Work Text:
The first time Barnaby ever met Kotetsu, his first thought was: This wasn't going to work out.
When Kotetsu was assigned to overlook him as a trainee, he made that ridiculous comment during their first meeting calling him "Bunny-chan".
"What?" Barnaby snaps, unamused.
"It’s your codename,” Kotetsu said. “I’m the tiger and you’re the bunny. Lil’ bunny chan.” Kotetsu mimics the ears of a bunny with his hands placed against the sides of his head, index finger pointing up. Barnaby wasn’t amused.
“What? You don’t like it? It fits you, though!” Kotetsu laughed, patting him good naturedly on the back. Barnaby also hadn’t liked that. He didn’t like it when people invaded his personal space without his permission.
There were many things about Kotetsu that Barnaby did not like.
Kotetsu was the type who preferred knives to guns, even though he almost always employed the use of the latter. But he’ll still take any chance he gets to sing how things were much simpler back in the old days before illegal weapons smuggling was rampant in the country. There was a time when assassins were exclusively using knives. Barnaby couldn’t imagine such a time period.
He was also the type who attracted attention wherever he went. Although he didn’t quite act like it, there are times where Barnaby’s inclined to call Kotetsu attention-seeking—always trying to claim the title of top assassin in their organization. Barnaby’s dignified enough not to act in such a childlike manner—there’s times where Barnaby feels he’s the more mature one despite being several years younger than Kotetsu.
Even this harshly contrasted how Barnaby preferred to do his work—a man who blended well in with the crowd, and whose sole job was to remain as discreet as possible. He was the type who goes undercover—unlike Kotetsu’s usual job of complete organization takedowns, Barnaby’s specialty was that he could be given any target, no matter how protected the person might be, and kill without leaving a single trace behind. He was what people would call a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Or, as Kotetsu aptly joked one time, “a wolf in bunny’s clothing”.
God, Barnaby hated that codename. He hated the fact that Kotetsu liked to call him “Bunny-chan” even more.
Their first outing together was a complete disaster—mostly due to Kotetu’s own incompetence. For some reason, the man thought he could come along with Barnaby to “supervise” Barnaby’s first mission with their organization, and guess who was the one who messed it up?
Yeah, Kotetsu was clearly more of a “quantity over quality” assassin. Within five minutes—five minutes—the man had somehow outed himself as not belonging there. On the other hand, Barnaby maintained his disguise as an ordinary waiter—it was Kotetu’s own fault for coming along and for getting caught. Barnaby had no intention to save the man from his own stupidity.
“Hey!” Kotetsu yelled to Barnaby’s turned back.
Barnaby felt annoyance boiling up inside him—any assassin should know that even if their position has been compromised, they absolutely should not compromise their very-uncompromised partner.
“Bunny—!” Kotetsu had been cut off, thankfully, due to a guard punching him in the stomach. Barnaby continued his business as usual.
After the target had been disposed of, no thanks to Kotetsu, and Kotetsu had fought his way out of the premises, it was clear that the target had died due to an assassination attempt rather than natural causes, already jeopardizing the entire point of a covert mission in the first place. They rendezvoused at an agreed-upon point—it was Kotetsu’s own suggestion, and probably the only good point of advice he’s made since they’ve met.
“You abandoned me,” Kotetsu pouted.
“If I hadn’t, the mission wouldn’t have been completed. Are you trying to sabotage me?”
“Well, we’re supposed to be partners. We could’ve gotten it done another way.”
This man could not be reasoned with, Barnaby came to the conclusion.
Barnaby sighed. “Why would they partner us in the first place? We have completely different approaches to our line of work.”
“Bun—”
“My name. Is not. Bunny-chan,” Barnaby punctuated each syllable with sharp emphasis.
“Barnaby,” Kotetsu grumbled, “They probably paired us together so we could cover each other’s weaknesses. You’re good at stealth missions, but you’re probably bad at everything else.”
“Of course. I had special training in one field.”
“Exactly!” Kotetsu said. “But you know, if things go south, you’ll need someone to cover your back.”
“I’m not careless, like you,” Barnaby snarked.
“I get we haven’t gotten on the best of starts, but you don’t have to insult me every time you speak,” Kotetsu complained. “Show a little respect to your elders.”
“Maybe if you started acting your age,” Barnaby muttered under his breath.
“What was that?”
“I said maybe once you earn it.”
“That wasn’t what you said! Don’t underestimate my hearing—I have a kid at home who does the exact same thing.”
Barnaby froze, his entire worldview shattering with just a few words. What?
“You’re a father,” Barnaby said in disbelief.
“…Yeah?” Kotetsu didn’t understand Barnaby’s surprise, scratching his head. “So what if I am?”
“You. You’re a father,” Barnaby repeated again with the same tone. “I just can’t really picture it. You’re married?”
“Ah.” Kotetsu’s expression turned melancholic. “Not anymore.”
“Divorced?”
“Come on,” Kotetsu said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “We should go back to headquarters and debrief the higher-ups.”
“So, divorced,” Barnaby concluded. “It’s normal, there’s no need to be embarrassed about such a thing. You know, statistically, most men divorce at leas—”
“Let’s go!” Kotetsu yelled, grabbing Barnaby’s hand to rush them into the car, much to Barnaby’s protest at being manhandled.
Over time, things have mellowed out between Kotetsu and Barnaby. They still bickered, that was a given. They probably bickered too much. Some of their colleagues make fun of the fact that they sound like an old married couple at times.
“Kotetsu’s divorced with a kid,” Barnaby stated as a fact. “I hardly think I’d make a good choice for a partner.”
“Wild Tiger? Divorced?” Nathan asked, hand on chin. “Is he?”
“I don’t think it’s divorce,” Antonio said, with eyes that told Barnaby it was definitely not divorce, but with the tone of a person who wasn’t willing to give up the truth.
“He never mentioned he was married,” Nathan said. “Then again, I don’t know him that well. And honestly, I’m fine with that. Some advice to you, newbie: it’s not smart to get attached to any of your coworkers in this line of work.”
Antonio nodded. “They either die or leave. And when they leave, they make sure they can’t be found. And that’s the good outcome supposedly.”
“Who knows if they actually leave? Can’t tell the difference,” Nathan said. “If nobody ever hears from them again, who knows what could’ve actually happened?”
It gave Barnaby some good food for thought.
It’s been many missions now.
“Kotetsu, why’d you decide to become an assassin?”
It was a question that threw Kotetsu off guard. Barnaby, before all this, had rarely willingly started a conversation on his own accord and never inquired about Kotetu’s personal life without Kotetsu having offered something about himself first. Kotetsu wondered if this meant anything.
“I—well—there were circumstances,” Kotetsu said. “I was offered the training when I didn’t get into a college—and I didn’t have a job at the time. My mother was sick, and bills needed to get paid. Pretty cliché story, huh?”
“Cliché but real,” Barnaby added.
“I don’t think so. What normal person would choose an occupation where they’d have to kill people regularly? I got used to it after the first few years. But sometimes I ask myself if it’s a good thing that I got desensitized to it.”
“If it took you a couple of years, then what does that say about the person who was desensitized to the idea after their first kill?”
Kotetsu, somehow recognizing that they were treading water, kept tactfully silent about the implications of the question. “It’s not good to be a natural, is it?”
“No,” Barnaby said. “But nothing’s going to change that fact anyways.”
“Oh shoot, I can’t come with you on that mission. It’s my day off,” Kotetsu said in a phone call with Barnaby. “Can’t we just move it up one day—”
“Oh, sure,” Barnaby sarcastically said. “Yeah, I’ll just call up the governor right now and tell him we’ll be delaying his own assassination attempt one day. I’m sure he’ll be grateful.”
“Is there a reason why it has to get done on that specific day?”
“We have a small window of time to make it look natural. If the other organizations knew it was one of us, they might come after us.”
“That’s bad.”
Barnaby rolled his eyes. “So?”
“…It’s my daughter’s birthday and I’ve missed the past three birthdays already,” Kotetsu explained. “It’s a curse, I tell you! How am I supposed to control when these important missions show up! It’s not my fault they always happen on my daughter’s birthday!”
Barnaby sighed. “Fine. I’ll figure something else out, then.”
“Really!?”
“Yeah. You go enjoy your time with your daughter. I’ll be fine.”
“Wait—”
Barnaby hung up the phone before Kotetsu could finish. He ignored the following calls from Kotetsu after that.
Barnaby wasn’t prepared for an ambush awaiting him. Maybe he should’ve taken Kotetu’s advice to heart. Actually, he should’ve really asked the organization for a temporary partner, but he was stubborn, and he thought they would ask questions about Kotetsu if Barnaby was weirdly insistent on things.
So, Barnaby wandered the halls of the “vacation home” bleeding, hiding in a closet trying to contact HQ but no luck. No cell service. Damn.
He might actually die here.
He was always prepared for the day it would come—all assassins anticipate it. He reflected back on the short conversation Antonio and Nathan exchanged—and strangely wondered if maybe that was why even though Kotetsu was in a better place now, his mom out of the hospital and his savings enough to last both him and his daughter to live comfortably, he refused to leave the organization despite always citing never having enough time for said daughter.
Gunshots began to fire in the distance. Barnaby’s eyebrows furrowed.
The closet door opened. Kotetsu stood there, blood staining his suit, with an unamused expression. “Idiot, you should’ve told me you were planning on coming alone! This is why they partnered us up in the first place!”
Barnaby hated admitting he was wrong, so he didn’t. “You’re the idiot for abandoning your daughter just to come save me.”
“It’s fine. She likes it better this way because she likes it when I owe her bigtime,” Kotetsu grumbled. He reached out a hand to Barnaby, and Barnaby took it to lift himself off the ground. His left arm was pressing against the nonfatal wound that grazed his skin, Kotetsu supporting him as he tried to balance himself on wobbly legs.
“Let’s get to the hideout, there’s a first aid kit waiting for you there,” Kotetsu said. Suddenly, he seemed reliable. Barnaby couldn’t tell if it was rose-colored glasses or if Kotetsu was actually taking the mission seriously for once.
While Kotetsu was wrapped the bandages around the wound in Barnaby’s body, Kotetsu casually asked, “So why did you choose to become an assassin?”
“Revenge,” was Barnaby’s curt answer.
“You don’t see much of that anymore nowadays,” Kotetsu joked. “Wonder if it’s out of style now.”
“Just admit it, old man. We’re two walking clichés,” Barnaby said. “But it fits us, I think.”
“Did—Did you just make a joke?” Kotetsu gasped. “Bunny-chan made a joke? Is it actually my birthday!?”
“You overdramatize everything. You should’ve become a radio-show host instead, or something.”
“People tell me I have a good voice,” Kotetsu said with a prideful smirk. “Maybe Kaede would be tell her friends what a cool job her dad has.”
“I don’t think she would find it cool.”
“…”
Revenge was a strong word, and it led to Kotetsu whipping out his gun faster than the blink of an eye, and he had to aim it at his own partner. Partner. He never really thought the day would come when he’d put much meaning in such a word. He’d always work solo, though not by choice, but he never thought he’d really like working with someone either.
“I can’t go against the organization,” Kotetsu said, holding the gun steady aimed straight at Barnaby’s face. “You know why I can’t. I can’t risk them going after Kaede because of me.”
“That’s assuming if we fail.”
“Why are you even trusting me with this information? I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear it.” Kotetsu lowered his gun to plug his ears. “Lalalalalala, nothing’s coming in.”
Barnaby yanked one of Kotetsu’s hand away from his ears. “I’m serious.”
“I know you are. There’s never a moment where you’re not serious.”
“Stop it.”
“Tell me I’m wrong,” Kotetsu challenged.
“Focus,” Barnaby snapped. “Are you with me? Or are you not?”
“Don’t make me choose,” Kotetsu softly said. “Between you and my daughter. How could I?”
“…Wouldn’t you just choose your daughter?”
“At the cost of your life? I’d rather choose neither,” Kotetsu said, voice solemn. “So, I won’t choose. You can do whatever you want, but you’ll probably fail. And die.”
“That’s why I need your help,” Barnaby said. “Because I can’t do this alone, no matter how much I think I can. It’s one of the only things I learned while being partnered with you.”
“There’s an insult in there somewhere.”
Barnaby smiled, but the humor was left out in his eyes. “I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” Kotetsu said. “Lil’ Bunny-chan’s all grown up now.”
“Ugh,” Barnaby groaned, but he smiled. It wasn’t a very genuine smile—a bit too sarcastic, but sentimental, nonetheless. He smiled at Kotetsu like he couldn’t believe Kotetsu was still making these quips even at a moment like this. “Your verdict?”
Kotetsu cleared his throat. “Well, theoretically, if we were thinking about carrying out this completely impossible plan, it’d need a lot more people than just us. If you’re able to convince the others, I’m on board.”
“Theoretically,” Barnaby said.
“Theoretically,” Kotetsu repeated.
“That’s good enough for me,” Barnaby said. “After we’re done, why don’t we take a vacation somewhere? You could bring Kaede along, finally get some of that daughter-father bonding time you’re always complaining about not having.”
“I’m afraid of letting you guys meet. You’re much cooler than me, so she’ll start wishing you were her dad instead.”
“She wouldn’t be wrong.”
“Hey!”
“I’m thinking… Hawaii. Or maybe somewhere in Europe.”
“I’ll need to ask Kaede what her preference is first.”
“Sounds good to me.”