Chapter Text
One of these days, Atsushi thought blearily, blinking against an impending headache, I'm going to manage not to get dragged into someone else's ability.
Today, unfortunately, wasn't that day.
“Did anyone catch the number of that truck?” The voice came from off to his left, and he turned his head, hissing at a crick in his neck. “Chuuya-san?”
“Yeah. Atsushi, right?” The mafioso wobbled to his feet.
“Yeah. What happened? I don’t think we got hit with an ability…”
“You didn't.” Dazai sat perched on a stack of crates. “That wasn't an ability.”
Chuuya glared at him. “How long have you been awake, bastard?”
The detective smirked. “Long enough to meet our hostess. She'll be back in a moment. Akutagawa was apparently in the middle of a fight when we were summoned- she's getting him medical attention.”
Atsushi wandered to a window and looked out as the others bickered. “Hey guys?” he said, staring at the building across the street, “I don't think we're in Yokohama anymore.”
“You aren't.” The door to the room opened and a woman strode through. She was wearing what looked like a stage magician's outfit, complete with fishnets and tophat. It was... an interesting choice. “My name is Zatanna. My apologies for the rough journey. It isn't often I have to pull from other realities.”
“Zatanna?” Chuuya looked startled. “Like the comic book character?”
“Is that what we are to you? Fair enough,” Zatanna conceded. “To us, you're characters in a manga. I had hoped to pull a few more of you, but the spell took more out of me than I thought it would.”
“They do that,” Chuuya agreed cryptically. “The question is why.”
“Again, fair enough. You seem familiar with our world, so I'll keep it simple. Bats and Supes are off planet, Diana went home for a visit, and most of the others are trying to prep because Raven's father is being annoying.”
Dazai and Atsushi blinked at that information, then turned to Chuuya, who snorted. “I told you reading comics wasn't a waste of time, shitty Dazai. So what, we're here to mind the store?”
“Something like that, yes,” Zatanna said dryly. “Given your… work experience and powers, you seemed to be the most fitting candidates.”
The smirk she got in return was downright diabolical. “Fuck yes. I've been wanting to play in this town since I was ten. How long do we have?”
Zatanna quirked an eyebrow, then returned the smirk with a small one of her own. “Raven estimates Trigon's forces will be ready within two months, possibly three. Will this be a problem?”
“If anything it's too short. Status of the family?”
“Alfred and Barbara are aware of your arrival. Dick and Tim are meeting with the Titans, Jason has his mafia, and Damian is currently in residence. Alfred will have an up to date report, of course.”
“Of course. Akutagawa?”
“Is under the care of the JLA medics. He'll join you sometime in the next 24 hours.” The magician put a hand on her hip. “Ready?”
“Hell yeah.” Chuuya glanced at the other two. Atsushi looked confused but intrigued, while Dazai… well, it was nice to see the shoe on the other foot, for a change. “Let's do this.”
“Awesome. Etaerc latrop ot eht evactaB!”
A shimmering portal popped into existence directly in front of them. Chuuya grinned and darted through.
And stopped, as an older man in a suit and tie bowed to him. “Greetings, Master Chuuya. Welcome to the Batcave.”
“Holy fuck,” Chuuya breathed. He spun in a slow circle taking it all in. The Batwing hung suspended in a cradle, while the Batcycle sat off to one side, part of the armor missing. And the Batmobile… “Alfred, please tell me I get to drive it.”
“As long as it returns mostly intact, yes,” the older man said dryly. “Ah, Master Dazai, Master Atsushi, so good of you to join us.”
Atsushi blinked at the address. “H-hello?”
“My apologies. My name is Alfred Pennyworth. You may call me Alfred. I am Bruce Wayne's butler, among other things.”
“Bruce Wayne?” Dazai asked curiously.
“Aka the Batman, aka the Dark Knight, etc,” Chuuya explained. “Most superheroes use aliases. Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Flash… some of them, like the Flash and Green Lantern, have had multiple holders. The name is passed down with the powers. Or they're in alternate worlds. There are a few versions of the Batman in the comics, and like six Robins. Most of them in this timeline. Bats like to collect strays.”
Alfred raised an eyebrow. “You are well versed in our world. Good. As it so happens, tonight is quiet. Master Jason and Master Damian are here, if you'd like to meet them, and the rest of the family will be joining us for dinner tomorrow, barring emergencies.”
“Oh, we get to meet the fun ones first.” Chuuya gazed at his companions thoughtfully. “I think we need more appropriate clothing. And I'd like to take a tour of the city. Not a patrol, I just want to get a feel for the layout and what the night feels like.”
“Very good, sir. I'll send a selection to your rooms. If you'd follow me?”
Dazai whistled lowly as they exited the elevator. “Impressive digs. Bit ostentatious for a vigilante, isn't it?”
“For Batman, yes. For Bruce Wayne, head of Wayne Enterprises and the richest man in Gotham, this is actually restrained. It's also his ancestral home.” Chuuya gazed around with a gleam in his eyes. “You know, I learned English because of these comics. One of the Sheep found a stash of them somewhere. Some were in Japanese, some weren't, but I liked the ones I could read, so I spent a couple of months learning enough English to be able to translate the rest. Then I discovered I really liked learning languages, so I taught myself a half dozen others along the way.”
“You know, that explains so much of your personality,” Dazai quipped. “You spent your formative years reading about a rich guy who spent his nights beating people up. No wonder you fit the Port Mafia so well.”
“Super intelligent rich guy with no powers and a host of mental issues in a world full of superheroes,” Chuuya corrected. “Who spends his days masquerading as a playboy businessman and his nights fighting evil or solving crimes, and collects stray kids to train them as his sidekicks. If anyone here is Batman, Dazai, it’s you.”
The brunet stared at Chuuya for a moment, then turned away, lost in thought.
Alfred led them to the second floor and paused before a door. “Master Chuuya, this room and the next three are yours to use for the duration of your stay. Dinner is promptly at eight; until then, feel free to take the time to rest and freshen up. If you need anything, there is a call button on the nightstand next to your beds. Oh, and if you do go exploring, please stay out of the master bedroom. It’s not unheard of for Master Bruce to boobytrap his room when he’s gone for extended periods.”
“Thanks, Alfred,” Chuuya said with a slight bow. “I’ll take this one. You two pick rooms. Dazai, do not go wandering and get yourself kidnapped, got it? You don’t know the players or the way this city works.” Dazai just nodded, that considering look still in his eyes. Atsushi squeaked out a soft “okay” and bolted to the third door. That was fine. Chuuya opened the door to his chosen room, ducked inside, closed the door, and leaned against it with a sigh. He closed his eyes briefly, breathed for a second, then opened them with a grin. “Holy shit,” he whispered excitedly, dancing around the room in a display that would probably have Dazai teasing him for years if he saw it. “I’m in Gotham. ”
An hour after their arrival, someone knocked on Chuuya’s door. He rolled out of the insanely comfortable bed (no, seriously, it made even his own expensive mattress feel like cardboard, and he wondered if he could get something similar back home) and answered it. A teenager, roughly his own height, was there, holding an armload of clothes. “You’re Chuuya?” he asked. “Little short for Batman.”
Chuuya studied him for a moment. “You’re Damian, aren’t you? I might be on the shorter side, but I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. Those for me?”
“Alfred said you wanted ‘regular clothes’. I can see why. Like, seriously, what’s with that outfit?” Damian said.
“Flexibility.” And that was the core of it, wasn’t it? He’d never really explained the logic behind the outfit to anyone, even Dazai. “I’m a martial artist and a Mafia executive. This is enough of a suit for meetings and the material is both stretchy and sturdy enough to fight in, yet light enough I don’t overheat. I have pieces with thicker wool for winter.”
The kid looked intrigued. “Isn’t a bit… flashy, though?”
Chuuya snorted. “Kid, I’m a redhead with blue eyes in Japan. I grab attention just by existing. My outfit isn’t going to matter much.”
Damian studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Fair. We’ve got a couple hours until dinner and I’m bored. Wanna spar?”
“Fuck yes. I’ve been wanting to fight a Robin for ages.”
The kid laughed and handed Chuuya part of the stack of clothes. “Mafia, huh. I have got to introduce you to Jason. Let me drop the rest of this shit off and we can hit the gym.”
“Looking forward to it.”
Gotham was almost everything Chuuya expected it to be. He and Atsushi prowled the streets, dressed in beat up jeans and pullover hoodies, all hints of their normal left behind. Dazai had opted to stay behind and learn how to use the Batcomputer instead, which was just fine with Chuuya.
“Above you.” The words came in stilted Japanese. Chuuya looked up to see a figure in black and blue spandex. Nightwing.
Chuuya grinned and touched Atsushi’s shoulder, then activated his ability. In a few seconds they'd settled on the rooftop next to the hero. “Nightwing,” Chuuya explained to Atsushi, quietly enough that the sound didn't carry. “Aka Dick Grayson, the first Robin.”
“I see. Nakajima Atsushi. Nice to meet you, Nightwing-san.”
“You too. Alfred was right. You are well versed,” Dick said in English. “Sorry, languages are more Damian's thing.”
“Not a problem. Dazai and I speak decent English,” Chuuya shrugged. “The other two are learning. Patrolling?”
“Yeah. It's mostly quiet, which worries me.”
Chuuya laughed. “Yeah, quiet nights are the worst. Mind if we tag along?”
“Sure, long as you keep up and follow my lead. By the way, neat trick. Flight?”
“Gravity control. And Atsushi’s a weretiger. Keeping up won't be an issue.”
Dick let out a low whistle and pointed at a nearby skyscraper. “Damn. Okay. Let's see what you've got. Meet me at the top.”
Chuuya glanced at Atsushi, noting the competitive gleam in eyes which had already shifted to yellow, and grinned. “You're on.”
The weretiger was impressively fast. Almost before Chuuya finished talking, arms and legs had shifted to claws and the tiger was off, leaving only a streak of blue light. Chuuya laughed, blue eyes flashing with the challenge, and launched himself into the air with a flare of his aura. Dick blinked, then shook his head as he launched his Batclaw.
“Supers.”
Dazai looked up as someone knocked on his door. He put down the book he’d been reading, something about the history of Gotham, and opened it, only to find a paler-than-usual Akutagawa. “I see they released you from healthcare,” he said. “Come in and sit down.”
The mafioso nodded and stumbled to a chair. “I released myself,” he said. “Their medics are nearly as bad as the Port Mafia’s.”
“Oof,” Dazai winced. “Chuuya and Atsushi are out. The slug said he just wanted to get the lay of the land, but you know those two. They’re probably in the middle of a gunfight right now.”
Akutagawa scoffed, then pressed a hand to one side. “Ow. Please do not make me laugh. Broken rib.”
“Gotcha.”
Another knock sounded, this one on the open doorframe. “Sorry to barge in,” the young man said. He was tall, dark hair, with a shock of white in the front and a number of scars littering his face. “Alfred said we had new folks in, and some of you were, and I quote, ‘Of less than stellar moral value.’ Figured I had to see for myself who Z picked to fill in for the Bat.”
Dazai chuckled. “He’s not wrong. Akutagawa and Chuuya are Port Mafia, I used to be. Atsushi’s the only one of the group who’s anything close to innocent.”
“He’s less so than he pretends,” Akutagawa said. “Which I am glad for, because he was frankly insufferable when you first paired us together.”
“Atsushi said the same thing about you,” Dazai said with a grin.
The newcomer chuckled. “Sounds like me and Grayson,” he said. “Jason Todd. Formally Robin, now known in certain circles as the Red Hood. Bats is gonna have a fit when he comes back to find a bunch of criminals under his roof. Not that there wasn’t already. I wasn’t exactly a ‘model citizen’ even before Bats found me.”
Dazai raised an eyebrow. “Chuuya said something about Batman ‘taking in strays.’ I’m afraid I don’t really know much about this world. Comic books were always his thing.”
“Comic books, huh. Guess we would be to anyone else. Okay.” Jason moved into the room and perched on a small table. “I grew up with a criminal for a dad and a drug addict stepmom. He got arrested, I got left to take care of her, and I wasn’t exactly in a position to get a steady job, you know?”
“You turned to crime,” Akutagawa said, nodding his head.
“Yep. Brucie caught me tryin’ to steal the wheels off his ride. I thought I was done for. Instead, he bought me lunch and offered to take care of me. Course I said yes.”
Akutagawa and Dazai shared a look. “So you became a Robin?”
“Eventually, yeah. Grayson was the first one. He was a circus acrobat, if you can believe it. Some asshole killed his parents in the middle of a show. Bats was there, couldn’t save them, but he took Grayson in as his ward. Trained him to fight crime like he does. About a year after I showed up, he decided he wanted to do his own thing, started calling himself Nightwing, and I took his spot. Was a good gig while it lasted.”
Dazai tilted his head. “What happened?”
“The Joker, in Africa, with a crowbar,” Jason said. “Damien’s mom resurrected me. The rest is a really long story.”
“You died.” Dazai’s dark eyes glittered. “What was it like?”
Jason gave him a flat look. “Painful as all fuck. I fucking bled to death after being beaten by a goddamn psychopath, then woke up in a Lazerus pit. Which, by the way, also fucking sucks. 0/10, do not recommend. Although,” he added thoughtfully, studying Akutagawa, “it's almost too bad we don't have access to one. Rumor has it they can heal anything, including disease.”
Dazai studied the floor for an extended moment, lost in thought. Akutagawa merely raised an eyebrow, then his hand to cover a cough, and Jason shrugged. He fished a flash drive out of his pocket. “Anyway. The library’s on the second floor. Bruce keeps a couple of extra laptops there- mostly for Damian and Tim to study on, but there’s one or two for guests. One of my guys keeps a running list of the major players in Gotham and Metropolis. Thought you’d like to know who you might run into out there.”
“That would be appreciated, yes,” Akutagawa said dryly. Jason tossed the drive; a tendril of Rashoumon shot out, catching it midair, and Jason whistled.
“Neat trick. Do all of you have powers?”
“In a sense,” Dazai said. “Chuuya, Atsushi, and Akutagawa’s are the most combat oriented. Both of our organizations are built around ability users, although not everyone has them.”
Jason grinned. “Cool. So what’s yours?”
Dazai grinned back and held out a hand. Akutagawa’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he dutifully sent a dozen tendrils, all of which dissipated as Dazai’s aura flared blue.
“You’re a negator. Oh, that’s interesting.” Jason’s grin widened. “Temporary?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Huh. I wonder if it’d work on our supers. That could be all sorts of interesting,” Jason said thoughtfully. “We'll have to test that if one stops by.”
Just then, Jason's message tone sounded. He checked the screen and grimaced. “Gotta go. Looks like the Scarecrow is threatening the water supply again. Guy really needs to get a new schtick.”
“Scarecrow?” Dazai asked, but Jason merely turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall.
“Rude.”
“Indeed.” Akutagawa studied the flash drive, then rose. “I believe we have some studying to do, if we’re to be of any assistance.”
Dazai raised an eyebrow. “When did you finally learn that lesson?” he asked.
“The jinko,” Akutagawa said with an exasperated shrug. “I still have not managed to triumph in a battle with him. He has an infuriating ability to turn his weak spots into strength at inopportune moments.”
The detective laughed. “That he does. It's even more impressive than the tiger. Come on. Let's get to work.”