by Brandon Chen
The man stormed forward as if he had no time at all, but his smile also showed that he had not a care in the world for anyone as he kicked sand onto their picnic blanket. He stopped before them with two of his men positioned behind him. His black hair had come over his eyes and spiked upward into the air, and he looked only in his thirties with his teeth showing a sly smile.
The features of his face did not age a bit over the years. He put one hand on his hip. He wore different attire from the rest of his men. He had a black shirt that exposed his muscles, squeezing his arms to make them bulge all the more, looking as if he were suffocating his own flesh. A black belt was wrapped tightly around his waist, inscribed with some type of golden text that Noah had not been able to make out. His pants drooped to the ground, ripped and tattered, as if he had borrowed a slave’s clothing. But what caught young Noah’s attention were his eyes—those glowing red eyes that could make anyone stare at them in absolute wonder. The two rubies that gleamed brighter than any gems in all of the kingdoms and all of the continents, filled with the glow of life. He smiled and spoke to Zylon, Noah’s father.
Zylon looked the same as he did now and retaliated with some words that were muffled in Noah’s memory, incapable of remembering any specifics. Then Noah watched as horror after horror took place.
Kuro moved forward to strike Zylon, knocking Noah’s father to the earth with a single flick of his hand. He raised his fist to smash Zylon into the ground once more, but Noah’s mother leapt between them, latching onto the Hayashi man’s arm. Kuro glared at her with annoyance and swatted her with the back of his hand, sending her back into the ground. He burst out with laughter at the woman’s insolence. This was the first and last time that Noah had ever seen his mother humiliated and downgraded in such a horrible way that he could hardly watch. Yet, watch he did, with his lips quivering and tears filling his eyes. He could do nothing but sit there and watch as Kuro drew his blade in annoyance.
Zylon had gotten up and was ready to lash forward at Kuro but was grabbed by the other Bounts who slammed him down into the ground, as Noah watched helplessly, apparently forgotten. Zylon screamed, kicking and thrashing as if he were a little boy trying to break free. The word that left his lips was clear and painful to hear: “NO!”
Noah turned to Kuro and saw that the man was now looking straight at him with a vile smile spread from ear to ear. He thrust his gleaming steel downward into Noah’s mother, the most beautiful woman in the world. As blood sprayed into the air, young Noah grew numb, oblivious to what was happening. He heard her blood-curdling scream but just stood there, the bread still in his mouth, though he wasn’t chewing. A pool of blood began to form underneath her body, soaking into her rich silks as her voice died and Zylon’s cries replaced it. The young boy stood there with shock in his eyes, turning to see Zylon watching with a look of despair.
Noah’s day had transformed entirely as he lowered his head and tears began to stream down his cheeks, realization taking its place. He sobbed and sobbed, but the men wouldn’t stop beating his father. And they wouldn’t bring back his mother. All that he could do was cry.
***
General Mundo watched as the boy’s eyes went blank, the color erased from his irises. His skin began to pale as he shook furiously as if there were an earthquake. The general glanced at Danzo, who was performing some type of magic through these mystical chains that came from his sleeve. He smiled as the chains went limp and retracted back into his cloak as quickly as they had come, leaving Noah completely limp.
The boy’s face smashed into the dirt as he fell unconscious, lying there.
General Mundo looked at Danzo with a questionable stare. “Is everything all right, Lord Danzo?”
“Yeah,” Danzo said, “when you enter someone’s head, you witness their memories and their pains. You share their mind and feel everything that they have felt. Their frustration, their agony, their pain, their sorrow. All of it. I suppose it’s this particular magic that has left me withered and rickety like an old, used toy for Kuro. Nevertheless, I’ve found a location for Keimaro Hayashi, and I have everything I need. However,” he said, raising his head, “the information will be disclosed at the opportune moment. The Bount organization doesn’t strike until the time is right. And now is not the time. We will let their band of assassins do as they wish until we are ready. For now, release the boy. He is not a threat. Not anymore.”
***
Zylon sat at his desk with a sullen look on his face as he received the news of his son’s capture. No doubt Noah was dead. That fool. How could he possibly have let himself be captured like that? He lowered his eyes with a sigh.
At a faint rustle, he looked up and saw Yuri, Yata, and Gavin standing in the room. He turned to Yata and Gavin. “The two of you witnessed his falling, correct?”
“Yes, sir,” Gavin said respectfully.
“I reached out to him,” Yata said, “but he didn’t take my hand. Instead, he let the rocks come down. There was a chance, but….”
“He didn’t take it.”
“Yes.”
Zylon shook his head, closing his eyes as he finally felt age bearing down upon him. For once, he felt like an old man. He spun around on his chair to face his large window, looking out at the green gardens behind him so that his assassins could no longer see his face. “Not particularly the best first expedition out into the city, I suppose,” he said, his voice weak. He had learned to control himself for the most part after having lived for several centuries. He had lost many of his good friends in that amount of time. He was used to this numbness that he currently felt. “Was the mission a success?”
“Yes, sir,” Gavin said. “The demonstrating and testing of chemicals on live humans is inhumane and should be stopped immediately. The government is being selfish. To make an ultimate empire based on magic would be effective, but the costs are beyond imagining, treating humans as if they are lab rats. Treating the homeless, maids, and slaves as if they are nothing more than animals to be tested on is wrong. They are still human. I will fight beside you. You have my sword,” he announced, though his voice showed insecurity, as if he weren’t sure if his own life meant much anymore. “I believe that it is my fault for his death, sir. I will take full responsibility. If I had not wanted to go down there into that lab….”
“You brought something back with you, didn’t you?” Zylon interrupted, trying to change the conversation from his son. “A human that has been tested on, but survived, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re awfully polite,” Zylon said, spinning back in his chair, his hands on his desk as he leaned forward toward the assassins. “So? What exactly do you have for me?”
Yuri took a step forward and began to speak. “It seems that it is a human with supernatural capabilities, Z. I don’t know what to say about it, but somehow it managed to survive. Its body enables it to actually use two different types of magic at the same time, something that usually isn’t capable unless it steals its magic from a foreign power that isn’t from this world, like Keimaro or Kuro,” he said, and Zylon’s body stiffened.
“How is that possible?”
“We don’t know,” Yuri said. “Lena is examining it now.”
Zylon nodded and turned around once more to face the window. “Get some rest. Tonight is the public announcement of Keimaro. We need to be prepared for it. Noah’s capture will not delay us, for this is a very rare opportunity for everyone to be grouped up like this. Make sure you’re ready.”
“All right,” Yuri said, “but there’s one more thing. The lab experiment’s eyes. They have the Shokugan. It seems that she could be from the Hayashi clan.”
Old Rivalries
Keimaro gulped down a piece of meat as he walked through one of the public doors with Aladdin. The door beside it had been completely surrounded with people, assassins lining up simply to access it. He hadn’t seen why it was so popular, but the door that he and Aladdin had entered was completely
empty. On the other side of the magic door was a dark corridor with torches lighting the path before him and shadows creeping along the walls. The door closed behind him, and he could see a light at the end of the hallway, bright white. His shadow traveled along the dirty stone walls as he followed Aladdin, his boots crunching on the sandy floors, which seemed to be made of some type of clay. His heart was pounding at the roaring cheers of what sounded like thousands of people. “Where are we going?”
“To the arena,” Aladdin answered.
Keimaro blinked and stopped at a door to the right of the hallway that Aladdin pushed open to reveal a massive array of weapons similar to the weapons room that Z had kept on the upper floor next to his office. He shook his head, pushing his cloak to reveal his sheathed sword at his side. Aladdin nodded in understanding, closed the door to the weapons room, and continued down the hallway.
“It sounds like there’s so many people,” Keimaro muttered.
“There’s a lot,” Aladdin said with a chuckle. “It’s the main entertainment around here. We fight each other to become stronger, yes? We spar and use our magic to create even more devastating fights. Watching them is breathtaking and makes us wonder what we can do. Taking place in them helps you find out how strong you are, and also how weak. Buu has been challenging and fighting in this arena for a while now, and he has defeated everyone he’s come across. He’s bloodthirsty for some real competition. I hope you’re ready to give it your all.”
“How in god’s name can an arena fit inside of a mansion?” Keimaro wondered aloud. But that wasn’t really what was on his mind. Buu is the champion around here? He must’ve gotten a lot stronger from when we were kids. Does he have magic? If Buu had obtained the title of champion amongst a population of magical assassins, he truly must’ve had something to offer.
“How can you conjure flames from your body? Why don’t you ask the gods? Magic.” Aladdin guffawed at his comment as they reached the end of the hallway, where an iron gate stood before them.
Keimaro was blinded for several moments as an artificial sun seemed to shine down from the sky. The more he wondered about how they fit this arena in here or how the sky was so blue or how the sun shined so like to the real one, the more he confused himself. Magic didn’t have to be explained, he supposed; it was just a wonder. His eyes looked outward in awe and saw a stretching sandy plain that was scorched with flames. Stands surrounded the entire battlefield with seats, and people filled every inch of the area as they cheered, thrusting their hands into the air at the battle before them. Keimaro scoffed. This wasn’t much of a place to train. This was a gladiator arena.
Keimaro saw a girl in the arena with long blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes. She danced through the air, leaping gracefully with elegant flips that even Keimaro was sure he couldn’t perform. She landed on her feet, whipping a skinny rapier with fast jabs at the air. As he watched, the jabs became physical light, transforming into golden energy as they fired small, needle-like projectiles at her target across the battlefield. The boy’s eyes scanned the arena and finally locked onto the person he sought: Buu.
Buu was easily recognizable, not losing a single bit of his ladies’ charm. His curly brown hair had gotten a bit longer, and his glowing blue eyes matched Aladdin’s, making him look as if he were of some noble descent. His lips were thick, and his skin lacked a single scar or mark upon it, as smooth as a baby’s. He wore no top, exposing his large, toned muscles in the sun. His skin itself was a crispy tan from clearly spending much time in the sun—and perhaps too much time fighting in the arena. He smiled with the thrill of battle, and Keimaro could see the fire in his eyes.
The former bully had leapt through the air with elegance and flipped, landing on the ground as the daggers of light flew underneath him, burying themselves into the stone wall behind him. They flickered for a moment and then died out, shattering into gleaming pieces of light before disintegrating entirely. It was as if they had never been there. The former bully’s feet planted heavily into the dirt as he grinned. His entire body vanished.
Keimaro’s eyes widened, unable to spot where Buu had gone. Was that his magical ability? Teleportation? As he watched, Buu appeared behind the girl, driving his fist solidly into the girl’s back. She gasped and staggered forward, swinging her rapier, but Buu was already gone. Keimaro stared, incredulous. This is insane.
Buu teleported all around the girl, barraging her with unpredictable patterns of rapid punches and kicks, his knuckles smashing relentlessly into this poor blonde girl as her rapier continuously met open air, incapable of predicting where he would be next. Finally, Buu appeared across the arena. He was winding up his fist, spinning his arm to gain momentum while his opponent was swaying, barely conscious. She raised her rapier in some attempt at defense, but Buu’s teleportation was too fast. He had already begun to swing his fist while across the battlefield, but he teleported with perfect time. He reappeared in front of the blonde girl with his fist already in motion, cracking across the poor girl’s face and sending her spinning wildly through the air to land on her back, gasping for air. The crowd roared with amusement as boys and girls of multiple ages leapt to their feet and cheered for the champion, clearly thirsty for more bloodshed.
“So?” Aladdin asked. “Are you ready?”
Keimaro didn’t answer the noble as he stomped forward. His hands touched the metal with such burning heat that the gate melted, turning into a glowing, red, molten liquid and creating an opening. The metal glowed like bright lava and receded. He stepped through the opening and heard the crowd of entertained assassins go silent as he moved forward onto the sand before anyone was even able to retrieve the girl from the danger zone. The dirt crunched underneath his feet, sounding loud in the dead silence. He felt all eyes on him, but he didn’t care. He stopped before Buu, a wind ruffling his black hair so that it blew past his eyes. He could see the wild grin on the boy’s face.
“Ah, the gallant Keimaro Hayashi has blessed up with his presence!” Buu exclaimed, his arms in the air. The crowd went wild in response, cheering and stomping their feet, rumbling the earth around them. Buu’s eyes were wide, and he licked his lips. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I used to beat on your wimpy ass every day since grade school.”
“Yeah,” Keimaro said, unbuttoning his cloak and brushing back his cape. He took it off as Aladdin sauntered onto the battleground behind him. He tossed his cloak to the noble, who caught it with a questionable look, but didn’t complain. Then Keimaro pulled off his shirt to reveal his body just as Buu had so that they were on even terms. The girls in the crowd squealed with amusement as he tossed it to Aladdin as well. The noble rolled his eyes in disgust as he grabbed the unconscious blonde girl and dragged her away. “No armor, just like you.”
“You’re still picking fights with me, aren’t you?” Buu scoffed. “I’ve heard a lot about you, you know. Quite famous, you are. Taking the spotlight with your name, the last of the Hayashi clan. What a joke. You’re nothing but a bastard, an adopted child with no real parents. You’re of dirtied blood. You’re a Hayashi, a demon. Nothing but a monster and an abomination to us all. Why didn’t you just die off in the Bakaara massacre? I would’ve preferred anyone to survive but you and that blabbering idiot, Yata. Why did all of my friends and family have to die, but you had to survive? Huh?” he snarled.
Keimaro’s eyes morphed into a glowing red, filled with hatred. “I’m growing annoyed with you and your meaningless words. I came here to humiliate you, not make small talk about the past.”
“About the past?” Buu burst out in uncontrollable laughter, his head tilted back as he bellowed. “How can I forget the past? Have you forgotten it? Clearly not, otherwise you wouldn’t be here, would you? You and I are here for the same reason. We both want Faar to be destroyed for what they’ve done to our village and our families and friends. Every single one of my friends was killed! How ironic that you, the demon, survived along with your only friend! How funny is that? You see
, I know why Faar came on that day. They wanted you, Keimaro. The Hayashi clan massacre, I learned all about it. You survived, somehow. You survived! And they went to our village to finish the goddamn job! So, what are you doing here, huh? You should’ve killed yourself and been done with it already! None of us want you here. All you’ll do is attract the Faar soldiers to us and get us all killed just like what happened four years ago.”
Flames sparked around Keimaro and howled, gathering on his skin, but they didn’t burn him. Instead, they wrapped around him like tight armor as he felt hatred surge through him. “Rankle me no more with your pointless prattling. It’s about time that someone quelled your small title of champion. Your words are like pebbles being thrown at a wall,” he said, slowly unsheathing his sword. The blade scraped against his sheath as it entered the cool air, brandishing into the glowing sun. He whirled the weapon and held it out before him. I’ll destroy him. This is payback.
Buu’s face turned red with frustration, but he held his tongue. He reached behind him and pulled out two iron gloves that he slid onto his hands. He clenched the gloves, and the iron seemed to bend into movement with his hands, crunching as they curled. He slammed fist against fist, the metal gloves giving off a spark as they collided. “I’ll show you the difference between us in power. And this is perfect! You won’t have your little bodyguard, Yata, interfering with your battles any longer. He won’t be here to protect you this time!” He roared, rushing forward at Keimaro with incredible speed. His bare feet thumped against the sandy ground as he sprinted, his image becoming a blur.
Keimaro knew that Buu wouldn’t rush him directly. He would teleport and come from another direction. But from where, the sides, or behind? He turned around in a random guess but blinked when he saw that Buu had actually come from the right with his fist already in motion. Swinging his fist before the teleportation meant that Keimaro would have less time to dodge. Keimaro grunted as he swung around, the iron gauntlet missing his face by only several centimeters. He felt the force of the punch on his skin. Contact with that iron to the face was a frightening thought. He staggered away, disengaging from his opponent, his heart beating quickly. There was no way to actually escape Buu because he could just teleport across the entire distance in an instant, closing in on him. He had to be on his toes throughout the fight. There was not going to be a single moment when he would be safe.