Disclaimer: Ultimate Muscle/Kinnikuman II/Kinnikuman Nisei and whatever other names it might have does not belong to me.
Show Them All
By Fanficworm
I have seen the way they have all looked at me. I have seen the rolling eyes, the quivering shoulders and the smirks they would develop when Master Sunshine would announce that Tyrannoclaw and I will avenge them, the old dMp. I have heard the chuckles and sometimes laughter accompanying those looks on their faces. I have sensed their lack of confidence in Tyrannoclaw and me, and I have been long acquainted with their collective belief Master Sunshine hath gone mad.
It causeth me to wonder how on earth Master Sunshine can possibly consider them his friends. Methinks old age hath felled more than just his looks. Or perhaps he is not able to make new friends and so doth remain with them.
Whatever the case, his friends do not realise I notice the looks and the laughter, for they think I am but a mere ignorant child. I do notice, however. I always have and always will notice everything around me. 'Tis part of my training to be observant of my surroundings, after all.
Why I will avenge Master Sunshine's team-mates along with him despite their boorish behaviour, I know not. I suppose I hate the Muscle League for all the years of torment they have caused me in my preparations of my future battles with them. I suppose I am fighting them not only because of my hatred, but also to show to Master Sunshine's friends I am not a lost cause, that he was not mad to take me on as an apprentice.
I suppose I also still foolishly cling to the childish hope there is a chance Master Sunshine will treat Tyrannoclaw and me better when we—or just I—defeat the Muscle League. I suppose, despite my training to block out all form of emotion, I feel I have a sentiment of loyalty to Master Sunshine. I suppose, in contemporary terms, I "owe him one" for all he hath done for me, and that avenging him and his uncouth friends is my way of repaying my debt to him.
But perchance the anticipation of fighting the Muscle League causeth me to suppose in excess, and I am not fighting my opponents for any of these reasons.
Still, I am sure I shall not fight for the reason I unintentionally make everyone believe. I know for a fact that I shall not fight to avenge the old dMp; they are not worth the time and effort, save perhaps for Master Sunshine. There is a better chance of my joining the Muscle League.
"You look scared about your match tomorrow, Check," Tyrannoclaw chideth from the ringside seat next to me, opening and closing his Jurassic head, and then morphing it to a claw, then back to a head. "Heh. Don't bother worrying. I'll beat them all to pulps before you can even get a chance to change back into your true form."
He snapeth the head's jaws together, smug. "I am a super heavyweight, you know, and they're all around the lightweight division except for Wally. Do the math. I can't lose."
I frown. "Just because we have captured Terry Kenyon, it meaneth not thou hast no chance of losing." I look up at the ceiling; 'tis dark by most people's standards, but just right for me, if not a little bright. At times 'tis eerie what living in a cave can do to someone, and when we defeat the Muscle League we shall no longer have to live in a cave. "Thou must spend this time preparing for thy match on the morrow."
"Ha! Kenyon's a featherweight and a pushover with weak moves, just like his dear old daddy. I don't need to prepare." A muffled cry of outrage cometh from the ring, most probably containing American expletives. I ignore Kenyon's outburst. Tyrannoclaw also did not acknowledge the exclamation, apparently, for he speaketh as if the American was not even physically present, "Besides, you're one to talk. Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?"
I nod. "Yea, but sleep evadeth me. Somehow I find myself pondering on the reason we are fighting the Muscle League."
Snap. Chuckle. Laugh.
"We're fighting them to avenge the old dMp." Another chuckle. "And I thought I was slow. Master Sunshine only said that—oh, I dunno—a trillion times?"
"No, not the reason why Master Sunshine maketh us fight the Muscle League, but why we agree to fight." I turn my gaze to him to see he is still playing with his Jurassic head. My frown intensifies, not because of his lack of attention—growing up, he never paid full attention to anything—but because of his answer. "Thou art not honestly fighting to avenge those buffoons Master Sunshine calleth his friends, art thou?"
He ceaseth his playing and instantly looketh on me as if I have gone mad. "No way. They're jerks. I just wanna rub a win in their faces. Show them I can actually beat someone, you know?"
His almost wistful expression suddenly changeth into a grimace, and he looketh back to his Jurassic head. "Nah, course you wouldn't. You're the great Checkmate, after all."
"And what dost thou mean by that remark?"
He turneth to me, rolling his eyes as if I were the thickest person in the galaxy. "Oh quit playing dumb, Sir Chess Champion. We all know about your practice matches. You wouldn't know anything about losing a match and hoping to prove yourself in a victory. Never have, never will."
He maketh the head speak in a high pitch, much like the puppets from times of yore about which I have read, only in a fake British accent almost impossible to hear with a straight face. "Ooh, looketh at me. I am Checkmate and I knoweth nothingeth of losingeth a match. I careth not for the fact that I have been scorned my whole life, and I shall fighteth to avengeth unworthy jerks regardless. Ooh."
I gaze back at the ceiling. Fine. Let him believe I do not understand his feelings, despite the fact we have known each other since before we could remember. I am too drowsy to bother fighting him.
Besides, I care not of his opinion. He will suffer defeat on the morrow at the hands of Terry Kenyon, unlikely as that is. I know he will lose; call it a premonition.
When that doth occur, I will change into my true form and win all my matches. The obtuse beliefs Master Sunshine's "friends" have about me and the rest of the Nightmares will finally occur to them to be wrong.
They will regret underestimating us. Most especially will they regret underestimating me, for I will show them. I will show them my full power. I will show them my true mettle. I will show them my glorious victories, and never again will they dare think I am a lost cause.
For I will show them all.