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DC X Rider Ch 144
🕑 Added 2025-04-16 15:27:02 +0000 UTCHaruka cancelled the Abyss transformation in a grimy alley. The city's hum faded as he expelled a breath of relief. Press conferences? Definitely not his thing.
Kara was acting weird back there, he thought, remembering her vice grip on his arm. He shook it off. That was just Kara. Always expressive, always… Kara. Probably just her way of showing they were friends, a team. Nothing more.
His thoughts drifted to Megan. He'd practically ordered her to leave, like some overprotective older brother. Idiot, he chided himself. He should've made sure she got home safe.
I need you to go home. Now.
He winced at the memory.
But what about you?
Her question echoed. Genuine concern. He hadn’t deserved it.
I still have something to do, he had said firmly. Please, go home and stay safe.
He had to find her. He glanced around the alley, then started walking, his pace quickening with each step. National City at night wasn't exactly a playground, especially not for someone who barely knew the place. He needed to apologize, make sure she was okay.
He spotted her a few blocks away, standing beneath a flickering streetlight. Relief washed over him, so potent it almost knocked him off his feet. "Megan!"
She turned, her expression unreadable. "Haruka?"
He rushed toward her, stopping just a few feet away. "Are you okay? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just left you."
Megan shrugged, her eyes downcast. "I'm fine, Haruka. Really. It was… a lot. But I'm okay."
He studied her face, searching for any sign of distress. She seemed genuine enough, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he’d screwed up. "Look, I just wanted to make sure you were safe," he said, his voice softening. "Maybe… maybe we should just head back now, get some rest."
Megan looked up, a small smile gracing her lips. "Yeah," she said softly. "That sounds good."
"Wait, what about Kara?" Megan asked, her brow furrowed.
He almost winced. Right, Kara. It wouldn't do to just brush her off. Even if he knew Supergirl could handle herself, Megan didn't. And he owed them both an explanation.
He pulled out his phone, pretending to check for a signal. "Yeah, good point. Let me just… give her a call, make sure she's okay."
Kara arrived back home and flopped onto her bed, burying her face in a pillow. A groan escaped, muffled by the fabric. "Ugh, why?" she muttered to herself.
She replayed the scene in her head, a highlight reel of pure mortification. The reporters, the flashing cameras, Kamen Rider’s stoic stance, and then her. Clinging to his arm like… well, like a jealous girlfriend. The memory stung. A blush crept up her neck, hot and prickly.
Why did I do that?
It wasn’t a rhetorical question, either. She genuinely didn't understand. Was it because of Miss Martian? The way Kamen Rider seemed so… comfortable around her? A pang of something suspiciously like jealousy shot through Kara's chest. No, no, it couldn't be that. She and Kamen Rider were just friends. Really good friends, sure. But just friends.
Right?
She kicked her legs, sending her red boots clattering to the floor. Friends didn't cling. Friends didn't stake their claim in front of a news crew. Friends didn't… what did friends do, exactly?
She pictured Clark, her cousin, with Lois. They were partners, equals. Lois was strong, independent, and definitely didn't cling to Superman's arm unless it was to, like, be rescued from a falling building. Which, okay, was fair enough.
But this? This was just… embarrassing. She imagined Kamen Rider's reaction. He probably thought she was a total weirdo. He was probably used to being admired from afar, not accosted by a blonde blur with questionable social skills.
Maybe he hadn't even noticed. Kamen Rider always seemed so focused, so serious. He was probably too busy answering those reporters to register her awkward attempt at… what? Affection? Dominance? She shuddered.
"Okay, new plan," she announced to her empty room. "Forget it ever happened. Kamen Rider probably doesn't care, and even if he does, he's too polite to say anything."
But deep down, she knew it wasn't that simple. This wasn't just about some random superhero. This was about Kamen Rider, about the confusing, fluttering feeling she got whenever he smiled, about the way her heart did a little skip whenever their hands accidentally brushed. This was about the fact that she might, just might, have a crush on him.
And that, she realized with a fresh wave of panic, was a whole different level of complicated.
RING RING
The shrill ring of her phone cut through the silence of her room, and Kara’s heart skipped a beat as Haruka’s name flashed across the screen. She fumbled with the device, her fingers suddenly clumsy.
"Hey, Haruka," she said, trying to sound casual, as if she hadn’t just been conducting an internal investigation into the depths of her romantic inclinations.
"Hey, Kara. Just wanted to check in, make sure you're okay after that robot attack," his voice, warm and laced with genuine concern, washed over her. Her heart did that little skip again. Damn it.
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she replied, a little too quickly. "Just, you know, another Tuesday in National City." She cringed inwardly. Smooth, Kara, real smooth.
"Glad to hear it," Haruka chuckled softly, and the sound sent a shiver down her spine. "It was a shame our hangout got cut short like that."
"Yeah, totally," she agreed, forcing a brighter tone. "I was really looking forward to that movie. And the ice cream."
"We'll definitely have to reschedule," he promised. "Soon."
"I'd love that," she blurted out, then winced, her cheeks burning. "I mean… yeah, that would be great."
A beat of silence stretched between them, and Kara panicked, wondering if she'd said too much. Then, she couldn't help herself from saying what came to mind.
She lowered her voice to a near whisper, "It would be better if it was only the two of us."
A longer pause and Kara was about to regret what she said but Haruka breaks the silence.
"I don't mind hanging out with just the two of us."
Her breath hitched. Had he really heard that? She hadn't meant to say that aloud! Mortification warred with a sudden surge of… giddiness? No, no, bad Kara. Reign it in.
"Oh, um… well… that’s…" she stammered, her carefully constructed composure crumbling around her.
"Anyway," Haruka said, smoothly changing the subject, and Kara breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the lifeline. "Just wanted to make sure you were safe. Talk to you later?"
"Yeah, definitely," she managed, her voice still a little shaky. "Bye, Haruka."
"Bye, Kara."
The line went dead, and Kara stared at her phone, her mind racing. She could feel her heart thumping against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of her room.
Okay, this was getting out of hand. She liked Haruka. There was no denying it.
But then the dilemma hit her. She liked Haruka and Kamen Rider. It was like two separate feelings, two distinct objects of affection, existing in parallel universes. She liked them both. It wasn’t just about the powers, it was also about their kindness.
It wasn’t just the strength and the bravery. It was the empathy, the willingness to put themselves on the line for others. The quiet moments of understanding, the shared smiles, the feeling that she wasn't alone. She liked them both for those reasons.
Kara flopped back onto her bed, staring at the ceiling. Choosing a villain to fight? Easy. Choosing an outfit for Cat Grant? Tricky, but manageable. Choosing between Haruka and… Kamen Rider? Impossible.
It was like being asked to pick a favorite lung. They were both essential! One was a constant companion, a grounding presence, a purveyor of questionable jokes. The other, a beacon of hope, a masked marvel of stoic heroism. How could anyone possibly decide?
…
Meanwhile, not too far away, in a rundown warehouse filled with disassembled toys and half-finished automatons, Winslow Schott, better known as the Toyman, surveyed the wreckage of his latest scheme. Colorful robots, once brimming with menacing intent, lay scattered and broken, their gears grinding to a halt.
"Oh, fiddlesticks!" he chirped, his voice a jarring contrast to the scene of mechanical carnage. Winslow kicked a deactivated wind-up monkey, sending it skidding across the floor. "Those pesky heroes just had to spoil all the fun, didn't they?"
He adjusted his oversized glasses, his gaze hardening. "First that girl in blue, now that metal-clad maniac. And was that a Martian I saw? So many party crashers, so little time."
Toyman clapped his hands together, a sinister glint in his eyes. "Well, if they want to play rough, I can play rougher. After all, who doesn’t like a bit of…re-gifting?"
He picked up a teddy bear, its eyes glowing with a sinister red light. Toyman smirked.
Toyman scowls at his fallen bots and is angry that the heroes had interfered with his plans.
