Chapter Text
For 800 years, Norrisville has been protected by The Ninja. Every four years, a new warrior is chosen to wield the mask and protect the good people of the city. I, Randy Cunningham, was chosen my freshman year of high school and it’s the single most BRUCE thing to ever happen to me!
I faced a lot that year: Evil Julian, the Sorcerer, McFist trying to kill me for personal gain while serving the Sorcerer, and that one time Howard and I got sent back the 1200s and MET THE FIRST NINJA!
This year, I’m facing my next big challenge – well, that’s not to say I’m not still dealing with McFist. I defeated the Sorcerer, so everything connected to that disappeared. It’s nice to finally wash my hands of that piece of ninja business. I can barely wash the Ninja suit itself. Turns out you can’t pop the mask into the washer and expect the entire suit to be clean.
That’s right – the Ninja has to shower in his full suit. If I don’t want to smell like a fart or whatever cheese I’ve fallen into that week, I’ve gotta wash that thing somehow. Not like the NinjaNomicon (which is basically the Ninja handbook) gave me any tips about it…
Uh, okay – my biggest challenge this year is figuring myself out. I’ve become so defined by being the Ninja, I’ve kinda lost sight of myself. What do I want in life? What can I think about besides people getting stanked and whatever McFist is planning next?
Now, I know what you’re thinking: is the Ninja having an identity crisis? The Ninja, who’s so well defined as a noble, brave hero, pure of heart, doesn’t know what juice he’s all about?
Yes.
I’ve come to realization that since no one – besides Howard – knows the Ninja isn’t an 800-year-old entity, I’m nobody. I’m a great hero and a protector but who am I? Who is Randy Cunningham? How can I be Randy Cunningham if my personality, even as the Ninja, is just tossed into a homogenous stew and stirred until gone?
As of right now, Howard and I are partaking in a Grave Puncher marathon, starting from the original game up to the current iteration: CyberGrave Punch-Punch Revolution in 3D: The Remastered Masterpiece, now with multiplayer. These thoughts are still flooding my mind and I know I’m totally sucking at punching graves but I can’t shake out of it.
“Cunningham, I don’t remember you being such a shoob at Grave Puncher 5. You good?”
“Uh-huh.”
Howard furrows his brow and elbows me hard in the ribs. “Ow! What the juice, Howard?”
His orange pompadour shifts as he turns towards me. “You’re spacing out hard. Where are you?” he asks again.
“Oh, you know, just…” I trail off and muster some sort of something, “…thinking maybe we could skip Grave Puncher 6. They really pushed for that game and h’oh boy, did the writing ever suffer. I just can’t stand to drag myself through all that horrible dialogue.” I flash a reassuring smile.
Howard puts his controller down and crosses his arms. “You’re not telling me whatever’s bothering you because…?”
I can’t hold this fake smile or tell another lie. (Although that’s not to say Grave Puncher 6 didn’t suck because it did.) “Listen, I’m going through something really personal and I don’t know what I’m doing or how I feel about…anything,” I say as honestly and sorrowfully as I can. I hope this gets him off my case, buuuuut –
“We’re literally best friends. You can tell me anything.”
“I can’t –”
“You can! We’ve been through this before! You can and have to tell me everything. What’s the point of being best friends if we’re not open to each other about everything?” he presses on.
I take a breath and a slow blink.
“Howard,” I say calmly and firmly, “this is something I need to figure out a bit myself before I talk to anyone about it. It’s nothing personal against you. It’s just a lot of inner turmoil. I’ve spent so much time destanking and defending, I haven’t had too much room to breathe in my own skin. I just need a little space, emotionally speaking.”
The brown eyes before me squint. “I’ll figure this out.” He picks up the game controller again and goes back to the title screen. Still squinting, Howard warns, “This better not be about you thinking about my sister again. I’ll end you.”
“What? No! I’m past that! I’ve been past that! For ages!”
“Good.”
Howard’s spooky but totally justified threat over, we skip straight to CyberGrave. I honkin’ love CyberGrave! The first iteration had graphics that couldn’t meet the phenomenal writing if it tried! Now, the graphics are so brucely epic and there are so many new things! Nameable, customizable characters and choice of love interest. You’d think adding a love interest to Grave Puncher would ruin the grave punching but it’s so nice to have other side quests and story paths. So bruce!
I take the TV and GameStation to play my character, and Howard sets up the McFist Pad to play his. We’ll set up a private game and we’re golden!
“Randy,” Howard pipes up as he connects his controller to his side of the game.
I’m in the middle of drinking my soda. “Yeah, buddy?”
“This thing you’re mulling over…”
I hum through my soda, now chugging it in an effort to avoid this again.
“…is it about you being bi?”
My throat clenches and I cough out the soda in my mouth. There’s soda down my clothes, puddled in my beanbag chair, and some sneaking its way towards my GameStation.
“Dude!” Howard pulls my hoodie off of me and throws it in front of the game system, inches away from its soda-y grave.
“How – when – why?” I spit out with the rest of the liquid in my mouth. The “why” was meant for “Why’d you do that with my hoodie?” but it still fits the bill for the actual issue here.
“Gah! You almost ruined our marathon! You almost destroyed a $500 piece of hardware!” he exclaims. He makes sure my hoodie’s soaked up what’s on the floor and throws it in my lap. Real helpful.
“Howard! How did you know about – you know!” I insist. All the blood in my body is rushing to my face. I might die. The first Ninja to die at all but specifically to whatever emotion is overtaking my brain.
“I’ve looked through your email before.”
“That tells me nothing!”
“Ugh. I’ve seen the email from the ‘Am I gay quiz?’ you took freshman year. I’ve known longer than that, though. The email results just put a label on it.”
I go to speak but nothing comes out. Eventually, I revert to shoving my face in my hands.
“Dude, you’re fine. What makes you think I care about you liking dudes? Some dudes have it going on.” I hear Howard run a hand through his hair. “Like me for example. I wouldn’t blame you if you had a crush on me at some point. I’m one fine hunk of a man.”
I don’t move. I don’t think he realizes how mortifying this is.
“I don’t care that you’re bi,” Howard says in a warm tone, “I love you for you. You’re my best friend. This is just part of you and that’s the cheese.”
I can’t move.
A hand pushes on my shoulder and my own hands fall into my soda-soaked hoodie. I can’t bring myself to look up. “Whoa, are you crying?”
“I, um, I haven’t been able to say it out loud to myself,” I struggle to say, “and here you are, saying it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. I wasn’t ready.”
“Oh.”
We’re both quiet, the energetic title screen music playing for CyberGrave before us.
“Do you want me to leave? I didn’t realize saying that would cross a line.”
“N-no. Just give me a minute.”
I see Howard nod out of my peripheral vision and I stay put. There’s so much think and probably so much to say but I need the silence. I need a moment.
When I’m able to pick my head up, I force myself to take a deep breath. I’m itching to know what tipped my best friend off before about me, but my biggest concern falls right out. “What if I’m the only queer Ninja in Ninja history and everyone finds out? The Norrisville Ninja can’t be queer. He’s like, the everyman. A hero, always, but ultimately…just some guy in black and red pajamas with a sword and a book. If anyone ever finds out, the Ninja is gonna get hate crimed…and so will I.”
“Aw, I think you’re overthinking this.”
I sniffle. “Of course I am. How could I not? I’m the second most influential figure in the city. I can’t imagine how people would react if they knew.”
“I’m sure there have been other queer Ninjas. In 800 years, it’d be pretty impossible for every Ninja to be straight – or cis, for that matter.”
“Yeah, but if I’m found out, that ruins it for every future Ninja.”
“I’d like you to realize that not every Ninja is white. You showed me the Ninja Hall in the Nomicon. If people honestly think the Ninja has just even been one dude, there are generations of moron shoobs all around us.”
“McFist can’t figure out who I am despite that my voice and the Ninja’s voice are the same. Nobody realized you in the suit wasn’t me that one time. No one ever finds it weird that I disappear and the Ninja appears.
“Granted, there’s probably something in the water in this town, but everyone around us are moron shoobs.” I wipe one of my cheeks with my hand. “There’s probably also some kinda Ninja Magic involved. I don’t know.”
“If no one can figure out who you are, no one’s gonna figure out who you are,” Howard says, somehow falling between sounding matter-of-factly and reassuring.
“I mean, I guess.” Another tear escapes my eye. “How’d you figure it out?”
“Email.”
“No, before that.”
Lacing his fingers together, Howard cracks all of his knuckles. “Well, in fifth grade, you had a crush on Avery Volner.”
“Yeah?”
“Avery Volner was a guy.”
“I didn’t know that. How would that –”
“I told you at least twice, dude. You didn’t care.”
“Oh.” My mind scrambles for who Avery Volner was but I can’t even remember what he would’ve looked like. Why would I have a crush on a guy who’s just blended into the background of the world? That’s lame.
Howard reclines in his seat and crosses his ankles. “Not to mention, the Brock Octane shrine you hid in your closet in sixth grade wasn’t exactly a straight thing to do.”
The barrage of emotions inside me has calmed somewhat. Tears dried and face cooled, I jump to my defense. “That wasn’t a crush thing. I wanted to be like him, not,” realization overcomes me, “oh, cheese. I did have a crush on Brock Octane.”
A finger enters my vision. Howard corrects me, “Do. You do have a crush on him. You’ve seen all his movies. You even saw his movie that scored negative three on Moldy Cheese.”
“Aw, come on. That was so bad, it was good!”
“It was playing in select theaters. You rode three buses to see it.”
He’s got me there.
“Also, you think I didn’t notice your CyberGrave character has a boyfriend? There’s no achievement for that. You can’t even claim it was an accident; you went for the buff bear, not the twink.”
“Hold up. Why do you know so many LGBT terms?” I’ve got a really stupid smile on my face and I welcome it, full force.
“I wanted to be ready when you were ready to be more open. I didn’t know if you were ever gonna come out or if you were just gonna vibe. Gotta be on top of things for my best friend. We bicker a lot but I’ve gotchu.”
Tears weld up in my eyes again. “I love you, man.”
“Love you, too, Cunningham. Now, we’ve got some graves to punch!”