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Supaiku-san=Spike
Main Points:Buffy the Vampire Slayer/The Case Files of Young Kindaichi
Summary: The rescue goes wrong.
Word Count: 825
Rating: Teen
“I am so sorry,” Wilo-chan whispers, hovering with a worried expression even as Kindaichi puts everything he has into climbing the warehouse racks, trying desperately to quiet his gasping breaths.
“Not—your fault,” he manages, hardly sparing a resigned thought as moving his foot up to reach his next foothold dislodges the flashlight from his pocket and it goes tumbling to the floor below. The sound of glass breaking suggests it didn’t emerge unscathed either, but as bad as that is at least the sound isn’t coming from the windows.
So much for being prepared, but, well—of course he was naïve. He’s under no illusions that several of his previous escapes were mere luck. All he can do now is attempt to use his wits and experience. For example, his destination on top of the shelves is hardly secure—if their pursuers spot him, they could easily topple the shelves over. And the flashlight, unfortunately, serves as an indication of his current location. A skylight sits dimly above and to the right, but he can’t even see if there’s a latch, much less what approach he’d use to get through. Given his weakened state and the way his back is aching, he is now nearly completely certain that Wilo-chan’s deduction was correct, but that hardly does them any good right now. He doesn’t manage to get a secure grip on a shelf above his head and falls partly, Wilo-chan’s yelp of alarm echoing in the large area.
Attempting to lock the door and then spending as long as he dared pushing bulky materials in front was a good idea. It bought him some time. Time he needed, given the fact that he can hardly fight against the small army Supaiku-san brought. He’s not a fighter in the first place, and suspects, given the size, that some might be like him, forced into bodies not their own. That does indicate that they’re probably around the same height, given that nothing about the location of his line of sight had appeared odd before or after the thought had occurred to him, which is interesting. Television had always given the impression that everyone overseas was so much taller, but perhaps that mainly applied to actors and actresses. Of course, it also might have to do with the fact that while the specifics of how senpai and kohai interacted might differ, enough similarities existed to determine that Zandaru was a teen like him and therefore not finished growing yet.
In any case, he thinks, wrestling his mind back on track even as he grits his teeth and attempts to push himself upward once more, thankfully this time managing not to slip, he would rather avoid attacking and hurting innocent children if possible.
They hadn’t managed to get across town to the source of the crime before Wilo-chan had spotted and warned him about another vampire, this Supaiku-san, only he was hardly as friendly as the first Kindaichi had met. Unfortunately, said vampire had noticed them, too, and had given chase along with, presumably, fellow vampires (the human-looking ones) and monsters (which did not appear as human). The man had an accent and was making no effort to speak slowly, but really, the tone of malicious glee needed no translation. He didn’t need to know the words to know nothing good would come of being caught.
Even determined pedaling saw them slowly being overtaken, so he headed for the first warehouse he spotted, Wilo-chan babbling in his ear nervously as she hovered along. He could have tried for a house, of course; he’d considered the option and promptly discarded it. Even if the stories about vampires being unable to enter residences without an invitation was true, it almost certainly would do nothing to impede the non-vampires among them, and the risk of potentially endangering an innocent family rather than finding an empty home was too great.
From the tone and the look barely visible in the light of the moon on the ghost’s face, Wilo-chan has moved on to try to encourage him, even as his arms scream and he feels exhausted. He smiles and tries not to show the panic as one of his feet slips again, sneakered foot scrabbling at thin air before he manages to find another proper foothold. She keeps it up all the way to the last push, in which he’s half-convinced he’s going to fall but at last second manages to haul himself up and collapse, gasping, at the top of the shelf.
“Wait here; I’ll go get help!” she announces brightly, determined, and disappears through the wall. “Well? Did you want to find Buffy or not?” she taunts, clearly attempting to draw away at least some of his pursuers. A risky move that might fail, but it matches her feisty, protective spirit. He barely manages a smile as he attempts to steady his breathing while simultaneously not passing out. It’s surprisingly difficult.