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Normally, Tsukasa loved chase scenes.
The righteous nature of them, him hot on the heels of a fleeing villain, justice ablaze in his heart and, even when he couldn’t quite see it, it was easy enough to envision how cool he looked when he descended from above to topple the evildoer with a glorious line sure to haunt them for weeks.
But this…
Orange Eagle’s gloved hands were shaking from barely restrained fury, clutching onto the front of White Crow’s pristine suit as he dragged her onto her toes. Salmon Pink’s distressed squeak did nothing to defuse the tension.
“Why aren’t you denying it?! That—what that chick from the Fussy Eaters said, about you being a villain! Why the hell aren’t you saying—”
He gave White Crow another shake; in direct and chilling contrast, her expression remained strangely composed, lacking her usual sweet smile.
… No, he thought, it wasn’t composure. She didn’t look as though she was feeling anything at all. The light in her eyes had utterly vanished, snuffed out with a single blink. Like it had never been there at all.
Finally, she spoke.
“There’s nothing to deny.”
This chase, Tsukasa thought grimly, wasn’t enjoyable or exhilarating at all. How could it be? The person he was chasing had once stood by his side, after all. She had been his teammate. Quiet but amicable, highly intelligent, always stepping in to mediate, ready with a solution even before he could fully describe the problem…
The person he had viewed confidently as a fellow hero was fleeing from him now, her true nature revealed.
He could see that white in front of him now, just barely, ponytail whipping in the wind. White Crow had, much to his chagrin, always been faster. All of the Rangers were particularly swift (when Salmon Pink trained her stamina and refrained from tripping), but she somehow always made it look so graceful and effortless.
If the civilians looked up now, to see White Crow leaping agilely from roof to roof with Pegasus-man Red in hot pursuit, what would they think? Would they think they were chasing some unseen villain together, as they always had?
Or would any of them suspect that there had been some sort of falling-out? Would they glance up and think that White Crow had been outed as a villain and that Pegasus-man Red was, as always, chasing after someone dastardly to bring her to justice?
Tsukasa frowned to himself. No. Even in his own head, that narrative didn’t feel accurate.
Because…
"Wait! Waitwaitwaitwaaaait!" Peep Peep Rainbow wailed, hip-bumping Orange Eagle out of the way; he stumbled, letting go of White Crow, who took a step back. Then another. "Mafuyu-chan isn't a bad girl! Just because she was originally—"
"That's enough." White Crow's voice remained dull and flat. "I'm done with playing pretend with all of you."
Because White Crow, she—
It was true enough that she wasn't the easiest person to read. She'd always been patient and polite, with a smile ready for anyone and everyone. She had a soft and soothing voice, especially when they visited the hospitals to raise the spirits of the ill and injured children staying there. More than once, Tsukasa had found himself leaning in the doorway, listening to Mafuyu read stories to a bunch of wide-eyed and avidly engrossed children—and, more than once, he would run into the room to provide voices for the more colorful characters in the tale being told, to the children's delight.
And she never complained. They trained together often, of course, and oftentimes their training ran late. Akito would grumble about how it really wasn't necessary for them to have to stick the timing of their finisher poses or yell their attacks. Minori was constantly optimistic but did deflate a bit whenever she tripped during a spar or couldn't quite match her pose with the others.
But Mafuyu? She would gently remind Akito that the children who looked up to and supported them would find greater inspiration if they gave them something to get excited about. She'd work with Minori to help her sense of timing and when Tsukasa still had so much energy after everything, she'd hang back to spar with him until he was satisfied.
She didn't smile then. But the focus in her expression and the determination in her eyes as they exchanged kicks and blows… had felt so sincere. In those moments, it felt as though Tsukasa truly understood her. That they felt the same. They both wanted to get stronger, to protect the smiles of children everywhere. And…
For just the briefest of seconds, he'd seen it. Before the impervious mask. The flash of something… more vulnerable. Almost heartbroken.
He needed to stop her. He needed to talk to her. He—
—Skidded to a stop abruptly on one of the building roofs, ducking a leg as White Crow launched a kick directly at where his head had been two seconds ago.
Oh. He'd been direct in his pursuit but lost in his thoughts and she'd apparently decided to end the chase much more decisively than trying to elude him.
"W-White Crow?!" The gasp was more wounded than he'd wanted to sound. More startled, instead of a declaration.
She stared at him impassively, lowering her leg—which meant nothing, really. Even standing still, she was emanating hostility. He knew more than most just how dangerous his (former) teammate could be when underestimated.
"I don't know why you sound so surprised." Her eyes were still so dull, devoid of light. He would have leapt to the possibility of mind control, had he not suspected that maybe… all along, she'd been forcing herself to be a certain way. Her smile had seemed tired at times. "Shouldn't you have accepted the truth by now? I'm a villain."
Tsukasa bristled. "You're not."
"I'm a liar—" White Crow darted forward, but this time he was prepared, bringing his arms up to catch her next blow. Undeterred, she swung again, seemingly determined to break his guard. "—Who's been deceiving you all along. And you fell for it. I'm your enemy."
"You're not!" Much to Tsukasa's chagrin, he couldn't merely stay on the defensive—something that would have rankled him at any time, but when it came to now, to the possibility that he would actually have to hurt her, his (former) teammate—
(The girl who was so gentle with children, who sat with him during days where homework had to come before missions and patiently gave him tips on English, who talked about how much she admired his drive to bring smiles to everyone, who sometimes lingered at the edge of things until he dragged her in to ensure she was included, who was always the first to look over everyone else for injuries before her own were even a consideration to her—)
One particularly hard kick from White Crow sent him staggering back and the thought flashed briefly across his mind that at least she wasn't using her finisher. No silvery arrows were raining down from the sky to freeze him solid. Small favors.
But she was still attacking him with intent to harm; after so long fighting by her side and sparring with her, Tsukasa could tell the difference. She wasn't pulling her punches. For whatever reason she had for… any of this, she wanted a decisive end to it.
Fine.
Fine.
This time, his fist met hers, and Tsukasa dug his heels in, pushing her back. Before she could fully regain her balance, she swung again, fist glancing off her chin. White Crow didn't even flinch in pain, launching herself forward to close the distance, and just dimly, he could hear the not-so-distant rumble of thunder.
Which he then promptly forgot about until he blinked to clear his head from the dizziness and the ringing in his ears and realized just how hard it was raining and just how long they'd been fighting with neither really gaining ground on the other.
White Crow was soaked, ponytail a sodden lump over one shoulder, and her once pristine costume now sported splotches of gray and brown from where he'd thrown her to the ground more than once. She'd slowed down by now, panting softly as she stared at him through narrowed eyes.
Tsukasa wasn't much better, just as drenched. His wet bangs felt uncomfortable on his forehead, his body felt like one big ache, and he wondered if this was her plan: to merely drag this out until he gave up.
"This is idiotic…" And indeed, she spoke up now, and there was a thread of irritation to her voice. Something like exhausted desperation. "Just let me go—"
She spun into a vicious roundhouse kick; Tsukasa caught her foot seconds after it connected with his chest, letting out a wheeze as his ribs protested the intrusion.
He yanked and White Crow nearly fell, hopping a few steps to keep that from happening. But then her other foot came flying at him, forcing him to release the first, and she flipped back on her hands and rose again.
Shakily. She was tiring. Or maybe she'd been tired.
Tsukasa glared at her, well aware that his jaw had set stubbornly.
"I'm not letting you go! If you're as much as a villain as you say you are, then take responsibility!!"
The laugh that left her throat was hollow, at best. "That never worked on any of the villains, no matter how often you said it."
Before he could retort, his gaze fell to her hand. More specifically, the silvery glow that was beginning to shimmer in her palm. She was planning on ending this.
"It doesn't matter anymore," White Crow continued. "I was never one of you."
He wasn't sure what it was, in that moment. The quiet way she stated it, resigned. The way her chin lowered. Some faint glimmer in her eyes that held little but dark shadows and turbulent clouds now.
But whatever it was that sparked a reaction, it was a spark nonetheless.
Tsukasa lunged forward with all his strength, knocking his opponent backwards—and down. Before she could surge back up, eyes wide but body tensed and poised to react, his fingers dug into the front of her uniform and his knees settled on either side of her, keeping her trapped underneath him and forced to meet his fierce gaze.
"You…" He'd never heard his own voice like this. Determined, yes. Angry, certainly. But it felt like he was forcing the words through gravel, his voice rasping out of him. "White Crow—no, Mafuyu! From the second Miku brought you to us, you've been one of us! You've always been one of us!! And I don't care how much you try to run away, if you can't beat me here and now and convince me that you really want to leave us, I'm never accepting your resignation from the Zoo Rangers! I'll just bring you back, time and time again, until you get it! That even if you started off as a villain, you're just as much a hero as the rest of us! And the kids know it just as much as I do!!"
Despite pinning her down, he was also holding her up through his grip alone; Mafuyu's back was no longer touching the ground, her body limp and unresisting, as though all the fight had drained out of her the second he had called her name.
"You've always said… villains were cruel and nefarious… and needed to be punished by the righteous." Her voice felt like fragments, sugar specks of glass. So soft, so small.
So painful.
"I've been lying to you… to all of you for all this time. I was given the power to be a villain. So why aren't you punishing me, Tenma-san?"
Tsukasa looked down at her. There was a pallor to her skin now, her lips pressed together in a thin line. For all the cold distance she'd displayed upon them learning the truth and the ferocity she'd fought him with, now she only bore an air of weary misery.
Maybe she'd been prepared for this all along.
Even though, he thought, with just how perceptive she was, she should have known just how much the Rangers treasured her.
Then again, maybe he should have stopped assuming well before now.
Mafuyu had always maintained a smiling and agreeable distance from the group. Close enough to be friendly, but never fully stepping across that line into revealing weaknesses, like Minori did, or butting heads when Akito got annoyed with his motivational speeches. She'd just had flickers of Something beyond that, especially when she treated their injuries or apologized for having to leave a debriefing early because her mother expected her back by dinner.
They'd acted as they always had. They'd always treated her as they'd treated each other, even as their newest member. But… they'd never said it outright, had they?
"Why do I need to punish you?" Tsukasa's voice wavered. "Why do I have to do that, when you've already been punishing yourself?"
Mafuyu drew in a breath, just barely audible. In this downpour, the only reason he could hear it at all was due to proximity. "I don't…" She swallowed. "I don't deserve—"
"You had every opportunity to be villainous," Tsukasa interrupted, the fierceness seeping into his tone again. "At any point, you could have taken advantage of our trust and taken us down when our backs were turned. You could have sabotaged our missions. But you didn't. Why was that?"
Mafuyu squeezed her eyes shut, as though she couldn't bear to look at him and answer truthfully simultaneously. "I… don't know. I just thought… seeing you all, acting so straightforwardly, to make children smile, I—didn't want to take that away. You were all so warm. And I didn't actually want my wish to come true. But still, Tenma-san, I'm still a—"
"Tsukasa."
"… Eh?"
"Call me Tsukasa. And you're not a villain. If you keep insisting you are, you'll leave me no choice but to defeat you."
There was a beat of silence. He caught a glimpse of utter confusion in Mafuyu's eyes when she opened them again.
"But I am—"
He wasn't necessarily thinking of the best way to go about this. He wasn't necessarily thinking at all, at this point.
It was just one too many late nights of patrolling for villainy, shoulders touching as they worked on homework together, fingers brushing as they let go after pulling each other up, her gentle smile as the children shook their hands and thanked them for being such cool heroes, and the way she'd simply accepted all of that would mean nothing in the face of having started from a different origin than his own.
It was the adrenaline still coursing through his veins and his heart in his throat and the fact that he couldn't—wouldn't—lose her.
All it took was one more tug to pull her closer, and then one hand rested at her back, keeping her supported, as he kissed her like he'd only just now realized he'd wanted to for months.
He felt, more than heard, Mafuyu gasp against his mouth, but she seemed more surprised than outright averse to it. She didn't try to pull away, but neither was she entirely pliant; after a few seconds, one hand gripped at his shoulder and she pushed back with a heated huff against his lips.
Once again, Tsukasa lost track of time, his world narrowed down to the quiet, shaky breaths they shared and how soft her lips were and how she tasted like rain.
He drew back eventually, but only to rock back into a seated position, bringing Mafuyu along with him. After a pause, she dropped her forehead against his shoulder. He could feel her trembling and, confident she wasn't going to try to either flee or break his nose, he wrapped his arms around her to keep her there.
"And with that," he said at length, "the villain has been defeated and the two heroes returned to base, where it was warm and dry."
Mafuyu's sigh was a little wry. "I don't remember you kissing villains to defeat them, Tenma-san."
"Tsukasa," he corrected her. "And I only make very special exceptions for one person who was never a villain in my eyes but has been pretty stubborn about insisting she is, so—!"
Wait. Reality came crashing in, even harder than her kicks had felt.
He'd just—
Had he really just—
She hadn't pushed him away, and he was fairly certain she'd responded favorably, but all the same, to just force a kiss on her without warning—!!
"By! The way!!" Tsukasa's voice teetered into a slightly panicked falsetto, cracked, and pitched back to normal (though still slightly panicked). "I earnestly apologize for being so forward and forcing you to endure the full force of my unhindered em—"
"Tsukasa." Her voice was so quiet he nearly missed it, but it also felt as though that simple utterance was the only thing he could have heard, despite the downpour.
Automatically, he stiffened. "Yes!!"
Mafuyu sat up, peering at him solemnly. Tsukasa wasn't sure what to expect, so he waited, his theories ranging from her shaking him for kissing her without permission or asking him flatly for a full-length essay detailing why he had kissed her in the first place or bodily throwing him off the building or maybe, just maybe kissing him again—
She did none of those things. Instead, she closed her eyes and took a breath.
"Let's head back. You'll get sick if we stay out here much longer."
For such a simple statement, it said a lot. She was coming back, of her own volition. She was willing to try. To keep trying. To stay.
Giving in to just one more selfish whim, Tsukasa pressed their foreheads together, swallowing a lump in his throat. There was a lot he could have said in that moment, but none of it would emerge, until he cleared his throat and moved to get them both back on their feet.
"Don't underestimate your leader, White Crow! A hero never gets sick!!"
Mafuyu said nothing, but let him hold her hand all the way back to the base.
(In the end, they both wound up with fevers, and neither bothered protesting when Akito called them both idiots.)