Being Sailor Taranis was not as easy as Parker thought it would be. For one, it was tiring going on patrol. Even with Dani’s company, Parker was usually out until 3 or 4 in the morning on any given night and then up for class at Hillworth by 7:15AM. If he were being more sensible, Parker might have limited his patrolling to a couple nights of week instead of every night (even superheroes need rest), but it was hard to sleep when he thought of jumping across rooftops or creating something from nothing just with the sheer power bubbling in his hands.
The magical identity he had assumed was too tempting to resist. If Parker was addicted to anything, it was the power of his transformation. Finally, for once in his life, Parker felt that he could make a real and tangible difference. No more complaining about the streets overrun with filth. Parker could clean it up! He could
save lives. In the battle of good and evil, Parker was cast to the side that didn’t kill innocents. It was a hard amendment to make to his pessimistic view of society. In general, he believed that no one was selfless, or truly good. And he still felt that way. Parker killed youma to protect people, especially those he cared about, but it also made him feel really good to do it. Every day, his confidence soared. The difference was that Parker’s selfish actions
preserved society. The negaverse wanted to destroy it.
Parker would not stand behind that destruction, even if it meant admitting his attitude had been wrong before.
That night, he cruised the East Heights. It was his second home for now and would become his official place of residence after graduation from Hillworth. There were days when Parker wanted to just drop out of high school all together, but he knew his mother would have never wanted that for him. Magical double-life or not, Parker wanted to attend college. He wanted to study philosophy and write his own texts. Who was to say he couldn’t do both? At some point, one of the sides in this war would have to win. If the senshi did, he could hang up his fuku and devote himself to school. If the negaverse did... well. He would probably be dead.
The street was quiet down below, but Parker stuck to the rooftops like Tobey Maguire in
Spiderman. He’d learned that his power worked best when the element of surprise was on his side anyway. Most youma were out for the count with a single well-aimed head shot.
Making those shots, on the other hand, fell very short of simple. Parker tried to practice with volleyballs and basketballs in his spare time, but it didn’t have the same weight or heft. Not to mention that his sand grenades spun like tops at his fingertips. Still, with each throw, he got better. At least against the youma. They couldn’t dodge his attacks like negaverse agents could.
Hopping to the next roof, Parker landed on a knee, fingertips touching the gravelly surface of the roof. It was an Asian restaurant -- one of many in the East Heights. It was the location of DC’s very own Chinatown and had been a major attractor for his decision to move into the neighborhood. Who didn’t love a good moo shu pork? He walked to the edge of the building and leaned over the edge, scanning the street below.
Something was making noise in the trashcans propped at one corner of the alleyway. Was it a youma? As far as Taranis could tell, there were no humans around. What else would it be after? He’d made the mistake once before of jumping to conclusions. It led to him almost attacking a harmless dog. Thank god he didn’t throw a sand blast at it. It was just a dog, but Parker felt guilty about it. What if it had been a person? Being a senshi was a trial-by-error process, Parker had learned that much.
The cans jittered against one another, and Taranis moved farther along the edge of the roof, squinting his eyes to make out a familiar ominous shape. He felt it, the energy he now understood to be
evil. If only he’d known that when Black Lady Serenity showed up on his rooftop, things might have ended differently. A youma drifted into form, low and crawling like a sewer rat. Taranis perched on the edge of the roof. It was moving toward the end of the alley slowly, like it might be injured. Well, it wouldn’t have to worry about those injuries much longer.
Standing directly above the youma in the alleyway, Taranis summoned the magic in his veins with a whispered, “
Taranis Sand Blast!” The ball whipped forward toward the youma. It turned around once and then the sand ball made contact. Both objects exploded.
A triumphant smile cross his features. Injured or not, that youma was dead now, and he had done it. Score. Taranis added another tally in his head and was just about to move on when a strained whimper from the alleyway reached his ears. “What...?” The youma was gone, but something was mewling down below. Against his better judgement, Taranis hopped down the few stories to the alley. God, he’d never get tired of that rush.
The pile of sand left behind from his attack was a tiny mound of brown in the gray alley. Taranis listened again. Nothing. He started to turn, and then there it was: a pair of ears sticking up out of the sand. The pile shuddered again, and this time, the bobbing head of a gray kitten popped into view. “Mew...” it cried, shaking its head free of sand.
Crap. Crap crap crap. The kitten had caught the blow-back of his attack. s**t. Sailor Taranis loved cats, secretly, and it made him feel like utter s**t to think he could have hurt one in any way. Dropping to his knees, Taranis scooped up the little kitten, brushing sand off of its head. It was a runt of a thing, fit easily in his hand like a compact. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, giving it a once over.
Two big blue eyes stared back at him. It mewed again. Too ******** cute. Sailor Taranis scanned the alley, but there were no other cats around. What could he do? Leave it there. The kitten mewed again, and Taranis pulled it toward his chest. It batted at his red ascot for a moment and then curled up, purring like a washing machine. Yeah, no way was he leaving the defenseless kitten in the alleyway.
There weren’t many options. Dani had dogs, and Hillworth wasn’t pet-friendly. He didn’t have a parent’s house to take this too, even if the DC rehabilitation prison would even let Marcus Damhnait hang on to a kitten. No, there was just one option.
It was easy to get into his apartment with Tate. He had a key, after all, not that he was using it. The fire escape and window were just as easy. Tate was still sleeping at home most nights since they’d been painting and moving furniture. No one would see him, right? Just to be safe, he henshin’d down in the alleyway and climbed the fire escape the old fashioned way. Creeping into his bedroom, Parker put the kitten down on the floor. There was nothing in his room. He and Tate would be checking out some Craigslist ads in the next few days to pick up some cheap furniture to fill it. He’d have to buy the bed; it was on his to-do list.
Slipping into the kitchen, Parker grabbed a can of tuna leftover from the first round of food they’d loaded in the pantry and popped it open. He found the lid to a trashcan and a spare garbage bag and slipped back in. The kitten scampered toward the tuna the second it touched the ground. Parker grinned. He opened the garbage bag and put it in the trashcan lid. He would need some kitty litter, but nothing was open this late and --
An idea struck Parker. He quickly henshin’d back up and called a ball of sand to his hand, tossing it gently in bag-covered lid. It still made a mess. “This’ll have to do for now,” he said to the kitten. It was busy eating, tail curled around one of its legs. “I promise I’ll come back tomorrow... with real litter.” Parker had no idea how he would explain this to Tate, but he’d have to make her agree.
As Sailor Taranis moved back toward the window out to the fire escape, he paused, turning to face the kitten. “You won’t tell anyone about this Sailor thing, will you?” Hm, it was nice to have someone other than Dani to tell about it. A grin broke across his lips, but he was gone in an instant, a fading glow disappearing into the night.
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