One-Shots [Boboiboy]

Not Yet

Time passes, and so do our pasts. Our memories, our names, the colour of our eyes, our emotions will eventually lay forgotten in the depths of our caskets, six feet deep under soil and earth.

Some people lived an extraordinary life; some lived in ultimate darkness. It doesn't matter, because we'll join in the same fate our predecessors have experienced. No one is immortal, no one will live forever.

Fang tends to challenge this fact.

The ending of his friend's story closed with dissatisfaction.

* * *

Even as he watched the mohagony coffin being lowered into the ground—even if he was one of those who sprinkled the handful of dirt onto the casket—even if he was next to him when his own weapon was run through his heart—he refused to believe Boboiboy was truly dead.

No. The boy who had saved him and million others couldn't have just abandoned them in the world of the living. Humans were always fragile, but Boboiboy seemed godlike. Even if they didn't have regenerative factors like aliens did, Boboiboy and his friends always kept their head high and faced upcoming villains one by one, each more threatening than the last.

Perhaps their heads were kept too high and someone slapped reality in their faces. It didn't matter how powerful they were—there was always someone better than them, someone they couldn't defeat no matter how hard they try.

Someone that would end their lives once and for all.

* * *

"Fang! I'm alright. Go help the others."

No.

"You sure? You can't take them all alone."

He can't.

"Trust me! We've faced... harsher situations than this, right?"

No. They didn't.

"If you say so. Stay safe!"

Don't let him go.

"Good luck! I'll be okay!"

Lies.

* * *

In TAPOPS's regulations, there would be a grieving ceremony for the dead, soldiers and fighters who had lost their lives in combat. However, this lasted for only a day, then everyone returned to their daily responsibilities.

It's only a day.

How can they forget about him just like that?

"Fang." Admiral Tarung accosted him in the hallways. He handed him a techpad. "You have a mission."

Fang frowned. "But, admiral, given the circumstances—"

Tarung's face darkened. "This is no time to be wallowing in self-pity. With Boboiboy gone, the hunters will certainly take the chance."

Fang fell silent. He should have known. To Tarung, Boboiboy was just another warrior in thousands.

"Leave the boy alone, Admiral," Kaizo gruffed, shoving the pad back to the alien. "Will all due respect, in his condition, he'll most certainly fail the mission."

Admiral Tarung glanced at the Rebel Captain before sighing. "Alright. You have my permit to rest for a week."

Fang nodded. "Thank you, Admiral."

After the admiral was gone, Fang faced his older sibling. Like the admiral, Kaizo was too holding a mission holopad. His heart sank.

"Here's a simple mission for you." Kaizo gave him the mission tablet. "It's so simple you won't screw it up. You won't want to screw it up."

Kaizo left.

Fang looked down to his boots. After some time, he mustered the courage to read the details of his task.

His eyes widened.

* * *

As the ship landed on Earth's land, the first thing Fang noticed was the cool breeze and the twilight among the sunset. He daren't dwell on such sceneries for long. He still had his mission to complete.

It was no longer a TAPOPS mission. It was his duty, the morality, his honour as a friend.

Tok Aba's Kokotiam could be seen in a distance.

Hanging by the stand were his group of friends, a power sphere and Tok Aba himself. Inhaling until his lungs ached, he dragged his legs up towards them.

His footing was silent, his every movement stiff.

"Don't worry, Tok Aba. I'll come back for some cocoa tomorrow."

A promise that was never fulfilled.

It never was, and it never will be.

Not anymore.

His presence was alerted when Tok Aba noticed him.

"Hey, Fang! Long time no see," Tok Aba greeted him. "Would you like a cup of cocoa?"

Fang shook his head. "No. Actually, I'm here on a mission."

Ying turned to him. "Eh? A mission? Do you need our help?"

"No." Fang gathered every ounce of his dignity and energy. He opened the bag he brought and placed two boxes on the table. One long and rectangular, the other a mere cubicle square; both were painted black with the TAPOPS signal plastered on the lid. "I'm here to apologize."

Tok Aba frowned. "What do you mean? What are these?"

Fang looked down. As the trio of superpowered teenagers inched closer to the packages, Tok Aba slowly opened the bigger one of the two. He placed the lid on his counter.

A shattered sword created of scarlet. The blotches of dried blood were barely illegible, as it blended in with the original palette.

Yaya suppressed a gasp. "Is this...?"

Moving onto the second box, Tok Aba's expression was no longer serene. With shaking hands, he placed the lid next to the previous one. Tears seeped out of his aged eyes, dripping past decades' worth of wrinkles embedded through time.

"No," Ochobot muttered in disbelief.

He held a blood-stained cap in his hands. The original colour was obscured by the dried blood, but the blood didn't stick onto the golden pin. It was the only thing that remained stainless, but not unscathed. There were cracks—minor, but visible—around the edges.

Tok Aba sunk to a chair. He daren't utter a sound, as if this nightmare would remain if he so much as drew a breath.

Fang bit the insides of his cheeks. "I should have done something."

"No, Fang," Yaya croaked. "You've done all you can."

Fang turned. He had to report the mission's completion back to HQ.

Before he left, he forced out two words, almost inaudible.

"Not yet."