Work Text:
‘Now, split up into two groups!’
The voice echoed out about the gymnasium. It created an instant rift in the crowd of younger chojin, who parted like the seas and took their appropriate places, and most were obedient in creating an equal number of chojin on either side. Jade sat among some of those with better grades and better winning records, while the ‘slackers’ gravitated more to the opposite side. It left almost ten chojin on each side. The divide was almost perfect . . . almost.
Kevin kept his place centre of the gymnasium space, alongside Terry the Kid and Scarface. He folded his arms and tilted his head, as he ran his gaze over Ikemen Muscle, and each breath was slow and controlled, as he counted every inhalation and exhalation. The room was silent, with all the eyes of his colleagues upon him. He held his ground. Kid simply looked into the distance, with his thumbs hooked behind his braces, and Scarface kicked at the ground with a lazy foot, while he shot deathly glares down at the floor. Ikemen sighed, as he asked:
“What’s the matter now, Gentlemen?”
Kevin pointed to a small case by one set of bleachers. It stood on a small podium, where it was carefully opened to display its contents to the world beyond, and there – perfectly poised – sat two long fencing swords among an array of outer protective uniforms. The two swords were soon picked up by Ramenman and Buffaloman, the two main instructors for their intensive training course . . . Warsman claiming a lack of patience, Robin Mask a lack of time, and Kinnikuman a lack of desire. Kevin looked between both men in the distance, and retorted:
“You want us to learn how to fence?”
“Well, that was the idea,” chirped Ikemen. “If you split into two groups, with each group occupying the opposite set of bleachers, we’ll be able to get started! Ramenman and Buffaloman will begin by offering forth a demonstration, after which we shall call you up in pairs to practice with one another. The winner of our little tournament shall –”
“Get to face off against the Legends?”
“I know I’d kill t’ fight against mah daddy,” interrupted Kid.
“I always thought I’d take on Kinnikuman pretty easily,” muttered Scarface.
“No, no, no!” Ikemen pinched the bridge of his nose. “The winner of the fencing match will be rewarded by a week off from training . . . no more and no less! We thought it’d be the best incentive, considering Mantaro always seems reluctant to come to training in the first place.”
All four men looked to Mantaro. He sat on the lowest of the bleachers, as well as closest to the forthcoming demonstration, and his chin was firmly planted on his hands, with elbows in turn planted on his knees, so that he looked like an eager student awaiting a desired lesson. Seiuchin sat just beside him, where he seemed to fire off a series of rapid-fire questions, and Mantaro – without taking his eyes from Ramenman – answered every one in a concise and polite manner. It was clear that the lessons were aimed at the lowest common denominator. Kevin spat:
“While that’s a good incentive for that plonker, it’s not much of an incentive for me.”
“Yeah,” Scarface muttered. “Can’t we get to pick our opponents at least?”
“Indeed! I’d simply love to shove the end of my sword through my father’s chest.” Kevin chuckled. “I mean, nothing to kill him, of course, but just enough to draw some blood and assert my place at the very top of the Justice Chojin. I’d make him beg for mercy. He’ll be humiliated before his friends and colleagues, as I have him at the point of my blade.”
Ikemen brought his hands to his head. A pair of callused fingers rubbed at his temples, while he muttered a series of incoherent words under his breath, and his eyes screwed shut until lines appeared deep against his unconventionally attractive face. Scarface laughed, before he whispered: ‘you’re gonna make him snap one of these days’. Kevin opened his mouth to retort, but Ikemen simply lifted his head and bore a smile that was strained to say the least, and – when he spoke – his tone was curt and voice slowed down. He flared his nostrils and said:
“We’ve foam fencing swords just for that very reason.”
“That ain’t fair,” said Kid.
“Who’s even referring this event anyway?” Kevin asked.
“Can I just quit now?” Scarface added. “It’s no good without real blades.”
Ikemen flushed. He puffed out his cheeks and pursed his lips, before he pointed a shaking hand towards the ‘delinquent’ side of the hall, away from Jade and Check Mate and Gorgeousman. A series of audible breaths hissed from his general vicinity, while his chest rose and fell in time with each and every one, and the smile was now . . . surreal. It failed to quite meet his eyes. It failed to convey a genuinely jovial mood. He somehow shouted without raising his voice:
“Go take your seats, if you please!”
Kevin raised his hands in mock surrender. The words ‘touchy git’ passed through his lips in a mock stage-whisper, just loud enough for those around him to clearly discern the meaning, and – shouted back in a voice trembling with rage – followed the familiar: ‘I heard that’! It took all his self-restraint to refrain from a ‘good, you were supposed to’, but instead he simply took his seat just behind Mantaro on the bleachers up ahead. Kid and Scarface sat on either side of him.
Despite the rows and rows available, all ten chojin sat together in one small area. Mantaro remained sat properly and elegantly on the front row, where he watched as Ramenman and Buffaloman donned the appropriate costumes suited for a fencing match. Kevin let out a low huff. He tapped Mantaro on the back with his foot, but there was not so much as a twitch of recognition or retaliation from Mantaro. He tapped again, but this time with more force. Mantaro still did not retaliate. Kevin soon rolled his eyes and gave a sigh, as he muttered out:
“How’d I end up on your team?”
“Because they felt sorry for you and wanted to give you a handicap.”
Mantaro slid further along his seat, just far enough that the foot could not reach him. Kid laughed and slapped a hand on Mantaro’s shoulder, as he whispered out a ‘good one’, and Scarface simply offered a half-smile that brought a twinkle to his eyes. Kevin flushed beneath his mask, while his hands gripped tightly to the edge of his seat. The knuckles turned white under his gloves, and his breath came out in one long exhale, as his eyes narrowed on the man in front of him. He swallowed back a lump that formed in his throat. He scoffed.
“I – You -!” Kevin bit into his cheek. “Do you really think you could be better than me?”
“I think fencing is a valid lesson and I want to learn,” countered Mantaro.
“You want to learn? Bollocks!”
“Look, it’s not easy being a chojin, and our powers can’t exactly stop a bullet or a blade or poison or any other number of insidious and underhanded tactics. I’m not just a chojin, but a prince. I grew up having to learn self-defence, and I hated it at the time, but I’ve learned a lot since we went back to the past and since we saw what happened to Chaos . . . it’s not enough to be strong. We need to learn to handle all kinds of situations.”
“We’re only as strong as the weakest link of a chain,” added Seiuchin.
“Exactly! I spent so long being weak; I might not have been it physically, but I relied too much on other people to pull me through . . . I was lazy. I relied on Meat, then on the Ruralman, and then even on Chaos. I could have been better . . . no, I should have been better! I’m going to make my dad proud. I’m going to win the next Chojin Olympics; I’ve got to give this my all.”
Kevin huffed. He leaned back on his seat, while he gazed back to the sparring match in the centre of the gymnasium. There were no more words said, even as the match got underway and rules were explained by the announcers, and – as Kevin strove to ignore Mantaro – Kid opened a packet of peanuts and threw one upward. He caught it in his mouth, before throwing another peanut, and soon a game was made out of how many he could catch, despite the lesson being clearly underway before them. Kevin took in a deep breath and asked him:
“Wouldn’t shooting be more useful, if it’s a matter of self-defence?”
“If they won’t let us have blades, they won’t let us have guns,” replied Kid.
“Hmm, very true.” Kevin smiled behind his mask. “I used to think you yanks would have a huge advantage, what with your constant need to shoot things, but considering your dad lost his leg to one single bullet -? Well, I wouldn’t want to chance you being around loaded weapons either.”
“Hey, you leave my papa out of this!”
“Tell me, how did he even manage that? Did he willingly offer up his leg?”
Kid lunged forward. Kevin made no move to escape, as he continued to stare at the mock match between their mentors, and his foot continued to kick at the backs of those in front of him, while a smirk passed over his lips behind his mask. Scarface was quick to react. He threw out a hand on the other side of Kevin, where he caught Kid by his head and held him back. It required little force, but a small squeeze to his temples acted as a clear warning, and – with a hard shove – knocked him back into his seat. Scarface turned to spit at them in a loud voice:
“Will you two stop bickering?”
“He started it,” both said in unison.
“Yeah, well, I’m finishing it!” Scarface rolled his eyes. “Besides, ain’t no way you can dodge a bullet, and it’s not like Justice Chojin are supposed to wield weapons. There’s no way that they’ll be teaching you fools how to maim people . . . ain’t guns illegal here, anyway? It makes more sense to learn self-defence against stuff you have a chance defending yourself against.”
“We could use paintballs,” said Kevin.
“Actually, that’d help in teamwork,” added Kid. “We could form teams and try to take out one another, as a way to learn how to work with each other . . . could even learn camouflage, makeshift defences, tactical placements . . . never hurts to learn how to load a gun, too, in case –”
“This is Japan, not a battlefield!” Scarface spat.
“Will you guys shut up?” Mantaro chided.
They looked down. Mantaro was red about his skin, with a visible pout about his mask, and his arms were folded across his chest with such force that his veins stood prominent. He was trying to concentrate . . . him! Kevin sighed, as he kicked at Mantaro again. There was a twitch at the corner of Mantaro’s eyes each time Kevin kicked at him . . . kick, twitch . . . kick, twitch . . . it could have been used as a metronome for all its accuracy and rhythm.
The match continued in the gymnasium, with a series of thrusts and slashes, and Ikemen provided a constant commentary for the benefit of the younger chojin. It proved dull to someone well versed in fencing, but it soon came to a stop when a particularly good movement left Buffaloman gaining the upper-hand over Ramenman. Ramenman lost his grip over his sword. It flew high into the air, before it landed on the floor, and – with several impressive twirls – slid with great speed until it came to a stop beside Mantaro’s feet. It wobbled a little in its place.
“Well, this is an easy tournament anyway,” said Kid.
“Hmph, not for you,” spat Kevin. “Fencing is a fine art that requires years of dedication, research, and practise. It can’t be mastered in just a day! I seriously doubt some common yank with beef for brains and a phobia of germs is going to know how to lift a rapier.”
“Oh, but some pretentious – what’s that word – ‘twat’ . . . yeah, that’s it . . . some pretentious twat like you will know how to fence? I bet you used to fence every day after your tea and crumpets, just afte’ you visited the queen and before you got that stick removed outta your ass. Now, ah might not be a gentleman like you, but I can lift up a goddamn sword.”
“Well, can’t be any worse than Mantaro or Seiuchin. Can you imagine how much hard it must be to move with all that blubber? Look how studious they’re watching the match, too. I’d be trying to memorise every move, as well, if I were that inept at life.”
“Hey, they’re my friends!”
“Yes, which is why you’re just as useless as them.” Kevin sighed. “They’re a bad influence on you, Kid. If you didn’t throw away your chance at the Olympics, maybe I could have faced you in the ring instead of an easy win against Mantaro. One of these days, I’ll get a real challenge from one of you lot . . . until then, I’m stuck watching people play at sword-fighting.”
Mantaro stood. He clenched his fists at his sides, with the knuckles now white. The muscles were tense in his forearms, and the veins looked ready to burst, but he remained where he stood with a remarkable stillness and balance. He stared hard at the ground, while Ikemen spoke to the two groups about what went wrong in the match . . . how to improve, what to learn . . . all eyes were on Ramenman and Buffaloman, without a single look in the direction of Mantaro. Kevin asked:
“Are you finally going to take a stand?”
A strange silence swept over the gymnasium. The question was just loud enough to attract the attention of the chojin on their side of the room, and those turned heads in turn attracted the attention of the chojin opposite them, followed finally by the attention of their instructors. A few seconds passed . . . almost a minute . . . finally, Mantaro reached down and took the sword. It was weighted well in his hand, and led too Kid asking with a chuckle:
“You gonna teach ‘im a lesson, Mantaro?”
“Like that bloody buffoon could teach me anything about –”
There was no time to finish his sentence. Mantaro cut off Kevin mid-sentence, as he ran straight into the centre of the gymnasium, and practically lunged at Buffaloman, until – with a feint – missing an oncoming blow and striking back with a counter-attack. Buffaloman still held his sword, but it only took a few moves from Mantaro for him to lose his grip. The sword tumbled from his fingers. Mantaro snatched the sword and tossed it to Seiuchin.
Seiuchin caught the sword with ease, and – as Mantaro ran back – quickly struck at Kid and Scarface in rapid succession. The foam ‘blade’ ran across both their necks, without any permanent damage and barely even registering as a touch, and Kevin half-turned his head to follow the movements of Seiuchin. It was all the opportunity Mantaro needed. The brief distraction allowed Mantaro to lunge at Kevin, where he stopped with the point of his sword just a mere inch away from Kevin’s heart, and – as he froze and panted – Ramenman called out:
“Mantaro Kinniku! It’s not your turn!”
“You have to always expect the unexpected,” said Mantaro. “It was you who taught me that, Mr Ramenman. Your enemy will come at you from any direction, at any time, and you have to know that they may resort to underhanded tactics. It’s up to us to always uphold the standards of justice, while always bearing in mind that others will not be so virtuous.”
“A good lesson to teach your classmates, Mantaro.”
“Plus, if this were a real battle -? If we were real villains -? Seiuchin would have killed Kid and Scarface, and I’d have Kevin at my mercy right now. They underestimated us, especially Kevin, because we sometimes act goofy and look weak, but we’re not . . . we’re not.”
Kevin blinked. He looked between the sword point and opponent, where the blade was exactly as specified and his friends on either side officially ‘downed’, and – looking to Mantaro – there was only a stern expression filled with focus and determination. Kevin gently lifted his arm, before he pushed away the point of his sword with the back of his hand. The two remained silent, while their classmates stared at the existing conflict. Kevin felt their eyes all on him, each one waiting and watching and anticipating some dramatic fight, but – instead – he simply said:
“I’m sorry, Mantaro.”
“You’re . . . sorry?”
“Yes, I’m sorry.” Kevin sighed. “You got me fair and square. I was cocky, after so many wins, and I underestimated you for all the wrong reasons. Don’t get me wrong, I still think you have a long way to go, but clearly . . . I have a long way to go, too. I’m sorry.”
“Well . . . if you’re that sorry, I could do with a sparring partner.”
Mantaro wore a warm and genuine smile. It was at odds with his previous rage, and yet there was still a hint of frustration that lingered behind his eyes, as if the lingering fire was fuelling his need to defeat Kevin in an even match between two equal opponents. Kevin laughed. He spun out of his seat and evaded the point of the sword with ease, before easily snatching it from Mantaro with a couple of quick hand movements. The sword was now pointed at some distance from Mantaro, while Kevin signalled with his other hand for Mantaro to come forward, and – as Mantaro simply stood with gaping open-mouth – Kevin said through laughter:
“Just so you know: I studied fencing, too.”
Seiuchin tossed his sword to Mantaro, who caught it in a single hand. The two groups of chojin were now off their seats, standing around for a better view of the ensuing one-on-one match, while Ikemen simply pinched the bridge of his nose and Ramenman smiled from afar. Mantaro aimed his sword at Kevin, as the two circled one another and waited for the other to make the first move, and – both smiling, both laughing – Mantaro shouted out:
“Bring it on, Kevin!”