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The sun was sinking below the smog-filled horizon of Nanamagari’s industrial district. Shadowmaru paced the length of the alley, ears pricked skyward as she listened for the Gunbike’s noisy approach. Gunmax was late, very late, and she found herself growing increasingly impatient with each passing minute.
With a tilted helm and a cocked hip, Gunmax had suggested they meet up after work the day prior for a “smoke.” Shadowmaru knew all too well what he was really asking, but at the time, she found him hard to refuse. Gunmax was gregarious, if a bit too bold at times, and Shadowmaru found herself drawn to his company even if it meant trouble would follow the both of them. For better or for worse, Gunmax treated her the exact same way he treated everyone else, which usually meant that she was subjected to the same hot and cold, flip-of-a-coin temperament that made Gunmax who he was.
Despite all of his flaws, Shadowmaru was addicted to Gunmax’s presence. The other Braves were respectful with her – too respectful, in fact – and it made her feel unequal even if she knew that was not their intention. Maybe Shadowmaru wanted someone to be a little rude and raunchy with, even if it meant their flaws shone in glorious technicolor.
Which is why, perhaps in spite of her better judgment, Shadowmaru had accepted Gunmax’s offer in earnest. That had quickly proven to be a mistake, and now she was left listless and alone, waiting in a dirty alley for a mech whose affections were as flippant as the rest of him.
She had been expecting disappointment — it was Gunmax, after all — but the sting of rejection still pierced her armored hide anyway.
By now, Shadowmaru had worked herself up into a tizzy. She was just about to call it quits when, finally, the telltale screech of tires filled the periphery and she pinned her ears back in discomfort. The rest of Gunmax was quick to follow and, when he turned the corner and dismounted his Gunbike, she snarled.
Gunmax yelped, his antenna rigid, then relaxed at the sight of her. His look of fear was quickly replaced with one of amusement.
“Awh, what’s the matter, puppy dog? Did I scare ya?”
“Hardly,” Shadowmaru huffed. She bit back the urge to use his own words against him. She had little patience for Gunmax’s posturing that would surely follow suit. “Where the hell were you? You were supposed to be here an hour ago. I thought you stood me up.”
“Oh, right.” Gunmax shifted one pede, propping it up on his Gunbike while he reached into its compartment to pull out a cigarette. He’d been stealing them from Chief Toudou, and when he was finally caught, he resorted to rolling his own using old paper and congealed tar he had scraped from the bottom of their oil reserves. They fit his hands better now.
Shadowmaru watched with a twitching optic as Gunmax, without a care in the world, slowly popped one of his cigarettes into his mouth. He lit the paper with a match and took a long, deep drag. Finally, he said: “My bad. Got caught in traffic. You know how it is.”
The excuse was so absurd that Shadowmaru fought the urge to laugh.
“That’s the worst lie you’ve ever told. Traffic laws mean nothing to the Great Gunmax. I suppose you gave out a few speeding tickets, too? Like a good little highway patrolman?”
“Oi!” Gunmax sneered down at her, cigarette still tightly pressed between his teeth. “I didn’t come here to get lectured, puppy dog. Why don’t you get on two legs and fetch a cig, eh? It’ll take the edge off.” He smirked and tilted his neck to the side. “I’ve got a bit more for ya right here, too, if you’re down.”
Shadowmaru shut her optics and cursed the pang of longing that made its way from her processor, down her spine. She made herself focus on the rank scent of tar and gun polish that followed Gunmax wherever he went.
“You are so…” Shadowmaru trailed off, optics locking on a strange deformity on Gunmax’s neck, barely perceptible to anyone but her. She sniffed, her entire body locking up while her SAI surged with anger. Her hackles raised and her nose wrinkled. “You were with him.”
“What?” Gunmax’s cigarette drooped in his mouth. “What’re you on abou–”
Shadowmaru leapt with the full weight of her alt-mode before she could stop herself, front paws crushing Gunmax’s chassis as they both tumbled to the ground. He yelped, struggling to break free from her grip, while she bent down, nosing at his neck. She confirmed her suspicions with a growl. Deckerd’s scent still lingered on his mesh.
Quick as a flash, she transformed into robot mode, wings flaring in anger. She grinded one knee into his chassis while she planted the other firmly between his thighs. She pinned his hands with her own, resisting the urge to pierce his wrists with her claws.
Instead, she leaned forward, fangs grazing his neck before she moved up to his audial. A strange mixture of excitement and fury poisoned her fuel lines.
“What’s gotten into you?!” Miraculously, Gunmax had managed to keep his “cig” pinched between his teeth. “Asshole!”
“Don’t even think about trying to lie to me again,” Shadowmaru spat. “Does he know? Does he know what we’re up to? Speak.”
She loosened her grip on his chest. She watched his throat bob between delicate cabling while he searched for an answer. Behind his visor, Shadowmaru caught an orange flash of fear.
“...Yes. I told him.” Gunmax said flatly. “He doesn’t care. I swear to God.”
Shadowmaru snarled. “Well, what about me, hm? Did you even consider what I would think? Or were you just thinking with your cocked trigger, like always?”
“H-Hey, I…!” Gunmax sighed, moving the cigarette to the other side of his mouth. He flashed Shadowmaru a strange look of genuine pity. It set her on edge. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay? But you know it’s different. What you and me have is…different.”
Something in Shadowmaru crumpled, her wings falling to the side. She didn’t know why she was so upset; she knew just as well as Gunmax that it was the truth. Why else did she feel that constant, burning ache in her processor every time they parted? What she and Gunmax had would never be the same as what Gunmax and Deckerd shared, but that didn’t stop her from dreaming anyway. Gunmax’s actions were just as telling as any verbal rejection.
But really, it was neither Gunmax’s nor Deckerd’s fault; she was her own worst enemy for expecting anything more, Shadowmaru thought.
She brought one hand to graze the abrasion on his neck. He didn’t resist, his own excitement and guilt plain by the flushed tint of his faceplates. The bite was fresh but shallow. Gunmax could’ve easily buffed it out if he really wanted to, yet he left it anyway, certainly his own decision. Deckerd would never ask that of him. He was a gentle lover. At least, that’s what Gunmax told Shadowmaru.
A very small, dark part of Shadowmaru wanted to replace Deckerd’s mark with her own. She wanted to rip into Gunmax’s supple neck, to pierce his throat so deeply that it left a scar on his mesh, just to erase the gentle bite of a lover with her own mark forever.
She pulled her hand away, disgusted with herself.
Instead, she balled one hand into a fist, flexing her claws, while the other hand moved to caress his chin. She plucked the cigarette from his lips and leaned in close, fangs brushing against his parted mouth.
“How terribly disappointing. I’m sorry you feel that way.”
She kissed him.
The moon was full tonight. It shone proudly despite the thick curtains of smog that blanketed the industrial district. Even a few stars glittered in the inky black sky. The sight made Shadowmaru smile.
The night always made Shadowmaru more comfortable. Perhaps it was some bone-deep, instinctual desire brought on by her ninja coding. Perhaps it was simply a preference she developed independently of her SAI. The Braves were known for their idiosyncrasies after all. Whatever the case, it eased her troubles and cleared her head.
Isolation also helped. And luckily for Shadowmaru, she got to share this moment alone. Gunmax was not one to linger after a rendezvous, but then again, neither was Shadowmaru herself. It was one of the few things they had in common. Of course, he’d been sufficiently thankful (and apologetic), and had left her a little “gift,” if one could call it that.
“For the road,” he had said, in the middle of a languid stretch. She caught a wink behind the visor. “You might change your mind. Just come callin’ and I’ll have more for ya.”
Shadowmaru stared down at the cigarette curled in her palm. Her decision had been made as soon as Gunmax departed and the night embraced her with open arms.
“No, thank you,” Shadowmaru murmured, to no one but the moon. “I’m done.”
She threw the cigarette to the ground and stamped it under her heel.
With a sigh of relief, she transformed back into her wolf-mode. She turned her muzzle skyward and drank in the night’s clean scent.