Note: This is a spinoff of mtcff ULTRA, the weekly fighting fanfic! However, oth
er than generally knowing what Ultra is and that Nabiki is a bitch ^_^&; you don
't need to know anything else to enjoy the story. It's a solo project of mine an
d uses 100% original characters. Hope you like it!
-=-
Once upon a time there was a man who couldn't stand what he was anymore,
so he changed his life. That man was full of excitement and energy,
bristling with imagination of the new opportunities ahead of him. No longer
was he the nervous, panicky salaryman of old.
Tonight he was the nervous, panicky salaryman of old. He'd spent two
hours in the office of the slightly run down NeoDome, looking through the
files of his new fighters, trying to pick the best three matches that he
could. They had three titles to give out, and he needed to make sure every
competitor out there tonight could be a plausible ratings draw... and that
wasn't something easily done with this lot.
He remembered hearing about how Controversial Jack would book 'by
dartboard', which was a figurative euphemism for taking a dart and throwing
it at a board to see what names go into the hat. Satoshi was not of that
school; he had sports-entertainment in his blood, or at least he thought he
did, and that meant attention to detail. What two competitors would provide
the most exciting matchup? What styles would be the most compatible? Would
it be possible to worry about either of these things when you had slim
pickings to begin with?
In the end, he had booked the card. The final sheet was drawn up in his
spiral notebook only a half hour before showtime, after everybody had arrived
and staked out dressing rooms, after the cameras were prepping and the
audience was arriving. Satoshi stepped out of the door with a sticky note on
it reading 'Comissioner's Office' and marched the whole ten feet to the
backstage area. Beyond that curtain, the ramp, the ring... and the fans.
Back here was where it all came together.
Specifically, it came together with lots and lots of duct tape, which
the young man who had introduced himself only as The Dude was applying to a
rat's nest of cables.
"Ah... Dude-san?" Satoshi addressed, not sure how else to name him.
'The' felt so improper.
"Yo, boss!" Dude called, waving the hand that wasn't stuck to the wires
by misplaced tape. "Got the card? Boys in production wanna make up the
graphics for the chyrons."
"Chryons?" Satoshi asked, envisioning some sort of horrible winged hawk-
like beast that breathed fire. He twitched slightly.
"Those little captions with names on 'em that pop out when someone walks
in," Dude explained in Layman's Terms. "You know. Chyrons."
"Oh, CHYRONS. Yes, actually, I have it right--"
"EXCUSE me!"
Rodent-like instincts kicking in, Satoshi-san immediately began to cower
at the might of that voice. He turned, to see one of the largest men he'd
ever met striding on over... muscles like chiseled steel, short hair dyed to
a perfect jet black, red and white tights gleaming like the rising sun of
Japan.
Much to his horror, the monster promptly grabbed his hand and squeezed,
a firm westerner's sign of greeting. Satoshi's hand went numb. The man then
stepped back and bowed sharply... but not very low.
"I am pleased to meet you, Satoshi-san!" he boomed, all smiles. "I am,
of course, The Great Yaga. I understand this is a new Ultra production?
Excellent, excellent. You've made the right decision in hiring one as famous
as I to headline your show!"
"Ah... thank you, Yaga-san," Satoshi said. Memory flooded back to him
on hearing that voice. "I actually saw many of your matches from your All-
Japan run ten years ago. You were quite a burning spirit in the ring!"
"Of course, of course," Yaga dismissed. "And tonight, I will burn for
the proud banner of Ultra, as your main event champion!"
"Errr... you're not in the main event."
"Pardon?" Yaga said, puzzled.
Satoshi-san lifted his notes, to doublecheck his scratchy handwriting.
"We have three title matches tonight, for the NeoTag titles, NeoJapan title,
and the NeoWorld championship title. I've actually got you booked for the
NeoJapan title in the midcard--"
"Come come now, Satoshi-san, you and I both know the fans wish to see
The Great Yaga in the main event," Yaga laughed. "Me? A midcarder? I
hardly think that to be an appropriate position."
"No no, there's actually some logic to it," Satoshi explained. "See,
I've studied Ultra for a long time, and I've found the ratings go up a bit
when a younger competitor is the champion. It all has to do with the 12-24
demographics and--"
"I don't think you're understanding my meaning, Satoshi-san," Yaga
spoke, a bit more firmly. "I am not going to be fighting anything other than
the main event tonight. Have you read my contract? In detail? I
specifically requested in my letter that on acceptance into Ultra, that I be
given full control over booking my own matches. Since said application was
accepted, this means I legally can say who I fight and when I fight them.
*I* say I get a shot at the NeoWorld title, tonight, on the premiere episode.
If you do not grant that... well, you'd be in violation of contract and I'd
have to complain to Miss Tendo, I'm afraid. Are you understanding me now,
sir?"
The salaryman's knees buckled. He was no good at confrontations. The
very concept of someone with his prestige and power going straight to Nabiki
Tendo... Nabiki, who would get very upset about putting Ultra in legal hot
water... and would likely demand an explanation and--
"Main event," Satoshi repeated. "Very good. It's not a problem. It's
not like I spent hours laboring over this, after all! Okay. Ah. Better get
prepared, you're in for a challenge, ha ha!"
"Good!" Yaga cheered, returning to all smiles. "I shall do just that.
Have some rice and noodles sent to my dressing room immediately. Onward
towards glory!"
Sichi was only able to breathe easier after Yaga was out of sight.
"Buckled like a belt, huh?" Dude asked.
"I wouldn't say that," Satoshi defended, crossing off a name at random
in the main event and scribbling in Yaga. "I mean, we have to accommodate
our fighters. A happy employee is a productive employee..."
"Excuse me!"
Oh, great kami, what now? Sichi thought, turning now to look at... a
drop dead vision of womanhood strutting his way. Wearing a slinky yellow
dress, with flowing blonde hair and plenty of jewelry... this was only
marginally less frightening than a giant muscleman; Satoshi had never been
very good with women, and...
"My eyes are up here, pops," the woman warned.
"Aah! Yes? Hello?" Satoshi asked, looking up.
"Akari Jameson. Or Jameson Akari or however you guys want to call it,"
she said, extending a hand to shake (and not crushing his hand in the
process). "I'm your new announcer. Eye candy for the desk, basically, but
I've watched enough Ultra to know how to do the job. You're Satoshi-san,
right? So, Satoshi, where's the beer man?"
"Over there," the Dude said, pointing at a passing vendor with his
scissors, which he was using to free his trapped hand.
Akari turned, and put on her brightest smile. Swooping in like an eagle
for the kill, she snatched up a frosty can, and walked back without paying.
"Compliments of the house, right?" she asked, after popping it open.
Satoshi was at a loss. "Err, well, I don't think you should be drinking
on the job..."
By the time he'd finished admonishing her, she had finished the entire
can and tossed the empty aside. "MUCH better!" she called out, stretching
and unkinking her muscles, in a very distracting display. "Now we can
continue. Which way to the front lines?"
"The front..? Oh, your desk," Satoshi translated. "The ring and
everything are right through that curtain, but we've still got a few minutes
until showtime so nobody's allowed out there yet--"
"What? You mean you haven't gotten anyone to warm up the crowd?" Akari
asked, appalled (as she stole another beer off the vendor, who was on his way
out to the stands). "How are you expecting that big opening pop if the
crowd's too surprised to cheer? Jeez! Well, that's fine. Nothing I can't
handle; I wasn't on the cheerleading squad for four years without learning a
few things. Excuse."
"Huh? Hello? What? HEY! Wait!" Satoshi called, rushing after her as
she strolled her bad self on out of there...
And was frozen. The stands weren't packed, but they were reasonably
full; word had gotten out, somehow. Thousands of people sitting here,
waiting for Ultra, waiting for HIS show... and all of them turned to look at
him. It was like being a deer in headlights.
Then he realized those eyes were rapidly turning from him to Akari,
since she was currently climbing in the ring through the ropes, and giving
the folks behind her a good show while doing it. She set her beer down by the
apron, for the time being; somehow she'd gotten a mike, possibly swiping it
off a stage hand, and was about to speak.
"HELLLLLO, Ultra fans!" she called, her voice filling the NeoDome,
echoing from every corner -- and followed immediately by a blast of feedback.
She pouted towards the backstage area.
"My bad," the Dude's muffled voice spoke, as the noise ceased.
"Much better," Akari agreed. "Now. Where was I? Oh, right.
HELLLLOOOO, Ultra fans! Are you ready for some hot fighting action? Are you
ready for some patented Ultra style craziness? Are you ready to see some of
the hottest young studs ever to grace Kami's green earth?"
A quiet, but enthusiastic high pitched cheer came up from the women in
the crowd.
"And guys, ready to see some of the naughtiest women ever to be spawned
from Adam's rib?!"
NOW the cheer got louder. Until their dates elbowed them promptly in
Adam's rib, after which it became a light clap of polite appreciation.
Satoshi was having a heart attack. Who WAS this crazy announcer?! She
was selling the event like a sex show! He quickly rushed out and got into
the ring, to explain to her how this didn't really match the mission
statement and how she'd have to adjust her...
Hairs stood up on the back of his neck. Thousands of eyes were on him
again, and he could feel the eighteen wheeler steaming down the interstate
towards his poor, fragile deer-like body, headlights blazing...
"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present NeoFighter's head cheese... Sichi
Satoshi!" Akari introduced, never missing a beat. "Hey hey, let's give it up
for the MAN! We've got a few moments before the show starts, and he's got
something to say to all you great folks who have come out here tonight to
witness our big coming out party! Satoshi-san?"
".................." keynoted Satoshi-san.
Akari cupped a hand over the mike. "Hey, relax. It's easier than it
sounds. Just imagine everybody in their underwear--"
"Aaah!"
"Okay, maybe not that," she corrected. "But just close your eyes and
think about it. C'mon. This is called style and presentation. It's a
historic moment. You gotta mark it with some words. For the record. For
prosperity. Don't make me look bad out here or I'll castrate you. Cool?"
"Yes ma'am," Sichi quickly replied. Yes, dominant figures giving him
orders, THAT he could relate to. He took the mike, cleared his throat... and
began. Don't think too hard about it. Just from the heart...
The first line just popped right into his head.
"You know, I was an Ultra fan just like all of you," he started. "Every
week I'd watch the show. I mean... I love the show. It's great. You guys
must like it too, to come to this event... I understand right now we're a
complete unknown, but... I'm hoping we'll build a legacy. Flying under the
Ultra banner, but I want NeoFighters to be something special by itself, too.
This has always been my dream, that... that I could do something that would
mean this much, not just sit around all day behind a desk and do nothing
important. But that's just me; the important ones are you. That you get to
enjoy this and we get to bring it to you. So, um... well... enjoy the show.
I'm happy you could be here, and ... and, er... um..."
The curtain flap pushed aside slightly. "Twenty seconds!" the Dude
hissed.
"Oh! Well, it seems we're ready now," Satoshi continued. "Ah... let's
all yell real loud and cheer! Right! Let's hear it for Ultra! Let's hear
it for NeoFighters! What? Why are you holding up fingers?"
"It's a countdown," Akari reminded, taking the mike back. "LET'S MAKE
SOME NOOOOISE!"
And the crowd did just that. It was phenominal... not the thundering
roar like a jet engine taking off, not like any metaphor you could hurl at
the crowd of Ultra when the show starts... but this time, it was his. This
was Satoshi's show generating this response. A tear of pride welled up in
his eye. Then the migrane headache from pounding, unrelenting noise started
to crush his brain.
"TEN! NINE! EIGHT!" Akari counted down. "SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR--"
All the lights in the building went out.
Cheers of delight went to screams of panic.
All the lights went back on.
"Sorry, my bad," the Dude called from backstage.
Dear Kami, just let me get through this night, Satoshi prayed
internally. And then the red light on the cameras went LIVE...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
the new generation of
anime sports-entertainment
==--------------------==
/ MTCFF \
| . . +-- |
< |\ | +- >
| | \|E O | I G H T E R S |
\ ` ` ` /
==--------------------==
an Ultra production
http://www.mtcffultra.com/
Episode #1: Before We Learn To Walk...
booked by stefan gagne
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The resulting pop was not quite the wave of cheers they were hoping for,
with a few of the panicked yells mixed in. It left quite a few television
viewers scratching their heads in confusion and made Satoshi wonder where he
left his Pepto Bismol.
Turning to the camera focusing on her, and hoping her boss wasn't going
to wet his pants on national television, Akari did the honors. "HELLLOOOO
everybody, and welcome to NEOFIGHTERS! Bringing you the cream of the crop,
the finest of the fine, the best of the rest of what's left... the new
generation of sports-entertainment!"
She paused for a cheer from the crowd. It didn't turn out to be a very
big one, so she rolled right along.
"We've got a spectacular show for you tonight, along with plenty of low
camera angle shots of ME!" she declared. "But first, there are fights to
take care of. We'll be kicking this thing into full gear first, with....
with... oi, boss, what's up first?"
"Hello? Yes? What?" Satoshi babbled, before grappling the soap from
the bathtub of self control. "Oh. Ah. NeoTag titles. Um. I should be
backstage now, shouldn't I?"
There was a light chuckle from the crowd, as Satoshi realized he'd said
that into the mike.
Akari rolled her eyes. "DUH! Yes, you should be!" She mimed booting
him in the ass, much to the delight of the crowd, as Satoshi bailed at five
times the speed of sound (or at least wished he could). "It'll be just one
minute, folks! While we're waiting, I'm going to lean over the ropes in this
dress while blowing kisses, for those with the benefit of flash photography!"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Black crucifix, pocket sized, check. Handy travel size flask of unholy
water, check. Chalk made from the ashes of the diseased, check. Juju bag,
check. All portable devices of demonic power and tainted nightmarish
abominations, check, check, check. We are go for television.
"Neeee, Kisei, which looks better on me?" Keiko asked, holding up two
outfits that looked crosses between ninja garb and stage costumes for the
sort of performer you'd see in Las Vegas. "The red one or the brown one?
The brown one is softer, but the red one sparkles!"
"Why not just go as you are?" Kisei asked, adjusting her leather jacket,
and trying not to look at her parading-around-the-dressing-room-buck-naked
sister. "It'd only be marginally less decent that the stuff you usually
wear."
"Come on, sis, take this seriously!" Keiko pleaded. "These are the
traditional clothes of our kunoichi clan! Mother even loaned me this one
from her personal collection, and--"
"See, the bit I don't get is why you constantly wear skimpy little
fanservice outfits when CLEARLY you don't like perverts oggling you," Kisei
asked. "I mean, that's the whole problem with the kunoichi business, isn't
it? Instead of being real masked agents of silent death you parade around
like a peacock. A peacock with massive mammaries."
"It's TRADITION," Keiko reinforced. "We've fought like this for
generations, triumphant warriors and noble huntresses of the forces of evil
and not-good! I'm proud of my heritage and I don't understand why you keep
resisting. Now. Red or--"
"Wake up and smell the millenium, okay??" Kisei snarled, getting to her
feet. "Mom's living in yesteryear! Nobody gives a rat's ass about ninjas
now, unless they're green and have shells on their backs!"
"Shows what YOU know! Those went out in the eighties!"
"Who CARES?!" Kisei shouted. "The point is that you need a reality
check! All you're going to get are jeers and catcalls in that, and I can't
see how you can stand it!"
"Well, at least I HAVE a body to show, instead of covering up a BOY'S
body with icky black dresses and bad makeup!"
"I happen to LIKE black dresses. Black goes with everything. Black is
the universal color of death and death is the universal standard of life. If
you're a REAL ninja, you wouldn't be all zippy and cheerful and peppy.
You've never fought anyone or anyTHING to the death before and you never
will, and this whole Ultra thing is just your excuse to justify why you keep
doing this when you know it's ridiculous!"
Keiko turned red. Red with anger or embarrassment, it wasn't clear.
"Why, you... you..... YOU--"
A light knocking sounded at the door, and Satoshi opened it a crack, to
look in. "Ano, Kisei and Keiko? You're on in--"
"KYAAAA!!!" Keiko shrieked, holding her robes in front of her.
"Pervert! Peeping tom!"
Taking the initiative, Kisei snapped her fingers and summoned the black
wind that howls. The door slammed shut hard, muffling the thud of wood on
nose and Satoshi's yelp of pain.
"Go with the red," Kisei decided. "And let's get this over with."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
"And we're underway!" Akari announced, while popping open her next beer.
"This tag team matchup is for the NEOTAG TITLES! As everybody knows, gold is
a girl's best friend (and diamonds are a red hot lover in comparison), so who
better to challenge for the belts than two hardcore pieces of GIRL POWER?
Introducing first, in a simply STUNNING red frock, Keiko Kenji! And in the
dull black smock, Kisei Kenji."
Kisei didn't mind the lack of huge response. She wasn't here to play up
to the crowd... even if Keiko was, as her sister cheerfully waved and bounced
up and down and showed off to the extreme.
Doc Martins clanging nastily on the steel steps at the ringpost, Kisei
hauled herself between the ropes, and leaned back in the corner, awaiting
their opponent while Keiko did some warmup somersaults, much to the delight
of the crowd.
"And introducing their opponents..." Akari continued, reading off a
hastily handwritten page torn from a spiral notebook. "Oh my my.
Introducing the team of... Long Dong Wang and Sumyung Gai!"
Some bizarre train wreck of a disco song as performed by an 80's hair
metal band blared out of the cheap sound system, as the spotlight focused on
the entrance ramp... where stood a large, muscular Japanese dude with dragons
tattooed up and down his arms. He wore a flashy, spangly, somewhat dorky
vest and pants with some dojo's logo on the lapels; with him was an
unassuming little guy in ninja garb.
"YO YO YO!" Long Dong Wang called out. "Please to be making the noise!
The roof will be raised! Long Dong is in the hizouse and the beyotches would
do best to be recognizing, yo! I am to be the Shogun of Shinjuku, you dig?
My posse are most dangerous! You do not want to be having intercourse with
me, or I will burst a bottle cap in your behind! I am very bad dudes, all
your asses are belonging to us!!"
It was all Kisei could do not to burst out laughing, as Long Dong Wang
flexed and posed and generally tried to look like one mean mofo. It was
almost like the guy was translating himself from Japanese to English and back
to Japanese again. Of course... arm tattoos were never a very good sign,
especially given Yakuza activity in this bad part of town--
Long Dong stopped flexing when Keiko started kicking him in the face.
The bell didn't ring; after all, the match couldn't actually begin until all
four were in the ring.
"Oh, for crying out... KEIKO!" Kisei called from the squared circle.
"You're supposed to fight them in here, not out there! I thought you watched
this stupid show! Get back here!"
"Wow, this one might not even get underway!" Akari announced, leaning
forward (for the benefit of the cameras). "It seems the legendary Poison
Fist of the Pacific is no match for the bouncy kunoichi!"
After a few moments of nastiness, LDW managed to put up some defense;
knocking Keiko's foot away, causing her to spin out of control from the
kick's momentum. He snapped his fingers, striking a disco pose
simultaneously. "Sumyung, loyal ninja servant! Please to be handling crazy
bitch while fighting other is what I do!"
The minion bowed sharply. "Hai, oyabun!" he shouted in an astoundingly
annoying high pitched voice. The ninja whipped out a pair of nunchucks, and
pouncing... and accidentally clinging to Keiko's breasts.
"KYAAAAAAA!!!!" Keiko shrieked, loud enough to blow a few speakers in
the house. "HENTAI!" And lo, the one-sided vicious beatdown did commence.
(Clearly, stock in faceless minions was going down these days.)
It, however, did leave the Yakuza gangster free to storm the ring,
sliding in under the bottom rope; Kisei jumped aside reflexively, giving him
enough time to get to his feet, roll his shoulders, pop his joints. Make a
real show out of it.
"You, weird chick in black, are to be next on Long Wong Wang's list of
people who he will destroy, you dig?" Long taunted, assuming some absurd
martial arts pose.
"You're kidding me, right? This has got to be a put on. Some sort of
fake wrestling gimmick for the TV audience. I mean, pal, you are the lamest,
most pathetic dork I've ever seen," Kisei retorted, not undergoing any sort
of buttkicking posing, unless 'Power Loitering' counted as an ancient art of
fighting. Despite her lack of motion, she was slipping a hand into the
pocket of her leather jacket... fingering the black crucifix she kept there.
"I've seen game show hosts more intimidating than you. How exactly do you
propose to be destroying me, anyway?--"
A fist planted itself into Kisei's stomach. She doubled over in pain,
losing her grip on the artifact... realizing that some part of her raised on
network television had assumed that guys don't hit girls, and realizing how
stupid that assumption truly was. She staggered backwards, into the ropes,
and stood limp...
"Yo yo, your weakness is leading to forfeit of match!" LDW laughed,
bouncing from foot to foot, holding up his fists. "You are no equal for my
mad skeelz! If you give up, maybe Long Dong Wang be cool and show you his
Nipponese Pleasure Rocket later, you dig?"
Akari peered across the distance, from ringside. "And Kisei just stands
there, while the bad dude sexually harasses her in the workplace! Is she
mad? Is she upset? Is she planning a lawsuit that will drain this company's
money and put me out of a job? Damn, I hope it's not that..."
Long Dong Wang's eyebrow went up from behind his gold-framed mega cool
sunglasses, as Kisei slowly raised her head. Not very much... just enough to
roll her eyes up, and glare at him through her caked on black mascara.
Glaring at a point six feet inside his skull.
"Do that again," she ordered quietly. Daring him.
After a quick shrug, Long swung hard with a right cross. Kisei's head
snapped sharply from the blow, and rolled back into place... hand rising and
sliding out from the oversized sleeve of her jacket to wipe her mouth of any
blood. The creepiness factor Long Dong was experiencing jumped from two to
six Blair Witch Projects. Especially when Kisei started to glow black.
'Glowing black' is very hard to explain. Battle auras were common in
Ultra, but they usually were pink (Dan) or red (Ranma) or blue (Shingo). A
wobbly energy field dripping upward that went out of color and through the
other side just hurt the eyes.
Needless to say, Long Dong stepped back a few paces. "What sort of
unusual mixed up fecal matter is this?" he wondered aloud. "You need to be
chilling out, yo! We are in fight, yeah? It's not a matter of personals!"
"Do it again!" Kisei ordered, marching to follow. "C'mon! Do it! I
DARE you! Hit me again, big man! You think you're bad? You think you're
some bad dude? You've got NO concept of how 'bad' things can be..."
Akari peeked out from behind her desk -- literally, as she crouched
behind it. "Don't worry folks, I'm getting full life insurance!" she
announced. "Although I'll admit I have few regrets in life, and it was fun
while it lasted..."
Indoor weather systems are known for making the crowd antsy, and there
WAS some kind of wind picking up inside the NeoDome. It whirled around a
focus, a focus rapidly advancing on Long as the generic black and white
striped referee bailed from the ring... bad stuff was about to happen, and it
was about to happen to LDW no matter where he ran...
Or would have, if a battered ninja hadn't crashed into Kisei. The two
slammed into the mat hard, an awkward little pile of humanity.
Keiko Kenji flipped into the ring, rebounding off the turnbuckle to land
in a pose. "I have defeated my enemy! Wai!" she announced.
The referee, having lost all control anyway, gave the signal for the
bell to start the match. At least everybody was in the ring now.
][ NEOTAG TITLE MATCH
][ KISEI/KEIKO vs. LONG DONG WANG/SUMYUNG GAI
][ FIGHT!!
An annoyed groan sounded from under Sumyung Gai, as Kisei tried to push
him off herself. The wind and the black aura and all the special effects
were gone, leaving behind the same irritated young woman who was here before.
"Keiko, you ditz! You made me lose my concentration!"
"But I beat the bad guy!" Keiko pouted, ignoring Long Dong Wang's
stunned silence.
"Oh, for crying... FORGET this," Kisei snarled. She pulled herself
under the bottom rope, and landed on her feet. "This whole thing was a
stupid idea, anyway! I'm going home."
"But the match--!"
Kisei was already up the entrance ramp before further protest could be
launched. The referee peeked out from behind the ring apron, waited ten,
shrugged, and called for the bell. Two gold belts were offered, which LDW
quickly snatched up and slung over a shoulder, grinning a million yen.
"Well, that sucks," Akari cheerfully announced. "Your winners and new
NeoTag Champions by count-out disqualification, Long Dong Wang and Sumyung
Gai!"
"Hooray," the ninja minion weakly cheered, snapping open a tattered fan
with the rising sun of Japan on it. "Oyabun... may we go to the emergency
room now? Please? Oooh..."
Keiko's pout turned into a pout on top of a pout behind a very unhappy
pout. She balled up her fists and shook a hand at the sky in protest of this
unfair treatment -- before feeling an arm slip around her shoulder.
"Hey, the luck is a very random thing," Long Dong Wang soothed. "But
Long is here to console your soul in this the hour of most need, hot young
chick! What you need is a ride on the Nipponese--"
Keiko jammed her other fist under LDW's jaw, knocking him flat, and
swung herself out of the ring to follow her sister.
Akari tossed an empty beer can aside. "I'd call that as good a time as
any for a word from our sponsor," she decided. "Stay tuned, folks. There's
nowhere to go but up."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The one that coats is the only one you need, supposedly. Nuts to that.
This Pepto Bismol was NOT working. Satoshi tossed the empty bottle aside,
and mopped at his forehead with a napkin from the nearby concession stand.
No, things were not going well, not well at all...
First he was nearly run down by a very determined girl in black, then he
WAS run down by her sister who was in hot pursuit. At least the new tag team
champions seemed happy, even if one of them was headed to Tokyo General.
"Ah.. you need an ambulance?" Satoshi asked, wincing in sympathy as
Sumyung hobbled his way out. They had no budget for stretchers yet... must
make that a priority for next week.
His partner gave the ninja a hearty pat on the back, causing him to turn
pale in agony. "Don't you to be worrying, Satoshi dude!" Long laughed,
despite the sizeable bruise on his chin. "My homeys are waiting outside in
the six four! We roll him to a doctor, you dig."
"Your... ah, yes, right," Satoshi said, envisioning his body turning up
in Tokyo Bay on the five o'clock news. He flushed that image out and forced
himself to look calm until the gangsters were gone. Bad people gone.
Everything good again. Everything--
"Excuse me."
"Aaah! Ah, hello, yes?" Satoshi asked, turning around...
The young man was hard to see in the poor backstage lighting. For
starters, his hair was black by way of onyx and his school uniform was a deep
ebony by way of jet. If not for his pale skin, he'd blend into a shadow
perfectly...
Except for the sword. The crimson handle of the blade he wore at his
side was nice and dark, but it still had enough red to it to make people sit
up and take notice.
"I was wondering," he asked, voice even and calm even if Satoshi was a
ball of nerves today, "When my fight was scheduled."
"Your fight? Your fight! Ah, well..." Satoshi said, flipping hurriedly
through his notes. "You're--"
"Tenma."
"Right, Tenma. Er. I did have you up for the NeoWorld title, actually.
I understand you have a... NON-lethal sword style? Very interesting, I was
looking forward to seeing it. I figured you'd add a bit of spice to the main
event, but, er... there's been a change. I had to replace you with Yaga--"
"I don't care who you have me fight," he explained. "A change is fine."
"Yes, well, we've only got so much time tonight and I'm afraid the card
doesn't have enough room for your in-ring debut," Satoshi continued. "Sorry
about that."
"...so no fight, then," Tenma concluded. "Fine. Excuse me."
And the boy just walked away. That went well, Satoshi thought,
satisfied. All it takes is good manners and understanding of the situation
to make this night go well. Hopefully the other fighters would be as
cooperative!
Which brought him to the next fight, coincidentally...
"Dude-san!" Satoshi called out, glancing down at his notes. "The break
will be over soon. Have you found... 'Ayane Shibou' yet?"
Much to his surprise, the next mystery guest was busy working the deep
fryer at the concession stand. She turned to look at him, a little confused.
"Is someone looking for me? Sir?"
"Ayane Shibou?" Satoshi asked. "Is that you? What are you doing back
there?"
"The french fries," she explained, raising the greasy wire fat of slim
potato spikes. "Do you need something, sir?"
"Head out to the ring, it's almost time," Satoshi said. "I've got to go
find this other guy... excuse me. Hurry, please, we're almost back. Mmm.
So much to take care of tonight, I hope it all goes as smoothly as that nice
young man..."
Ayane blinked cluelessly. "Er... you want me to go to the ring? Why?"
Of course, the boss was out of earshot by then, calling out someone
else's name. Maybe they needed another hot dog vendor for the crowd? Ayane
thought. Or maybe the announcer's desk needed a hamburger. She set the
fries back in the fryer, tightened her apron a bit and wandered through the
curtain...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The fan sitting directly behind Akari stared at a cherry stem she was
holding up, utterly mystified at the knot currently tied in it.
"It's all in the technique, you see," Akari was explaining while the red
'ON AIR' light lit up on the camera in front of her. "Takes years of
practice, but I got a lot of training at summer camp-- oh! Hey, we're back!
Welcome, fans of televised violence, welcome back to NeoFighters! You just
saw what could marginally pass for a NeoTag Championship match, and now it's
time for the NeoJapan Championship!... well, there's a fashion statement for
you. Macy's by way of McDonalds?"
Ayane stood in the ring, looking increasingly confused by the moment.
The crowd was cheering, since they wanted to see a match, but there wasn't
anybody asking for food. Here she was with a vendor's tray of hot dogs, and
no customers? She walked over to the left side of the ring, to talk to the
announcer.
"Hey, did anybody order a hot wiener?" she asked, popping one out of her
tray and squirting some mustard on it. "Anyone? I'm out here for a reason,
right?"
"Not the kind of hot wiener I usually enjoy," Akari joked. "Neat
gimmick, kid!"
"Pardon?"
"Ladies and gentlemen, introducing Ayane Shibou, master of... of..." she
stalled, studying her notes. "Fast food? That's a martial art? I swear,
kids these days can turn anything into a crippling deathforce..."
"I'm not a martial artist, I'm here to cook," Ayane explained. "Do you
know why the boss wanted me in the ring?"
"Probably because you're fighting tonight for the NeoJapan title."
"Oh, okay. WHAT?!"
"ANNND introducing her opponent..." Akari yelled out, gesturing with
dramatic flair to the entrance ramp. "Angus McAngus, expert in Scottish
Caber Tossing! ...excuse me while I laugh myself silly."
Ayane whirled around in alarm, to see three hundred pounds of muscle in
a kilt coming at her, carrying a twenty foot long two foot thick wooden log
while screaming like a crazed Canon the Barbarian reject.
][ NEOJAPAN TITLE MATCH
][ AYANE SHIBOU vs. ANGUS McANGUS
][ FIGHT!!
Let's pause here a moment.
Now, there's a distinct difference between being an observer and a
participant of a crazy show like Ultra. Those who sit back and watch the
mayhem every week could see some large guy hauling around a tree and go,
"Heh, that's pretty funny looking!". Then you'd chug a soda and ask your
friends to pass the chips.
Those who are standing in the ring while such a person is rushing at
them with intent to do bodily harm is not going to be able to cope with
matters that easily.
Even putting aside the danger aspect, there's something about a caber
toss type person wanting to kill you that melts down the brain. It's like
driving along on your morning commute to work, listening to the same music on
the morning radio show that they always play and taking the third left you
always take and then crashing head first into a truck full of clowns.
It's just too much weirdness to take at once, especially for Ayane
Shibou, who had until this point led a very ordinary life. Any plans to
continue living that safe, ordinary life got defenstrated at that moment,
never to return. It's a bit like losing your virginity, only not.
This is why when Angus McAngus jumped clear over the top rope, twirling
the log over his head and getting ready to whack Ayane to Hokkaido, she
locked up completely. Fortunately this meant her muscles tightened, which
meant the grip on her mustard bottle tightened, which meant that the yellow
creamy spicy goodness squirted directly in her opponent's eyes.
The tree fell in the NeoDome, and yes, it did make a sound.
Ayane got motor control back a moment later, enough to realize she was
in the middle of a fight in Ultra and her opponent, while he was screaming
and clawing at his eyes due to imitation stinging Cajun peppers, would
probably be after her to break her neck any moment now. Discretion being the
better part of valor, she bailed, running for the ropes to get away...
A red flash distracted her.
Stupid people look back. Smart people head for the hills and don't stop
to look around until they're at least ten miles away. Ayane looked back.
There was a fight going on, and she wasn't involved. Some boy her age
was busy carving up Angus with a sword, with blood flying... no, wait. Angus
wasn't getting cut at all; but the sword blade ITSELF seemed to be made of
blood, the liquid flowing and barely keeping a sword-like shape as it slashed
'through' the Scotsman over and over...
"Whoa!" Akari called out, shocked. "We've got someone messing with the
fight! There's a smooth looking bishounen going ballistic on Angus McAngus
with... well, I guess that's a sword. The referee's calling for the bell to
throw the match out, and this one ends with no title winner! Hey, it's free
TV, what are you expecting? Decisive finishes?"
Despite having no bruises, no cuts, or no other injuries, Angus fell
down hard next to his tree and did in fact make a sound as well. Satisfied,
the boy sheathed his blade... glancing a moment to Ayane with an
expressionless face, before climbing through the ropes and just walking away.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Satoshi was a red hot ball of RAGE. No winner! No title holder
crowned! The show was sinking faster than the Titanic, and it was all that
polite young man's fault! As Tenma walked calmly through the curtain to the
backstage area, Satoshi was there to get all up in his area and throw down
and chew his ass out!
"Erm, excuse me..." Satoshi raged on in a quiet voice.
Tenma paused in his walk, to cast a look over his shoulder at the boss.
"Next week, you'd better have a fight for me," he warned. "If not, I'll
find my own battle, just as I did tonight. I came here to do battle, not to
sit around. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yessir. Yes. Very clear. Ah. Have a nice evening!" Satoshi smiled,
waving nicely as all his iron-hard anger whimpered and ran off somewhere to
cry.
The young chef was next on the hit parade of problems for him to deal
with, as she ran in from the ringside area, breathing hard. "S-Sir!" she
greeted first, bowing; employees always show respect to the boss. (Which
made him feel slightly uncomfortable, since he was still getting used to
being the boss of anything.) "...what's going on here? I'm not a fighter!"
"You're not?" Satoshi asked. "But your application said you practiced
Fast Food..."
"Yes! As in, I cook it and serve it! I thought I was applying to work
a concession stand!" Ayane explained. "I don't know how to fight! You've
got to take me off the roster!"
"Oh... oh dear. Um. But you were hired as a fighter, I don't know if
Ultra will pay you if you're not on the fighter's roster..."
"But I'll get killed out there!" Ayane protested. "Sir, please!"
Satoshi sighed. What was he going to do, demand an untrained girl go
out and fight people? She was a lot like he was... a salary and wage sort of
jobber, not a sports entertainment sort of jobber. This decision was easy to
make, since it had already made itself for him.
"It's okay, Ayane-san," he insisted. "Don't worry about it. I'll just
mark this down in my notes and I'll get back to you next week about it...
Work the concession stand for the remainder of the evening, and hopefully
next week I can assign you there permanently. If not... I'll just not book
you for any matches and you can keep drawing a fighter's pay. Hopefully
Nabiki won't find out."
"Thank you thank you thank you thank you!" Ayane thanked profusely,
bowing low enough to almost fall over.
"Ah... err... welcome?" Satoshi returned, that 'I'm the boss?'
awkwardness kicking in again... until he remembered what he had to take care
of now. THAT put the supplicant-ness back in his limp spine. "If you'll
excuse me, I need to go tell Yaga-san his match is up. Return to the
concession stand, please--"
"One step ahead of you, boss!" Ayane called from the miniature greasy
spoon. She waved to him as he lurked off, then checked the fryer...
There was a nasty smelling wad of yellow potato-ish glop there now. A
whole batch of fries, ruined! Feeling a pang of sadness, she dumped them in
the trash, and broke out a fresh bag from the freezer.
She jumped in surprise when closing the freezer door revealed a young
boy leaning over the counter, with a big grin on his face.
"Hey, I saw your fight," he said. "You did a great job! And can I have
a cup of tea, please?"
"Coming right up!" Ayane announced, turning to simultaneously dump the
fries into the grease and grab the kettle. "But I wasn't really fighting out
there."
"You weren't?" he asked, disappointed. "But the thing with the mustard,
that was genius! I mean, if I was going to build a fighting style out of
food usage, that'd be up there on my list. Hits the enemy's blind side! So
to speak..."
Ayane laughed, as she poured the tea. "Come on! How could 'Food Fu' be
a real fighting style?... hey, are you a fighter?"
"What clued you in?"
"You look like an extra in a martial arts movie," Ayane said, eyeing his
braided pigtail and shiny blue baggy Chinese clothes and Kung Fu Slippers.
"Just an extra?" he asked, even more disappointed. "I'd hope I looked
like a martial arts hero... oh! My manners. My name is Li Ping. And yes, I
think 'Food Fu' could work. I mean, anything can be a fighting form. I've
seen people win fights with stranger things than that! You just have to be
determined to make it work, and be dedicated to developing your own style...
I think you could do it, if you really tried."
"You're serious?" she asked, peering at him curiously.
"You're dedicated to your cooking, right?" he asked. "It's no
different... oh, my tea's going cold! One second."
He paused, to down his tea in one gulp, shotglass style.
A very odd boy, Ayane thought. He didn't look Chinese. Or Japanese,
for that matter. American, maybe? (He spoke the local language fluidly,
even if it seemed his lips didn't quite sync up right...)
"I've gotta go get ready, if you'll excuse me," he said, stepping back
to bow slightly. "Thank you for the excellent tea, Ayane-san! I will return
for more after I am crowned champion of NeoFighters! HOAH!"
For no real reason whatsover, he jumped into the air and scaled the
NeoTron's riggings instead of using the nearby curtain to get to the ring.
One of those big beads of sweat made its journey down the back of
Ayane's head. VERY odd boy. But kind of sweet, too. She smiled absently,
at least until she sniffed the air and realized she'd melted the fries again.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
A woman in black burst out of the Kenji dressing room, a whirling white
hot ball of annoyance and displeasure.
"Oneechan, wait!" Keiko protested, bouncing after her. "Listen, okay,
maybe the fight didn't go that well but I promise I can work more as team
next week--"
Kisei whirled on her. "You don't GET it, do you?" she snarled.
"There's not gonna BE a next week! You may have signed my name to a binding
contract, but that doesn't mean I have to work with you. Forget it! There's
no way we can get along. You're too much of a bubblebrained ninja ditz!"
Her sister turned red. "Yeah, well... well... you're just getting all
defensive and dressing weird because you're... you're..."
"Can't you even come up with a SINGLE good insult?" Kisei demanded.
"Come on, do it! Spit it out! Try me!"
"...you're just lashing out because you don't like mom controlling your
destiny, that's what!" Keiko finished. "Not because you believe in any of
that demonology and stuff, you just want to make her mad! You're just as
much of a fraud as you think I am!"
"...........," Kisei spoke, starting to glow the wrong sort of glow
again... before ramping that down, turning it off. She turned her back in
Keiko before speaking again. "...leave me alone, sis. Just leave me alone.
I'm leaving."
Keiko advanced, to catch her. "But SIS--"
A dark figure blocked her path. Keiko momentarily ignored it, trying to
step around -- and found her way barred each time.
"Just let it go," the boy with the sword recommended, in a quiet,
sincere voice. "She wants to be left alone. Some people need to be alone
sometimes."
"Out of my way!" Keiko demanded, shoving past him finally... just in
time to see a door with a glowing red 'EXIT' sign click shut. Kisei was
gone.
When she turned around to address the mystery man, he was gone as well.
The only hint that he'd ever been there came in the form of a few drops of
blood on the floor.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
"We're back, and we're ready for what hopefully won't be another
colossal waste of time!" Akari cheerfully announced. "This is it, folks!
The main event! It's all on the line for the NeoWorld title, the most
prestigious one because I say so and who are you to deny my beauty, peon?
Making his way to the ring, our first competitor... LI PING! And boy, is
he!"
Scaling the NeoTron like a cat, Li posed briefly on top of the steel
framework, waiting for the spotlight to find him... but once he did, he was
swinging down the bars surrounding the video screen, landing on two feet like
a cat as well. (Even though cats land on four feet, typically.) He kept
this up, shadowboxing and warming up as he made his way to the ring...
scaling one turnbuckle, and executing a perfect twisting moonsault into the
ring.
"Someone needs to cut down on the sugar," Akari commented. "Looks like
he swiped a mike off one of our techies en route... ah, hell, why not? Let's
hear what he's got to say!"
"KONNICHI WA, SHINJUKU!!!" he shouted, loud enough to bust a speaker or
two and raise the night's budget up a notch in the process. Saying the name
of the area got a nice cheap pop from the crowd in appreciation. "My name is
Li Ping and I'm a martial artist!"
"Wasn't it obvious?" Akari mumbled.
"I just want to say... I'm VERY happy to be here!" he continued. "It's
always been my dream to compete professionally, and I hope to show you all a
great match tonight with my wild style, whoever my opponent may be!"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
As the boy prattled on, his opponent stood firm in the backstage area,
watching his prey on a monitor.
A child. They had HIM, The Great Yaga, facing a child! It was
ridiculous, and he had expressed this quite firmly to Satoshi-san when he
found out. This week, he would allow it. It wouldn't do to raise a scene
first week on the job. And besides... children were of no concern to him.
For years, The Great Yaga had reigned triumphant over all comers.
Whenever a rising young star threatened his place at the top of the heap...
Yaga simply handled matters. The young were naive, and didn't know how to
play the game of backstage politics. Compared to them, Yaga was a master
chessman, always knowing what pawns to sacrifice, and how the horsey thing
moves.
This 'Li Ping' character would suffer the same fate for thinking he was
better than The Great Yaga. All was fair in love and sports-entertainment,
after all.
Yaga turned to the young stage hand, and gave the command. "Do it."
"Uhh..." The Dude mumbled. "I dunno if Satoshi would dig this, man--"
"I have legal right to control my fights," Yaga reminded. "That means
all booking, stipulations, opponent selections and pre-and-post activities.
Do it, unless you want to be brought up on disciplinary action for violating
my contract."
The Dude sighed. "Okay, man. Whatever you say." He reached for the
switchboard.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Li Ping was nearly in tears. This was his shining moment! He spot in
the television sun, his chance to prove to the world he had a calling. The
audience sat enrapt... maybe he wasn't the best speaker, but they could sense
the heart there. The feeling behind his words.
"I promise you as an audience you will never see a Li Ping match at less
than one hundred percent!" he swore. "I'll give you everything I have, no
matter what the circumstances. This has always been my drea--"
SkREeeEEE. With a short shock of feedback, his microphone cut out
completely. His entrance music snipped out as well. He tried speaking a bit
more, but the words no longer echoed...
Instead, blaring music of a most macho nature filled the arena.
Fireworks shot off in white and red, the colors of the Japanese flag, as a
man of impressive stature and build posed on stage. He cupped his ear to the
crowd, all smiles and pride, waiting for a reaction.
He didn't get one.
"Who's the old guy?" Akari wondered aloud. "Lemme check my notes... The
Great Yaga? What's so great about him? Oh, great, he has a mike too..."
"Surely you fine sports-entertainment fans recognize The Great Yaga?"
Yaga spoke, in calm, patient tones. Don't enrage the fans. Don't play the
heel. Just suck up to them. "Well, The Great Yaga remembers the wonderful
people of Shinjuku! During my rise to superstardom I have wrestled in...
arenas close to this very arena, and I have always found Shinjuku folk to be
a polite and accommodating people! Thank you for having me here to entertain
you, and I promise to give you the finest match The Great Yaga is capable of
giving! Yes! Thank you!"
That worked. Sucking up always worked. There was a sizeable response,
perhaps not to The Great Yaga's liking, but it was early in his new tenure.
Soon, he thought proudly, they'd be cheering him loud enough to drown out a
Lear jet. He would be their hero, their paragon of virtue, trouncing evil
for truth, justice, and the Japanese way! He marched boldly to the ring, and
swung both legs over the top rope in a show of size... compared to the
diminutive kid he faced.
And such a naive child he was. Yaga smiled inwardly, as Li Ping
extended a hand to shake, smiling with that child's smile... this would be
easy as pie.
Yaga grasped Li Ping's hand, pumped once in a friendly handshake, then
pulled him directly into a short arm clothesline. Li's head smacked into
Yaga's outstretched arm like it was an iron bar, and the kid went down hard.
The bell rang, and the fight was on.
][ NEOWORLD TITLE MATCH
][ LI PING vs. THE GREAT YAGA
][ FIGHT!!
"And Yaga with the advantage from the start," Akari play-by-play'd.
"The youngster showing more guts than brains, falling for what's probably the
oldest trick in the book next to the oldest profession in the book, which
also coincidentally involves tricks..."
Li's head swam like a turtle in the Pacific Ocean. 'Come to think of
it,' he came to think, 'I've never actually BEEN in a fight, have I?' He'd
trained intensely and know a dozen ways to take down a guy, but had yet to
actually take a guy down. Here he was, lying on his back, realizing: hey, it
HURTS when you get hit.
Woozily, he stood back up, and tried to focus on the fight -- a focus
which wasn't going to be easy to win, as Yaga swooped in for the kill before
he had a chance to get his bearings. He found himself grabbed by Yaga's
ridiculously tight grip and neatly snap-suplexed, slamming down hard on his
back once more.
Smirking defiantly, The Great Yaga placed one boot on Li Ping's chest,
muscleman-posed, and waited for the three count and his pinfall victory. Yet
another title belt to strap around The Great Yaga's mighty waist!
The referee swallowed hard, briefly wondering if Yaga had gone senile.
"Uh, Yaga-san, this isn't wrestling. There's no pins, you have to keep him
down and out for ten seconds before I give you the win by knockout."
"Don't you think I knew that!?" Yaga barked, stepping off Li to confront
the ref. "The Great Yaga is not stupid! What's your name? I can have you
fired for this insolence!"
"Hey, ojisan!"
A vein pulsed in Yaga's forehead visibly at that word. He turned
slowly, looking at his opponent.. who was leaning heavily on the ropes and
breathing hard, but wasn't down. Not by a long shot.
Li Ping grinned, seemingly delighted at his predicament. "You're pretty
good for your age, ojisan!" he complimented. "This is great experience for
me. Thanks! But now, now is the time for Li Ping's wild style to take
hold!"
"Kid..." Yaga warned. "Do NOT call me oji--"
The Great Yaga may have had rice earlier, but now he was eating a
hearty, chunky can of whoopass. First it was the flying kick, then a
combination series of punches; he backed off fast, not used to punches that
weren't pulled, and backed himself into a corner of the ring.
Li didn't follow up, as he changed his fighting stance, getting ready
for his next move. "Behold, the thirty seven forms of the Shaolin! Stance
of eagle! Praying mantis! Great dragon! Tiger! Lion! Zebra!..."
An uneasy silence hung over the ring, punctuated by Yaga's winded (and
highly irritated) breathing.
"What fighting stance could 'Zebra' POSSIBLY be, kid?!" he shouted.
"Uh... er... I think I'm getting a little too excited, there isn't any
zebra stance," Li Ping said, scratching his head. "Ha ha! Kind of silly,
isn't--"
Three hundred pounds of muscle snapped in a solid punch to Li Ping's
head. Yaga was pissed now, and wasn't going for technical holds or wrestling
grapples; he was beating the tar out of this brat, plain and simple. From
the corner he was backed into, he pressed on, backing Li Ping into the
opposite corner... the kid had piss-poor defense. Had he even BEEN in a
fight before? Yaga wondered. He reared back, ready for the Roaring Elbow, to
finish this ridiculous excuse of a match once and for all...
Twisting his body around, focusing all his chi into that elbow, Yaga
launched himself at... at the space where Li used to be. Li was twisting
through the air, the same jumping leap he'd executed to get into the ring
earlier, the same flashy twisting moonsault...
He landed on both feet, before taking leave of the mat again, to plant
both feet into Yaga's back. Yaga fell forward into the turnbuckle, hitting
it hard, while Li pressed the attack; he wasn't going to play around now, as
he connected strike after strike.
"Boy, this fight is hot and so am I!" Akari called, leaning forward to
get a better look. "Li's got this in the bag; the old geezer's winding down
after that onslaught! It's over, people! It's over!"
This is not happening, Yaga's brain told him. This is not happening.
This is not happening. This upstart is NOT going to win this fight...
And he's not going to do it with that jump kick. Yaga could see it
coming a mile away, almost as if Li was hanging in midair, frozen in time.
All he had to do was... was...
Wait a minute.
Li WAS hanging in midair, frozen in time.
"...what the hell are you doing?" Yaga asked, curiosity getting the
better of himself.
"It's called 'Bullet Time'!" Li replied. "My greatest technique! It
took months to master. I pose in the air dramatically while time stops and
the camera moves around, and then when I kick it's like ten times stronger!"
"Nobody's frozen except you," Yaga helpfully pointed out.
"..." Li realized.
One Roaring Elbow later and it was over. The blurring strike landed
perfectly on Li's ribs as he hung helplessly in the air, knocking him
completely across the ring, headfirst into the far turnbuckle. He slumped to
the mat, out cold.
"Well, damn," Akari complained. "Ladies and gentlemen, your winner and
new NeoWorld Champion, The Great Yaga!"
Yaga snatched the golden belt away from the referee hard enough to
scrape the man's hands. He flipped it in the air, posing at a turnbuckle,
and cupping an ear to the crowd for a reaction...
At least there was one this time. A lukewarm reaction, granted, but a
reaction nevertheless. Smile, always smile. Trash dressing room later over
the ungrateful bastards not giving you your due, but always smile on camera.
He WAS the hero of this show, after all.
Yaga was marching out with his new trophy just as a young girl in a
chef's apron was hurredly running in. She climbed into the ring, ignoring
the cameras, and shook Li gently...
"...whrr?" Li whrred. "What? Oh, Ayane-san. Hello.. uh. Did I win?"
Ayane helped him to his feet... as the crowd applauded lightly, glad to
see he was okay. "No, you didn't. Gomen nasai. I saw it all on the
monitors..."
"You did? Great!" Li said, holding his throbbing head. "Was I good?
Did I show everybody my wild style?"
"...yeah, you were, Li. Really good," she complimented. "Satoshi-san
said there's no medical staff tonight, so I volunteered to help you. Let's
get you back to the kitchen. I've got some ice in the freezer you can use
for your head."
"I was really good," he repeated, as he was helped backstage. "That's
what matters to me. As for the title... there's always next week."
Tossing another empty beer can over her shoulder, Akari grinned a bit
tipsy-like to the camera. "Well, that about wraps it up for NeoFighters!
Hey, at least you guys got ONE good match. I'm Akari, I'm feelin' DAMN fine
right now, and this has been an Ultra production! Remember to watch us, same
time next week, so I still have a job! Byeeeee!"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
After all the dust had settled, after all the fighters had gone home,
after all was said and done... it was three in the morning, and Satoshi was
going to pass out.
But not, he thought, until I hear the bad news. He waited patiently,
while The Dude (who had no problems whatsoever with the late hour) clicked at
the laptop computer, putting in the password Nabiki had issued him to the TV
Tokyo website...
"Okay, we're in," Dude said. "Preliminary reports say... NeoFighters
episode one had... a 0.2 rating. That's all."
"Point two," Satoshi repeated. It beared repeating. "Well. It's not
exactly a 1.0, but it's better than a 0.1, right? Right. I've... I've gotta
think about this. We have a week until the next show, and I know we can do
better. Much better. We HAVE to do better. We're doomed. I'm going to
have to go crawling on my hands and knees back to the cable company and beg
for my lousy desk job, aren't I?"
The Dude leaned back, to regard his boss through his tea shades. "Man.
You are like this big walking ball of stress, aren't you, boss? All night
long you've been freaking out."
"You mean to tell me you wouldn't be freaking out in my shoes, Dude-
san?"
"Oh, hell no!" Dude laughed. "Okay, so we pulled a dinky rating.
That's no problem. It can be dealt with, dude. S'cool."
"How, exactly, can it be cool?" Satoshi asked.
"I was hopin' you'd ask, boss. See, I know these guys..."
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The Great Yaga felt a little odd, carrying a huge golden belt over his
shoulder as he rode the late night subway to his apartment. People looked at
him oddly, but he always looked back with a nice smile, a champion's smile.
He WAS a champion. Once again, Yaga was on top of the heap, in the
spotlight, the number one hero of Japan. True, it was on a pissant little
show like NeoFighters, but soon enough Ultra itself would recognize his
potential and bring him into the mainstream. This silly belt was only a
stepping stone. He was The Great Yaga. He was SUPREME.
...he was a tired old man in a small apartment he'd barely been able to
afford living off guest appearances banking on his old fame. It hit him the
moment he slid his key into the latch.
But the weight of that gold, that put him back in the right frame of
mind. One week until he had his chance to defend this, to prove to the world
he was truly great. He could be an ordinary guy until then. He could live
for next Wednesday night.
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For some reason, summoning the powers of darkness was incredibly calming
for Kisei Kenji. There was something about holding the eternal night of sin
in the palm of her hand and controlling it with an iron fist that made her
feel like everything was right in the world, that she was at the helm of her
life. She was in charge of herself.
She had a nice abandoned house to crash in for the nights when things
got especially bad in the Kenji house... or when practicing her arcane arts
would offend her mother. Here she could have any ritual ceremony she wanted.
Tonight, she'd summon a lesser demon and unsummon it before having a beer
(which she got an older guy to buy for her earlier that week) and going to
bed while watching bad TV reruns.
As she set up the spell components, her mind drifted. She'd barely
managed to escape her sisters scrutiny; someone had interfered and gave her
that route of evasion. Some guy. She got a look at his face, but just
briefly... some guy who had the same fashion sense as her. He was there for
the show, right? One of the fighters. Kisei had gotten a few glimpses of
him in action on the dressing room monitor while arguing with her sister, of
a crimson blade that moved like a liquid--
The pentagram she'd carefully scratched into the floorboards flared with
bright red light. She quickly focused her thoughts; stray thoughts could
wreck the ritual...
But the moment she focused, the light died off. Weird. She tried again
and again, but the ritual wasn't working... not that it ever worked right.
Best she'd ever managed to summon was a small blue imp who spoke bad high
school French.
Best to give up, she thought. She turned away, and headed for the
fridge she'd saved from a junkyard, to get her drink, to watch her shows, and
get to bed.
That's why she didn't notice the faint lines of blood that had filled
the scratches of the pentagram in the floor. It was dried black by morning,
and she missed it then as well, thinking nothing more of the botched spell
again.
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][ NEOFIGHTERS #1 RESULTS/RECAP
* LONG DONG WANG / SUMYUNG GAI defeated KEIKO / KISEI by countout
and become the NEOTAG CHAMPIONS, now at 1W/0L
* The NEOJAPAN bout between AYANE SHIBOU and ANGUS McANGUS was
thrown out, no championship awarded
* THE GREAT YAGA defeated LI PING and became the NEOWORLD CHAMPION,
now at 1W/0L