes was grabbed, the crinkle of paper loud and clear that resonated in the room, but the Indian didn't wake up and the alien stormed into the bathroom, soon emerging in his original gear, the pyjamas stored in the bag, ditched by the bathtub.
Metal-soled boots stormed across the carpet, and the door creaked open, the streak of light pouring into the room, on the bed and his friend, along with the shadow of his silhouette, his glasses reflecting light.
He turned, and the door closed gently, and he was bathed in external illumination, the corridor silent and empty, with only the unmanned cleaning cart left by the elevators, the transport unused.
He decided walking through the lobby, where there were still workers, will attract too many questions. Instead, he eyed the open window at the very end of the hallway.
From his shadow, he summoned his shadow raven. The black bird materialized outside, its ruby eyes piercing into the dark, emitting a faint glow of scarlet on its shadow-like feathers. Carefully, he climbed atop his creation's back, and headed towards the night sky, basking under the crescent moon's light and the rain of stars, far away from the city and above the clouds.
He leaned downwards to the city, obtaining a bird-eye view of the area. in the sky, he could see nothing but buildings and the lights within. They were like pieces of cement with fairy lights inside, but they were brimming with life. Buildings of all sort of designs stood out, accentuating the general view of the town.
Fang didn't see anything abnormal. Knowing his former friend, he'll probably be somewhere where crime was, right? Cities have plenty of crime. He knew that Boboiboy would never give up justice no matter what.
Looking from up here wasn't going to help much. Landing anywhere in the city didn't help, because there were people everywhere. Eventually, his eyes fell on the skyscrapers, which roofs were virtually empty and had plenty of blind spots.
He blended in with the darkness, dodging lights that were used for product advertisement. As soon as he was able to reach the roof that held an advertisement banner, he landed on the cement floor, the shadow raven dispersing into shadows of mist.
It's midnight now, he thought, glancing on the time that was plastered on the side of a building. Humans were confusing. He had twenty-four hours left to spare. He had to speed this up for his friends. He would not accept a fail in his track record.
A gust of wind brushed against his face and hair, his pointy tips swaying in the wind as he faced the city below. The cars were like ants, humans were like walking dots.
He had to get down, and he was certain that flying over a city on a badass raven might not be the best idea he had come up with. Instead, his eyes fell on the opposite building, which was segregated by a road beneath. If people were going to immortalize his death with the stupidest idea engraved on his gravestone, they were right to do so.
"Yaya is going to end me," he muttered. He envisioned his friend bringing him back from the dead and killing him again. He turned his back from the edge, and left towards the darkness. Then he sprinted, the gust of wind never once stopping his journey. As the raging city below brimmed with life, his foot leaving the solid ground—
He was falling, but not exactly. His hands were held up above his head, his limbs outstretched to minimize the friction of his fall, and his glare was at the widening cement roof, the colour of ashen grey reflecting in his ruby eyes. His teeth clenched with the gush of adrenaline, his chest churning with fire and anxiety and the fear of death, palms moist with sweat, the end of his sleeveless coat billowing in the wind.
The impact was alarmingly near, the surface so close he could feel it in his bones. He extended his feet out to break his fall, body aligning sideways to maximize the effect and friction of his collision. His feet collided against the cement floor, his metal soles screeching against the ground as he kicked up a cloud of dust, his trail leaving long, visible charred marks, as if a car had drifted here.
His ankles ached, but his armour shielded him from most of the damage. All there was left to it was a faint soreness that soon subsided, and his feet were as flexible as ever. He wasted no time to re-evaluate his decision, but instead bolted straight towards the city, jumping from block to block, and eventually arriving at the very bottom, all the while gaining insightful visual information on the way.
* * *
He passed by the restaurant again. It was still open, the warm lights from within pouring onto the dark pavements, countering the measly illumination that was provided by the streetlights.
There were only a few humans walking around the area, but the shops were still open and empty. Unlike daytime, he managed to get a glimpse of the interiors of each restaurant and store.
The waiter that served them before was still inside, but he wasn't working. He was still in his uniform, but he was sitting at a table, reading a novel, as he was the only one left.
Fang scoffed, turning his head from the inside. Humans. He will never understand them.
He headed off towards the darker parts of the city, hoping to find where his former friend might be.
* * *
Time Skip Because I'm Lazy ASF and I want to get this out so I can finish more projects
* * *
The ravenette's expression was unnatural, every muscle in his face tense and uncertain. His hands clenched the sling of his bag that he slung over his shoulder mindlessly, his hair moist as sweat beaded on his forehead.
"What do you want?" Boboiboy demanded, his eye glued on the ground. He seemed scared, terrified even. The darkness in his only good eye was visible as night and day, the white eyepatch obscuring his right, though the visible scar that ran across his eye didn't. "You already caused me to lose half my sight. Are you going to try to take away my legs?"
The rest of the team fell silent. They knew that he was the only one that was able to control the elementals, but in this condition, he wasn't capable. The fate of the universe will ride on a damaged person's shoulders, who's injured emotionally and physically permanently.
Fang pursed his lip. "TAPOPS is giving you a second chance. Don't you want that? All the adventures?"
Boboiboy turned at his direction, but his gaze never left the ground. His fingers drummed along the leather of his bag, his throat contracting.
"I don't need any chances to find any adventures," he admitted, voice breathy. "I'm happy with the life I have now."
"By being a regular human and a part-time waiter?" Ying demanded. "This isn't the life anyone would want. You're not even doing that well financially speaking."
"I have a scholarship for Europe when I graduate," Boboiboy said. "And besides, I've had enough excitement. I settled down, and maybe you should just find someone else. I missed too much in my time as a hero in space."
"Think of all the innocents!" Yaya berated.
"Then why are you still here?"
The group were silenced instantly, but Boboiboy wasn't done.
"You're wasting your breath. I'm not the one with powers here, so why aren't you all out there saving people? Why are you looking for someone to do your job when you're already capable of doing so? This isn't a mission for justice; it's an excuse to find someone else to do your dirty work." Boboiboy's head rose, and he glared at them straight in their eyes. His posture straightened, and it was their turn to avoid eye contact. "So much for being heroes at all."