Wild Tiger Chase - Chapter 24: Chapter 24

— Rob —
He was so tired.
Rob closed his eyes and went through his memories again. Everything was fine. Everything was great with Leo in his arms, warm and affectionate and gripping his hair and moaning with that expression that made his heart break and fix itself three times over. But the more they talked; the more Rafa, then Phillip, then Léon himself proved things were not the same anymore—that they would never be the same anymore—the more the seed of anguish swell.
And it was a seed all right, its vines wrapping his heart, its thorns piercing his mind, its roots stealing the water from Rob's few ponds of self-control. His ever-shrinking self-control.
That anguish was a bloody weed, and Rob didn't have enough strength to unroot it.
"Roberto Tapir," he mumbled. "Grizzly Bear. 28. Born in a storm where the river meets the sea, on July 29th. You're not The Mayor's lapdog anymore. And..." He took in a deep breath. "You're not Grizzly Bear anymore. You think for yourself. You're a good person." The words Phillip had said pierced his heart once again; his voice wavered. "And you were not responsible for what happened to Léon."
"Weren't you?" said the voice at his back.
Rob turned around to meet Anhangá's eyes; his expression darkened. "Here to spite me like the others, are you?"
A shadow crossed Anhangá's features. "No one was spiting you, bitter boy."
The weight of Anhangá's gaze was too much, so Rob averted his eyes. His hand rested above the place where Phillip had hit him. "You don't know that."
Anhangá chuckled. The sound was so derisive and mean, Rob wished to punch the joy out of his face. Several times.
The thought troubled him. Why was his brain jumping to violence so quickly?
"Shite." Rob forced in a lungful of crisp air and hid his face with a hand. "Leave me alone, An. I need to calm down."
"An?" Anhangá stepped forward and placed a hand on Rob's wrist. That warm touch alone convinced Rob to look at him. Anhangá gave him a small curl of lips. "Are we this close already, my bitter boy?" His expression changed—a merchant appraising an exotic piece of meat. "Well. I suppose we are. Two-and-twenty years inside of you and three at your side is surely enough to be deserving of a nickname, isn't it? I approve."
A smile won over Rob's lips. "You're a git."
His hands fell limp on his thighs, and he leaned back, lifting his gaze to the brightening sky. Everything changed, but at least Anhangá was still the same. Infuriating and cheeky, yes, but still the same. And things must really have changed if Anhangá could now make him smile while Léon only made him feel like shite.
"I'll see that as affectionate swearing if you don't mind."
Rob shook his head. "Whatever bakes your potato, An."
The sound of the wind rustling tree leaves filled the short silence between them. Anhangá looked around, admiring the luscious green of the forest, then closed his eyes as if listening to the awakening birds. Anhangá was the protector of Old Continent's forests, and Rob couldn't imagine what it was like for him to be in a preserved stretch of land like this. Would he be happy for being here? Or would he be sad with how shitty things were in Old Continent?
"So?" Anhangá finally said, opening his eyes.
Rob waited.
Anhangá's smile widened. "Won't you share your thoughts with me? I used to have access to them, but now I can only guess."
"What do I need to tell you?" Rob hugged his knees, pulling them closer. "You saw what happened back there." He sighed and forced himself to look less pathetic, stretching one leg and propping an elbow on his knee. "That's nothing out of ordinary, of course. We all have different views on how to protect Léon and the others and... it's just that. Sure, they should be listening to me, since I have at least twice their fighting experience and training, but who am I to judge them? We're all scared. Their refusal to listen to me means nothing."
Anhangá stared at him, piercing eyes searching his face. "Very... diplomatic of you to say that." He raised a single eyebrow and crossed his lean arms, his eyes dipping low to meet the damp soil in the forest.
Rob could almost see the gears turning inside Anhangá's head. He was trying to understand him, and that drew a smile across Rob's lips.
"Listen, An, you don't need to do this. To check on me. I swear I'm all right." He tried on a smile that felt out of place on his lips. "All I want is to find a way to protect them without my powers. I just need some time to think things through and—"
"Would you like those powers back? The tattoos."
Rob blinked a couple of times. "Uh. Of course. They're my powers after all. I thought that was quite obvious. And I promised I'd restore Léon's too, so there's that." A crease formed between his eyebrows.
"Do you think Léon wants his powers back?"
He didn't need to think twice. "For sure he does. But... he seems preoccupied with other things right now."
Another spell of silence fell over them. This time, though, it was charged with a weird kind of electricity Rob couldn't understand.
Finally, Anhangá broke it. "Is it really that hard for you, Roberto?"
Rob paused, and not only because Anhangá had called him by his name. There was something in his voice that made Rob think Anhangá was... worried. Rob blinked a few times, watching the small changes in Anhangá's expression as if they could explain his words.
"Is it?" Anhangá insisted, uncrossing his arms. He sat down at Rob's side and placed a hand on his knee. Anhangá was so much smaller in this human form that his head barely crossed the line of Rob's shoulders.
"What exactly? Don't fancy me as a mind-reader—I'm not."
Ahangá chuckled. He raised a hand and caressed Rob's hair. "I suppose neither of us is used to not having the other as close as before, even after three years of this." He waggled his index finger between him and Rob, then cleared his throat. "Allow me to try again because... I don't think this is really about powers." His voice hardened. "Is it that difficult for you not to have a family or friends to go back to? Is that why you want to keep them all here? And is that why you find Phillip's presence so offensive?"
Something cold swirled in his stomach. Rob's eyes widened. "No, that's... that's not what this is about."
"No?"
"No. I told you already. We all have our own opinions on—"
"Oh, don't give me that crap, Roberto. You know you can't fool me even for a second. Isn't Rafa and Léon the only two people you really trust?" Anhangá leaned forward. "Doesn't it hurt you badly when they reject your ideas? Doesn't it feel like they don't trust you back? Isn't it noxious?"
"W-What? You...!" Rob scoffed, his half-smile drenched with disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about, mate? I would never be so petty."
The wind blew harder against the trees around them, making a wave of fallen leaves wash over their feet.
Anhangá narrowed his eyes. "I've known you for a long time, Roberto. You could say we've grown together, considering what your power trace did to me—and only I know how lonely you've been all this time. You pretend you're some sort of iron-molded sentinel when in truth you're nothing more than a scared little boy who lost everyone."
Rob opened his lips to deny those words... but didn't. He closed his mouth in silence and averted his gaze. "That doesn't mean anything... that's not true!"
A gentle hand brushed the hair on the back of Rob's neck, threatening to make him shiver. Anhangá's cold fingers rested there, his thumb going up and down like Léon used to do. Still, Anhangá's words clashed with that display of affection.
"No? Phillip has a family; he was never alone. You heard him talking about his mother, didn't you? And Léon, too, with all the drama about Kali. And Rafa, your sister, who refuses to listen to you." Anhangá scoffed and leaned even closer. "Children, all of them. What wouldn't you do to have your family back?"
Rob's muscles tensed. "You don't know what you're talking about. Stop."
"Remind me, bitter boy. You don't have a mother, do you? Your mother is dead. Forever, like your father. And your unborn little sister. And your grandmother, the best warrior of your tribe. And like you would be, had your sister not taken care of you. The same sister you now mistreat, blame, and shush."
The shiver came with a wave of shame, spreading across Rob's back and making the hairs on his arms bristle. A weird, distant buzz filled his ears as the sky darkened above them.
"After that, you learned you couldn't trust Brash. Or Toni. Or Celena—although her case was a tad more complicated than the others. Now Rafa and Léon are your only family and all you can think is—what if Phillip manages to steal them?" Anhangá's eyes darkened. His lips curled and pulled at the sides in a hungry, shark-like smile. "You can see how they're starting to gravitate towards him, can't you?"
Rob growled. "Stop saying rubbish."
"As if Phillip's the sun and you're the moon. You're just... not enough. It's what you were thinking back there. I could see it in your eyes, bitter boy. I bet Phillip can see it too."
Something cracked, and the sound ran, long and menacing, like roots spreading under Rob's feet.
"Shut up, Anhangá."
"And your anger is new, too. You're not used to it. Being a good person forced you to suppress it. Being a good person always forced you to do many things you didn't want to."
Rob got up; there was an edge to his voice when he said, "I'm warning you!"
The wind intensified.
"But now you don't want to be good anymore. Now you want your sister and our Tiger at your side, and you want them just for you, close enough so you can protect them—by any means necessary. Isn't that correct?"
"I said shut up!" Rob roared. His voice echoed among the trees and bushes, loud and violent like the gale whisking his short hair. Something sparked in his chest and he flexed the muscles in his arms and legs.
For the first time in four years, Rob's tattoos flicked... but they were not green.
They were red.
Rob's hands gripped Anhangá's neck and pushed him backward until his lean body bashed one of the trees.
Anhangá let out a gurgled chuckle. "My, my, bitter boy. As much as I... ugh... always imagined you choking me, this is not quite... what I had in mind."
"Shut your mouth! You think you know me, do you?" Rob roared and tightened his grip.
Anhangá's voice was labored, but his expression—his face darkening at each passing second—was still as amused as ever.
Until it wasn't. As the red in Rob's tattoos intensified, Anhangá's expression morphed first to pain, then to something that looked like... fear.
"I know I do," Anhangá said. "And I know this is not you, bitter boy. See for yourself!"
Rob's fingers trembled. The whites in Anhangá's eyes became black, and in the dark pits of his gaze, Rob saw his own reflex, the tattoos casting red light on his distorted features.
He looked exactly like The Mayor.
He gasped and stumbled a step backward. Without Rob's hands to keep him up, Anhangá's knees buckled and he sunk to the floor.
For a moment, Rob stood very still. His cheeks burned, his blood boiled, and his mind screamed about shame and guilt. In front of him, Anhangá was motionless and silent, his chest heaving.
Rob's voice wavered when he said, "Anhangá? I... a-are you okay?" He knelt in front of him. "I don't know what came over me. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have treated you like that, I—" He lifted a hand to brush aside the hair covering his face.
The slap Anhangá gave on Rob's hand echoed around them, sharp and cold.
"Don't touch me like that." Anhangá lifted his face, his furious eyes framed by thick locks of dark hair. "This, Roberto, is not your power." He pointed at the hand he had just slapped. The tattoos there were still lit up, blood-red and dangerous.
Rob lowered his hand. Something in his chest tightened; his eyes stung. As he calmed down—gulping and sniffing to keep from tearing up—the red dimmed and died.
He fell down and hid his face with his hands. When he was ready to, he took in a deep breath and looked at Anhangá again. "I don't understand. I thought I had lost these powers. I thought Toni had stolen them from me." He searched Anhangá's expression. "How is this possible?"
With a gesture, Anhangá showed their surroundings. The grass had dried, the trees were nothing but gnarled pieces of deadwood, and the silence seemed to show there were no more animals around them. Rob touched the tree trunk at his side, and the skin bunched around his eyes.
"What the fuck," he said in a pained voice.
The bark sunk like clay, exactly like the trees outside of Caidara's pocket dimension. Whatever Rob had done, he had caused the trees here to get sick too.
"You never understood how these tattoos worked, bitter boy, and I never thought things would get this bad." Anhangá massaged his neck. "Your people should've taught you to use these markings, but they didn't have time. Your former master, Brash, didn't care about control. He was always a power-hungry piece of human waste, and he etched tattoo after tattoo on your skin, not even letting you heal between them. You have a disgusting number of neglected wounds."
Anhangá sighed. "No matter." He patted Rob's hand. "We'll start working on all that. With some luck, I'll teach you about your real powers, and we'll fix you before we both die for good. Now c'mon." He got up. "I have a feeling our Tiger is about to do something utterly stupid."