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How to describe Edgar? Fuck, Fang had no clue. Maybe that he was an idiot. You have to admit, what kind of guy would just charge straight into the battlefield with health lower than the holes Jacky digs when she loses? A madman, that’s what. It was one of the most vivid memories Fang had when he first teamed up with him. The kid must’ve had a death wish seeing the guts he has to start jumping at the enemy while carrying the most gems. Edgar screaming as he does it was the funny bit though so Fang would overlook it sometimes. However, thinking about the boy made Fang’s head hurt again.
His vision dimmed for a second and he felt himself fall to his knees, grunting. When his eyes were finally back into focus, he was on his back, staring at the blue sky. No sooner did that happen, something near him — just right over the wall in front — exploded and a shadow flew above. Another sound rumbled through the field, one that suspiciously sounded like Amber’s fire followed by Bull yelling as he broke through walls.
Oh god, Fang cursed, wincing as he felt another pang of pain in his head. What the hell…?
With difficulty he forced himself up. Both of his legs ached and it felt like it was sawed off and glued back with staples only. Fang ducked as another debris flew over his head.
The sight of ten green power cubes glowed when he glanced up quickly. No doubt people are coming after his ass. Speaking of that, now he remembered what happened. He was fighting in the Dark Passage with Carl. That minion looking thing… Fang should’ve just run away instead of teaming up with that guy. He thought it would’ve been fine, cause well, you know, he’s Fang the Great and all. In fact he’s never lost when it comes to duos. All he had to do was pop off with his kicks, feet flat to their faces, and wa-bam! Pow! And they’re out! As easy as ABC as he likes to say.
But looking at the situation now it was rather grim. Fang swore that he had twisted his ankle. That wouldn’t have happened if Carl just had helped take down the low health Bibi swinging her bat wildly. She then summoned a huge bubble gum after them and that’s where everything went downhill. His teammate was chased off somewhere and he escaped the bloodbath in the center where everyone was fighting for more power cubes.
As he kept going Fang remembered he still had his super; which was to use for escape.
He wanted to laugh. Him? The guy who’s got buttery smooth moves having to run away at some point? There’s no way!
However something had happened: Fang got himself pretty roughed up. The front of his thin shirt had been burned off by Barley’s attacks. At the same time he was fighting the bartender, Bibi got a good smack on his head. That explains the damning headache.
“Get him,” Rico’s robotic voice said somewhere behind him.
“Hahaha, seriously? You wanna fight the Fang?” Fang muttered.
If there was someone out there listening to him he would leave it to them not to be offended with his unspoken profanities.
Without hesitation he turned and aimed his kick at the robot’s head. Hard metal clanged as it bent inward. He turned midair and brought his other leg down on Rosa, which cracked her glasses immediately. With the blood coming out his nose and head spinning, Fang definitely could not think straight. They’re in a line, he noticed dazedly, And close enough .
Him screaming “Furious Fang!” was the only warning they got before he used his super — yellow power bursting through. The good news is it easily made them eat the soil. Power cubes came out and he didn’t bother to count them as he took them and ran. The bad news is his body finally decided it had enough. Without even running two meters away Fang felt himself go weightless and then he was the one eating the ground. He made a sound. Yeah no, he needs his daily popcorn snack. He can't do this anymore.
As he laid there in defeat the sounds of battles and a competition of screaming continued. Rico and Rosa showed no sign of waking up. That’s good. Or maybe Fang had finally lost it because he could feel his body burn up. It’s better if I hide behind a wall… he thought with much difficulty. He could feel his health going up again, but was it enough? Nah. he’s got to make sure no one defeats the Fang — him basically.
Soft green light traveled across his skin as Fang dragged himself towards the yellow bushes. When he reached there he let himself slump against it. His right glove was missing, he noticed. Must’ve been because he threw it at Nita’s bear. That thing was annoying.
His health was almost full now; but his ankles were not getting better.
“So much tryharding, hm?”
Fang whipped his hard so hard he thought he might break it, and made the ungodliest sound when he saw who it was.
“Wow, you’re so awesome,” Edgar commented with an eye roll. That was exactly what he said when they lost in their first team match. If Fang’s leg wasn’t busted as it was he would’ve Fanged the hell out of Edgar. Of course it had to be him of all people to see Fang like this. That’s the typical behavior of the universe hating him.
Anyways Edgar was squatting on top of the wall, his scarf whipping back and forth. His hair was a bit of a mess and his red jacket slightly battered — but other than that he looked pretty much unscathed.
That pissed Fang off a little.
“If you’re here for the power cubes,” he showed his middle finger, “fuck off.”
There was silence.
Edgar also showed his middle finger, black nail polish glinting in the sun. “First of all, fuck you too,” he said sarcastically. “Second of all, do you really not want my help?”
That piqued Fang’s interest. But then he smacked his head and started to grab his shoe off. “I may not be able to kick you but I still have a good aim,” he threatened.
“Chill dude I really am trying to help.”
Edgar started to get up, looking to the side. He seemed to be watching something in the distance. “There’s Brock and Jessie coming your way. They got eight power cubes. Doesn’t seem to be looking good is it?” He glanced over. “So? Need my help?”
Fang felt his health reach full. He also started to get up, leaning against the wall. His super’s out too.
“No take backs right?” he asked suspiciously, fixing his hat.
“I low-key wanna win this game you know.”
“Says the one with the lower health.”
“Pssh, I could do this if I wanted to.”
“Well, enough talking. It’s time for some action.” Fang started hopping on his foot as some kind of warm up. It didn’t hurt as much before. When he looked up, Brock and Jessie started sprinting faster, their weapons ready. They definitely saw him now. He got ready to run. “I need to take eight more and then get out of here. You in for a seven cube reward?” he prompted. Edgar had six himself. It might sound a little.
“B-o-o-oring!” Edgar stuck his tongue out. “Make it nine. I’ll help you get all sixteen.”
Fang grinned. “The heat is on!”
Just like that he took off.
Brock’s rocket came for him first. He easily dodged it. Jessie’s electrical ball came next and he jumped over it. They each attacked at the same time. Fang activated his super then, and the next thing that happened would always be the best thing he’ll ever see. Just like a bullet ricochet, his kick aimed for Brock first and then chained to Jessie. Both of them flew back and Fang instantly went roundhouse kick Jessie. She shrieked like a kid as she went into the bushes, power cubes knocked out of her.
Fang easily snatched them just as Brock tried to nuke him again. Fang dodged the first one but the second time he was too slow to react. He bit his tongue, wondering if it was faster to attack him or kick backwards away. Then a fluttering shadow appeared on the ground.
“Doing great, big guy!”
Fang and Brock looked up at the same time and Edgar planted his foot into Brock’s face. The man fell to his side as the boy landed down. Scarves shot out to start punching the other. Brock ran back to create some distance as he shot his missiles but Edgar healed right after when he landed some punches. Fang gritted his teeth and aimed his kick one more time: right at Brock’s weapon, smacking it out of his hand. The impact of hard metal made Fang’s ankle cave in and he doubled over in pain.
“Fuck!” he yelled.
Edgar grabbed Brock before throwing him over the other side. He looked over his shoulder. “Easy there, you good?”
Fang looked at him with the equivalent deadpan expression of asking “do I look okay?”. Before either of them could say anything Edgar snatched all of the power cubes just as Darryl came out of the bushes. The boy fumbled to shove the cubes into his bag. In the next second, Fang felt arms go around his waist and behind his knees.
“Hang on—”
That was the only warning Fang got before something yellow flashed.
Fang’s stomach dropped when he realized they were abruptly in the air. It happened too fast, and for someone who’s always on the ground, he actually felt his legs turn into jelly.
“Yaaghh… Haaa… Hahahaha…!” Edgar screamed, grinning so wide it actually hurts for Fang to see him do it. It was also almost near horrifying to see both of his eyes revealed from under his hair. Black and white scarf furiously whipped back and forth in the air.
“This is awesome!” Edgar continued to laugh, face flushed. “Hahahaha!”
The nausea set in. The sensation of the wind and the sight of the world becoming small was not doing Fang well. He didn’t even notice that Edgar was carrying him bridal style or the fact that the hands on his waist tightened to get a better hold.
Fang then looked at the ecstatic boy with horror in his eyes.
He really had teamed up with a madman.
.
.
.
“Twenty… twenty-one…”
Fang swallowed to catch his breath. He continued his set of push-ups. “Twenty-three… twenty-four…”
Once he reached the number thirty, the sound of him grunting as he got up echoed in the room. It’s been a day since the brawl incident in Dark Passage. Edgar was kind enough to send him to the nearest hospital in Starr Park, effortlessly jumping on top of roofs. By the end of it all Fang swore that he was going to never feel the ground as still anymore. Edgar immediately disappeared off somewhere once Fang passed his rewards of power cubes though. So much for thinking he was an okay guy.
The doctors said that Fang’s sore leg and sprained ankle was an easy fix; nothing that a day or two rest can’t help. They added that it looks like there was some kind of inflammation for moving his legs too much so he should hold back. Come on, that was like his best move in any scenario — pop and chop and kicks. But now here he was stuck in the hospital room doing his daily leg stretches. He was seriously bored out of his mind.
Well, Fang thought as he continued to hop on one foot. He easily somersaulted backward in the air before landing in a split. That’s what I get for relying on a useless guy.
“Wow, hardcore,” a monotone voice drawled from the left. It wasn’t the fact that no one should be able to say anything from the window since Fang was on the fourth floor that surprised him, it was the fact that it sounded a bit too familiar to his liking. He sighed through his nose and looked up to see Edgar squatting on the open window sill.
“You would’ve gotten a perfect score if you applied to a gymnastic competition,” Edgar continued.
Fang frowned but mostly paid him no mind. He focused on the front wall again.
“Huh… how do I look?” he asked, pushing his bangs back as he tried to reach the end of his legs. He had forgotten to tie his hair up this morning so messy long hair spilled over his shoulder, poking at his eyes. Itchy thick bandages wrapped around his head where a nasty swelling had appeared. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Edgar shrugging.
“Unexpectedly good for an idiot who got himself almost shot and broke an ankle.”
“It’s sprained,” Fang corrected.
“Eh, same difference.”
Fang switched to reach for the other leg. “You’re not the one carrying ten power cubes while defending yourself and it shows.”
“Don’t be salty. It’s not a good look on you.”
Fang could’ve sworn Edgar snickered when he gave him a face at that. It was only then he noticed what the other looked like. His usual styled hair was disheveled; like in a way that he looked like he just went through a typhoon. There was also a burnt hole on one of his sleeves with a buckle on his jacket nowhere to be seen. Fang raised a brow at that, returning to his original position with a kick to the air.
“Hey, is it just me or do you look like you’re the one that got his ass handed to him?” he pointed out. “Just what were you doing?” At that Edgar’s scarf whipped out to cover himself.
“Don’t look at me!” he almost snapped, clearly irritated.
Now that’s an interesting reaction. The boy made a real grim mistake letting Fang see that. A wide grin made its way to his face as he started walking nearer, causing Edgar to edge away.
“What’s this? You didn’t happen to go ahead and dive into the Brawl Stars event by yourself did you?” Fang continued to grin as he nudged Edgar smugly. He asked the other in a childish sing-song voice, “You’re a worthy adversary for doing that. I know a few people who would be reckless enough to go into showdowns alone. Not including me of course.”
“And so what if I did?” Edgar said sharply. “At least I didn’t sprain an ankle like you.”
Fang nodded as he practiced his kicks. He spun once and stomped his foot down, blue light crackling as it made contact with the wall. “Uh-huh. Got any power cubes as spoils of war?”
Edgar straightened up at that. “Yes.”
“How much?”
“...our.”
“What was that?”
“Just four…”
That can’t be right, right? And if it is, that made Fang laugh out loud real hard, enough to make his stomach hurt and his eyes water. It was probably the best laugh he had. He only stopped because Edgar jumped in the room to abruptly grab him by the collar.
“What’s it to you?” he growled, “Got any problem with that?”
“Not at all,” Fang smiled before grinning as he tried to hide his laughter. Of course no one can match the Fang when it comes to power. Even with a broken leg he would’ve probably gotten five power cubes alone. He bit his tongue from saying it out loud though.
That seemed to strike a nerve.
“Smile at me again and I’ll knock your teeth out.”
Edgar’s scarves rose up in a stance to prove his point. Fang immediately raised his hands in mock defeat.
“Ooo scary. A kid with weak stamina is threatening me. How brave,” he said and stuck his tongue out. The hand gripped his shirt tighter. Black eyes curiously glanced down and Fang tapped it to back off. It didn’t, but that’s fine, he could deal with Edgar — he always does. “Alright, how about this then? You need help so what if we pair up for duo showdowns? I’ll send the enemies flying and you can pick their power cubes afterwards.”
“You say it like I’ll be your errand boy.” Edgar suddenly pulled and Fang actually panicked when he stumbled. “Guess what? I’m going to beat their asses and you’re going to be the one who picks the power cubes up.”
It’s way too good pissing people off. It’s fun, Fang thought absentmindedly. He’s always been a troublemaker, taunting people to rile them up. Especially when it comes to Edgar.
He’s too touchy.
Fang wants to poke to set off a reaction.
“Wooh! Is that a competition I hear?” the man grinned as he leaned into Edgar’s space. Blue hair spilled over his shoulder. Edgar made a face but stood his ground.
“Get. Away. From me,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Not until I hear a reply.”
Edgar scowled at that. Probably because Fang was wearing a really smug look.
“...Fine.”
The hand finally let go of Fang.
If he thought about it Edgar should’ve been the one more pissed if Fang opens his mouth to speak. Fang is also intimately aware fighting Brawl Fights involves a lot of making nice with people you loathe if you’re partners, but he wishes that once, just once, Edgar would act like an actual person and not some polished little toy sold in the gift shop he works in.
“Do you ever get tired,” Fang says, “of pretending you’re above all this?”
Edgar stopped whatever he was doing and stared at him. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“I mean, you’re out here, sneaking into my hospital room for… I don’t know, agreeing to my help only if I’m the one who backs you up, swanning around like you hate the attention, which you clearly don’t since you’re still here with me, of all people,” Fang started. “You act like you’re too important to be anywhere. Doesn’t that get exhausting?”
“I’m… not even doing that,” Edgar attempted.
“Ha.”
“Oh,” Edgar said, narrowing his eyes. “You’re screwing with me.”
“I’m just saying,” Fang continued, resting an overly friendly elbow on Edgar’s shoulder, which is as easy as he liked it to be since Edgar has about four funnily inches of lower height on him. “You could try to act like you’re having fun, you know. Occasionally.”
He shrugged with a grin.
“Okay! Challenge accepted nevertheless. Don’t come to me crying if you lose though,” Fang said after a second. He was about to pull back but Edgar’s hand hadn’t left his shirt collar. A sweat dripped down his face. Fang thought that he was over Edgar’s weird attitude but no, but somehow this emo boy still had enough guts to try to annoy him.
“Hey now… do you still have something to say?” he couldn’t help laughing. “Sorry I’m not nice to you like everyone else. I know that must be confusing for you.”
“You know what?” Edgar says. “I think you are.”
Fang’s mouth slightly dropped open, while the corner of Edgar’s turned smug and almost a little mean.
That can never be good news, especially with Edgar.
“Only a thought,” Edgar said, tone excessively sweet and polite. “Have you ever noticed that despite me only having visited you out of good will, you’re the one that actually made the proposal for us to be partners? And because of what? Because I looked like I needed help. I never once mentioned I want one, yet here you are offering your help like the nice guy you are.”
As Edgar was talking he had backed Fang against the wall with an arm over his head — something out of a drama show. The mental image and realization was enough to make Fang almost throw up. Edgar tilted his head. “Just an observation,” he said easily.
A vein popped on Fang’s face. He struggled but managed to flick his middle finger out. “You bastard…”
“I told you.” The boy’s voice sounded smug as he did a thumbs down, and Fang was sure Edgar was grinning under that scarf of his. “Since we agreed to be partners I can’t hurt you. Even I know it’s bad manners. But I’ll still wipe that grin off your face.”
That was also when Fang had a second wave of self-consciousness that they were being too close.
Eyelashes, he thought as he dared to glance up.
Edgar has a set of pretty small lower eyelashes.
Somehow that felt like embarrassing information to know and Fang felt his face heat up.
“Well, thanks for looking out for me, Fang. Good to know I can trust you.” Edgar turned to walk off.
“What? I’m not—” Fang stammered, “You’re the—”
Edgar dismissed Fang with a wave of his hand. “Next week, Monday. I’ll be waiting at the Acid Lakes, I got a quest over there. It gets really hot in the evening so we better start in the afternoon. 2 o’clock. If you don’t come I’ll tell everyone you’re a cow-ward.”
The boy emphasized the last word in two exaggerated syllables.
It drives Fang nuts that Edgar thinks he gets to have the last word, and without thinking, he reaches out and pulls Edgar’s shoulder back. And then Edgar turns, suddenly, and almost does push Fang off him this time, and for a brief spark of a moment, Fang is impressed at the glint in his eyes, the abrupt burst of an actual personality.
“Jeez,” he sighed with finality. “I’ll let you off this time.”
“See? You’re being nice again.”
Before Fang could aim his shoe Edgar had jumped out of the window like the maniac he was.