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Jul. 7th, 2020 12:00 am| mailbox Leave all mail for Kotetsu here. |
Rebuilding a career as a superhero is no easy feat for Kotetsu. Far from it, it's been downright disheartening at times; while he's good at keeping track of the various villainous types running around through the city, being a good tracker also means that he's started to take plenty of notice of the young upstarts who have taken it upon themselves to police and protect the civilian population. And if there's one thing that he knows, it's that no matter how much experience he has, no matter how good his instincts are, he doesn't come even close to being able to compete to their sheer youth.
They're sharper. In some cases, stronger. And none of them have to experience the typical problems with an old man's endurance — achy back, creaky joints, pains where no pains should be allowed.
It isn't that Kotetsu begrudges the youths their health. Far from it. He's always believed that the younger generation should be given all of the opportunity in the world to take the lead. He'd rather bet on the future than take all the weight on himself. But being acutely aware of his own mortality has called some other things into question.
Perhaps most notably, whether or not he should be holding back on whims, on honest emotions that he might have had a myriad of excuses to escape years before.
He doesn't go to her apartment immediately. It takes a few days of hemming and hawing, a few days of pondering their past conversations, the weight of history heavy on both of their shoulders. No matter what, he knows one thing — that whatever thoughts he has, whatever emotions he expresses, in the end none of that stands if she doesn't feel the same way. He may not be young enough to afford years of thought and consideration, but age also gave him the experience to know that there's nothing worse than ruining a friendship with uneven expectations.
Clearing his throat and willing the flush in his cheeks to cool down, Kotetsu raises a hand to Terry's door and knocks once, twice, and a final time, a bouquet of bright yellow roses in hand, the edges of the petals stretching into a soft pink.
They're sharper. In some cases, stronger. And none of them have to experience the typical problems with an old man's endurance — achy back, creaky joints, pains where no pains should be allowed.
It isn't that Kotetsu begrudges the youths their health. Far from it. He's always believed that the younger generation should be given all of the opportunity in the world to take the lead. He'd rather bet on the future than take all the weight on himself. But being acutely aware of his own mortality has called some other things into question.
Perhaps most notably, whether or not he should be holding back on whims, on honest emotions that he might have had a myriad of excuses to escape years before.
He doesn't go to her apartment immediately. It takes a few days of hemming and hawing, a few days of pondering their past conversations, the weight of history heavy on both of their shoulders. No matter what, he knows one thing — that whatever thoughts he has, whatever emotions he expresses, in the end none of that stands if she doesn't feel the same way. He may not be young enough to afford years of thought and consideration, but age also gave him the experience to know that there's nothing worse than ruining a friendship with uneven expectations.
Clearing his throat and willing the flush in his cheeks to cool down, Kotetsu raises a hand to Terry's door and knocks once, twice, and a final time, a bouquet of bright yellow roses in hand, the edges of the petals stretching into a soft pink.
let your freedom begin here
Jan. 17th, 2015 05:25 pmBy the time Kotetsu made it to the fried chicken restaurant, the place was practically empty of customers, making it easy for him to peruse the menu and decide what to order. Having realized that he didn't take down the exact notes of everything that Minako had ordered, Kotetsu decided to play it safe, buying a couple of buckets and at least one order of each side — three of the biscuits, because he was pretty sure those were the most popular — and having a hefty bag in each hand as he made his way back to her apartment.
The fresh air and movement did him good. Having a sense of purpose, however brief and simple, was a lot better than sitting on the stairs and staring aimlessly ahead.
Barnaby was gone, and that would still ache every time he went back to his own apartment, but the loss of one person had already led Kotetsu to make another friend. He wouldn't let himself fall into the same deep hole he'd lingered in after Tomoe's death.
He couldn't.
Making his way to Minako's apartment by taking the stairs, mostly to make sure that his legs were in good working order after being out for so long, Kotetsu perked up once he reached her door. Maneuvering both bags carefully to one hand, he raised the other and rapped smartly.
"Delivery!" he called out with a smile, hoping he wasn't disturbing any of her neighbors.
The fresh air and movement did him good. Having a sense of purpose, however brief and simple, was a lot better than sitting on the stairs and staring aimlessly ahead.
Barnaby was gone, and that would still ache every time he went back to his own apartment, but the loss of one person had already led Kotetsu to make another friend. He wouldn't let himself fall into the same deep hole he'd lingered in after Tomoe's death.
He couldn't.
Making his way to Minako's apartment by taking the stairs, mostly to make sure that his legs were in good working order after being out for so long, Kotetsu perked up once he reached her door. Maneuvering both bags carefully to one hand, he raised the other and rapped smartly.
"Delivery!" he called out with a smile, hoping he wasn't disturbing any of her neighbors.
The date crept up on him, mostly because he didn't know to look out for it in the first place. A day designated to celebrate fathers, marked by the persistent marketing of presents in every retail shop window. While Kotetsu isn't the type of father who requires being acknowledged in such a commercial way, the day serves as a reminder of what he doesn't have in the city. The one real source of discontent, far more than the (relative) peace and quiet, far more than not having as much to fill his time.
The lack of his family.
Since moving in with Barnaby, Kotetsu's managed to calm his outbursts for the most part. Fewer temper tantrums. More smiles in the apartment as they work on preparing dinner together. It's been years since he's lived so well with another person. Been years since he's enjoyed that level of intimacy.
But however often he counts his blessings, Kotetsu feels the loss as acutely as ever, and today he can't help but brood in the time he has away from Barnaby. With a carefully disguised six pack of beer, he wanders through the park, finding a bench hidden behind a couple of trees to seat himself down on.
Popping the top of the first one, Kotetsu takes a long gulp, smacking his lips loudly afterward.
"Sorry sight, isn't it?" he mutters to himself, the cool rim of the can lingering by his lips. "Pretty sure this is the height of uncool, Kaede. Papa's sorry."
The lack of his family.
Since moving in with Barnaby, Kotetsu's managed to calm his outbursts for the most part. Fewer temper tantrums. More smiles in the apartment as they work on preparing dinner together. It's been years since he's lived so well with another person. Been years since he's enjoyed that level of intimacy.
But however often he counts his blessings, Kotetsu feels the loss as acutely as ever, and today he can't help but brood in the time he has away from Barnaby. With a carefully disguised six pack of beer, he wanders through the park, finding a bench hidden behind a couple of trees to seat himself down on.
Popping the top of the first one, Kotetsu takes a long gulp, smacking his lips loudly afterward.
"Sorry sight, isn't it?" he mutters to himself, the cool rim of the can lingering by his lips. "Pretty sure this is the height of uncool, Kaede. Papa's sorry."