maskormenacelogs | we say that we won't but you know that we will

found it

[After a while he reemerges, taking the same shortcut as before and barely avoiding hitting the ground hard. What are stairs? Completely irrelevant. Waste of time.

Bottle in hand and applicator in the other, he beelines back to the shed. This, at least, he's somewhat familiar with. He's waxed a bike before, it can't be THAT different.]

Hey. This it?

[He ... could have checked back in Kaneda's room, but in his haste he didn't think to. Nonetheless, he holds the bottle up quickly, to verify. Now that his bike's in sight, he's got a little bit more caution than before.]

[Kaneda's got a game of Coffee Break started, waiting by the shed door as Tetsuo makes his return, eye peeking up to take a look. From the way his smile widens, it's safe to say that Tetsuo got it alright.]

Got it in one.

[Pocketing the comm, he heads back over to the bike.]

It's just how you think it's applied, just enough to cover it, don't glob it...

Want me to spot you?

[Kaneda's asking. He's not doing it himself, or giving instructions in a series of orders. He acts like it's a friendly, routine reminder instead. It's the difference between a hasty, defensive reply that he can do it himself, and the nonchalant, distracted nod Kaneda gets in reply.]

Not a bad idea. Wanna get this right...

[His hand runs along the eye first before he applies some directly to it. He's never been the most careful person, but you wouldn't know it for the gentle touch he uses in spreading it thin. In his mind, he's only mirroring how he's seen Kaneda do it, but you can't fake care. He'd always been more impatient about it before, going for 'good enough' instead of aiming for perfection.

Before, it was just a starter bike. Not something he was overly attached to, or would miss if it was gone as long as he got another one.]

[Kaneda leans on the handlebars of the bike to get a good bird's eye view of the situation, but aside from that, the floor is Tetsuo's. He's here to make sure he can fix any mistakes about to happen, not grab and correct.]

Just like that--you've seen me work, huh? The way you're doing it's just how I would.

[It's affectionate and guiding, his finger pointing to an area Tetsuo slightly glossed over.]

Man, if I didn't know better, I'd say you've done this before.

I waxed my bike before, remember?

[And never asked where the wax came from. By then, he didn't have to wonder much. That was probably Kaneda's urging him to do it back then, too...]

Same deal.

[The alternative is admitting how closely he'd watched Kaneda work, staring after that piece of glorified shit of a bike Kaneda claimed as his own wishing he was the one who got to look after it, or getting lost in fantasies about riding it. He watched everything Kaneda did for years with an increasingly cynical eye. He could repeat all his mannerisms or typical actions in his mind's eye by now, even if his body usually couldn't follow through. This is a rarer instance where it's not dauntingly close to impossible to manage.

It's distressingly easy to replicate everything down to the long slide of spread fingers, gently pressing the applicator down to stretch the sealant as far as possible.

Wax, he'd go faster with. It's not the same deal at all.]

I remember.

[His eyes remain fixated on Tetsuo's work, noting the little things that Kaneda had done while waxing now mirrored in front of him. He'd never admit it outright, of course. Tetsuo's pride was Tetsuo's pride...but it's not like the guy was wrong on his own reason, either.

He continues.]

You were the only one who made that bike look nice, you know? Back in the day, everyone said that it wasn't even worth getting on. A cement block was better than it.

[But Yamagata had lifted it for Tetsuo, and he can remember his protests. "What the hell do you know? I got it out of the lot, didn't I?" A soft smile graces his lips, remembering Tetsuo's first ride on it.]

It didn't fit you. Not like this one. But hell if you showed you could keep up with us.

[Tetsuo's hand pauses in its work, pressing a little harder against the side of his eye. That's just it, though. He didn't keep pace.

He can remember it clearly, too - he'd fight like hell to keep pace, trying desperately to force the motor to work hard enough to catch up. But it never really happened. He couldn't keep his balance at all on it, nor did he have the knowledge at the time to tell if it was his inability, or a low quality bike he was on.

All he knew is it didn't matter how many shortcuts he took or alleys he blazed through, or turns he took a little too sharply to try to shave off time. Ever since he was finally allowed to join them, it was always a desperate race to not be left behind, or get ahead to prove to them that he could have been there all along.

It's true that he didn't hear that talk. They never criticized the bike around him. Oh no... all his selective hearing caught was their criticizing his performance on it when he screwed up.]

If it handled so bad, why'd you guys get it?

[Strange thing is, there's more than one answer to that question, and all of them are right. Hesitation clouds Kaneda's expression, watching Tetsuo work.]

It's not like we have much to choose from, you know. Lifting a bike in Neo Tokyo's not like taking from a convenience store.

[It was true--the Clowns had authority that the Capsules were only just starting to get. Grabbing a bike for them was easy. Grabbing a bike for one of his own? Well...you can't gain territory until you gain bikes, and gaining bikes not in your territory is hard.]

I guess.

[That made sense, though he didn't have to like that it did. He gets up, pulling the bike out to try to get at the other side with minimal success. Stupid shed was too small... he should have started this outside.]

Not like it matters anymore, anyway.

[He should leave it at that, But as he's pulling at the bike to try to gently maneuver it, he adds a quieter question.]

...you really think I did okay on it?

[Kaneda moves the moment Tetsuo has to adjust the bike's position, backing up to lean against the wall. Tetsuo's good--he doesn't need to hover over him for this side.]

Yamagata, Kai...none of us ever said that shit to you.

It was always the idiots below us....they're not the ones who taught you to ride. We did that.

[His eyes harden, tossing his hair up.]

You did what we taught you, and your bike just couldn't handle your skill.

[He's glad he's not directly facing Kaneda when his brother says that, though his head ducks closer to his work anyway, using his shoulders to hide his face. All this time and he never thought they saw that. But Kaneda's right- the important ones never gave him hell for riding. Concern was almost worse, but now that it's not about his own performance... it's so much easier to stomach.

All that time... did Kaneda really believe in him, after all?

There's a way to prove that point. It it's not really true, fine... he'll make it true. He has to!]

Yeah... That stupid thing...

[Maybe he's a little fast to blame his tools. Especially when he got into another accident on another bike. But that wasn't his fault Bull wouldn't get the hell out of his way! It wasn't!! But it's a bit of much needed hope that maybe he could be that good... if the bike is. Besides, if Kaneda remotely thinks he could be, that settles it. He has no choice but to be that good, or he'll lose that respect.]

You gotta see what I can do on a real bike.

[Last ride they had together, first one in what felt like years hadn't been about what Tetsuo could do. It'd been about wanderlust and reconnection; with nothing out there to challenge there'd been not as much point to push that. But next time isn't going to be a question of alliance. It's going to be even better now that it's settled.]

[There's a guilty admission to it. That the bike was also something that kept him safe, kept him from speeding ahead against the clowns and getting himself killed. That Kaneda hoped the bike was as bad as it looked some days. So that Tetsuo would keep up...but not go above and beyond. The other members that weren't the main four could go be idiots. But his boys....

He worried about all of them.]

It kept you safe, too, back in the day. I guess I was just afraid something would happen to you...thought I could protect you without--[Without taking away your wheels.] But you were always a good rider. I taught you that, and you learned that. Maybe that’s why I was afraid.

[A lot of good that did.]

…

You wanna go out riding again sometime? Show Nonah your new paint job?

[He's a little hurt, to be honest, that it had some intent behind it. Tetsuo doesn't really know what to do with that information; Kaneda thought he was good, but also wanted to keep him back...? It fit his character enough. Kaneda was nothing if not always protective of him back then, saying with actions that no matter Tetsuo did, he couldn't look after himself. It drove him absolutely nuts!

But also, Kaneda was wrong. It didn't keep him safe at all; so much for all that protectiveness. And it also means a lot, that he can admit it...

In the quiet, he quietly deals with it in the only way he knows how; pick at it in a quiet mutter. It's a rare day Tetsuo doesn't angle for a fight, especially when it's from uncertainty, insecurity, or unease. Or a feeling of being treated like a kid that needs looking out for all the time.

But he doesn't pick that fight, as easy as it would be. He has to say something. They both know he does. Maybe it's his good mood at finally having a design that's his own, maybe it's the bike itself framing all of that bullshit in the clearly past tense, but this time, he doesn't immediately spring for the jugular.]

You? Afraid?

['Afraid'. Kaneda mentioned he was twice in this admission alone, didn't he? But Kaneda wasn't afraid of anything! That feeling of hurt is gone, replaced by uneasy confusion as he mulls over the confession. Kaneda wouldn't say that carelessly.

His eyes roam forward, to the spring forks. They were a little loose, but they allowed for the turns he never could make on the first one, giving leeway to let him try all kinds of impulsive stunts and get away with. This thing ran smooth, even better than the one Pan magicked up. It was the real deal, and he already had confirmed that on his own. Spent ages agonizing over how to brand it because this one felt right. Yamagata talked about finding that sweet spot once - you sit down on it and you just know.

At the time, he took part of the wrong meaning from it. If he could just get on long enough.. prove it..

Now, putting more care into this eye alone than he's ever put into maintaining a bike before, he finally understands it. Partly because of that understanding, this bike feeling right in a way nothing ever has, he can guess that Kaneda's confession came partly to say that he's not doing that anymore. At the followup question, he nods with enough emphasis that his reaction can't be anything but completely genuine.]

Hell yeah. How else they gonna know it's mine?

[And how else can he prove, once and for all, that he's every bit as good a rider as Kaneda's now saying he is?]

It happens.

[It's quiet, as he paces the shed, seeing just what's hiding in this little place, hand running along pieces of old machinery and wooden planks. Nothing special--just a place that N5 probably threw stuff they didn't have a home for. The shovel that Bull used to dig out the koi pond, Wood Inuyasha had brought from the forest. Hell, maybe this is where the roomba ended up.]

I'm not afraid of anything, not really.

[His fingers trail the edge of one of those planks, looking at his glove idly. His focus isn't even on Tetsuo right now, letting him work in peace as he continues to meander through the shed.] Maybe guns...but only when they're like...right against your head.

[...]

But there is one thing I'm scared of happening. That night you crashed...

You remember it, right? You remember...me? Finding you on the road...

It scared the living shit out of me.

[His fingers curve under the edge of the bike's casing to brace himself, head bowed low but eyes flicking up to Kaneda. He's not even trying to hide the impact of those words under a lighter tone.]

Couldn't forget that if I tried...

[And he couldn't. He didn't. No matter what he said or did afterwards, he'd had that moment seared into his mind, stayed reaching out for Kaneda long afterwards. But that's not all he remembers. There's far more to that, that say far more than words ever could. Now that he's not trying to fight the memories, they flow more freely than before....

What was that he'd said, back when they fought over his first bike here? You're going to get yourself killed!

How he was constantly there, practically hovering, in October.

Kaneda's urgency in his mind, trying to get to him. It was so strong Tetsuo was sure he'd be there in the next instant, just like ...

Just like that time he'd been lying on the road, in more pain than his mind could process and barely able to say a word.

And he remembers screamed apologies in the echoes of someone else's memory ... because he wasn't there to hear them.]

...

[His own voice is small, trying to fight out the words and almost failing. He doesn't like even having to say this.. but what else is he going to do? He can't leave that hanging, both accenting his own fuckups... and a weird feeling of creeping dread he can't shake off. Under the weight of all those memories, words.. all those years pressing in, he'll either falter underneath it or claw his way back out.

Dammit, he can be better than that. He doesn't like the reminders any more than Kaneda likes talking about them, but that can't be where this ends. Now that it's out there, he can't sidestep it or run away from the topic no matter how much he wants to. That's what happened. He can own up to that much. If Kaneda's not posturing, and being honest, he has to do the same.]

Look... I admit it, okay? ... I wasn't the best.

[Every time he ends up admitting that, it does not get easier to say. But.. it's the truth.]

But I'll get better.

[So stop that. It's making him incredibly uneasy.]

For real this time.

I know you will.

[His voice has none of the usual overplayed confidence he usually boasted. It's gentle, not unlike that voice that met Tetsuo at the water fountain all those years ago. The one where he dropped his tough guy act and wiped his mouth after taking a sip, genuine care and interest in the boy who would one day become his brother.

It's not until then that he wanders back over to the bike, gliding his arms along those handlebars, watching as Tetsuo finishes putting the sealant on it. There was something relieving about being this honest with each other, in a way. There was no posturing, there was no attempt at making the other feel bad. It was like talking to a friend, honestly, instead of a leader, instead of someone in his gang. It was like talking to his family.

Amazing, how rare that was for them up until now.]

Didn't say you weren't the best, though.

[Fingers tap against the metal, drumming as a nervous gesture.]

I mean...it's like your paintjob. You'd do anything to protect it.

[That hand reaches down, gesturing to the sealant.]

Luckily for it, the paintjob doesn't have an attitude problem. [To that, he lets out a chuckle, trying to meet Tetsuo's gaze.]

[He's not left to stew over hearing his confession echo in his head. Kaneda's reply is immediate, warm and supportive. More than anything, earnest. As Tetsuo finishes off smoothing out the sealant to the best of his ability, he can't help but feel like there's some solemn ritual finality to what he just did. It's a good feeling, for once, of something final and ironclad that for once feels right after it's settled.

How many truces had they made? How many agreements or exchanges?

But this one isn't like those. It feels more like a promise. One circumstances didn't force him to make.

Slowly, Tetsuo glances up, slowly turning to look at Kaneda as his brother continues. Mechanical motions set the applicator aside on something, close the bottle and set that down, straighten his back; he's only aware of what Kaneda does, and how he moves. Kaneda's casual touch against his bike is reminiscent of how Kaneda treated his own bike, affectionately considerate.

He can't help but compare the two dissonant things in his mind: Kaneda's belief in his abilities now, and before. His respect to this bike, and his reaction to the first bike. There's no questioning the sincerity of those words, but would Kaneda have ever said them before...? Something's different.

...

His eyes meet Kaneda's.]

It's an eye. It could.

No one's got as much attitude as you.

[It's said with a laugh inbetween the pauses, eyes glittering like their own personal galaxies as he traces the handlebars of the bikes. Truth be told, this was all he could ever ask for when it came to talking to Tetsuo. It had been so long since they'd been open with each other...years, even.

And he knew it didn't sit well with him--he knew Tetsuo lived to prove himself, especially to him. But Kaneda wouldn't be Kaneda if he didn't worry about him.

That's how they became friends in the first place, isn't it?]

But that's what makes you...you.

[The warm acceptance to those words, not trying to change him somewhere along the way, twists something deep inside him back to where it feels like it should have been. There's so much there that hurts, and so many problems. But that's not shrugged aside, either.

He's still not sure what his feelings are on any of this. Or maybe he's too scared to admit them. But this isn't about that.

Tetsuo, for the first time in a very long time, did something to say who he was to where anyone could see it. It wasn't like his pinball machine that could be hidden away somewhere. A bike's meant to be ridden. And Tetsuo's meant to be what he is.

It's not often that he feels like Kaneda really understands that. Enough that he'll finally just ask it.

That eye stares unblinkingly. He looks down to it, and Kaneda's approval of it, then back directly to Kaneda.]

And you're okay with that?

[It's automatic, what Kaneda's next answer is going to be. There really was nothing else to say.]

I'm okay with you, if that's what you're going for.

[He rubs the back of his neck, right where the lamppost had hit him so long ago.]

I mean...some parts hurt a little more than others...but as long as you're not abusing 'em...

Yeah, I'd say I'm okay with that.

['As long as you're not abusing them'. He'd been expecting Kaneda to refer to his personality, but in one sentence, Kaneda wraps what he's become into who he is. Pan said that he never would. That any of them would... and Tetsuo'd believed that for so long that it was a genuine surprise to hear otherwise. He blinks, replaying it all in his mind again just to make sure he didn't mishear them.

Those words carry warmth into a colder part of his mind, soothing away more of the hurt from last year. His hand rests on the seat of his bike, soaking it all in.

They really were brothers...]

That's good...

[What to say to that? At least part of his answer's written across his face in a growing smile, even though he ultimately has to move away from the topic. Otherwise, he's dangerously close to saying things he's not sure he can.]

Hey. Speaking of... [powers. Distractions.]

What is your other power, anyway? Or do you just have two?

[He's assuming the second one is invincibility.]

[His brows raise at the question, more out of surprise than worry. As if this whole time, he'd forgotten that it was the one he always kept secret. His trump card, in case people like Pan could find out and abuse it. It wasn't something he could really control, after all.

With a swing of his head to the side, he hums.]

My last power? Heh, you're gonna be pretty disappointed.

[His wrist tilts up, wiggling around his glove until something falls out, landing in the palm of his left hand. And with one flick of his wrist, he tosses it to Tetsuo.

The 1 yen coin from Neo Tokyo itself--one of a kind here, and even more important still.]

My last power is luck. Good...and bad.

Edited 2016-05-06 07:43 (UTC)

[Something small glints through the air. Tetsuo's hand reaches up for it, but it slows even before it lands gently into his palm. He stares at it for a moment.

And then a longer moment as recognition sets in on where, exactly, this coin is from.

His thumb glosses over it, feeling the ridges of it with a gentleness bordering on reverence. Tokyo exists here. Tokyo exists in Ken's world, and in Kururu's, and in so many other worlds. Relics from Neo Tokyo were nonexistent. Barring what clothing he and Kaneda came in with... and Kaneda's ability to summon his bike...

This was the only proof they had that Neo Tokyo ever existed somewhere.]

Luck??

[Kaneda can only nod, rocking back and forth on his heels.]

It's not something I can really control, either. So it's not like I can ever use it on purpose. It just...happens.

Your power is luck...

[Kaneda's said something to that effect - something like if it was any consolation, Kaneda couldn't control his powers, either. That was ages ago, before that one swear-in... but Tetsuo had held onto that little puzzle piece, trying to work it out.

He flicks the yen up with his thumb, watching it spin in the air for a moment before letting it fall back into his hand.

Wait. WAIT. THAT EXPLAINS EVERYTHING!

The implications of this finally sink in, and he can't help it. Tetsuo bursts into incredulous laughter.]

All that time wondering why you got all the luck... I had no idea you actually did!

we say that we won't but you know that we will

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