Long delayed, but here it is! Check website for past episodes.
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the new generation of
anime sports-entertainment
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| | \|E O | I G H T E R S |
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an Ultra production
http://www.mtcffultra.com/
Episode #3: True Romance
booked by stefan gagne
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Kisei awoke to find herself dreaming.
If she wasn't dreaming, then life had just gotten astoundingly weird.
There would have to be a logical reason why life was in black and white, for
instance. Why she was in a luxurious bedroom with high ceilings, wearing a
slinky black number that was halfway between beauty and consumption, while
romantic violin music filled the air...
Of course, this wasn't the sort of dream she usually had. Her dreams
usually involved demons and incoherent yammerings from the edge of reality
and loud rock music and looked like they were edited by Wes Craven. (And her
nightmares usually involved cheerful day-glow suburbs and the Backstreet
Boys.) If she was dreaming this, then the ritual knocked her sillier than
previously--
Ritual?
Kisei swung her legs out of bed, and got to her feet... wobbling a
moment in the high heels she found herself in. Ritual. She had pulled on
the fishing line, to haul in the big demon she'd found. Something to make
the bastard pay for humiliating her. The arrogant, crazy jerk who took
everything she could give and still came up smiling, hurting--
A shadow flitted across the large bay windows to the balcony: a man,
playing the violin. Kisei's instinctive curiosity won out over common sense
as she hobbled her way over, threw open the windows and stepped onto the
moonlit overlook...
The man paused in his musical stylings, to look at her. He was hard to
see in the poor lighting... except for his eyes, and his teeth. They seemed
brighter than they technically should have been...
"Pleased to meet you, Kisei," the man said, playing a quick series of
chords. "Hope you guess my name. I'm the demon you summoned, and I have
many thanks to shower upon you for freeing me."
"I'm dreaming, right?" she asked. "This is just a dream. I like to be
on top of things, so if you could fill me in...?"
"Oh, it's a dream," he said, setting down the violin in midair. "A
dream unlike any other you've had. I trust it's to your liking? It's not
overdone, is it? It thought maybe the gauzy drapes and the moon were a bit
much, but--"
"I could do without this Elvira, Mistress of the Dark costume," she
said... adjusting her appearance, to her more ordinary modest black dress and
a heavy pair of Doc Martens. "That's better. The rest is fine. So, you're
a demon? You don't look like a demon."
"Would you prefer bat wings?" the man asked, hopping up to sit on the
railing overlooking a one million foot drop. "Phallic tentacles? Big claws?
Name it, I'll do it. I'd hate not to live up to your expectations, I'd feel
so disappointed. I could even toss in an echoing voice and a few Thees and
Thous--"
"I get the picture. So what are you doing in my dream, Mr. Demon?"
"The answer to that is another puzzle," the demon replied, holding up
his hand to pause her line of questioning. "Do you know where you are? In
the real world, of course. The mortal plane."
"I got knocked out when you came," Kisei remembered vaguely. "Thanks a
lot, pal. Could've picked a safer entrance method. So, I'm guessing someone
hauled me back to my dressing room and my 'dear' sister is watching over me
like a worried hawk."
A game show buzzer sounded from nowhere, as the demon shook his head
sadly. "Quite incorrect. Actually, you've been kidnapped by my former
colleague... the one you know as Tenma. Do you want to see? Here, take a
look..."
The man slowly turned his hand, as if he was a game show host pointing
to a luxurious prize. Kisei followed his fingers with her eyes, to a
floating mirror... looking at herself in the mirror.
Usually when you look in a mirror, you see a mirror image of yourself.
You don't see an image of yourself lying on the floor with a ward on your
forehead, throbbing with a red-black aura and looking extremely unhealthy.
"What the...?" Kisei started, shocked at the sight.
"He's sealed you," the demon explained. "Trapped you inside your body.
Trapped you and I. It's 'for your own protection', of course, since I'm
currently sharing your body -- don't worry, I plan to exit as soon as
possible... but the seal is stopping me. You'll be in this dreamlike
comatose state until he decides to either kill you to kill me, or seal us
both up forever. Quite the little bastard, isn't he?"
"Oh, I'm starting to SERIOUSLY dislike the guy," Kisei scowled. "So I'm
just lying helpless somewhere in the real world? That punk has been putting
his hands on me?!"
"Intolerable, yes?" the demon asked, crooking the violin under his neck
and beginning a slow, melancholy song. "A very embarrassing defeat. He took
full control of your little battle and showed no mercy, and now you're in the
clutches of a force you feel you cannot stop. You're upset. It's
understandable, it's okay, Kisei Kenji. I understand that pain. It's a
violation, isn't it? I've suffered it for three years now, as he banished me
to limbo... how would you like to show him YOU are the one in control now?"
"Does the Pope pee in the Vatican?" Kisei asked... cracking her
knuckles. "NOBODY does this to me. Nobody."
The violin took a lilting, triumphant melody. "Very well! We will work
together and escape our prisons. You have summoned me; my power is yours to
share. I keep always my word and my contract. My strength and yours
together should be enough to do the deed... and then the REAL fun can start.
Now, listen carefully, and follow my instructions to the letter... although I
warn, it won't be pleasant."
"Unpleasantness? My LIFE is unpleasantness. I can handle anything.
You ever see Manos, the Hands of Fate?"
"Can't say I have. Is it an opera?"
"...no. So what do I do?"
"First, concentrate on your image in the mirror," the demon ordered.
"Then, raise your physical arm to your forehead..."
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The battle crossed entire city blocks without disturbing a soul. One of
the advantages of being part-demon and as well as being a trained kunoichi is
the ability to bounce from rooftop to rooftop like a superball, and both
Tenma and Keiko were in full elasticity mode. Tenma had the advantage in
that his breasts weren't in constant danger of knocking himself out, however.
Tenma twisted his blood-blade to parry the twin sai Keiko slashed out at
him with. "Stop fighting me!" he commanded. "I'm on your side here!"
"You're a demon, and I'm a demon hunter!" Keiko declared, kicking him
backwards, getting some distance between the two on top of a Starbucks Coffee
House. "You've kidnapped my dear big sister and I DEMAND to know where she
is!"
"If you'd let me talk without attacking me, I could EXPLAIN that I came
to bring you to her," Tenma scowled. "Hmph. Girls."
"What was that?!"
"If you'd think with your brains for a change, you guys wouldn't be
getting into this sort of mess," Tenma chauvinized. "Your sister wouldn't be
consorting with one of the darkest forces this planet has ever seen, for
starters! Now do you want to go see her, or do you want to keep fighting?"
"Where... is... she?" Keiko asked, trying to put it in simple words.
"She's at her condemned squatter's home," Tenma said, lowering his
sword. "I brought her there for an exorcis--"
He doubled over in pain when he found a Ninja Knee embedded in his gut.
"THAT'S for the crack about women!" Keiko warned. She flipped in the
air, bounding off the edge of the roof to head in the direction of Kisei's
run-down home away from home. "YOSH! Keiko away!"
"You.. you don't know what you're dealing with!" Tenma shouted after
her, taking up the chase even if it was hopeless to catch her in time. He
had to try to warn her from doing something stupid when she finally found
Kisei... "Whatever you do, don't touch her!"
Keiko didn't touch her. Mostly because she was no longer there.
The spot on the floor where Tenma had left her was bare... save for a
puddle of dead, vomited-up blood and a torn paper ward. It smelled like acid
and decay, as the fluid soaked into the boards. Ignoring Keiko's queasy gray
face, he knelt down and dipped a finger in the puddle. Better safe than
sorry.
"Must've burned out this amount of his blood trying to escape," he said
absently. "It's almost black. He's weak now. If only I could find him,
maybe I could stop him--"
Pretty strong for a woman, he thought, as Keiko lifted him in the air by
his neck.
"STOP WHO?!" she yelled. "What have you done to my sister?!"
"It wasn't me!" Tenma protested... tempted to use his sword, but not
wanting to aggravate an already tense situation. "It was the demon who made
me what I am! He's got your sister, and if we don't find him... I've got no
idea what he'll do, he's so damn unpredictable... let go already! I said I'm
on your side. I'm the one who sealed him away in the first place!"
"You sealed him?" Keiko asked, setting Tenma down.
"Yes, I did. Years ago. MAYBE I can reseal him, if we act fast," Tenma
said. "Only I know how to do it, but I need your help finding him first.
Your mother's of the Kenji demon hunter bloodline, right? Maybe she could
help in the search?"
"Umm... well, yeah... but she'd probably try to kill you," Keiko said,
realizing that. "She's pretty old school. Only good demon is a dead
demon..."
"We'll do it ourselves, then," Tenma said, twirling his blade back into
its sheath, uncomfortable with having it exposed to the air this long. It
was a mess to get the dust out of it after a fight. "I know you don't trust
me, but I'm your best chance at getting your sister back, and you're my best
chance at defeating him once and for all. Come on. I'll tell you all about
him while we look."
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The midmorning sun shone through the horizontal slats of the Jameson
apartment window blinds. Birdsong did not fill the air (this was Tokyo,
after all; more likely you'd get the sounds of the local train running by)
but that didn't matter. The birds were singing on the inside for Long Dong
Wang.
He awoke in bed alone, quite lazily... stretching out his arms for a few
minutes, unkinking his muscles after what was possibly the best night of
mature relations he'd ever had. They tumbled. They rolled. They got it on.
He was hard, he was virile, he was THE MAN. There was no way the hot young
filly would to be able to resist a second ride on the Nipponese Pleasure
Rocket now!
But first things first. He had one important duty, as a responsible
partner in a relationship. He had to get his cellular and brag to the guys
about the hot babe he landed.
Long got out of bed, looking for his pants... when Akari walked in,
completely dressed and looking like she was ready to leave. The gangster
grinned lecherously, and stepped over to-- do nothing, as she blocked him
with The Hand You're Expected To Talk To Because The Face Don't Wanna Hear
That.
"No time, I've gotta get shopping," Akari explained. "Cab fare's on the
night stand, get out. I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me, either, okay?
Thanks."
The words sank into Long Dong Wang's brain like a brick in (hardened)
cement. "Huh?" was his majestically smooth and sexy reply. "What, that is
to being it? No encore?"
"Yep, you got it," Akari said, slipping on her sunglasses. "I mean, I
THOUGHT about hanging around and waiting for you to wake up so I could serve
you a little breakfast in bed... then I decided you weren't really worth it.
You're sloppy, immature, and frankly... you're just not very LONG. It was a
fun romp for one night but I don't think it's going to work out in the long
run. But hey, no hard feelings, right? See you next Wednesday at work. Oh,
and if you're still here in ten minutes, my neighbor's calling the cops.
Bye!"
The door slammed on a very shocked male chauvinist pig. It took five
minutes for the concept of a girl ditching him like yesterday's garbage to
sink in. It took the other five minutes to hurry up and get his clothes on
and bail before he had to visit the precinct.
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In this venerable hall, warriors are trained. The limits of strength
are tested, the limits of a man's determination to succeed. It has seen
countless battles between skilled opponents. Its floors have been stained
with the blood, sweat and tears of generations who studied the way of the
fist. It was very important to move mother's step aerobics equipment out of
the way before training.
One of the above statements is true.
Ayane pushed the last of the big, clunky plastic steps to the wall,
breathing hard. Just the simple act of moving around exercise equipment was
taxing! How could she ever... but he had seemed so excited when she
suggested the idea, how could she deny him this?
"Yosh! Now we are ready!" Li Ping declared, hopping over on a pair of
crutches. "Welcome to the Li Ping Dojo of the Unrestricted Freestyle Self-
taught Martial Arts! I renamed it from the Li Ping Dojo of Movie Fu just for
you. In the proud tradition of the Budokan halls of Kyoto, the legendary
Hart Dungeon and the Tendo Dojo, here you will be trained in the art of 'food
fu'! "
"Ah.. thank you, Li," Ayane said, smiling. "Ne, is your foot okay? You
really should sit down more and rest it, or you might not be ready for next
week's show. You know what your doctor said--"
"Eh, I'm fine," Li said, thump-swinging his way over to a darkened
corner of the small basement. "Foot doesn't hurt a bit! Observe, as I stand
on two feeEEEEEEAAAGH!!"
"Li!" Ayane called, moving to help him -- but he had already started
hopping on one foot, supporting himself on the crutches after a split second
of agony.
"Fine, fine," Li said through gritted teeth. "I just need to train
harder so I can endure the Bullet Time attack's kickback. But today, we
train you! Are you prepared, Ayane Shibou?"
"Uh... hai, sensei!"
"Apron tightened?"
"Hai!"
"Twin spatulas ready?"
"Err, yes, but... can I really fight with spatulas? They're just these
flat metal things... and Li, I can't swing very hard. I'm not strong and I'm
not very big. Shouldn't I have something more dangerous, something more
forceful to compensate? Er. Rolling pin, maybe?"
"Anything can be a deadly weapon in the hands of a master fighter," Li
spoke sagely. "A katana, a club, a chair, a lava lamp, a Hoover wet-dry
vac... and even a small pair of spatulas. See, Ayane... it's not about your
weapons. It's not about how big you are or how strong you are. Look at
Yaga, for instance -- he's taller than me and stronger than me, and he puts a
lot of force behind his punches. But I can still shrug off his attacks, and
you know why? Because I'm like water."
"Water?"
"Water," Li repeated. "A martial artist must be formless. Shapeless...
like water. You pour water into a cup... it becomes the cup. You pour water
into a bottle and it becomes the bottle, you put it in a teapot and it
becomes the teapot. Now, water can flow... or it can CRASH. Be like water,
and you will succeed!"
Ayane stared openly. "...wow. Li, that's... cool!"
"Ahhh..." Li laughed, rubbing a hand behind his head. "Technically I
stole it word for word from an interview with Bruce Lee. But it's good
stuff! That's what I'm here today to teach you -- I'm going to teach you to
be like water. It's all a frame of mind. You've already taken out two guys
on sheer instinct! We need to teach you to slip into that mode where YOU do
not hit someone... it hits all by itself. Okay. Clear your mind."
"Got it," she said simply, holding her spatula at the ready. "Let's
go."
"I mean it, Ayane, clear your mind. Just stand there for a minute and
listen, and try to blank all thoughts except the sound of my voice," Li
spoke, lowering his volume a bit as he fingered in a pocket of his shirt for
something... "You need to stand between two opposites. Not tense, but
ready. Not thinking, but not dreaming. Your actions must be thoughtless,
relying on your body knowing what needs to be done. Martial arts... it's a
form of body expression. Express yourself through your motions and emotions.
Your emotional content is behind your actions, not a crystallized style, not
a cold strategy, but how you FEEL and what you want to happen have to merge.
Focus on that. Become clear like water..."
Ayane didn't nod; she was trying to keep still, to be like Li told her.
Not worrying about the fight but ready for it. Prepared to move but not
nervous in anticipation... and wondering what Li was planning, as she stood
still for a solid minute with him doing nothing but smiling at her. Was he
expecting something from her? A kick or a punch or--
A glint of silver across her vision, as the superball was deflected
perfectly by her left-hand spatula.
Ayane blinked a few times, before realizing she had in fact raised her
arm and twisted her elbow to deflect the tiny rubber ball Li had just thrown
at her. She had done it. Done it on the first try!
"I did it!" she said in shock. "Li, I did it! I deflected the attack
without even realizing! I can do this, I can DO this!"
"Yes!" Li cheered, pumping a fist in the air. "Okay! Ayane, you're now
ready for phase two!"
"Yeah! --phase two?"
Li whisked his crutch in the air, whipping a black tarp off... what
looked like a homemade catapult loaded with an egg carton of two dozen fine
Grade A's.
"Ayane! Behold, my Li Ping no Eggomatic Training Machine!" Li intoned,
flicking a lever with his crutch. The machine shuddered, and a fresh egg was
tipped into the catapult's thrower. "If you can deflect the eggs without
breaking them and getting yourself messy, you'll have perfected the way of
the intercepting fist! Or spatula. Get ready!"
Ayane's jaw dropped. "What?! Li, you can't be--"
SPLUT. Ayane yelped and tried to wave her spatulas to block, but
whatever focus she had was gone. Instead of being like water, she was like
an egg magnet. One minute later, she was goopy and vaguely yellow, as was
the wall behind her.
"...um," Li said, scratching his head. "Uh. Er. Okay... maybe you're
not ready for phase two just yet--"
Ayane stepped up to him, dripping yolk.
"Li? May I see your crutch, please?" she asked politely.
And so Li passed her the crutch and she bopped him one with it. The
enlightenment had begun.
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It was in the very same Starbucks Coffee House they were fighting on top
of roughly a week ago that the demon and the demon hunter admitted defeat.
Tenma stirred his black coffee slowly. The caffeine would run wild in
his system, but he needed that edge tonight. If what he thought was true was
true...
"I thought you said he'd be at his old hideouts," Keiko said. "You said
you knew how to track him down."
"Apparently he's learned a few tricks while he was gone," Tenma replied.
"He's always been unpredictable. His modus is mischief. We didn't find him
after one night... he probably fed in the meantime, and is back to full
strength. There's no hope of sealing him now without beating him down
first."
"What do we do now?" Keiko asked. "We've only got an hour until the
show... should we skip it and keep looking?"
"He'll be at the show."
"Eh?"
"Maybe he's unpredictable, but if there's one consistency, it's that he
likes to rub my face in my failures," Tenma said, sipping at the coffee. "He
knows we're both going to be there, and likely he'll want to flaunt his
escape now that he knows we know he's no longer vulnerable."
"If he'll be there, we're going to need some real firepower. Maybe I
should call Mom anyway? I've been hiding our hunting from her, claiming I
was busy training..."
"I don't feel like dying, Keiko. You know that'll happen if she gets
her hands on me. Old school, remember? I'm just glad she doesn't know
you're on that TV show, or I'd be hunted down already."
"...yeah," Keiko remembered. She sighed hopelessly. Mother just
wouldn't understand, in the same way SHE didn't understand that first night
seven days ago... this half-demon wasn't evil. Maybe he could be a big jerk
sometimes...
...by always sneering when she did something cute or feminine...
...by letting her pay the bills when they get food...
...by not holding open doors for her...
...and by sometimes jamming his sword into uncooperative people they
were trying to get information from. True, it didn't really hurt them in the
long run and he needed to feed each day through the sword's blood-powers, but
it was very impolite.
Tenma was a 'blood demon', loosely translated from the original vampiric
species of La Magra. Unlike pure vampires, he had to do battle to raise his
adrenaline before replenishing his energy through the blood of his
opponents... blood he siphoned in small amounts through his special sword, a
compromise between the violent needs of his body and his own sense of ethics.
That's why he had enlisted in Ultra, and why he had gone after the
NeoJapan belt... a champion would be challenged constantly, and would have
ample opportunity to feed in a legitimate, consensual way. It was a perfect
setup... until his life got derailed when his former master popped into our
world again.
She learned more about him during this week of close contact than
anybody else ever had. She learned about his past, his problems, and his
quirks... notably the little irritating things that kept infuriating her. His
attitude towards women needed some improvement, and his 'lone wolf' mindset
tended to make him clam up. But even if he was a total jerk, at least he was
just as determined to stop the forces of evil as she was! At least, this
specific force of evil. It made for an uneasy alliance, but it had held out
the whole week.
"Listen... mother has some heavy duty wards in her closet," Keiko
explained. "I could sneak up and put one on him to weaken him, and then you
can use your sealing ritual. Maybe that'd work."
"Possibly. It can't hurt to try. But if it doesn't work... he could
get mad. And then we're in trouble."
"He'd kill us?"
"No, he doesn't kill people," Tenma said. "He doesn't physically hurt
anyone. What he does is worse."
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Only minutes remained before showtime, as a sub-sub-subcompact car
putters its way into the staff parking lot next to the NeoDome. The engine
(previously manufactured for suburban grade lawnmowers) gave a weak sputter
before dying, and that's before the key was removed from the ignition.
The broken man stepped out of his car, and saw the fairly spotty
gathering of cars in the ticketholder's lot. This did not improve his mood,
as he wandered through the Staff Only door... pausing a moment, to try and
adjust his eyes from the brilliantly lit neon Shinjuku night to the dimly
lit, fairly grimy backstage area.
"..." Sichi Satoshi said, pupils dilating.
"Hey, boss!" The Dude waved from his usual tangle of sound board cables.
"Akari's out there warmin' up the crowd right now. You got the card?
Everybody's wondering who's booked..."
Sichi lurched over to the ops desk, and dropped a torn page from a
spiral notebook. "I did what I could," he said. "You'd think picking six
fighters would be easier, but given how things shift each night when people
demand matches... um. The opening bout, keep that... those two need to debut
before we really get going. Yaga called me up during the week demanding a
title defense now that Li's out on leave, and I didn't want to give him
anybody hard because I don't think I can take him yelling... that's fight
two. As for the main event... er. Have either of the Kenji sisters gotten
here yet?"
"Keiko's in their dressing room with Tenma, sir."
"WITH Tenma?" Satoshi-san asked... and shook his head. "Nevermind.
Just ask them what they'd like for the main event. Odds are one or both of
them want a piece of somebody after the mess last week. ...Dude-san?"
The Dude folded up the booking sheet to stuff in one of his many
pockets, next to his takeout Chinese food menu and his personal copy of
DeCSS. "Yah, boss?"
"Can you handle the show for the night?" Satoshi asked. "I haven't had
a moment's peace in days and I really, really need the downtime... I'll be in
my office with the aspirin. And maybe a soda. I could go for one."
"Ayane's taking the night off, so we've got some new guy on the
concession stand--"
"Soda's soda," Satoshi stated. "Anyway... the show is yours. But call
me if something goes wrong."
"I'm really gonna run the show?" the Dude asked, feeling his internal
awesomeness rising to a bodacious intensity in ten cities.
There could be but one word for this most radical development:
"Whoa."
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With a flick of the wrist, Akari knew what time it was. She still had a
minute or two; plenty of time to get the party started.
"Okay, let's practice a bit!" she encouraged. "Just like I told you.
Everybody, one, two, three--"
"N-E-O! N-E-O!" the crowd chanted.
"Bingo!" Akari grinned, bouncing madly (providing the male portion of
the crowd and select female portions of the crowd with a special gift).
"Now, whenever you guys totally dig what you're seeing, just chant that!
NeoFighters uber alles! Remember, spread the good word about the show if you
want it to stay on the air, and your fanatical loyalty to the new world order
will be rewarded when the Tendo Regime's backs are to the wall on the eve of
revolution! Or we might just discount the t-shirts a bit."
"N-E-O! N-E-O! N-E-O!"
She fetched the pile of whiteboards from the corner, as well as a sack
of markers. "Second order of business... SIGNS! I'm looking out in the
crowd and I'm not seeing a whole lot of them. Shame on you! You call
yourselves Ultra fans?! You make Akari a very sad announcer! But that's
okay, because the girl scouts taught me to be prepared. And to make
brownies. That means I'll be distributing these blank signs for your use,
and if you're REALLY nice, next week I'll distribute brownies! Write
anything you want on them! Heck, write something obscene and see if the
cameras accidentally catch it! It's midnight, what censors are gonna be up
this late? They're all busy browsing Reader's Digest or something!"
Passing the pile of signs and markers off to a stage hand, a second
flick of the wrist confirmed it was game time.
"Okay, seconds to go before you get your weekly dose of legalized
beatings!" Akari announced. "I'll be moving to my desk now, but I'll be sure
to bend over real far while climbing between the ropes. Let's get ready to
RUMMMMMBLLEE!! And since I said that when the cameras weren't on Michael
Buffer can't sue me! HA!"
Click. BOOM.
Click of the camera's 'ON AIR' light glowing red. Boom of the fireworks
launching out of the stage, wild imagery flying across the huge video wall,
and yet another official Ultra kickoff.
Unlike the last two weeks, the NeoDome actually was rocking with cheers
and screams of the fans. Word was spreading, and 'regulars' were starting to
pop up in the crowd... regulars who told three friends, who then told three
friends and so on until you had a sizeable cluster of humanity under one
roof. In true Ultra fashion, they yelled themselves hoarse at the show's
opening. Maybe it wasn't like a 747 taking off from La Guardia, but it was
at LEAST a DC-9.
"Helllllooooo, and welcome to NEOFIGHTERS!" Akari introduced, quickly
putting on her headset and waving to the camera. "The only place where you
can see me and my two best friends! And speaking of twos, two is right
before three with three being the number of weeks we've been on the air, and
two times three equals six which is the number of people ready to KICK SOME
ASS tonight! We've got a pair of curtain jerkers to entertain you first,
before the NeoWorld Championship Title is defended by The Great Yaga! Yeah,
I know, I'm barely containing my excitement at that one too. But at least
we've got a big fat mystery match for the main event! And now, the first
match. Introducing..."
The music kicked in, the laser show began, and it was time to rock.
Nobody walked out.
"Any minute now," Akari said impatiently, tapping a finger on her desk.
'Just confirming the distance for this guy, hold on,' the Dude echoed
over her headset. 'Okay, go ahead.'
"Got it. Okay! Introducing your first competitor... hailing from
ancient China but residing in a Florida retirement home until just
recently... Jigen Kobiru!"
The white-bearded fighter in traditional baggy chinese fightin' clothes
that could have been pulled out of Li Ping's closet walked out to the cheers
of the crowd... as he tapped a cane in front of him, sweeping left to right.
Akari could hear him mumbling numbers under his breath, as he counted the
feet he had to walk from the curtain to the stage. His jet black sunglasses,
while quite cool in a Matrix sort of way, confirmed Akari's suspicions.
"A blind guy?" she asked. "We've got a blind guy fighting tonight? Oh,
man. This won't be pretty. I can just SMELL the lawsuits--"
On reaching the ring, the man grasped the bottom rope and scaled them
like monkey bars, doing a perfect 540' spin in the air to land on his feet in
the ring. He rolled his elderly shoulders around, popping any cracks in his
back, and began a complicated string of warmup kicks.
"Then again, it's always the blind guy in martial arts flicks who kicks
insane amounts of ass, right?" Akari realized. "Right! Now, his
competitor... hailing from Hokkaido and weighing in at... dear god, 700
pounds... please welcome 'Fuji'! Huh, one word name. Very post-modern."
The old man Jigen paused in his kata, feeling the ring visibly shaking
beneath his feet. A thumping sound like people dropping a chunk of heavy
machinery over and over was getting closer...
][ JIGEN KOBIRU vs. FUJI
][ FIGHT!
"Well, at least he's not dumb enough to sneak up behind me," Jigen said
aloud.
"What was that, old man?" a rumbling voice that was probably up to four
packs a day said a few feet over his head and behind him.
"I stand corrected. You WERE dumb enough to sneak up behind me," Jigen
continued, not bothering to turn around. He sniffed the air. "And from the
wonderfully pleasant odor, you're sweating buckets and wearing enough leather
to account for two or three cows. Icky. For shame! The creatures of the
earth aren't here to clothe you, you know. Gonna have to teach you some
manners, sonny."
He dropped to an indian-style sitting position, easily avoiding the
swipe through the air where his head was. Twisting his legs, he rolled
forward to avoid the kick that snapped at the space where his body was. The
old man came to a rest balanced perfectly on his head, to further address his
enemy.
"And to add to that," he continued, "You recently soaked in fumes from
special blend Castrol motor oil which I could probably smell a mile away.
You've got also a stench of really cheap cigarettes around you like a small
weather system. I can hear a slight clinking of metal, likely from some
decorative chains and buttons on your jacket too. I thereby conclude...
you're a motorcycle punk!"
Seven hundred pounds of flab rumbled in laughter. "Observant for a
blind old cripple. And I came to Ultra to kick some ass, and you're first!"
"Old?" Jigen asked... flipping one eighty to land on his feet, turning
one eighty to face him. "Well, you're only as young as you feel. As for
blind, yep, most definitely, no arguing that. But as for the rest......
HYAH!"
One moment he was standing near the ropes, the next he was all up in
Fuji's area with a ridiculously sharp series of knife-edge chops and punches.
Nine blows in a row smacked true against Fuji's exposed chest (well, stomach,
given the height differences). More than enough to put anybody away for the
evening.
The sickly slurping noise and associated 'ewwws' from the crowd gave him
pause. Then he felt a meaty fist bang the top of his head so hard that it
nearly drove him through the mat. Being an experienced fighter, he knew to
turn his stagger of pain into an escape, rolling away quickly... a roll that
turned into a flop on his back. Definitely not a whippersnapper anymore, he
thought inwardly. Definitely out of practice, Ultra was definitely what he
needed right now... assuming he could survive his first bout.
"Well, I've almost lost my will to drink," Akari said, looking green.
"I've met guys who had muscles on their muscles and could make them bounce
and do really fun tricks, but nobody who could shift their body fat around
like that to absorb blows completely... ickie."
Fuji stomped over towards the dazed Jigen, since a guy like him couldn't
really 'stroll' or 'strut'. His stomach shifted around in a way that
could've violated international anti-torture treaties or given anybody
negative 2d20 sanity points. "You get it yet, old man?" he growled. "You
can't hurt me. I'm like a WALL. 'cept unlike most walls, I hit back..."
He raised a steel-toed Biker Boot(tm), and brought it down to crush the
old man -- who inexplicably was able to catch it with both hands, and the two
began a 'push of war' test of strength.
"Unbelievable!" Akari blurted. "The scrawny old guy is actually keeping
seven hundred pounds of pressure from his head! How long can he hold out?
How... oh, you again. Can't talk now, busy announcing violence."
"Yo, yo! What you mean, unable to be talking now?!"
Akari cupped the mike on her headset, quite annoyed as she turned to
face Long Dong Wang and his assorted Yakuza cronies. "I'm doing my job here,
okay? Besides, I told you I didn't want to see you again. Fly away, little
gangster, fly away."
"You to be dissin' me now, are you?" LDW asked. "I give you long hard
good ride on the Nipponese Pleasure Rocket and you bitch think you can get
all up in my area and down-smack in front of my dope fresh homeys?"
"Mmm... yeah, basically," Akari said. "Although I'd probably use better
grammar when telling you off, myself. Now beat it or I'll call over the
Security Guy."
Long grinned, pointing. "You to be meanin' that Security Guy?"
Akari glanced to her left, where the Security Guy was unconscious with a
big lump on his head. Not that the screaming fans noticed, they were too
busy rooting for the fight going on in the ring. Nor did they notice LDW's
thugs pulling out clubs, brass knuckles, bicycle chains and other weapons o'
the street.
"Damn," Akari said... before finding herself lifted out of her seat by
her shoulders. "Would it help if I suggested that you'd feel just awful in
the morning about hitting a poor, innocent and frail little girl like me?"
("OOOOOH!" the crowd groaned, at something happening in the ring. All
men in the arena crossed their legs, while the crowd chanted "N-E-O!
N-E-O!...")
"Wouldn't help," Long said. "Homeys, you know what to be doin'..."
Akari uncupped her microphone. "Dude, get someone out here! Get--"
One of the thugs flicked a switchblade, and her headset fell into two
pieces. Nice trick, she thought.
Long Dong Wang cracked his knuckles. "To being time for you to learn
LDW is not a 'love 'em and leave 'em' type, unless it to be the other way
around, you dig?" he said, grinning big. "I'm gonna--"
"'scuze me, sonny?"
"The hell you want?" Long asked, looking at the two feet that were
planting themselves neatly in his face, as Jigen Kobiru handplanted off the
desk to boot himself some Yakuza head.
Long was knocked backwards into his thugs, providing your bowling pin
crash moment of the night as Jigen flipped to his feet, standing on the
announcer's desk. "I don't think the young lady is interested in you boys,"
he said, pointing out the obvious. "I'm busy tryin' to have a fight here and
she was doin' a right fine job of announcing it before you punkolas busted in
here. Now scram, or I'll TEACH you to respect your elders!"
LDW wiped his mouth, snarling at the offending old guy. "You think Long
Dong Wang is to being afraid of some crippled--"
Vaulting off the desk, Jigen tossed himself feet first into the fray.
Akari stood slack-jawed (with the occasional wince of sympathy pain) as she
watched the seventy year old man take apart four armed goons like so many
Lego bricks. Eventually The Dude's security guys did show to pull the two
groups apart, but the job was pretty much done by then.
Long hurled some words that would probably be bleeped from the live
broadcast, as he was dragged backstage. "You don't to be dissin' Long Dong
Wang, foo'! I'll throw you helluva far!" he warned, before shaking off the
security and marching behind the curtain by himself.
"Kids these days," Jigen scoffed, straightening out his clothes. He
turned to at least be facing in Akari's general direction. "No manners
whatsoever. A shame, a downright shame. You okay, young lady?"
"All vital organs accounted for, but I could use a beer," Akari wheezed.
"Something for my nerves--"
Feeling condensation in the air from chilled drinks, Jigen snatched a
cold beer out of the tray of a passing vendor, and tossed towards her voice.
She caught it out of the air on reflex, as she caught up on what was going
on... back in the ring, medical guys were trying to find a way to get the
mountain onto a stretcher, as he rolled around in sheer agony while clutching
the spot between his legs where Jigen had delivered the finishing blow.
Apparently there were some spots on his body the fat didn't protect, and
she'd completely missed the end of the match.
"It'd be a shame for such a lovely flower to be plucked by uncouths such
as those guys," Jigen mused, smiling playfully. "You're lucky I figured out
that fellow's weak spot and won the fight in time to come help you. You
deserve to go out with a MUCH nicer man than whatsisname. Perhaps a romantic
at heart with a diner's club card and a hotline to a flower delivery
service?"
As if her last situation wasn't disorienting enough, Akari thought.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but are you... asking me out? Aren't you nearly
four times my age?"
"You're only as old as you feel," Jigen said.
"Hey, just because a knight in shining pajamas saved my ass doesn't mean
he gets a free date," Akari warned, as she popped open her drink. "Given my
recent string of luck, I should be avoiding weird proposals, anyway. You
don't even KNOW me. Don't even know what I look like, I could be some basset
hound of a girl, you know..."
"Oh? I know what perfume you're wearing," he said, hopping up to sit on
the security barrier near her desk. "Ai-chan's Number Five. Distinctive
stuff... light and breezy, but distinct. Very economical, too. I'm guessing
you're the sort who wants to be noticed without breaking your back to do so.
And that's Sapporo beer, yes? A domestic, but a high quality one; a
discerning taste without being too tacky. Oh, and your eyes are as blue and
pure as the Caribbean waters, but I actually got that out of the kid at the
switchboard back there. Can't really tell myself. Does it count?"
Akari pondered that, fingering the Sapporo can she had set on her desk.
"Maaaaaybe. Depends on what it's counting towards, Sherlock."
"Fancy dinner?" Jigen suggested. "Minimum three and a half stars?"
"I fancy I'm more woman than you can handle, gramps."
"Oh, don't read anything physical into this little whim," Jigen mused,
hopping to his feet to stand on the thin barricade. "I just likes to spend
social time with nice ladies. My days of the horizontal lambada are well
behind me."
Akari laughed. "I don't think I've HAD a date recently that didn't end
that way. It's... an interesting concept. You are quite possibly the
strangest quasi-octogenarian I've ever met, Jigen."
"Is that a yes?" he asked.
"Thursday night, eight o'clock, and I'll give you the address when
we're... err... not on the air? The light is on? We're still on the air!?
JEEZ, Dude, give a lady her privacy! Don't make me come back there and spank
you, you little brat, cut to commercial!!"
The live feed cut to a promo for Skittles faster than the flapping of a
hummingbird's wings.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
It's customary for girls with her lifestyle to stare at their shoes and
mumble about their pain. Comes part in parcel with the black eye makeup and
the hair dye and the overly drippy candles. But somehow, her heart just
wasn't into loathing the world tonight.
She was too damn happy.
So happy that she almost was SKIPPING as she strolled into the NeoDome,
fashionably late, lugging around her duffel bag of unholy artifacts. So
happy that she didn't put a single neuron of thought to the obvious
confrontation she would have on arrival.
"ONEEECHAAAAAN!!!"
Demonstrating her incredible speed and agility, Keiko Kenji executed a
perfect diving tackle hug on her beloved sister, sending both to the floor of
the backstage area.
"Whhfff," Kisei Kenji wheezed. "Sis.. breathing..."
"Aaaa! Sorry sorry!" Keiko apologized, flipping to her feet quickly.
"I'm just so happy to see you! I thought you were in danger!... are you
okay? You're not possessed by dark forces or under the shadow of evil, are
you?"
"No more than usual," Kisei grumbled, getting to her feet with
considerably less skill. "Although you may have cracked a rib... jeez!
What's your problem? Okay, maybe I didn't come home last week, but... I was
busy. Couldn't be helped."
"You were busy consorting with the spawn of the evil one!" Keiko
declared, pointing dramatically with a rising sun fan. "That demon you
summoned last week is awful awful really bad, Kisei! He's dangerous and mean
and hurts people!"
"Yeah, and?" Kisei asked. "He's a DEMON, duuuh. It's par for course.
What's the big deal? You act like I've brought about the apocalypse or
something. Sis, relax! He's not a psycho killer, he's an artist. He paints
pictures and writes music in his spare time. I've gotten to know this guy,
and he's REALLY cool and knows how to have fun, and we've been hitting clubs
and stuff and he's been teaching me a few new spells that I'm dying to try
out--"
"He did the same for me."
Both sisters turned, as a figure in black emerged from shadow. His
sword was sheathed and by his side, but his nerves were wrapped so tight you
could feel the urge to draw it...
"I summoned him years ago," Tenma spoke. "Just as you did. I wanted to
be powerful... to be the greatest swordsman on the planet. He taught me what
I wanted to learn, but he also taught me things I could never unlearn. He
turned me into himself -- he'll do the same to you, eventually. He doesn't
kill and he's not into world domination, he doesn't have horns and he's not
your stereotypical raging devil... he's something worse. He slips in, blends
in, fades out in the sea of humanity and can do anything he pleases because
he knows how to twist people around his finger. Every life he touches dances
to his whims, for his personal desire to be entertained. He is chaos. And
he's going to do the same thing to you that he did to me."
Kisei peered at the boy... frowning deeply, so deep the frown was like a
frown on top of a frown inside a frown. "Did you spend all night practicing
that little speech, Tenma? Is that supposed to scare me into obeying you?
YOU'RE the one who had me humiliated and sealed away. If it wasn't for him
I'd still be in your clutches. Don't think I've forgotten what you did to
me, little man. I'm INTENDING to pay you back for it--"
"Wait, wait!" Keiko pleaded, getting between the two. "Kisei, please
listen to me even if you won't listen to him! You don't know what danger
you're in, sis. You've gone too far with this one! This isn't some little
thing you're doing to defy mother anymore, this isn't some teenage
rebellion... you're consorting with real evil. TRUE evil. ...and I have to
stop this."
"You?" Kisei asked... and laughed. "Oh, please. Is this your lame
attempt to justify being a demon hunter? 'See bad guy, kill bad guy'. Just
like mother."
"No, I'm trying to save you," Keiko pleaded. "Just tell us where he is,
and we'll handle it. Tenma can--"
"Tenma can jump off Tokyo Tower!" Kisei growled. "And you, sis, you're
so die hard about hunting down the only guy who's ever truly understood me?
No. You want a fight, you fight ME. Tonight, in the ring. Then you'll see
what powers he's given me, and know you're wasting your time. Deal?"
Tenma stepped back. "That's a waste of time," he decided. "I'm here
tonight for one reason only, and that's to face my father in combat. If he's
not going to fight, I'm not going to be involved. Keiko, contact me if she
gives you any more information. I'm leaving."
"Whaaa?" Keiko blurted. "You're leaving? But... what about the demon?
What about the week we spent hunting this guy?"
"We weren't on a long date," Tenma said, turning his back. "Your
purpose and mine simply coincided, and now they seem to be diverging, so I
have no need to stay at your side. Typical of a girl to read something into
nothing. Goodbye."
He stepped forward into the shadow of a wall, and vanished completely.
Leaving Keiko in the lurch.
"Well?" Kisei asked, ignoring his exit. "Are we on?"
"...of course!" Keiko shouted, her fist tightening and shaking. "I'll
see you in the ring, ONEECHAN."
"Fine, then."
"Fine!"
"FINE!!"
And the two marched in opposite directions.
Kisei rolled on over to the concession stand, wanting to wet her throat
after all that yelling. She banged her fist on the counter twice...
And a shadow wearing a jaunty little paper hat rose to greet her.
"May I be of service, ma'am?" he asked, giving a sweeping, formal
western-style bow.
"I was wondering where you were hiding," Kisei said, smirking. "You
took off from our pad without me."
"Had to prepare for an evening of fun," the demon said. "Slipped all
the rites and spells your friends were using to find me, too. The silly
demon hunter and my ex-prodigy never think to just ask if anybody's seen my
smiling face. Plus I hid under the counter a lot."
"Typical. Hey, can I have a root beer?"
"Root beer yes, soda no," he said, pulling a paper cup off the stack.
"I've put a little surprise in the soda tonight. TRUE performance art!
Social engineering in action!"
"Oh? What?"
"If I TOLD you, it wouldn't be as much fun. You'll see. Want fries
with that?"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
"And we're back!" Akari announced... looking quite giddy and girlish.
Not because she was on her third beer, but because she was feeling unusually
cheerful this evening. "It looks like I've got a date, folks! And if any of
you crazed stalker Ultra fans try to hunt me down while I'm enjoying my
civilian life, you should know my companion is capable of killing you five
different ways before your body hits the ground, blind or not. But enough
about me! On with the brutality as entertainment! Next--"
Ultra-manly music pumped out of the speakers like testosterone, as red
and white firework showers spilled from the roof... and the crowd heat died,
other than a little light applause. The musclebound figure at the top of the
ramp didn't seem pleased with that, but smiled all the same, as he raised a
microphone.
"Shinjuku! The Great Yaga greets you all!" he greeted, while adjusting
his angle so the lights would glint off his shiny NeoWorld Championship belt
perfectly. "As promised, I have returned to defend my title in honorable
combat! I look forward to my future challengers, and welcome them to the
field of battle, even if they're all going to lose. And speaking of which...
I'd like to address my young friend Li Ping, who is at home nursing an ankle
injury suffered through his own incompetence--"
A small wave of boos hit The Great Yaga, much to his surprise.
"Now, wait, wait," he said. "I know I've been... less than cordial
towards him in the past. And for that, I apologize. He has great potential
to make it in this business and I wish him the best in his career! But I
have to warn him, for his OWN sake... Li, you shouldn't push yourself like
that. You're just going to get yourself hurt if you try to play on my level,
boy. You'd be better off sticking to the other children in the roster, so
you can play with your little friends and leave the REAL fights to the
adults! And I think the fine mature folk of Shinjuku agree with me, ri--"
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO," the crowd responded.
Yaga flinched. "I understand you're all fans of the young boy, but even
you must realize that he's out of his element and needs to play in his own
sandbox--"
"ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!" the crowd started to chant, sneering and jeering at
him. Someone even took the time to write 'RETIRE ALREADY' on one of the
whiteboards Akari had so helpfully provided earlier in the show.
...Yaga's fist tightened with an audible creak. Throwing down the
microphone, he marched to the ring to do what he came to do: defend his belt.
They'd come around. Once he proved his dominance on this pathetic little
show, they'd cheer him like they used to. All he needed to do was was to
crush a worthy competitor in front of their very eyes.
"Introducing his opponent..." Akari spoke, with a game-show-hostess-like
flourishing arm gesture, "Weighing in at about ninety pounds soaking wet, he
hails from the suburbs of Tokyo, please welcome... 'LLAMABOY!'"
A kid who couldn't have been over fifteen years old posed at the top of
the ramp. With crazed blue hair that he hadn't combed in days and a blue-
black Napster t-shirt, he stood with a gaudily-colored Supersoaker on a
shoulder strap, doing the Little Rock and Rock Devil Hand Sign as he whooped
it up for the crowd. (The crowd, figuring it's better to cheer for this guy
than Yaga, ate it up with a spork.)
Another child, Yaga frowned. Great.
][ LLAMABOY vs. THE GREAT YAGA
][ NEOWORLD CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
][ FIGHT!
Said child sprinted down the ramp, sugar jangling his nerves like guitar
strings as he slid in under the bottom rope. He had a small full-body
seizure stemming from his overexcitement before getting a grip on things...
and a grip on his watergun, which he leveled at Yaga.
"You suck! I rule you!" Llamaboy proclaimed. "I'm the king of
deathmatch, and I'm gonna spank you like a high pinger! Come get some!"
Yaga groaned, setting his belt aside for now. "And how do you intend to
spank me, kid? With your water gun? If this is Satoshi's idea of a joke,
I'm not laugh... what are you doing?"
The kid bounced from foot to foot, spiraling around Yaga while walking
sideways. "Circle strafing, biznatch!" he declared. "You can't match my
l33t-ass skillz! Now, taste my BFG!"
"I have no intention of tasting anything of yours, little--"
In full defiance of the laws of Newtonian physics, the cute little
plastic watergun unloaded with the force of a fire hose. Yaga's impressive
bulk wasn't enough to withstand the flow, as he was knocked flat on his back,
coughing up water and wondering exactly what just happened.
"Holy cow, the kid just took out Yaga with a single attack!" Akari
announced. "I don't believe it. We're gonna have a new NeoWorld champion!"
Llamaboy slung his watergun back to his hip, and placed one sneaker on
the chest of the Great Yaga. Posing with two little devil signs, he bounced
up and down.
"0WN3D!!" he declared with pride.
Then a meaty hand clamped around his ankle, and he found his victory
dance inverted as Yaga rose like Lazareth, dangling the boy upside down.
With a howl of rage, The Great Yaga hurled the boy straight up in the
air. The shrieking kid peaked at the twenty foot mark, waving his arms madly
and trying to get a grip on the handle of his gun as he fell back to earth--
Only to meet the full fury of the Roaring Elbow five feet from the mat,
Yaga whacking him into the tenth row seating section as easily as batting a
home run in a softball game. He grabbed his belt and stormed out of the ring
as the ref called for the bell, obviously not happy with the fight.
Satoshi will hear of this, Yaga thought. He'd never regain his fame and
adoration if all he had to fight were weaklings. Next week, he'd better be
facing off against a real challenge, or there would be hell to pay...
"Well, that sucks," Akari bemoaned. "Once again Yaga crushes the
competition before we can get a good show out of it. Typical. Don't worry,
folks, we'll be right back with your mystery main event! It's GOTTA be
better than this."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
He was still coming down from the rush as he zipped up his bag, ready to
leave. Jigen thought he was prepared for it; he wouldn't have flown out here
from his nice, safe retirement home in Florida if he wasn't ready for a
return to action. But what he wasn't prepared for was the crowd.
In a way, he had the advantage of not seeing thousands staring at him,
but he could hear every last cheer and shout and clap. In previous martial
arts tournaments, back when he was in his prime (his late 50's, of course)
there would be some polite applause from the small gathering of warriors and
judges, and that would be that. There wouldn't be a roar of appreciation.
It was quite new to him... and quite pleasant, as well.
Of course, getting caught up in the excitement did spurn him on to
confronting those boys outside the ring -- also something that doesn't happen
often at prim and proper tournaments. Still, he couldn't let a poor young
lady be accosted; he was very old school in his beliefs that you just don't
treat women like that. He got a date out of it, however, which was always a
good thing. The day he stopped flirting would be the day he decided he felt
as old as he was.
He strolled out of the locker room, relying on his memorized map of the
building and the taps of his cane to guide him to the exit. His taxi would
be waiting outside to ferry him to his new pad. Once he got back to his
apartment, he'd be sure to call up the home and brag to his buddies about his
victory, put his dentures in some water, feed the dog and get some shuteye.
Perfect cap to a perfect evening...
"HEY, old fogey-san!"
The angry voice came from about fifteen feet behind him, as he slowed
his stroll to a halt.
"Don't think this is to being over!" Long Dong Wang snarled. "You are
not to be walkin' your not nearly as bad ass as my own out of the door
without a gratuitous amount of the act of bringing the pain! To be turning
around and fighting me! Respect my ass, beyotch!"
"So that's how it's going to be," Jigen said, smiling to himself. He
set his backpack down, cracked his knuckles...
And snapped a sharp kick to the man in front of him. He had his bag off
the floor and was tapping his way around the body before it even hit the
ground.
"That might've worked if you'd bothered to shower this morning,
whippersnapper," Jigen pointed out. "Next time, try Right Guard for those
telling underarm odors. Excuse me, I have a taxi to catch."
Sumyung Gai hit STOP on the portable stereo's tape playback, and rushed
over to check his fallen master. Long Dong Wang sat up, glaring at the EXIT
door that was swinging shut.
"That guy," Long declared, "Just was to be signin' his death warrant."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Keiko took a deep breath as she stood behind the red curtain.
In moments, she'd be fighting her own sister. This wasn't the way it
was supposed to be. Ultra was supposed to unite them, to give them something
they could work together on... partners in arms, sisters undefiable! Even if
Kisei had to fight with her dark magic, Keiko could tolerate it in the name
of family love and togetherness.
But now...
Now she had to save her sister by fighting her. Not that she even knew
how fighting her was going to save her, but it was too late now. The match
was made, and even if it settled nothing, she had to go through with it. If
she was lucky, she could... sort of re-kidnap Kisei back. If that made
sense. But to do this, she had to either get hurt, or to hurt her own flesh
and blood...
That moment behind the curtain, on the verge between safety and danger,
she felt very frail. Very fragile. What she needed desperately was support
and compassion. Tenma wasn't very good at either, but she found herself
oddly wishing he hadn't left. She'd have to rely on the cheers of the fans
to egg her on in this questionable fight.
So, when the Dude gave her the signal, she stepped through--
And was nearly knocked over by the waves of boos.
The entire audience seemed to simultaneously rise to shout at her,
scream really nasty things at her and toss empty soda cups at her. She held
up her arms to deflect the debris, and quickly made her way into the ring.
"The hell?" Akari wondered. "Boy, this crowd is PICKY tonight. They
didn't even shout at Yaga this loudly. Did I miss something here? What'd
Keiko do to get them to hate her? Personally, I think she's got great
fashion sense..."
As Keiko dove through the ropes, the shower of trash stopped... and the
lights started to dim. Cigarette lighters flicked on in the crowd, tiny dots
of fire wavering in the still air of the dome, as some playfully spooky
sounding gothic rock aired over the loudspeakers... someone was coming.
Someone totally new to Akari, as she flipped through her program in a vain
effort to figure out what was going on...
A red spotlight snapped on, illuminating the top of the ramp... as blood
oozed out from behind the curtain. Akari and Keiko made simultaneous 'Ick'
faces, as the blood seemed to pool and flow into a circle... which then, in a
sequence that would've cost two million dollars of complicated computer
animation had it not been real, turned into a man.
He stood average height, with a slim build. He wore mostly black and
red in a very chic style, complete with a silver walking cane -- no cloak or
cape, that would've been too tacky. He did have the requisite pointy beard
and delightfully evil glint in his eyes... which, of course, glowed red.
And the crowd went WILD. Cheers and adoration poured out by the gallon
on this man, as he took a few sweeping bows, blew kisses to the women in the
audience (many of which were declaring undying love for him). What's more,
someone had armed him with a microphone, and he intended to use it.
"Hello, Shinjuku!" he called out, tounge nearly curling over every
syllable. "Hello, Tokyo! Hello Japan, and hello again planet earth! My
name is Fidelio, a demon risen from the lower planes in order to make your
lives more interesting in ways you would not approve of!"
The audience got louder, wailing in joy and applauding his every word.
Akari tried to shout into her headset to ask the Dude what was going on, but
there was no way he could hear her over the noise.
"Now, I'm sure the viewers at home are a little confused. It's
understandable, it's so very understandable! I will explain the nature of my
glorious performance art. Every one of these mortal swine had some of the
soda from the concession stand I've been tending to, and I made sure to put
just a TINY drop of myself into every one! I understand this may be in
violation of several health codes, to which I say watch me not care."
"...okay, that explains that," Akari mumbled. "I think I can be
legitimately worried now. Thank Lina I just drink beer..."
Keiko stood aghast, and tried to yell something at the demon, but the
crowd was too loud for her un-microphone'd words. Still, Fidelio seemed to
hear them, as he replied immediately.
"Yes, dear Keiko Kenji, they are now my willing puppets. But you may
relax, as it will fade once they piss it out of their collective system by
morning. Until then, you can look forward to the anti-adoration of your new
anti-fans! And I'd suggest not trying to jump that rope and attack me,
because if you do... well, I don't like fatal bloodshed (far too wasteful),
but I'm sure I could think of something imaginatively nasty for them to do.
If there's anything I have too much of, it's creativity..."
Nuts to this, Akari thought. She took off her headset, and ducked under
the desk... Satoshi could dock her pay if he wanted, but she wasn't going to
hang around during this. Fortunately the crowd was too spaced out to notice
her stealthy escape from the building.
"And now, the moment I've had you all waiting for!" the man announced,
pointing towards the curtain with his cane. "Your heroine, your savior, your
party host, your mistress of the evening... put your hands together for KISEI
KENJI!"
Complete with screaming angst-rock, Kisei strolled out... although the
wide smile and the mocking bows didn't speak of much angst. She exchanged a
brief bop-fists-together-in-friendly-greeting with the demon, who stood his
ground on the stage as she walked on down to the ring.
"...sis..." Keiko spoke, too shocked to make it loud enough to be heard.
She shook her head to clear it, as Kisei rolled in, and raised her voice.
"Sis, how could you... how could you go along with this?! It's inhuman!"
"Oh, please!" Kisei laughed, rolling her eyes. "It's just a prank, sis.
He's turning the whole Pavlovian group mentality on its ear. I think it's a
damn good bit of satire, myself. He could probably even get them to cheer on
that Yaga fink!"
"You don't know what this ma.. this THING is capable of! Tenma's told
me horrible stories, about... about how he'd use people as furniture, or take
over whole buildings, worm his way into governments, play practical jokes in
public where people get hurt--"
"Yes, and? He's a demon. Demons are not good news," Kisei commented,
buffing her nails on her dress. "Why are you so shocked? You know I'm a
follower of the powers of darkness. This is POWER, Keiko. The ability to
control, the ability to stop your enemies from getting the upper hand! To
prove you're strong and nobody can stop you! Until now I had never summoned
anything powerful enough, but now... now I don't have to worry about anything
ever again. I don't need mother, and... I don't need YOU."
"S... sis..."
Kisei flicked her loose sleeves once, twisting her hands into a casting
position. "It's about time I grew up and out of that cold nest. It's OVER,
sis. If it means I have to beat it into your head, to show you my new power,
then I'll do it! Ref, ring the damn bell!"
][ KEIKO KENJI vs. KISEI KENJI
][ FIGHT!
In another melting/unmelting effect, Fidelio appeared at the announcer's
desk. Seeing a discarded headset, he slid into Akari's chair and put it on.
"Far be it for us to deny you folks at home some color commentary," he
commented. "Therefore, allow me to give you the entertainment you all
desire! This will be a terrific fight. As Kisei's new personal trainer, I
can say she's ready for this bout and ready to cut her ties. This is history
in the making, ladies and gentlemen!"
"Go ahead, sis," Kisei mocked, waving her own. "Take the first shot.
You've got me dead bang. Let's see you actually hit your own sister, if you
can. But you're too NICE for that, aren't--"
A stiff kick found its way to Kisei's throat, as she staggered back into
the ropes. Keiko bounced lightly from foot to foot, in classic kunoichi
martial arts form. "To save you from the evil, I must beat you severely and
drag you home, oneechan!" she warned. "Gomen nasai!"
That would be enough taunting for her -- Keiko got down to business
wordlessly after that apology. A long string of kicks and punches found
their marks, halting each spell and rite Kisei tried to launch; black power
would very briefly build, before the impact knocked her hands out of
position.
"Well, THIS isn't very fair," Fidelio complained. "But that's what you
get when you put the punishing of evil above all other priorities. I'd like
to consider myself an open-minded individual; I'd have been willing to
welcome Keiko into the fold, but no, her racism against my people just had to
get in the way... Kisei-chan! Fight back! Use the Midnight Howl I taught...
oh, dear..."
Keiko latched her hands onto her sister's shoulders, and whirled her
through the air in an airplane spin. After a few rotations, she let go, and
Kisei slid to a halt all the way across the ring.
It's fortunate that she isn't used to a real physical fight, Keiko
thought, breathing heavily from the effort. All it will take is her Shooting
Star Press aerial dive, and this is over... she eyed the closest turnbuckle
to her fallen sister, and started a dash for it.
"Oh, my allergies!" Fidelio cried out in alarm, rising to his feet...
and sneezing violently.
A small spatter of blood landed perfectly on the mat, right where
Keiko's foot landed -- she slipped on it and fell flat on her back.
"I really should see a doctor about those," he said, resuming his seat.
"But it's so hard to get good health care when you're a creature of the
night. The dental plan isn't very good eith--"
The tip of a blade sprouted from the middle of his chest. He looked
down curiously at the crimson edge, genuinely surprised... before melting
away, slurping around the desk and reforming on the other side.
The boy crouched on the security barrier kept his sword in a defensive
position, his hateful glare drilling a hole through the demon's head.
"I'm a little too busy to play, Tenma," Fidelio noted. "If you wanted
to hang with me, you shouldn't have sealed me away all those years ago. Now
I'd prefer to have nothing to do with--"
"Shut up and fight," he intoned. "You're not as witty as you think you
are, father."
"Nor are you as heroic as you make yourself to be," Fidelio warned,
raising his silver cane. "But, I could be mistaken. Prove me wrong, boy."
Still dizzy from the unexpected fall, Keiko struggled back to her feet.
This was wasting time, precious seconds her sister could recover in. She
could...
Could be on her feet, with an icy sharpness to her eyes and a thick
black aura oozing from every part of her body, her hands behind her back.
Keiko ignored her inner ear troubles, and acted quickly -- thumbing a paper
ward from her cleavage, and snapping it through the air.
Kisei's hands whipped to the forefront, one before another -- a
cigarette lighter in one hand, a small can of hairspray in the other. The
resulting flamethrower incinerated the ward before it could reach her.
"Don't even try it, sis," Kisei warned, cutting the flame but keeping it
ready... her stance threatening. "You're not sealing me up like Tenma did.
You don't control me, and mother doesn't control me. I do what I WANT to do
and nothing else. If I want to have a demon for a friend, I will! Have I
proven that to you yet? Do you yield, or do I show you who's boss around
here once and for all?"
Keiko sank to one knee -- a mild concussion, maybe? Something was
screwing up her balance, keeping her from fighting back. There was no way
she could put up a fight now, not against a fully angered and recovered
Kisei. It was a losing battle, a lost cause.
Admitting this would also mean admitting to losing her sister.
"No," Keiko said. "I'll never give up on you. I'll never give up!"
"So that's how it's going to be," Kisei replied, closing her eyes... as
the darkness swirled around her like a fully mobile shadow. She twisted her
hands into casting position, each joint locked solid, her whole body tense
with the force...
The shadow roared down her arms, through her fingers, and bridged the
gap between the two sisters. Keiko found herself picked up by the howling
winds, the shadows that seemed to have substance -- she pushed as hard as she
could, a test of strength against the magic that she lost immediately...
Darkness twisted her around, and hurled her through the air. She
crashed through Akari's announcer's desk, and was knocked out cold
immediately.
With a swipe of the cane across Tenma's head, his battle was over as
well. He staggered backwards and fell on top of Keiko, also unconscious.
Kisei slid out of the ring, to join her new partner in looking over the
fallen ones... all while the crowd exploded in near-orgiastic thrill at their
amazing victory.
"Too weak," Fidelio sighed, twirling his cane back into walking-stick
position. "He came to me for strength, yet he refuses to USE it. Sad,
really."
"Hopefully they'll learn from this," Kisei suggested.
"Probably not. Humanity is stubborn. Still... this is the most fun
I've had since I crashed the stock market in the twenties," he said, with a
smile. He hooked his arm, offering it to Kisei. "So, my dear, shall we be
off? The night is young, the fight is over, and there's nothing left to do
here."
As the two walked off, bathed in the adoration of their fans, the
credits rolled and the show was over.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The credits rolled, and the show was over. One push of a remote control
button made it official.
"I'm almost glad I wasn't there," Li Ping spoke quietly. "I thought
demons and angels were only a problem on Ultra, not NeoFighters... I can't
believe how unfair that was! Kisei just toyed with her..."
Ayane sat next to him, equally stunned. "I thought it was about
fighting... not about magic and stuff. Jeez, Li... maybe I should rethink
this training! There's no way I could do anything against someone like her
in the ring. I mean, that attack... it's unstoppable."
"There's no such thing as an unstoppable attack, Ayane. I told you
that."
"Okay, maybe for someone like an Omega fighter on Ultra, but not for
ordinary people like you and me."
"She used a lot of leverage," Li mused. "Force and pressure. I could
see Keiko trying to fight it off, before she got thrown..."
"Li... don't."
"Eh?"
"You're going to challenge her, aren't you?" Ayane said. "I'm getting
this feeling you're talking about beyond a purely theoretical level. You
want to try to best her."
"Well... it IS the way of a warrior to seek new challenges and struggle
to overcome them--"
"Li!"
"I'm a martial arts hero, Ayane. That was villainy if I've ever seen
villainy. I mean, Yaga's a bastard, but that was as close to true evil as
I've seen! Maybe I could--"
"I don't want you getting hurt again!"
"It's part of the occupation, Ayane!" Li countered. "Martial artists
get hurt. We fight, we have battles, we hurt each other, we get hurt! It's
the way of things, it has to be accepted or you could never get in the ring
in the first place. I'm not afraid of getting hurt. You're going to have to
get over that fear too if you're going to get in the ring."
"Maybe I SHOULDN'T get in the ring, then!" Ayane spoke up. "Maybe this
whole training thing is a waste of my time. I should just be cooking. Worst
I have to worry about in the kitchen is a greasefire. I don't understand why
you would want to put yourself in danger like that! You CAN'T do it, Li."
"I'm going to do it," he warned. "I'll call Satoshi tomorrow and ask
for the match. This is who I am, Ayane. I HAVE to do this."
"Fine!" she yelled, tossing her hands up. "Don't expect me to run out
to your side when you're hauled away on a stretcher this time! You're being
foolish, Li."
"Ayane-chan--"
"Don't Ayane-chan me," she warned, getting up. "I'm going home.
...I'll see you next Wednesday at the show. Goodbye, Li."
The door slammed after a minute of stunned silence.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The beeping of his watch woke Sichi Satoshi with a jerk, his head coming
off the desk sharply. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the poor light of
his office and accidentally knocking some empty cups and paper stacks off the
desk as he checked the time...
Good. The ratings would be in now. He fired up the laptop, dialed in,
gave the password, and checked...
0.3.
Pure relief flowed in his veins. The lack of promotion hadn't hurt
them; maybe the ball was rolling now, rolling upward at a percentage point a
week? It could be enough to get them to the big one-point-oh by the pay per
view. If it didn't--
Knock.
"Come in," he called.
"Hello, am I disturbing?" a man asked, leaning in. "I hope I didn't
catch you at a bad time..."
"I was just about to head home," Satoshi-san said, getting up. "Do you
need something?"
"Yes, actually," the visitor spoke as he walked in. "I've decided this
show is too fun to abandon after my big debut. I'd like a full contract with
mandatory two year extension as well as decent pay and a creative control
clause. If you violate these terms by firing me or booking against my
wishes, I'll sue your company for all it's worth after draining all the fluid
from your body."
"Okay," Satoshi said, eyes glazing over slightly. He nudged an empty
soda cup aside, and started to write up the contract.
Five minutes later, Fidelio was joining Kisei by the water fountain,
tucking the guaranteed contract away in a shirt pocket.
"You really signed up?" she asked. "I thought you were kidding."
"Never kid a kidder," he smiled. "He'll realize what he's done by
morning, but it'll be too late to fire me then. But on to more entertaining
events! I know a simply STUNNING little club on the far side of town...
assuming it hasn't vanished while I was locked away. Shall we?"
"'kay! Let's go."
"...but first, I need a drink."
"Huh?"
In a swift motion, the demon plunged his arm into Kisei's chest and
closed his hand around her heart. Her body froze, eyes open wide as her
vision blurred...
The arm withdrew, going from liquid to solid and leaving no wound
whatsoever. He flexed his fingers, skin tone having gone from a vague
paleness to a healthy shade. Kisei's knees wobbled when she regained control
of her body, heart skipping a beat.
"Much better," Fidelio spoke, impressed. "Must be the vitality of
youth... oh, come now, I didn't take THAT much of your blood. Don't be such
a crybaby. I hope you're awake enough for some late night fun! I could
simply murder a few tequilas about now."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
][ NEOFIGHTERS #3 RESULTS/RECAP
* JIGEN KOBIRU defeated FUJI, now at 1W/0L
* THE GREAT YAGA defeated LLAMABOY, now at 2W/0L
and still NEOWORLD CHAMPION
* KISEI KENJI defeated KEIKO KENJI, now at 1W/1L