FIC: 36 Views of Mt. Fuji: Winter (5/9)
Title: 36 Views of Mt. Fuji: Winter (5/9)
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Disclaimer: The boys belong to DC and to each other, but not to me.
Series Notes: 36 Views of Mt. Fuji is a series set early in Batman and Superman's careers, shortly after the S/B annual #1. The full series can be found here.
Rating: PG
Summary: Bruce and Clark get closer to confronting Kyodai Ken; Clark shops for souvenirs while Bruce broods.
Word Count: 2100
The crow has flown away:
swaying in the evening sun,
a leafless tree.
--Soseki Natsume
Clark Kent tucked his toothbrush into his backpack and looked at himself critically in the mirror. That damn curl was sliding down into his eyes again, and he pushed it up and patted it into place once more. Almost two years as a superhero and he still couldn't get his hair to behave correctly.
He walked back out into the main room to find Bruce Wayne glowering at a newspaper with an expression he usually reserved for hardened criminals. "What's the problem, Bruce?"
Bruce shook the newspaper at him. A small news item, just a tiny box: "Japan's Prime Minister to open restoration project in Hakone." A few phrases jumped out at Clark: Usher in New Year...symbolic stand against corruption in government...Tokaido Road...
"Hm," Clark said. "Looks like we've finally got a lead on what Kyodai's up to." Bruce nodded grimly. "So...shouldn't Superman stop by and warn the Prime Minister?"
"Only if you want to alert Kyodai that we're definitely on to him and let him go to ground," Bruce said. He retreated behind the newspaper; Clark couldn't see his face. "He killed Matsunaga. I'm not going to let him slip away."
The voice behind the paper was close to Batman's, but not quite. It made Clark a little uneasy, somehow. He shouldered his backpack. "Well, we'd better head toward the Tokaido Road then."
: : :
To get to the remnants of the old imperial road that connected Tokyo and Kyoto required taking a train, then a gondola, and apparently then a boat, all the while pretending to trail the unwitting yakuza tourist.
The train wasn't going to arrive for a while, so Clark wandered into a local gift shop. He picked up a painting of Mt. Fuji in garish flourescent colors on black velvet. "I think my ma might like this."
Bruce Wayne looked over his shoulder and wrinkled his lip. "You have got to be kidding me."
"What, no lecture about how this is actually some kind of Zen aesthetic beyond the ken of Western souls?"
Bruce extricated the velvet painting from Clark's hands. "No, Clark. This is just tacky."
Clark couldn't help but smile a little at the outraged tone of Bruce's voice. "But seriously, I should buy something to give my parents as a souvenir. Just...not that painting," he added hastily. Like with the horse meat, he and Bruce seemed to often find themselves in situations where a bluff was all too likely to be called.
Bruce rummaged through the rows of Hello Kitty-themed merchandise until he found a small wooden box with a carving on the lid of a small torii in front of Fuji. "This is pretty good quality for the price," he said, examining it critically.
Clark scooped it from his hands. "Great, I trust you," he said lightly, and went to the register. Bruce trailed after, his hands in his pockets.
"I have to admit, Clark, I find it hard to imagine you as having parents," Bruce said as the register chimed and Clark fumbled with making the right change.
Clark frowned as the store door clicked shut behind them. "Huh?"
"I mean...Superman's parents? One rather imagines super-parents or such."
Clark squinted at Bruce, confused. "Super-parents? I mean, they're great folks..."
The train pulled up and Clark hurried for it. "That's not quite what I meant..." Bruce said behind him, but didn't continue, breaking off to hurry to the train.
The train was a funicular, ascending a mountain at a close-to-vertical angle. The air was crisp and clear after last night's snow, and Clark craned his head at the view. "I can't see Fuji."
"The view's better from the gondola we'll take next, and the ship. This is one of the best times of year to see it; there's a lot less air pollution over the New Year's holiday."
Clark leaned back and watched the mountains rise up around them, snowy and sparkling in the sun. "So what did you mean about my parents?"
"I don't know...maybe I'm just curious what kind of life you had, growing up." Bruce was looking out the window away from Clark.
Clark shrugged. "I'd get up in the morning and do the chores, go to school, come home and do homework, maybe get together with my friends to see a movie downtown...nothing too special."
"Nothing special," Bruce repeated flatly.
"My parents taught me not to use my powers too much, and they really weren't reliably there until my late teens anyway. The first time I tried to fly I almost wrecked the barn," Clark smiled fondly at the memory. "Really, my day-to-day life growing up was...very ordinary."
Bruce made a snorting noise that almost became a sigh near the end. "It just seems...ironic to me, that the most extraordinary person on the planet could have an 'ordinary' childhood."
Clark laughed out loud at that. "I might have extraordinary powers, Bruce, but I'm pretty damn ordinary compared to someone like you." He shook his head at Bruce's expression. "Superman's just...some lucky genetics and a pretty costume. I didn't craft him over years like you did Batman, all the effort and training...that's extraordinary. I mean, Batman's real."
The funicular jarred to a stop and Clark hopped off the train. Bruce followed him more slowly. After a moment Clark heard him mutter almost to himself, "That's kind of what I worry about." Which didn't seem connected to anything they'd been talking about, because it made it sound like he was referencing Batman being real. Clark had seen how comfortable Bruce was as Batman, how he was more truly himself in the suit. How could anyone be worried about being an authentic superhero, not just always...faking it?
Sometimes Bruce didn't make any sense at all.
: : :
From the top of this mountain Clark could finally see Fuji clearly, looming in the distance, its symmetrical slopes white with snow. Bruce stood next to him in the cold breeze, his arms wrapped around his chest, frowning almost angrily at the mountain. He seemed to have slipped into a bad mood, and even suggesting they buy matching fans emblazoned with a popular Japanese boy band had done nothing to cheer him up.
"It's beautiful," Clark breathed. "I'd love to climb it someday."
Bruce huffed slightly, his breath white and feathery. "Clark, you can just fly to the top anytime you like."
"It's not the being at the top that's important, it's the journey to get there."
"Very deep, Clark, very deep. And while we're trading metaphors, consider this one: Fuji looks lovely and pristine from here, but its slopes are covered with junk and crap thrown there by the people who've gone before." He stalked toward the gondola station, jamming his hands in his pockets.
Clark caught up with him and they got into the gondola car together. It lifted off, beginning the long descent down the mountain toward a little lake nestled between hills far at the bottom. Bruce was glaring out the window, the silence not as friendly as Clark would have liked it to be. Groping for something to discuss, Clark said, "So, how do you know this Matsunaga wasn't working with Kyodai? Maybe he threatened to back out or something."
He had hoped to move Bruce into detective mode--even being lectured by him would be better than the cold silence--but Bruce just gave him a withering look. "Ninja work alone," he answered. Then he turned back to the window. "Besides, Seio would never work with Kyodai. Seio was--he wasn't like that."
The gondola hitched past a pylon, rattling. When quiet returned, Clark ventured, "Well, what was he like?"
Bruce rested one palm on the cold glass of the window. "My Japanese wasn't so good when I first arrived at Yoru-sensei's. Most of the other students were too uncomfortable with their English to talk to me. Some...weren't very friendly." He drew his hand down the glass slowly. "But Seio always took the time to talk to me, even though his English wasn't great. He said it gave us both a chance to learn together. He'd make mistakes and laugh and laugh when I explained them. He was a rich kid, heir to a major construction company, but...he was never arrogant or entitled. Yoru-sensei saw something in him worth training. It made my time in Japan much easier, having a--someone I could talk to. Seio-kun," he said very softly. Not to Clark.
"You were close."
"I hadn't talked to him in years."
"That isn't what's important with friends." Bruce flinched very slightly at the last word and said nothing; the rest of the ride passed in silence.
At the bottom of the hill, they exited the gondola and strolled toward the lake, the still-oblivious yakuza boss well ahead of them. "So now we take a boat across the lake? What kind of boat?"
"You'll see." The corner of Bruce's mouth had a hint of smirk; it was the first thing close to a smile Clark had seen that day. They rounded the corner and Clark stopped dead.
"No way." At the dock was a ferry decked out in bright scarlet with garish gold trim, masts reaching up into the sky. "The ferry is a faux pirate ship?" Clark started laughing at the image of the synthetic pirate ship up against the Japanese hills; he looked over to see Bruce's expression fairly close to a smile at Clark's enthusiasm. Clark swashbuckled a few steps around the other man. "Arrr, matey," he growled, and was gratified to see the smile relax into something even closer to genuine.
"Arrr," Bruce agreed, rolling his eyes slightly. He could roll his eyes all he wanted if he'd smile while doing it, as far as Clark was concerned.
The ferry launched soon with Clark and Bruce on it, Clark still chortling and playing at being a pirate, pulling out every bit obf jargon he knew. "Avast, ye landlubbers! Scurvy scoundrels!" he threatened a passing boat. "Or prepare ye to taste cold steel at the hands of Captains Wayne and Kent!" Bruce was nearly laughing at him and his appalling English accent now, which only encouraged him more: apparently incompetence could be useful for things other than hiding secret identities.
"You need a pirate name, Captain Kent."
"I was thinking maybe Trueheart. Trueheart and his faithful comrade Blackgrouch." Bruce pulled a sour face that only seemed to emphasize the point as Clark wandered up to the bow of the ship, still chuckling. He got as close as he could to the bow--which wasn't close, for safety reasons--and flung his arms out. "I'm king of the world!"
Bruce leaned against a railing, his arms crossed against the cold, eyeing Clark sardonically. "Where is a merciful iceberg when you need one?" He wasn't exactly smiling, but he no longer seemed to be in the truly dark mood he had been in earlier.
Clark joined Bruce against the railing, gesturing melodramatically. "Bruce, you have to promise me, if we do sink...you'll go on without me, live your life. Never let go, Bruce."
Bruce sighed. "Clark, advising me to 'never let go' is rather like advising the sun to rise. Not exactly a problem for me." A pause. Then he snorted slightly to himself. "Trueheart."
The ship started to pull into the dock and Clark glanced over at Bruce. "I'm worried about you." Bruce looked surprised, and Clark continued, "You almost laughed for a little bit there. I was afraid you might sprain your lips or something. You sure you're okay?"
A barked laugh, but an actual laugh in response. "I'm okay, Clark." Bruce pushed off from the railing as the ship shuddered to a halt. "And I'll be more okay when we get the bastard who killed Seio." He stopped and looked back at Clark. "Ready, matey?"
Clark tried to look serious, but couldn't help smiling a little. "Aye aye, Cap'n."
Together they stepped off the ship and headed toward where the Prime Minister was going to give his speech.
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Disclaimer: The boys belong to DC and to each other, but not to me.
Series Notes: 36 Views of Mt. Fuji is a series set early in Batman and Superman's careers, shortly after the S/B annual #1. The full series can be found here.
Rating: PG
Summary: Bruce and Clark get closer to confronting Kyodai Ken; Clark shops for souvenirs while Bruce broods.
Word Count: 2100
The crow has flown away:
swaying in the evening sun,
a leafless tree.
--Soseki Natsume
Clark Kent tucked his toothbrush into his backpack and looked at himself critically in the mirror. That damn curl was sliding down into his eyes again, and he pushed it up and patted it into place once more. Almost two years as a superhero and he still couldn't get his hair to behave correctly.
He walked back out into the main room to find Bruce Wayne glowering at a newspaper with an expression he usually reserved for hardened criminals. "What's the problem, Bruce?"
Bruce shook the newspaper at him. A small news item, just a tiny box: "Japan's Prime Minister to open restoration project in Hakone." A few phrases jumped out at Clark: Usher in New Year...symbolic stand against corruption in government...Tokaido Road...
"Hm," Clark said. "Looks like we've finally got a lead on what Kyodai's up to." Bruce nodded grimly. "So...shouldn't Superman stop by and warn the Prime Minister?"
"Only if you want to alert Kyodai that we're definitely on to him and let him go to ground," Bruce said. He retreated behind the newspaper; Clark couldn't see his face. "He killed Matsunaga. I'm not going to let him slip away."
The voice behind the paper was close to Batman's, but not quite. It made Clark a little uneasy, somehow. He shouldered his backpack. "Well, we'd better head toward the Tokaido Road then."
: : :
To get to the remnants of the old imperial road that connected Tokyo and Kyoto required taking a train, then a gondola, and apparently then a boat, all the while pretending to trail the unwitting yakuza tourist.
The train wasn't going to arrive for a while, so Clark wandered into a local gift shop. He picked up a painting of Mt. Fuji in garish flourescent colors on black velvet. "I think my ma might like this."
Bruce Wayne looked over his shoulder and wrinkled his lip. "You have got to be kidding me."
"What, no lecture about how this is actually some kind of Zen aesthetic beyond the ken of Western souls?"
Bruce extricated the velvet painting from Clark's hands. "No, Clark. This is just tacky."
Clark couldn't help but smile a little at the outraged tone of Bruce's voice. "But seriously, I should buy something to give my parents as a souvenir. Just...not that painting," he added hastily. Like with the horse meat, he and Bruce seemed to often find themselves in situations where a bluff was all too likely to be called.
Bruce rummaged through the rows of Hello Kitty-themed merchandise until he found a small wooden box with a carving on the lid of a small torii in front of Fuji. "This is pretty good quality for the price," he said, examining it critically.
Clark scooped it from his hands. "Great, I trust you," he said lightly, and went to the register. Bruce trailed after, his hands in his pockets.
"I have to admit, Clark, I find it hard to imagine you as having parents," Bruce said as the register chimed and Clark fumbled with making the right change.
Clark frowned as the store door clicked shut behind them. "Huh?"
"I mean...Superman's parents? One rather imagines super-parents or such."
Clark squinted at Bruce, confused. "Super-parents? I mean, they're great folks..."
The train pulled up and Clark hurried for it. "That's not quite what I meant..." Bruce said behind him, but didn't continue, breaking off to hurry to the train.
The train was a funicular, ascending a mountain at a close-to-vertical angle. The air was crisp and clear after last night's snow, and Clark craned his head at the view. "I can't see Fuji."
"The view's better from the gondola we'll take next, and the ship. This is one of the best times of year to see it; there's a lot less air pollution over the New Year's holiday."
Clark leaned back and watched the mountains rise up around them, snowy and sparkling in the sun. "So what did you mean about my parents?"
"I don't know...maybe I'm just curious what kind of life you had, growing up." Bruce was looking out the window away from Clark.
Clark shrugged. "I'd get up in the morning and do the chores, go to school, come home and do homework, maybe get together with my friends to see a movie downtown...nothing too special."
"Nothing special," Bruce repeated flatly.
"My parents taught me not to use my powers too much, and they really weren't reliably there until my late teens anyway. The first time I tried to fly I almost wrecked the barn," Clark smiled fondly at the memory. "Really, my day-to-day life growing up was...very ordinary."
Bruce made a snorting noise that almost became a sigh near the end. "It just seems...ironic to me, that the most extraordinary person on the planet could have an 'ordinary' childhood."
Clark laughed out loud at that. "I might have extraordinary powers, Bruce, but I'm pretty damn ordinary compared to someone like you." He shook his head at Bruce's expression. "Superman's just...some lucky genetics and a pretty costume. I didn't craft him over years like you did Batman, all the effort and training...that's extraordinary. I mean, Batman's real."
The funicular jarred to a stop and Clark hopped off the train. Bruce followed him more slowly. After a moment Clark heard him mutter almost to himself, "That's kind of what I worry about." Which didn't seem connected to anything they'd been talking about, because it made it sound like he was referencing Batman being real. Clark had seen how comfortable Bruce was as Batman, how he was more truly himself in the suit. How could anyone be worried about being an authentic superhero, not just always...faking it?
Sometimes Bruce didn't make any sense at all.
: : :
From the top of this mountain Clark could finally see Fuji clearly, looming in the distance, its symmetrical slopes white with snow. Bruce stood next to him in the cold breeze, his arms wrapped around his chest, frowning almost angrily at the mountain. He seemed to have slipped into a bad mood, and even suggesting they buy matching fans emblazoned with a popular Japanese boy band had done nothing to cheer him up.
"It's beautiful," Clark breathed. "I'd love to climb it someday."
Bruce huffed slightly, his breath white and feathery. "Clark, you can just fly to the top anytime you like."
"It's not the being at the top that's important, it's the journey to get there."
"Very deep, Clark, very deep. And while we're trading metaphors, consider this one: Fuji looks lovely and pristine from here, but its slopes are covered with junk and crap thrown there by the people who've gone before." He stalked toward the gondola station, jamming his hands in his pockets.
Clark caught up with him and they got into the gondola car together. It lifted off, beginning the long descent down the mountain toward a little lake nestled between hills far at the bottom. Bruce was glaring out the window, the silence not as friendly as Clark would have liked it to be. Groping for something to discuss, Clark said, "So, how do you know this Matsunaga wasn't working with Kyodai? Maybe he threatened to back out or something."
He had hoped to move Bruce into detective mode--even being lectured by him would be better than the cold silence--but Bruce just gave him a withering look. "Ninja work alone," he answered. Then he turned back to the window. "Besides, Seio would never work with Kyodai. Seio was--he wasn't like that."
The gondola hitched past a pylon, rattling. When quiet returned, Clark ventured, "Well, what was he like?"
Bruce rested one palm on the cold glass of the window. "My Japanese wasn't so good when I first arrived at Yoru-sensei's. Most of the other students were too uncomfortable with their English to talk to me. Some...weren't very friendly." He drew his hand down the glass slowly. "But Seio always took the time to talk to me, even though his English wasn't great. He said it gave us both a chance to learn together. He'd make mistakes and laugh and laugh when I explained them. He was a rich kid, heir to a major construction company, but...he was never arrogant or entitled. Yoru-sensei saw something in him worth training. It made my time in Japan much easier, having a--someone I could talk to. Seio-kun," he said very softly. Not to Clark.
"You were close."
"I hadn't talked to him in years."
"That isn't what's important with friends." Bruce flinched very slightly at the last word and said nothing; the rest of the ride passed in silence.
At the bottom of the hill, they exited the gondola and strolled toward the lake, the still-oblivious yakuza boss well ahead of them. "So now we take a boat across the lake? What kind of boat?"
"You'll see." The corner of Bruce's mouth had a hint of smirk; it was the first thing close to a smile Clark had seen that day. They rounded the corner and Clark stopped dead.
"No way." At the dock was a ferry decked out in bright scarlet with garish gold trim, masts reaching up into the sky. "The ferry is a faux pirate ship?" Clark started laughing at the image of the synthetic pirate ship up against the Japanese hills; he looked over to see Bruce's expression fairly close to a smile at Clark's enthusiasm. Clark swashbuckled a few steps around the other man. "Arrr, matey," he growled, and was gratified to see the smile relax into something even closer to genuine.
"Arrr," Bruce agreed, rolling his eyes slightly. He could roll his eyes all he wanted if he'd smile while doing it, as far as Clark was concerned.
The ferry launched soon with Clark and Bruce on it, Clark still chortling and playing at being a pirate, pulling out every bit obf jargon he knew. "Avast, ye landlubbers! Scurvy scoundrels!" he threatened a passing boat. "Or prepare ye to taste cold steel at the hands of Captains Wayne and Kent!" Bruce was nearly laughing at him and his appalling English accent now, which only encouraged him more: apparently incompetence could be useful for things other than hiding secret identities.
"You need a pirate name, Captain Kent."
"I was thinking maybe Trueheart. Trueheart and his faithful comrade Blackgrouch." Bruce pulled a sour face that only seemed to emphasize the point as Clark wandered up to the bow of the ship, still chuckling. He got as close as he could to the bow--which wasn't close, for safety reasons--and flung his arms out. "I'm king of the world!"
Bruce leaned against a railing, his arms crossed against the cold, eyeing Clark sardonically. "Where is a merciful iceberg when you need one?" He wasn't exactly smiling, but he no longer seemed to be in the truly dark mood he had been in earlier.
Clark joined Bruce against the railing, gesturing melodramatically. "Bruce, you have to promise me, if we do sink...you'll go on without me, live your life. Never let go, Bruce."
Bruce sighed. "Clark, advising me to 'never let go' is rather like advising the sun to rise. Not exactly a problem for me." A pause. Then he snorted slightly to himself. "Trueheart."
The ship started to pull into the dock and Clark glanced over at Bruce. "I'm worried about you." Bruce looked surprised, and Clark continued, "You almost laughed for a little bit there. I was afraid you might sprain your lips or something. You sure you're okay?"
A barked laugh, but an actual laugh in response. "I'm okay, Clark." Bruce pushed off from the railing as the ship shuddered to a halt. "And I'll be more okay when we get the bastard who killed Seio." He stopped and looked back at Clark. "Ready, matey?"
Clark tried to look serious, but couldn't help smiling a little. "Aye aye, Cap'n."
Together they stepped off the ship and headed toward where the Prime Minister was going to give his speech.