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This was the most ridiculous yet awful thing that has ever happened to him.
This was the sole thought that was zipping through Yamato’s mind with all the panicked grace of a headless chicken. There wasn’t much room for anything else, considering his full attention was on the burning agony lacing through every inch of his being – most notably his limbs. His poor, abused, limbs.
A waft of sulphuric air blew right into Yamato’s face then, and he stifled the urge to break into a series of coughs, his breaths already coming out short and pained as he strained against the jaws trying to crush him whole. He wedged his feet in harder between the sharp teeth jutting out of black gums when the large snake violently whipped its head to the side, his arms shaking as they struggled to hold up the upper jaw from slamming down on him.
And the teeth. The very sharp teeth that were barely an inch away from impaling his skull.
From beyond this little emergency, Yamato could hear the sounds of chaos as the snake’s second head shrieked and rained ice cold fire upon the others of his team, leaving rescue a very slim chance. He had already been trapped within Nehebkau’s mouth for over ten minutes, and he doubted he was going to last longer than that. The snake was growing increasingly furious the longer Yamato held its jaws open, and he was beginning to tire just as quickly.
“Hngh…!”
Yamato felt his arms begin to buckle slightly, and he ducked his head, wrinkling his nose at the mix of saliva and venom pooling around his boots. If he survived this he was going to drown himself in the bathtub to get the smell out-
“Yamato!”
The call was faint, but Yamato could recognise Hiro’s voice anywhere. He grunted out a strained reply, and was practically deafened when Nehebkau screamed suddenly, its head thrashing about wildly. His foot slipped, but he managed to slam it against one protruding fang before his loss of balance ended his life, almost choking on the rising smell of sulphur.
He squinted, a sudden heat making his exposed skin prickle uncomfortably, and paled rapidly when the back of Nehebkau’s throat started to glow with bubbling fire, almost white-hot in its intensity.
Of course. The second head shot out ice, so this one would-
Yamato could see fire beginning to creep up the snake’s gullet, the smell of sulphur thickening to the point where he was struggling to breathe – or that might be the tight bands of panic restricting his lungs. It was hard to tell. In any case, it did not look good. He was trapped in the snake’s mouth, Hiro was apparently too occupied with the second head, and Yamato was about to become a flambé Chief.
The pressure bearing down on Yamato lessened by only a fraction as the snake demon prepared to spit out a volley of fire – and by now the heat was so intense that Yamato felt ready to spontaneously combust at any second. In that brief moment of relief given to him, Yamato wretched his arm from where it had been pressing up against slimy black gums and frantically pressed onto the phone he had kept an iron grip on.
(No matter his state, Yamato had learned to always keep his phone in his hand, whether he be on fire, frozen or electrocuted)
The phone beeped, his command processed, Nehebkau’s mouth filled with smoke and heat, a great whistling of air rushing past Yamato’s ears as the snake prepared to exhale and-
Too late Yamato realised that he had switched Bufudyne for Ziodyne when fighting the second head. The sky rumbled ominously, and Yamato had a split-second to be horrified over his mistake before six hundred thousand volts of electricity slammed into the snake demon’s head – and sadly Yamato, who was currently very wet and conductive despite the rubber on his boots.
Of course, Yamato didn’t have time to reflect on his blunder since being electrocuted kind of scattered one’s brain. As soon as the lightning struck, Yamato felt an intense agony that blossomed into a numbing whiteness, followed by a strange sense of weightlessness.
What happened was something that would be quite humorous in retrospect, but at the time, was quite awful.
As soon as the lightning struck Nehebkau, the snake was sent into violent spasms that affected the second, Ice-orientated head just as badly as the Fire one. The massive snake, almost sixty feet long, thrashed and writhed as the electricity coursed through its very being before the head containing one JP’s Chief whipped back, thankfully releasing the thoroughly electrocuted man – although at the cost of launching him high into the air.
This meant that Yamato Hotsuin, a very fragile, squishy human, was propelled well across the battlefield, several tens of feet off of the ground, towards the cracked pavement of the ruined street. Now, thankfully, Yamato had equipped Null Physical before entering this battle – however, there was only so much Null Physical could do when falling at terminal velocity towards an unforgiving stretch of rock hard cement.
Yamato bounced.
He slammed hard into the pavement, about hundred and fifty metres away from Nehebkau, bounced once, twice, and then rolled until he hit a half-crumbled wall, thoroughly winded and clinging to consciousness through a befuddled sort of stubbornness.
A strange, wheezing whimper of pain slipped out of him while he lay there, the world wobbling about like the deck of a ship in a storm, a small twitch tormenting his sore muscles as he worked out the overpowered Ziodyne spell. Elec Amp had bitten him in the ass.
“Yamato!” Hiro’s voice pierced the white fog of pain, and Yamato could only managed another pained noise before he heard the heavy sound of boots hitting the ground. A few seconds later hands were gently rolling him over from where he had been lying face down, a wash of warm healing energy following.
“You alright?” Hiro’s face came into view, sooty and with wisps of snow caught in his hair that was rapidly melting. Yamato blinked in fuzzy confusion, his brain still not having recovered from the shock, and smashing repeatedly into the ground at Mach 1.
“Hey, hey, how many fingers am I holding up?” Hiro tutted, holding up his fingers. Yamato squinted, his blurred vision making it a bit difficult.
“Four…”
“Alright, you’re fine,” Hiro said, his expression relieved before hauling Yamato up to his feet. The Chief staggered a little, but another casting of Diarama made him feel a bit steadier on his feet. He still felt awful mind you, but he could at least think clearly now.
“Where…were you?” Yamato asked, finding it a bit difficult to work his jaw to speak clearly, lifting a gloved hand to rub his cheek. It felt thoroughly bruised.
“Was preoccupied with the, um, other snake…” Hiro wasn’t looking at Yamato, and judging by how his shoulders were quivering, was obviously fighting not to laugh. Yamato frowned. He was sure he made a ridiculous image being thrown across the battlefield like that, but nothing to laugh over…
“What-”
“Yamato,” Hiro interrupted, glancing at Yamato from the corner of his eye. “Your, er, hair…”
His hair?
Yamato lifted up a hand, and instantly felt appalled when he felt that it was fluffed out in a ridiculous manner – almost an afro really – from all the electricity that had shot through him earlier. He scowled darkly, frantically combing his fingers through his hair in an attempt to flatten it while Hiro lost the battle and howled with laughter.
Yamato went to spit out a snarled curse at him – but his gaze caught at something behind the guffawing Hiro and without warning he threw himself flat on the ground.
Hiro realised it too late.
Nehebkau, who had recovered from its electrocution, did not appreciate its prey escaping from its mouth in such a painful manner. So once it had managed to writhe about in a forward momentum, it rampaged over to where Yamato and Hiro were, followed by the strong swing of a muscular tail. Yamato dodged it. Hiro…
Was sent flying across the battlefield and into a pile of rubble with a satisfying thudding noise. Yamato smirked.
Oh, Hiro would be fine. He had Anti-Physical.
…of course, he could still be hurt, but the bastard deserved it.
Yamato leapt back to his feet, and came almost face to face with both snarling mouths of the snake. Shouts followed them, the rest of the (incompetent) team chasing after the snake before it could have Round Two in swallowing Yamato but.
Yamato was Fed Up.
He was covered in demon snake spit, he was sore, twitchy and Angry and his hair was a horrible afro’d mess and all he wanted to do was crawl into a shower and never leave he was DONE.
He may have switched Bufudyne for Ziodyne, but he still had Holy Dance equipped.
And it was so so satisfying to send a furious barrage of energy right down both of the snake’s throats – even if it ended in a very, very, messy, way…
It was worth it.
Hiro was grinning, quite stupidly in Yamato’s opinion, but if he could still smile after being smacked around by several tonnes of angry snake, anything Yamato did to him wasn’t going to make a difference.
The battlefield was slick with blood, even if the rest of the demon’s corpse had disintegrated after its…explosive death. There were puddles of it, and Yamato glared dully as Hiro waded through one that went up to his shins as he limped over to him, one hand pressing against his ribs.
Fuh. He only looked bruised.
“What are you grinning about?” Yamato snarled, his stare positively venomous as he scraped a thick layer of blood and slime off of his shoulder. His hair was thankfully no longer an afro, but it had been plastered down by the viscous bodily fluids of the now expired Nehebkau instead. Not exactly a good trade off.
“You,” Hiro said truthfully as he came to a stop near him. His breathing was accompanied by a bit of stridor, but it didn’t punctuate Hiro’s mood any. “You look ridiculous.”
“Hrn. You would know, being the authority on ridiculous things,” Yamato spat, knowing it wasn’t his best comeback but not really giving a damn. The roar of an overhead chopper made him narrow his eyes upwards, but slight tension in his shoulders relaxed when it wasn’t a News Chopper. Good. Their ride back to base was here.
“Don’t get catty,” Hiro tutted, and he reached over to peel a piece of scaled hide off of Yamato’s head. “What did you do, roll about in its guts? This is gross. You’re gross.”
“I will backhand you,” Yamato warned, lifting his hand up threateningly. Hiro just leered back at him.
“Like I’m scared of your pimp slaps. Seriously, you’re going to have to drown yourself in a bath – you smell- OW!”
Yamato made good on his threat and backhanded Hiro without looking at him, striding over to where the chopper was touching down on a flat, yet woefully blood smeared surface. Hiro’s grumbles were drowned out by the spinning rotors, and when Yamato made as if to climb onto it, he paused and turned to face a grumpy looking Hiro.
Yamato was positively grinning.
“Hiro,” he purred, although the effect was ruined by him having to basically shout to be heard, “As you seem quite energetic and untouched, you can oversee the clean up here.”
Hiro stared at him. His eyes clearly screamed God no.
Yamato was thrilled.
“Wonderful. Report back once you have finished – and do take care of any journalists that come sniffing about. You know how to handle it.”
“Yamato-!” Hiro yelped, reaching out as if to grab onto Yamato – but the Chief had already boarded onto the helicopter, and it started to rise. Instead all Hiro could do was glower up at the now no longer visible smug face of his partner. “Fffu- fine! I was going to give you takoyaki but I GUESS NOT YOU-”
Yamato didn’t hear what he was, since Hiro’s voice was drowned out completely. He settled back gingerly in his seat, ignoring how the JP’s members in the chopper tried to lean away from him, or discreetly covered their noses. Hm, he did kind of smell.
But, Yamato thought with a cheerful smile, Hiro would soon suffer with him.
…god he was right, they were both utterly ridiculous.