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djtenkuWord Count: 2, 518
Summary: Competition. The tiger arrives. Challenge, and a ghost.
Author's Notes:
“Jeez Shin, can you move any slower?”
“Well, I could’ve been ready if you hadn’t used up all the hot water, Kento!”
“I did not use it all!”
“You took thirty minutes!”
“Like twenty is!”
“I like to get squeaky and clean; I have a lot more to do!”
“Oh, and I don’t? I like to get ‘squeaky’ as you put it, too. Least I don’t primp in front of the mirror.”
“I know you don’t; you look wild as hell now.”
“That’s intended, Shin. We’re going to the BC, remember? Besides, you look like a raver.”
“Oh, real funny. Anyway, I’m going downstairs. Rowan must be tired waiting for us.”
Shin slowly descended the stairs that lead to the loft bedroom, fixing her cherry hair into two short pigtails, and adjusting her red long sleeved shirt that stopped at her midriff. The chains that hung from the back of her tight stretch jeans rattled until she reached the bottom step. “Sorry you had to hear all of that,” she said as she approached the living room, a few feet away to the lounging Rowan.
“It’s alright,” he said absently, flipping the channels on the tv. A moment later, he turned it off and rose, stretching. “So how long will it take for slowpoke to get ready?”
Shin shrugged loosely. “I’m not sure,” she answered. “He’s quite finicky when it comes to going to the BC. You look quite nice.”
Rowan blinked slowly, in clear apprehension. He didn’t quite think dark blue cargo pants, a white shirt, an unbuttoned all red plaid shirt, and black boots to be nice. Not to mention blue tinted square glasses that rested on the top of his raven hair. “Thanks,” he said after a moment. “You sure you wanna wear that? I mean it’s kinda cool outside.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said as she crossed over to the kitchen, gathering the keys. “Hurry up or else we’re leaving without you, Kento!” Shin yelled as she jiggled the keys. A moment later, she heard the sound of heavy footsteps rushing down the steps. “What took you so long?” she asked as he came to the final step.
Kento looked thoughtful, glancing at himself. Slightly worn blue and white sneakers, blue carpenter jeans and a black sleeveless undershirt, leaving his arms bare, showing his battle scars. He slicked back his still-damp ash blue hair. “Debating whether or not I should wear my patch,” he said, slightly disgruntled, pointing to his shut right eye.
“You’re driving,” Shin suddenly said as she tossed the keys to him. Kento gazed at her and she returned the look with a slight smirk.
Rowan coughed purposefully, breaking their gaze. “We got about ten minutes before the matches begin, and about twenty miles to travel.”
“Alright,” Kento said, turning to Shin, “if it pleases the Queen of England, I’ll wear the patch.”
Shin's smirk broadened as she walked past him, opening the door. “And as Queen of England, I ordain you to clean the kitchen when we get back.” She laughed in a haughty manner as she walked out of the door.
“Can’t argue with the Queen,” Rowan said with a smile as he also headed out the door. “Though there are loopholes in everything, even in higher order.”
Kento muttered as he turned off the lights and snagged a piece of paper that was laying on the coffee table. It read,
Never mention the Queen of
Miffed, he crumpled it up and threw it in the trashcan and turned out the final light, and closed the loft door.
-------------------------
He heard the clamoring – beckoning – of the steady gathering crowd; his audience. Tonight, he would have one last fight before going to the hellhole called
He glanced at some of the contenders that gathered in a semicircle a distance from him, taking most of the room in the locker room. Most of them were built; ‘bricks’ as he called them, while some others were ‘sticks’ and ‘straws’. All were staring at him with pure malice.
“We should break ‘em right now!”
“Thinks he’s so good that he doesn’t have to speak...”
“Maybe he’s one of those stupid deaf-mutes! Haha!”
Just keep your silence, he told himself as he stared back with an empty expression. You’ll show them soon enough.
A short, squat man entered the locker room, dressed in a referee’s uniform with a bowl filled with white pieces of paper. “Awright fellas, dig in. We’re going random tonight.” The men dug their paws into the bowl, leaving all but one. “What about you?” the man asked he stood up.
He made his way to the circle, ignoring the glares, and grabbed the last piece. He raised a bushy eyebrow. First Round. He glanced at a brick that made the gesture of slitting his throat, followed by brash laughter as the group walked out of the locker room.
He too, smiled a savage grin and walked out of the room, hearing the crowd roar.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Aw man, all of the good seats are taken!" Shin griped as she gazed over the railing that overlooked the deep underground arena. "Who would’ve thought half of the city would be here?"
"Must be some big-timers here," Kento surmised as he took off his eyepatch. "Any other time it’d be a few thousand here." He looked at Rowan questionably when he leaned over the rail, face paler than usual. "What’s wrong?"
"Your driving," Rowan muttered, trying his best not to lose his dinner. "I’m surprised the cops weren’t on us."
"Oh, you think that’s bad," Shin said, pointing a finger at Kento, "I have to deal with it everyday we’re late. It’s worse on the bike."
"Well you drive like a grandma!" he said defensively. "Always up on the steering wheel, not to mention you drive ten miles under the speed limit!"
Shin’s cheeks grew a rosy color and drew in air to start her rebuttal, but was interrupted by the darkening of the arena; the light shedding on the ring and the two corners.
The referee trotted out, along with two men, one whom was waving to the crowd as they acknowledged them, while the other had his arms across his barrel chest, smiling. All three entered the ring, and the two men stood opposite corners. As the referee was handed the mircophone, the feedback from it the chattering of the people.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" the referee roared, "Welcome to the fourteenth annual Stand Off! Our first round..." He pointed to a tall, bald man wearing black boxing trunks, trimmed in white. A rose tattoo covered his left bicep and the thorn branch extended to his digits, partially covered by bandages that wrapped around his hand. Under the rose was a banner marked ‘In memory of Maria.’ in gothic styling lettering.
"Standin’ in at six two an’ weighing one hundred four kilos, the underground champ of boxing in the super heavyweight division, Siad!" The crowd roared in response as he raised his hands, waving again, while the trio stood impassively, especially Rowan.
"He’s too proud," he muttered.
The squat man then pointed to the smiling man, who wore the red boxing trunks, trimmed in black. He had elaborate and fierce tigers painted on his taut biceps and large runes were etched on his back, running down his spine. "Standin’ in at six one an’ weighing ninety kilos, the newcomer this year, Xiong ‘The Siberian Tiger’ Lang!"
To his slight disappointment, Lang was greeted by harsh words and gestures. He still held the smile. Not yet, he told himself.
The referee gestured them in. "Ok, here are the general rules: there are none. First man to fall and stay down after the five second count loses. Automatic loss if you touch the outside of the ring. The winner moves on to the next round until the event of elimination. Understood?"
"Perfectly," Siad said, glaring at Lang with malice. Lang only nodded, still smiling.
"Alright." The ref waddled off and exited the ring, whistle in hand.
"There’s something about that guy that I don’t like," Shin said to Kento, who nodded. Something was amiss about this year’s tournament, he thought, and that guy was no exception.
"How come you didn’t join, Kento?" Rowan suddenly asked with a vague look of amusement.
He shrugged. "I just thought it’d be great to take a break. Y’know, watch."
"You said that last time," Shin said as she elbowed him gently.
The whistle blew, signalizing the beginning of the match. Siad circled around the seemingly oblivious man, fists raised. "You’re going down, Tiga," he said with a deep chuckle. "You’re not gonna stand a chance!" He threw a left hook, aiming for Lang’s jaw from the side.
"I beg to differ," he said quietly, as he grabbed the fist with his own hand, catching Siad in surprise. He increased the pressure until he heard the soft popping of bones.
Siad howled in pain as he released his hand, clutching his defunct hand. He stepped back. "You bastard!" he screamed as Lang started towards him. "You’re going to pay for that!"
Siad lunged for him rearing back his right hand for a hook, yelling. Lang sidestepped it easily and kneed him in the stomach, felling him. Before he reached the ground, Lang brought him up with a crunching uppercut that produced the sickening sound of bone crunching. Siad howled again as he landed hard on the ring’s surface, grasping his jaw.
"Seems that you can’t take pain well," Lang said almost sadly. "What fun are you if you can’t do that?"
"You son of a bitch!" Siad managed as he rose up from the ring. "You think this is funny? I’ll show you!" He raced towards him again, right fist raised. Siad blinked only once and his opponent was gone. Suddenly he was grabbed from behind and flew backwards, momentarily watching the lights before smacking the ground. Siad felt the back of his head leak open.
The crowd roared as Lang grabbed Siad’s neck and hoisted him up high in the air. "Maria, eh?" His voice was no longer soft, but gruff and savage. "Your wife?"
"What do you care?" Siad said.
"You’re going to meet her very soon," Lang said, smiling savagely. He rammed Siad’s head into the metallic pole, cracking it further and tossed his lifeless body out of the ring.
The crowd was silent before bursting into wild cheers and clamor as the whistle blew again.
Shin covered her mouth in shock, Rowan was still stoic, not sure what he had seen, and Kento was genuinely stunned; all three watched as the paramedics carried off the fallen boxer. The referee got into the ring, careful of the blood, shaking his head.
"Ladies and gents on the behalf of the committee and the event of death, the 14th annual fight has been cancelled..." The people erupted into protest, throwing drinks and various small items into the ring. "Now-"
Lang reached over, plucking the microphone from the ref’s hands and waited several minutes for the audience to settle down with a solemn look. Their reaction was dissatisfying; he had hoped they would be bowing down to him, like all of the other places. "Is this the best you have for me?" he asked. "I came here for a fight, and I killed a man so easily; like a fly. What makes you think the tournament should go on? It can’t; there’s no competition for me. It has every right to be cancelled. There cannot be a winner this time."
He paused and the savage grin returned as he searched the ring with bright black eyes. "However, if you do feel like you can defeat me, feel free to do so. I’ll give you thirty seconds."
The crowd murmured, not sure what to decide on.
"Thirty seconds, huh?"
Shin and Rowan turned to Kento, who had a smirk on his scarred face. "Someone has to answer the challenge, y’know." He turned for the steps, leaving them reeling. A moment later, they followed him.
"How can you let him do that?" Rowan whispered. "He’s going-"
Shin raised her hand, silencing him. "There’s some lines I don’t cross; this is one of them. I can only support him."
Rowan start to say something else, but kept his silence as they reached the bottom.
Lang’s smile broaded as he saw Kento enter the ring. "So, the former champion steps up, eh? You must feel proud," he said icily.
"Save the bullshit for later," Kento said, cracking his knuckles. "You put out a call and I’m answering it. Let’s go."
"As you wish, Kento." Lang tossed the microphone back to the ref. The referee waddled off again, sliding off the ring. The crowd, satisfied roared again. Before the match began, a low, menacing voice shouted out Lang’s name, catching his and everyone’s attention.
Lang growled as he laid sight on a white haired man wearing a long, solid blue robe and white pants, wearing black shades and with a stern expression; a younger, brown haired man who wore a black flak jacket and green camoflagued pants, playing with a lighter; and a tall, slender black haired woman who wore a all white gown, looked away. "What are you three doing here?" he snarled. "I thought I told you to wait!"
"We have no time left," the white haired man replied. "We must go now!"
"Damn you, Taka!" Lang exclaimed. He turned to Kento and pointed. "This isn’t over."
"Don’t start anything you can’t finish," Kento said as Lang exited the ring. "You’ll build a bad rep like that."
"Oh, where I’m going, rep will not matter at all."
As the group walked pass the ring, Rowan gave them a glance. The woman noticed him and stared back with piercing green eyes as she walked by in a near curious manner. She mouthed something before turning away and walking out of sight.
"What an asshole," he heard Kento say as he stepped out of the ring. "All that talk and barely a show!"
"Well, there’ll be a next time," Shin said.
"I’ve got a bad feeling about all of this," Rowan said, breaking his silence. "Something is not right here."
"About what?" Shin asked, curious.
"Everything." That woman seemed too much like - Rowan shook his head, clearing the thoughts in his head. "Just forget about it. It’s almost a full moon; you know how I am."
"Well, what you need," Kento started, "is sleep. You look like you’re about to pass out again. C’mon, let’s go back before there’s a police raid..."
The trio started for the stairs again, mixing in with the disgruntled crowd. Rowan suddenly piqued, "Shin, you drive this time. I don’t wanna die on the way back."
"Are still on that? I’m not that bad of a driver!" Kento exclaimed. "Why get Grandma on the steering wheel? We’ll never get back home..."
