by Unknown
Bunshichi again twisted his body half way around to the side. Souichiro's snake-like foot grazed past Bunshichi's torso on it's way up. Bunshichi rolled away over the grass. He made three complete revolutions and stopped upright on his knees. Souichiro's leg came in for an attack on Bunshichi's head just as he looked up. Bunshichi bent his left elbow and used it to absorb the attack. It had the same impact of someone striking as hard as they could with a wooden club. It was a piercing kind of attack that his bulky frame wasn't used to. Any normal person would be taken back by such an attack, wind up hitting themselves in the forehead with their own arm or having the bone of the elbow broken. But Bunshichi was able to absorb that power with his left elbow.
He then stood up. The attacks were immediate.
Fist.
Fist.
Elbow.
Foot.
Elbow.
Finger.
Fist.
Bunshichi managed to repel all of Souichiro's' attacks. He absorbed the blows with his elbows and knees, used his wrists to deflect others and his palms to push the rest aside.
[052]
However there was no time for him to form attacks of his own. If his attacks were anything short of perfect, he would instantly find himself in a grappling hold. Souichiro's attacks were impressive. You would never have guessed he was in his forties. Around the upper body he went for the manubrium, the sternum, the liver and the suture. Around the head he aimed for the temple, the philtrum, the mandible and the clavicle. They were swift attacks, perfectly aimed at the vital points of the body. Letting any of them connect would lead to a direct hit, and Bunshichi would most likely pass out from pain in no time flat.
Souichiro was as precise as a robot. There wasn't a single attack that was not made at full force. Bunshichi soon realized what he was up against. He still couldn't get into the rhythm of Souichiro's movements. He had been very light on his feet since the beginning. That's what Bunshichi was thinking about as he blocked all of Souichiro's attacks. He was the kind of man that wanted to use all the fighting moves he had been taught and bring his black blood to a boil while doing so. The type of human who thought he could utterly defeat his opponent with his sheer number of attacks.
Bunshichi smelt the stench that only a person who had learned ways of killing a man with his bare hands could make. Bunshichi knew it. He could smell his own kind. He just knew it. A sensation of excitement tingled swiftly up his spine. He couldn't help but let a smile form on his fat lips
.
[053]
Bunshichi could see the same kind of joy twinkling in the eye of his opponent. Souichiro's attacks weakened slightly, just for a moment. Bunshichi wasn't about to just let that opportunity pass by. He decided to make a kicking attack to try and throw off his Souichiro's rhythm. That was when it happened. The only thing Bunshichi saw was the back of Souichiro's head. That was the moment. The movement of kicking with his left leg started in Bunshichi's muscles. There was the quick movement of something coming up from beneath him with inhuman speed, as if it had predicted his attack. It was the left heel of Souichiro, who had turned his back on Bunshichi and lent forward. His heel was about to wedge itself into the gap between Bunshichi's thighs.
A heel-kick between the legs is enough to crush ones testicles and have them pass out from the pain. If unlucky, it could lead to death. Even if it didn't kill you, it would shatter your pubic bones.
“Nuuuh”
Whether it was a cry of fear, or the cry of an attack, Bunshichi himself didn't even know. Bunshichi thrust his hand straight down in the direction of his crotch. His hand met Souichiro's heel between his legs. There came a sharp sound. The two attacks canceled each other out. If Bunshichi didn't have the body weight that he had, there is no mistaking that Souichiro's heel would have pushed straight past his hand a crushed his testicles, if the sheer speed of the attack didn't kill him outright. This was a chance to win. Bunshichi jumped up above Souichiro, who was still bent over in the opposite direction. He put all of his weight behind his right elbow and came down on Souichiro's spine.
[054]
“Gyaaa!” Souichiro groaned as he spat out some phlegm. Their bodies sunk into the grass, one on top of the other. Bunshichi's left arm was wrapped around Souichiro's face, trying to force it to the right hand side. Bunshichi's thick arm covered most of Souichiro's face, from his right cheek to his chin. From there he pulled Souichiro's half turned head up towards his chest. Souichiro's spine and neck were bent all the way back. Souichiro tried to scream, but the voice was unable to pass his lips. Bunshichi had his left arm under Souichiro's armpit and left hand, from the outside. The hand of his left arm was spread out from Souichiro's armpit to his collar bone. His fingers were intertwined with those of Souichiro's left hand, which was wrapped around his face.
Just then there was a tearing sound. The sound came from Souichiro's shoulder which was wrapped in the muscle of Bunshichi's arms. It was like the sound a chicken wing makes when you take either part of the wing in each hand and pull them opposite directions, ripping it apart at the joint.
“Guuuh,” a muffled sound managed to pass through Souichiro's lips. The extreme pain pushed trough the obstruction of his throat. Souichiro was losing his ability to move. Bunshichi got up off of Souichiro and took a step back. He took a deep breath. And that's when it happened. Souichiro's body, which should have limp and lifeless, sprung forth from the long grass. With his left arm hanging loosely at his side. He made a 'V' shape with the middle and index fingers of his right hand and lunged towards Bunshichi's face.
[055]
He was aiming for Bunshichi's nose. If he managed to land the 'V' of his fingers on to Bunshichi's nose, they would slide up and hit his eyeballs. If he got his fingers in there, it would be direct, single strike attack, and Bunshichi wouldn't be able to turn his head away.
Bunshichi jerked his head to the side a split second before impact, and landed a heavy punch on Souichiros unguarded left cheek with his right fist. Souichiro was knocked over, but he got straight back up. He looked back at Bunshichi and spat out a mouth full of blood and chipped teeth. His blood soaked Bushichi's sweat pants an even darker shade and the tooth chips lay grainy against the cloth. Souichiro wasn't ready to give up.
Bunshichi gave Souichiro another blow from his heavy fist. Souichiro was again thrown backwards, and again tried to get back up. Bunshichi drove the heel of his left sneaker into Souichiros chest as he tried to get back up. The sound of cracking bone could be heard. Souichiro tried to get up again, but again Bunshichi drove his heel into the same place. Again there was the sound of cracking ribs. Souichiro finally stopped moving. His red mouth opened and his eyes gazed up towards the sky. He had been a decent challenge.
Bunshichi's body was shaking a little. Not even he knew how or why he was shaking. He took a deep breath and took a few steps back. He felt like they had been fighting for a half hour, but it would have been around five minutes at the most. Bunshichi looked up.
[056]
Tsutomu Himekawa stood under the cherry blossom tree. His expression hadn't changed from before. His eyes were like ice. A wry smile had formed on his lips. He slowly walked over to where Souichiro was lying face up on the ground. He bent down and took a look at him.
“He'll be OK. I didn't do enough damage to kill him,” said Bunshichi as he watched Souichiro slowly stand back up on the grass. The cuff of his black leggings were blowing in the wind and rustling against the long dry grass. He looked at Bunshichi through his squinty eyes.
“You wanna try again?” Bunshichi asked in a low voice.
“No, he doesn't,” Himekawa quietly answered back. It seemed that it didn't really matter to this long haired man if Souichiro had lost on behalf of his school.
“That was a terrific match,” said Himekawa, turning his glassy eyes towards Bunshichi.
“.......”
“May I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What was that
move you used with the headlock around his neck and left arm?”
“Oh, that...”
“I had never seen it before.”
“It's called the Chicken Wing Face Lock or something.”
“Chicken... Wing...”
“Face Lock,” said Bunshichi, finishing the sentence off for him.
“Interesting...”
“Yeah, I saw it on TV once,” said Bunshichi, the inflection of his voice made it difficult to tell whether he was joking or being serious.
[057]
“I think that I would very much like the chance to challenge you one day,” said Himekawa.
“Really?”
“Would I not make a worthy opponent?”
“Maybe.”
“I would really like to see you in the same condition you have left him,” said Himekawa. He made this bold statement as he let his vision turn back towards Souichiro.
“...”
“Well, everyone gets a turn, don't they.”
“A turn?”
“Yes. He has left a number of opponents looking just like you have left him. Today it was finally his turn.”
“Do you think I'll get a turn?” Asked Bunshichi.
“Someday,” Himekawa said, grinning.
“I think I might want to get out of here before it's my turn,” Bunshichi said to himself as he turned his back on Himekawa's smile. He stopped in front of Ryoji, who was still holding Bunshichi's bag. Bunshichi grabbed the bag out of his arms and gave him a light pat on the shoulder. Bunshichi's pat seemed to snap Ryoji out of the trance he he had fallen into. He had been shaking a little.
“So long,” Bunshichi said before walking in the other direction. Ryoji, who stood staring at Bunshichi's back for a moment, suddenly followed after him as if Bunshichi's farewell had flipped some kind of switch inside of him.
“Wait!” he yelled, “Wait for me! Bro! You can't just walk away and leave me here!”
Part One : The Duel
The End.
[058]
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[059]
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[060]
PART II: THE GRUDGE
CHAPTER I
[061]
It was nothing really. Saito's elbow had lightly bumped into the man standing next to him at the bar. The was talking Karate with Bunshichi. Saito was 20 years old and Bunshichi was 16. It was Saito who had invited Bunshichi out for a drink. Bunshichi had grown past 5 feet. His face had matured as well. He had grown some thick and unkempt facial hair making him look a lot older than 16. He looked even older than Saito, maybe 23 or 22 years old.
The bar was cramped. It had been built under a train bridge. There was only standing room inside the bar and you could fit maybe ten people inside at the most. Bunshichi was sitting to the right of Saito. They were drinking sake together. Around seven empty Sake bottles sat around them on the counter top. They had drunk about half each. Saito was a little more drunk than Bunshichi and Compared to Bunshichi's poker face, Saito was looking a little red in the face.
However it was Saito who overpowered Bunshichi in the Dojo. Even though Bunshichi was taller than him, Saito's foot had made a good sound when it hit the side of Bunshichi's head. Though they were having a conversation, Bunshichi was doing most of the listening.
Saito was talking mainly about his own martial arts accomplishments. He was letting Bunshichi hear about the number of fights he had in the past. Bunshichi had heard all his stories before. The empty Sake bottles would shake against each other and make a rattling sound every time a train passed overhead. He was talking about the time he had a fight with a member of the Karate club from some university.
“So, I knew he was going to try and kick me...” Saito bent his elbow into a the shape he presumably used to absorb the attack as he spoke. That was when Saito's left elbow came into contact with the right arm of the man standing next to him at the bar. The was gripping his glass of beer with his right hand. The freshly poured beer was filled all the way to the top. His drink spilled a little and wet the sleeves of his suit. He hadn't bumped him that hard. It was a light tap if anything. But is was enough to make a full beer spill over. Saito had half turned away from the man, lost in his own story. He didn't seem to have realized what had happened.
“Hey,” the man said in a low voice. Bunshichi realized that something had happened as soon as he heard that voice. Saito most likely heard it as well, but probably didn't realize that the man was speaking to him.
“Hey” The voice had more power the second time around. Saito felt someone place their hand on his shoulder. Saito finally realized that it was him who was being called on.
[062]
“What are you going to do about this?” the man asked.
“What?” Saito replied, clearly confused. He had no idea what the man was talking about.
“Look!” the man said, holding up his sopping sleeve. Saito still didn't get it. “It's beer,” the man said.
“It's beer?”
“You hit me with your shoulder and got beer all over my sleeve,” said the man.
Saito spoke before thinking.
“OK,” said Saito, bowing his head. He then turned his back on the man again to face Bunshichi and continue his story.
“What the hell was that?” the man said as put his hand back on Saito's shoulder, his voice now much more violent. Bunshichi watched as Saito's red face got even redder.
“What an asshole,” Saito said to Bunshichi, purposely raising his voice loud enough so the man would hear.
“You son of a bitch,” the man said as he squeezed his hand even harder.
“What the hell?” said Saito, ripping the man's hand off of his shoulder. Bam. There came a noise. Saito and the man both stood up. The chairs they had been sitting in were now halfway to the floor. The bar was cramped, so they stopped halfway, leaning against the wall of the room.
[063]
The man would have been around 25 or 26 years old. The was wearing a blue blazer over his shirt. He had his collar popped and open. He was wearing sunglasses. Bunshichi knew exactly what kind of opponent he would be.
If this type of guy came walking towards you out on the street, you would normally try to avoid making eye contact with him. He's the kind of guy who would pick a fight with a stray cat or dog if he could.
“Take it outside,” the owner of the bar called out form behind the counter. He didn't even bother to look up from the dishes he was washing. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. He spoke bluntly. “You can fight all you want outside,” he went on, his eyes still on his dishes.
Another man stood up behind them. He had been drinking with the man wearing sunglasses. He had brought him along.
“Takimoto...,” the man said, pulling at his arm. He put one hand in his pocket, pulled out a small wallet and placed it on the counter. He then took out a five thousand yen note. He left the money on the counter and returned the wallet to his pocket. He was still holding his friend with his other hand.
“I'll leave the cash here then,” said the man as he pulled at his friends arm. “ Let's go.” He pulled at Takimoto's arm again.
“Kijima,” Takimoto started, turning towards the man who held his arm. His tone showed dissatisfaction.
[064]
The man holding Takimoto's arm, Kijima, ignored the bar owner as he was about to hand him his change in coins and pulled Takimoto out of the bar by his arm. The cramped bar again fell silent. It felt subdued. Saito put his seat back up and sat down.
“Shit,” he said before emptying the remaining Sake from his cup to his mouth. “God damn punk.” He no longer felt like continuing his story from before. About ten minutes later they stepped out of the bar. The roads under the train bridge were dark. They walked out from under the bridge to the rear of the station, as opposed to the front. It was around half past ten at night. The street wasn't all that big. The streets were empty save the street lights that stood lonely b
y the wayside. The two of them were on a narrow asphalt sidewalk that was separated from the road by steel railing. Bunshichi and Saito were walking on the road. They had barely been walking for a couple of minutes before they heard a voice come from behind them.
“Hey!” it was the same voice as before. Bunshichi knew who's voice it was the instant he heard it.
“What?” Saito called back. The two men from before, Takimoto and Kijima, were standing there. Takimoto had taken off his sunglasses. He was looking at Bunshichi and Saito through narrow eyes. His eyes were dark and calm. He looked much more menacing than he did when he was wearing sunglasses. Takimoto chuckled.
“So, you were saying you know Karate,” said Takimoto as he walked over.