A Certain Crimefighting Boy Wonder: Book One

Masks

"There is no refuge from memory and remorse in this world.  The spirits of our foolish deeds haunt us, with or without repentance."  -Gilbert Parker.

"You know something, Wayne?" Mikoto asked nonchalantly as they walked down the street towards the Judgement headquarters.

Damian shifted his gaze to her. "What?" He snapped, still annoyed that she was determined to help him. He didn't need help, he was Damian al Ghul Wayne.

Mikoto tried her best to look undisturbed at his tone. It made sense he wouldn't be happy with her. He'd just been forced to tell her his life story, who wouldn't be uncomfortable? "I think I know someone who can help us."

"And who would that be?"

Mikoto looked away. "I'll explain on the way... let's just say that we need to bring food for her to help us."

Damian reached the conclusion almost instantly. "Index Librorum Prohibitorum." He stated.

Mikoto's eyes widened. "How did you know that?" She asked.

Damian rolled his eyes. "I'm smarter than the average thirteen year old, Misaka. In case you haven't been able to tell."

"Well, yeah, but still!"

"Index is a very smart girl." Damian explained. "She holds multiple forbidden books that hold secrets lost to our world. She also loves to eat. You saying that we need some food indicates that you believe she might be able to help us find him."

"Am I wrong?" Mikoto asked. "It's not a bad idea."

"Yes, I suppose it wouldn't be a completely idiotic idea if we were looking for something involving magic." Damian agreed. "Finding father through Index would take far too long. We need to get into Academy City's database."

"If Tree Diagram were still here," said Mikoto, "That would be wonderful in relation to this." Tree Diagram was Academy City's super computer that was destroyed by Mikoto in order to save her sisters.

Damian smiled. "I think I may be able to help with that..."

Back in Gotham City, a girl in a wheelchair with firey red hair was sitting in front of the Bat Computer with a lollipop in her mouth.

"Oracle." Damian's voice boomed from the speakers of the computer. "Come in, Oracle."

Barbara Gordon, otherwise known as Oracle, instantly replied. "Damian!" She greeted. "How's Japan treating you?"

"It's been a bit of a... shocking experience." Damian said. "However right now I need your help. I need you to get Academy City's Tree Diagram up and running again."

"That's the one Railgun destroyed, isn't it?" asked Barbara as her fingers typed at almost superhuman speed.

"That's correct." Damian confirmed. "Which means it will be electrically fried, but I'm assuming you can still get it up and running?"

"Oh Damian," Barbara chuckled. "You're talking to the computer experts of all computer experts. I'll get back to you when I get this done." With that, she ended the conversation and set to work.

"Okay, I have somebody working on it." Damian said, turning to Mikoto.

"How long will that take?" Mikoto asked. "Because if we have time, we might as well head over to Index."

"You just want to see Kamijou."

Mikoto's face turned red. "I DO NOT!!" She yelled, stomping on the ground and shocking Damian.

Damian sighed, standing up as he was covered in even more electrical burns. "Wow, you really do have a temper. You'd be great friends with Todd."

"What?"

"Nevermind."

By this time, they had reached the Judgement building. Right as they walked in, an angry Kuroko teleported in front of them.

"And just WHERE have YOU TWO been!?!?" She exploded. "Wayne, I was supposed to be training you and you decided to GET IT ON WITH MY SISSY!?!? WHILE THERE WAS MASS PANIC ATTACKS HAPPENING IN SEVENTH MIST!?!" She was furious. "Judgment has it all cleaned up now, but no thanks to you two!! Sissy, you should know better than to distract this.. this hooligan from his job!!"

Damian frowned. "Wait... you got it cleaned up? Those people are cured?"

Kuroko sighed impatiently. "I just said that, you moron! We got there and they were waking up, perfectly fine!"

Damian looked, and was, positively bewildered. Scarecrow's toxin was incurable unless you had an antidote. Either he was the only one who got a dose, or somebody had arrived in his and Mikoto's absence.

Mikoto rolled her eyes. "Look, I feel bad that I distracted Wayne from his job, but how were we supposed to know that was happening?"

"Oh, I don't know." Kuroko replied sarcastically. "Maybe because I heard you say you were going there?"

"We left before it happened." Damian spoke up. "Obviously. Do we look like the victims of a panic attack?" As both Damian and Mikoto were used to moments of pure terror, for the moment, they were both calm.

Kuroko narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Well... no... but I think you both should get checked out. And Wayne, Mii said that you wouldn't get fired because it's your 'first day'" she made air quotations. "But if I see you wander off with Sissy ever again, you're out of here for good."

Damian sighed. "Okay, Shirai. If you say so."

That night, as Damian waited beside his phone while his roommate snores loudly, his thoughts wandered.

Everybody in his delusion was correct. Damian may try to be a hero, but everything he's done, everybody he's hurt... nothing he could ever do could make up for that.

He had tried. Oh, had he tried. Damian had saved approximately 845 lives. He was counting, trying to make it more than the lives he had taken, which he couldn't remember how many that was. Multitudes. More than 845.

No, Damian would never be a hero. He was a murderer. He would always be a murderer. He would never admit that to anybody. He told people he had changed. But the truth? He had murderous impulses every time he went out to fight. He imagined slicing the rapists' throats, gutting the pedophiles, dismembering the murderers. He didn't, to prove to himself that he had changed.

Damian had overheard Bruce telling Alfred how proud he was that Damian had changed. But Bruce was wrong. He was very wrong. If Damian ever reached the point where he lost the ability to think 100% logically, a mass slaughter would take place. It took every ounce of self control to not slit a throat, to not gut a person, to not dismember.

No hero would ever want to do that.