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Rocket didn't know Shuriken all that well. Sometimes Sword would drag him to Thieves' Rest to pay for food there, and he'd see that green inphernal taking their orders. They'd make small talk, maybe chat longer if it wasn't busy, but Rocket didn't know Shuriken.
Rocket knew Sword, he knew Zuka, he even kind of knew Venomshank, but he didn't know him.
And he was fine with that; he didn't think Shuriken was his type anyway, not that he had one. Shuriken was just that tired waiter in Thieves' Rest who sometimes brought them extra stuff out of exhaustion, maybe made a sly joke about him or Sword here and there. He was just a waiter.
That's all Rocket knew about Shuriken.
Until it wasn't.
Sometimes they'd bump into each other, either in the park, on the streets, or jumping around the buildings. Whenever they did, Shuriken would be the first to talk and be the first to remark how Rocket wears a dog tag that isn't his on his neck. And Rocket would be annoyed and snap back at him.
And they'd start talking.
"Yknow, I kind of miss Thieves' Den?"
Shuriken says, lying flat on a rooftop after jumping into Rocket, having a smoke up there. The rocketeer glances at him.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"How so?"
Rocket doesn't miss how Shuriken hesitates to answer.
"Just. . . Nostalgia."
Rocket knew Shuriken could be a liar. He crosses his legs as he slides down off the ledge, taking a drag of his cigarette before snuffing it out on the ground.
"Weak reason."
"Heeeyy!!"
Shuriken would playfully punch Rocket's arm, and they'd go their separate ways after. Little by little, Rocket would know Shuriken a bit better.
"You ever wonder if there's something more out there?"
Shuriken says out of nowhere, the two having sat next to each other on a bench in the late afternoon. Rocket looks up from his phone, confused.
"What?"
"There's gotta be something more than this, right?"
Rocket would continue to look at the other, puzzled.
"Dude, that's certainly a way to start a conversation, hm?"
"Cut a guy some slack, alright, jeez!"
He'd roll his eyes as Shuriken looked back into the horizon. After a beat of silence, he'd answer.
"But. . . Yeah, honestly, kind of? You mean in like, 'I could be doing something else with my life' type way?"
He saw Shuriken's eyes sparkle a little at that.
"Yeah. . . Yeah, something like that. Cuz like I-"
He cuts himself off as Rocket eyes him suspiciously.
"Soo. . . . Got anything to reveal?"
Shuriken shuts his mouth and looks away.
"No. No, um, not at all."
Rocket knew Shuriken could be defensive.
"Where'd you learn to jump like that?"
Shuriken asked, all the while he was actively hanging off a wall. Rocket looked at them, neither of them missing the irony of the question. He snickered, hands in his jacket pockets.
"Little bonus to the prosthetic Medkit made for me-"
"Wait, no way, those are custom-made?"
"Psshh- yeah??? Aren't all??"
"I-"
He cuts himself off.
"Fair point."
Rocket laughs as he crouches down, removing the shoe covering his prosthetic to show Shuriken how it works. There was a circle in the sole of the leg, a glowing sphere inside it.
"Meds put a booster on this thing. Creates energy derived from my gear to blast me off into the sky- it uh- kinda hurts, not gunna lie."
"Whoahh. So that's how you got on Flipsides tower that one time with me."
"Yup! I try not to use it a lot cuz, again, it kinda hurts."
Shuriken's hand hovered over the prosthetic, hesitating and glancing at Rocket.
"I don't bite."
"You do."
"I won't bite, yet."
He rolls his eyes as he glides his hands against the smooth, ridged metal.
"Cold. . ."
"Yeah, it can be like that sometimes. Can't go in water cuz of it, actually."
"Cuz electrical-?"
"The water starts freezing."
"Ah."
They share a chuckle as Rocket thinks Shuriken would halt soon, but doesn't stop. He keeps admiring the machine work, getting Rocket to flex the leg to hear the piston inside work. It was a little funny how fascinated he was with something Rocket considered trivial. Shuriken suddenly reaches out to inspect his other arm, grabbing his fingers to feel the squishy pads under the fingers for grip, traveling up to the cold metal to see how far it goes. Despite not being able to feel that, it makes Rocket's heart skip a beat.
His face flushes, the idea of how intimate this was getting making Rocket's pale skin flush. It all comes to a halt when he feels Shuriken's fingertips reach the end/star of his prosthetic, ghosting his actual skin under his sleeve. His breath hitches as he shoves Shuriken off him.
"Ow-! Dude, what??"
"Oh my Gods- you cannot do that to me."
"What did I even do!?"
Rocket is about to answer, but he doesn't want to say the tingly feeling he got from the skin-on-skin touch, the fact that he could smell the herbal leaves of Vine Staff's garden on his clothes, his horns almost touching his.
"Felt gross."
"Sorry. . ."
Rocket knew Shuriken could be a bit oblivious.
"Welcome to Thieves'-"
Shuriken's usual script was cut off by a yawn escaping his mouth, a small tear forming in his baggy eyes. Rocket and Sword stood at the door, Rocket chuckling.
"-. . . Rest- eh- sorry! Tired today!"
"You're always tired."
He would shoot back with a grin.
"Be nice!!"
Sword would say as he wanders off to find them seats. Rocket would linger a little, staring at Shuriken. He always looked lonely. He shakes it off before going to the front counter to order. Vine Staff pipes up.
"Hi, Rocket, welcome to Thieves' Rest. What can we get you today?"
"Usual."
"Hah, 'course, what else?"
Vine Staff punches in familiar buttons as Rocket already has the money out. Rocket glances over back to Shuriken again, rubbing his eyes as he looks more tired than usual.
"What's up with him?"
Vine Staff scoffs, rolling her eyes playfully.
"Lazy bones thought it was a wonderful idea to stay up late doing who knows what."
"Hm."
It was clear Shuriken was too dazed to hear them as he carried on with whatever he was doing. Rocket didn't know Shuriken, but he knew Shuriken wasn't lazy, of all things. . . Right? Rocket paid for their order as he walked back to Sword, and he started to talk. Rocket tried to pay attention as he usually did, he really did try, but his mind and eyes would wander to that green inphernal.
His eyes are tired from sleepless nights, and his movements are not as calculated as he usually sees them when it's later in the day. It seemed like ordinary sluggishness, but. . . could see those bruises under the slightly rolled-up sleeves. He knew those deep purple marks must have been from last night.
Rocket walked along the streets of Crossroads in the middle of the night. Something ached in his heart head, there was something up with Shuriken, and he knew it. . . But he couldn't place it on what. Something had pulled him out to walk this late, something in the back of his head told him to investigate. . .
. . .
Rocket cranes his head up, looking at the moon. It stares back in all of its beauty.
It's bright tonight, the windows and sidewalks having a sheen from the refracted light. There was still the rustle and bustle of the city; Crossroads rarely sleeps anyway. He walks and walks and walks, glancing around at the nightlife around him. Laughing, talking, music, drinking. It filled the silence enough for Rocket to almost not notice-
Rocket's is pulled into an alleyway, a knife pressing against his neck.
"You look well-off. Empty your pockets."
Was not the first time Rocket's been mugged in his life. The inphernal moves them deeper into the alleyway, the aggressor pressing their back against the wall. Rocket knew summoning his gear could be a threat as he'd rather not spill all his blood out right here and now. He does have some cash on him, having planned on getting a random midnight snack.
"Look, all I got is like 5 bux on me, this is a waste of your time."
"Bullshit. You're lucky I'm giving you a chance."
They press the blade a little harder, Rocket shaking as he feels a faint pain of it starting to cut through the first layers of skin. Shit. . . Shit. . . He can't kick them off; they were stabilized by a wall, and they could just slice his neck as well. He could jump up and gain distance. . . That might just work.
Rocket's booster activates quickly as he's lifted into the air-
Riipp-
The aggressor reacts to this and stabs the knife into Rocket's leg, cutting a large gash into part of his thigh and almost all of his calf. He doesn't mean to cry out, but he yells in pain as he haphazardly crashes on the rooftop, blood spilling out fast from his leg. Shit. SHIT!
Rocket tries to stand, but the pain is too much. He tries to drag himself, blood streaking behind him, but he hears a ladder being climbed as his horns are yanked, lifting his head.
"Hard way it is."
Rocket can do nothing but let the guy search his body. He's about to accept this and think of a way to get to a hospital later, but a flash of green fills his vision. A green masked inphernal dropkicks the aggressor, actually throwing them off the building with the sheer force of it. Holy shit.
Rocket's eyes blink at the masked inphernal. Wait- no fucking shot. Rocket had only heard about this figure in passing with other Crossroad residents. Some vigilantes in the night, fighting against crime to keep the streets safe, as cheesy as it sounds. He thought that was a story, he thought Silver Shadow wasn't real- but-
Silver Shadow looks down at Rocket, inspecting the wounds. He could hear them grumble under their breath, a weird sense of familiarity. Silver Shadow carefully sits him up, trying their best to avoid the open gash in Rocket's leg. He whinces in pain.
"Agh- Gods this sucks-"
Silver Shadow quickly hushes him, prepared as they take out a small first aid kit, already starting work to stop the bleeding. Rocket squirms and whines in pain. He has a high pain tolerance, but come on, his leg is cut open. He shifts as he feels the wound being cleaned, the harsh sting of disinfectant around it. He grips Silver Shadow's sleeve hard, gritting his teeth.
"You can cry if you need to. . ."
Silver Shadow speaks, their voice barely a whisper, forced, and muffled. And yet it sounded so familiar. . .
"Hhah- sure-"
"It'll relieve pressure and stress. Cry, please."
Rocket gulps. There was a gentleness to be found in the vigilante's voice, something that felt like he'd heard before- he just can't- Rocket chokes up as he feels another drop of disinfectant. He takes Silver Shadow's works as tears start to spill down his cheeks, letting himself let out wheezing and cries. Silver Shadow soothes him all the same. Gosh, he felt vulnerable. . .
After a bit, Silver Shadow deems the bandages enough as he lifts Rocket onto his prosthetic leg, letting Rocket use them as a crutch.
"Hospital, now."
"Good plan. . ."
They stumble down the builder's rooftop ladder and make their way down the streets. They were both quiet; the humming of the nightlife was the only noise around. Rocket would glance at Silver Shadow now and then, that mask concealing any facial features, the green smoke even more so. But there was one thing Rocket couldn't get over. . . Those horns and that herbal smell.
Shit man, no. . . No, it couldn't. . .
Rocket stares long enough for 'Silver Shadow' to notice. They're about to say something, but Rocket beats them to the punch.
"Shuriken?"
'Silver Shadow' stops in his tracks. That got a reaction out of them. Rocket's eyes widen more.
"No fucking shot-"
A hand slaps itself over his mouth, 'Silver Shadow's' face getting uncomfortably close to his, the green smoke getting in his face. They look like they were going to say something, but are suddenly distracted by a faint click of their horns accidentally grazing against each other. Rocket breathes hitches again as 'Silver Shadow' pulls away fast enough to cause whiplash.
"Hospital, now."
'Silver Shadow' repeats as Rocket sputters.
"But-"
"Hospital, NOW!"
They say, much louder and firmer, but that just gave him away.
"It really is you- what- you're."
Shuriken holds his breath as he starts to rush them to the hospital in an attempt to shut the other up, to no avail.
"You're the one whose been- been out here all the time- wait, is that why you're always tired??"
"Rocket. . ."
"No, no, don't brush me off. This is what you've been doing all this time!?"
"Don't tell anyone-"
"I won't. Yet-"
Shuriken grabs Rocket by his shirt collar.
"Rocket."
". . . Okay, okay. Lips sealed, kay?"
This makes Shuriken tense a little.
"But I still want answers."
Shuriken looks away.
"After you recover."
"Deal!"
Rocket would wake up in the hospital, his leg sitched and fixed up, Zuka beside him.
"Nh- oh, hey, Dad-"
"What happened?"
Cutting to the chase, he sees.
"Uh, got mugged."
"And?"
"A lot of hurt."
Zuka doesn't say anything further as they sit in semi-awkward silence.
"The doctors said someone brought you in."
"Oh, right, hah, that."
He debates if he should tell Zuka what he found out. . .
. . .
"Just some passerby who helped me up.. . Don't even remember what they looked like, actually."
And Rocket would be in recovery for a few days, Sword being the one to visit the most with worry and, for once, paying for snacks for both of them despite his friend's broken ass. It was nice. If only Shuriken were there. He doesn't know how they'd interact past this. . .
"Shuriken."
"Rocket."
Rocket was still in recovery, the stitches still in place, but he was released home. He leaned against a wall, crutch under his arm. Shuriken was off his shift, Thieves' Rest was closed, and Vine Staff and Slingshot had gone back home. It was quiet, really quiet, between the two of them. Neither said a word to the other, but each knew exactly what the other wanted to say. For once, Rocket was first to speak.
"So. . . Silver Shadow. How long has that been going on?"
Shuriken looks away, scratching the back of his neck.
"A.... While."
"What's a while?"
"You're pushing it."
Rocket raises both hands defensively.
"Wow, okay, one question in and I'm already on thin ice!"
Shuriken's brows furrow, looking at the ground. Rocket calms, feeling bad.
"Sorry. . . Does. . . Does this have to do with that thing you talked about before?"
"What thing??"
"The purpose thing!"
"Ah. . ."
He shifts uncomfortably, tugging at his uniform's collar that he hadn't changed out of yet.
"Yeah. . . Yeah, it is."
"Tell me about that."
Shuriken hesitates before sighing.
"I dunno. . . I'm not made for here."
He slides against the wall, sitting down, hugging his knees.
"Every action I do, everything I am. . . Is it scripted, yknow? I feel disconnected. The cafe is- well, it's nice. . . But honestly, it doesn't matter if I get an order wrong or if I do everything perfectly; it'll be forgotten in a heartbeat anyway. At least out there I make an impact- I get to see first hand- I...."
Shuriken hides his face, shaking a little. He doesn't vocalize his problems often, and this was hard for him. Rocket looks at him softly, shuffling over to slowly sit down next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"You're doing good work, that's worth more than a lot of people can say."
Shuriken hums in response, hesitantly leaning into Rocket's touch. It makes his face flush a little.
"I'm going to guess you haven't told. . . Them, yet?"
"Mhm. . ."
Rocket glances at Shuriken, the small pink and blue dots on his forehead. Rocket knows Shuriken cares.
"You gotta."
"I know. . ."
". . . But you won't, will you?"
He doesn't answer, shaking as he starts to cry. Rocket's hand moves to rub his back comfortingly.
"Hey- hey, it's okay. You don't gotta figure something out now."
His prosthetic hand moves to lift Shuriken's face, whipping the tears off his face. Shuriken sniffles.
"You're so cold. . ."
"I get that a lot."
Shuriken buries his face in Rocket's chest, clutching his shirt.
"I-I probably look st-stupid. . ."
He mumbles as he sobs, Rocket continuing to rub his back and hold him.
"Hey. . . Like you said earlier, umm. . . Gets rid of pressure and stuff, heh. . ."
Shuriken chuckles a little at that as he cries. It's been far too long since he had let his emotions out; the toll on his mind and body was getting more evident with each passing day of his double life. He was really glad Rocket was here. . . He has no one else to turn to.
"Are you the only one out there?"
"H-huh?"
"Like. . . You're doing all this alone, aren't you?"
Shuriken snuffles, rubbing his eyes.
"Uh. . . Yeah. It's tough, and it's exhausting, but. . ."
A beat of silence passes by. Rocket speaks.
"I could. . . Help you."
Shuriken jerks back in surprise, caught completely off guard by the offer.
"What!?"
"I dunno! It could um. . . Help lay the load off you? You're always tired, and your siblings are noticing- I mean, you seem lonely. . ."
Rocket himself is just as lonely in a way. He only has Zuka and Sword, just as Shuriken only has Slingshot and Vine Staff. It'd be nice to have another person to talk to. . . Shuriken's expression twists and contorts, thinking deeply about this.
"You don't hafta answers, just. . ."
"I think it could be a good idea."
"W-wait, really?"
". . . How are your stitches?"
Rocket looks back at his leg.
"They'll be off in a couple of days, and the entire thing should heal within a week or two."
Shuriken mumbles something to himself as he whips his face, his signature smile returning as he moves away from Rocket. Rocket doesn't mention how he wanted to feel that warmth again. He brushes himself.
"Okay then! Once that happens, knock on my window, kay?"
Shuriken takes out the notepad he usually uses for orders and writes his address down, plus which room is his, handing it to Rocket. His handwriting was a little shaky today.
"I'll see you then, okay?"
And just as fast, he's gone. Rocket blinks, putting the paper into his pocket as he slowly gets back up. He wonders what Shuriken has in store for him.
Knock knock knock
It was midday when Rocket knocked on the window softly, his prosthetic arm keeping him hanging off the windowsill. His leg was fully healed, and the wound wouldn't reopen now. He and Shuriken hadn't talked too much after their conversation a week ago, just small talk and polite hellos. It was a little strange. To have learned so much about the inphernal, to have pretended to know nothing about him. Before Rocket could be lost in thought, Shuriken slides the window open and very forcefully pulls him into his room.
"Ack-!"
Rocket, ungracefully, crashes onto the hardwood floor.
"Sheesh, sorry."
"Ughhhh. A warning, maybe?"
Rocket rubs his head as he stands up, the smell of herbs and flowers instantly hitting him. Wow. Not even those fancy candles Sword sometimes had were this strong. It was almost nauseating in a way.
"Er- sorry for the mess, I didn't have time to clean."
Rocket looked around the room, and yeah, the place was really messy. Wrinkled clothing was scattered around the floor, an unmade bed, and other trinkets.
"Sling and Vine are out today, so don't worry about getting caught."
"Then why didn't you tell me to use the front door??"
"I can't tell the future!!"
"Whatever. What uh- why exactly am I here?"
Shuriken pauses, sheepishly chuckling as he scratches the back of his neck.
"Don't call this cheesy. . ."
Rocket raises an eyebrow.
"But like um. . . . I wanna make you a vigilantie persona-"
"Bruh-"
"DON'T CALL IT CHEESY!!!"
Shuriken smacks Rocket's arm as he laughs, finding this amusing if anything. Shuriken looks down, face flushing, looking like he wants to say something as he shuffles away to fetch something from the piles of stuff in his room. After a bit, he slowly takes out-.
A fox mask.
"What is that?"
"I uh. . . Made it for you a few days ago. . ."
Shuriken looks away as he hands Rocket the mask. It was dark blue as a base colour, with an angry expression on the eye holes. Over the right eye was a large star with patterns on it. Rows of sharp teeth line the underside of the mask, and a wavy blue pattern covers part of the left side; stars are scattered around.
"Whoah."
"Try it on- I wanna make sure it fits."
Rocket shrugs as he pulls the strap behind his horns, slitting it in between them as he adjusts the mask. He can see out of it just fine, his mouth somewhat still visible with the mask on, but that doesn't matter.
"There are smoke flares at the bottom, by the teeth. Thought that'd look pretty cool."
"I mean, if it looks good on yoouuu. . ."
Shuriken basically beams, and Rocket is glad to have the mask on his face, suddenly, for no particular reason.
"I got a bunch of other stuff around here. Had to uh, buy a blue fabric though- has anyone ever told you blue looks really good on you?"
"A lot."
"Ah, okay then."
Shuriken scratches the back of his neck as he rummages around his messy room. Rocket stands there, watching, mask still on his face. There's a mirror on the wall, and he stares at himself for a moment.
. . .
From Splintered Skies to Craterdust. To Crossroads to the night.
What a life he lives, huh?
Shuriken pulls him out of his trance when he grabs him to start to measure his body. This flusters him a little, but he doesn't say much. He's happy to see Shuriken so excited, he doesn't see the inphernal smile all that often.
Maybe this was worth it.
. . .
No, this is worth it.
The underbelly of Crossroads has never been so quiet before. The streets whisper of a new inphernal standing side by side with the Silver Shadow. Everyone had thought the Silver Shadow was untouchable, emotionless in their way of justice, a nuisance to anyone who dared to think they could live easily with crime.
The Silver Shadow seemed to glide through the air, quiet and tactful.
The Stargazer was the opposite.
With a rocket launcher by their side, the Stargazer was far too eager to put criminals in their place.
Side by side, hand in hand, the Shadow and Gazer walk along the moonlit roads.
One thing is for certain.
Rocket knows Shuriken far more than anyone else does.
