Ken and Ryu vs. The Mad Fox Spirits Of Tokyo
"Did you know that if you have a deep enough mastery of shotokan karate, you get the power to punch ghosts in the face?"
"Yes sensei!" Ryu said, bowing low.
"Uh huh." Ken said, half-listening. He was leaning against a tree, noodling around with the Game Boy he picked up a few hours ago in Aikhabara. He was rocking Mario on a device he could uncomfortably fit in the pocket of his too-tight jeans. 1989. What a wonderful age to be alive!
"Shotokan isn't just a way for you to rough up Yakuza," Sensei shot a mean look Ken's way. "Shotokan karate-do is a way of life. It's a philosophy of character and non-violence."
Ryu sat in rapt attention, fireworks of inspiration exploding behind his impassive stone-face. Ken missed a jump and sent Mario into a pit. "Uh huh."
"Shotokan is readiness. It is an extension of your spirit. Properly focused, it can reach into the world of the dead."
"Uh huh."
Sensei sighed. "Shotokan is a one-way ticket to the magical land of jet skis and hand jobs."
"Uh hu…what?" Ken dropped his Game Boy on the ground. It hit a stone. Something expensive and vital snapped.
"Ken! Pay attention!"
"I was, Sensei." Ken said, his voice wheedling and petulant.
"No he wasn't." Ryu mumbled under his breath.
"Shut up, kiss-ass!"
"Why don't you make me, gaijin?"
That did it.
Ken pounced on Ryu. Ryu, grinning, turned to face his assailant. Sensei let the fight go. They were teenagers. They'd been training on the mountain too long, and their testosterone was at an all time high. Sensei watched them work. Ryu took to the training with eerie technical proficiency. Ken had more natural ability, which shaved off some of the rough edges of his technique.
After they were done trampling through Sensei's meditation garden like a couple of horny rhinoceroses, Sensei shoved a couple of rakes into their hands and told 'em to tidy up the sand. Holding the rakes carefully with bruised fingers, the pair drew long grooves in the fine sand, circling carefully around the stones. As they worked, Sensei spoke.
"As I was saying, there are a lot of people who perceive martial arts as just a more efficient way to hit someone. Those people have a shallow understanding of what martial arts is. We train ourselves to become physically and mentally stronger, to abolish fear, accept weakness, and strive for the highest level of self-improvement."
"So, what are you saying? If we're pure enough of purpose we can interact with the world of the spirits?"
Sensei smiled. "You don't believe me?"
Ken leaned against his rake. "I dunno, Sensei. It all seems like esoteric bullshit to me."
"Why do you study martial arts, Ryu?"
Ryu sat down on one of the rocks. He moved very slowly and winced where the stone touched his bruised limbs. "I study shotokan to improve my mind and body and to achieve perfection of form and sincerity of action."
Sensei smiled. "Ryu…"
Ryu looked down. It took him a moment to speak. "I'm here because this is the only thing I've ever loved."
Sensei nodded. "Ken, why do you study?"
"Come on, Sensei…"
"I'm serious. Why did you drag your ass a million miles from home, put in all the effort learning piss-poor Japanese, and agree to live in an old mountain temple like a crazy person? And don't tell me it was just to possess a skill that firearms made obsolete a bazillion years ago."
Ken glanced at his sensei, but couldn't hold himself up to the man's gaze. He felt like he was being measured. The question was far too intimate. Ken slipped into his usual refuge: humor.
"I dunno. Chicks."
"Chicks?"
"Yep. Chicks dig musicians and fighters. I can't play guitar, so..."
Ken stirred his toes in the sand beneath him. The careful lines he'd drawn around a smooth obsidian stone flattened and fell apart. There was probably some metaphor there about fragile order destroyed by his nasty-ass foot, but he didn't feel like looking for it.
"Hopeless…" Sensei shook his head. He turned his back on his students and stalked up the old stone path toward the temple. "Finish cleaning this mess up before you go!"
"You got some blood on your collar."
"What!"
Ryu leaned over a nearby-parked Subaru and inspected his shirt in the sedan's side view mirror. The neon lights of the Roppongi clubs played havoc with his vision but he could see the stains on his pristine white collar.
"Shit. What should I do?"
Ken smiled at him. "Don't worry about it. Between that and the black eye, you look sexy dangerous."
"Hey, I'm not the one who started the fight with that sailor."
Ryu paused. The logic was infallible but Ken was missing the nuance. "Well, he provoked me. My English isn't that good, but I understand what 'Goddamned Jap' means."
"Hey, I'm just saying…"
"Why is it that I can never go out with you without getting into trouble?"
"Okay, that got a little out of hand, but it wasn't my fault."
It really wasn't. They were on their way to hit Soul Sonic Boogie, a nightclub where international crowds mixed and mingled amid a throbbing Eurotrash beat, when they ran into a half-dozen burly sailors. A frank and spirited cross cultural exchange occurred, followed by punching.
The conversation lulled for a few moments while Ryu fretted over his wide-collared club shirt. Ken got it for him when he went back to visit his family for the holidays. It was white, had wide lapels, and had a cheesy embroidered dragon stitched down the right breast. Ryu felt like a rock star whenever he wore it.
Ken watched the action along the street. His blood was hot and he was impatient to get to the club. All around him guys passed by in broad-shouldered business suits, optimistic salarymen looking to slum, tight-skirted drunk girl trying to land wealthy out-of-town gaijin. They threw appreciative looks his way. Running up and down the temple steps and hauling buckets of water were murder on his muscles, but Sensei's little tortures had their upsides.
"Did they get you?"
Ken stopped watching girls go by and probed his ribs. They stung a little. "I took a couple shots in the ribs, but nothing too serious. Sensei's warm ups are much worse."
"Yeah, no kidding." Ryu laughed and straightened up, readjusting his clothes. "You'd think a bunch of military guys would be better fighters."
"Well, they have other stuff to do as part of their job. It's not like you or I could run a battleship."
"Still, they should be better prepared."
Ken threw up his hands. "They were drunk, you know."
"That's no excuse."
They stood in silence for a moment straightening themselves out. Calloused hands kneaded on tender muscles, working the soreness out.
"Hey Ryu, do you ever think about what you're going to do with this stuff?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, we could wind up training guys in the military. Or doing movies. They'd love a couple of handsome, talented karate guys."
"I dunno." Ryu rolled his shoulders, felt the tension ease out of his spine. When he spoke, his voice had iron in it. "I think I'm going to be a student forever."
Ken said nothing. Years later, he would recognize this moment as the time he realized he and his best friend were on very different paths in life, ones that would forever separate them.
"Well, forget about it. Let's go have fun!"
"You train all the time? You must be very strong." The girl said. She reached out and slid her fingers down his chest. Her eyes widened. "Oooooh!"
Ken liked the way she moved her hands. He liked the way she smelled. He liked the way her sexy little body filled out that tiny little dress. He wanted to buy her a Camaro and make her his wife.
"Is that what brought you to Japan?" The girl traced lazy circles around his pecs with her slender index finger.
"Nah, baby. You did."
"Hm?" She arched an eyebrow.
"I came to Japan because some little voice inside my head told me I was going to meet you tonight." Ken slid his arms around her slim waist, felt her shiver at his touch. "I couldn't wait a minute longer."
The girl smiled up at him. Her smile was wide and hungry, little teeth tapering off into points. Ken made a mental note. He wanted to remember those teeth in case the night ended up the way he hoped.
Ken looked over at Ryu. He was sitting with the girl's friend on the other end of the couch. He said something and she laughed too enthusiastically. Ryu's game was…questionable, but he looked like a boy band-member with a samurai's build. Women took a look at him and started planning where to send their kids to elementary school.
The girl he was tossing game at…oh hell, what was her name again?…watched Ryu chatting up her friend. The woman draped her hand on Ryu's shoulder and leaned in, pressing her breasts against his arm. Ryu blushed bright red and then she slid her hand on his knee.
"Your friend is cute."
Ken smiled. "But I'm cuter, right?"
"Maaaaaybe…"
"Maybe?"
The girl rolled her eyes. "I'm bored of this. Let's go dance."
Blessed Amaterasu, that chick could move!
She had a tight little body and she swirled to the throb of the music, a heady mix of American pop and Eurotrash beats. Ken struggled to keep up, but he danced like a white guy. The effect was like watching a hummingbird flit around a hippopotamus.
Ken didn't care. He was too busy losing himself. She melted into him. The way the woman slowly wrapped around his body made Ken feel like he was dancing with a python.
All of the beautiful people in Tokyo were dancing on the floor with them tonight. Still, they might as well have been a million miles away.
Lost in his reverie, Ken never bothered to look over at Ryu. His best friend and spiritual brother had entwined himself in the other girl. Ryu kissed her and she moaned hungry animal sounds from the back of her throat as their lips touched. If it wasn't so offensive to his sense of masculinity, Ken would have admired his friend's technique. The man was absolutely useless when it came to conversation, but he sure knew how to win the girls over. Ken was the smooth talker, but Ryu expressed himself with his body.
If Ken was more aware, he would have seen his girl looking over at her friend. He might have noticed something jealous and feral pass across her eyes. Too bad he was too busy looking down her shirt. A little moon-shaped mole on her right boob. Awriiiiight…
She leaned close to him, nipped his ear with her too-sharp teeth. Even over the thumping base, he could hear her perfectly clear.
"I want you to come home with me."
Before the four of them left the club, the girls excused themselves to powder their nose. The boys toddled off to the coat check. Swaying on their heels, they exchanged their tickets for coats. Their brains were beehives of lust and their heads were pleasantly spinning. Both men were in excellent physical condition, but their livers couldn't keep pace with a couple of Japanese club girls.
The two girls took over the ladies' restroom mirror. Any other drunk girl who tried to approach them suddenly felt a chill on their skin and an overwhelming urge to get the hell out of the bathroom.
The girl Ken was courting puckered her lips in an exaggerated 'o' and carefully slid a tube of burgundy-red lipstick across them. Her friend leaned forward, tugging her tight dress down so that they squeezed around her boobs. In that single motion, the round mounds seemed to grow two cup sizes, the pearly skin almost spilling out of the neckline.
"Your guy is cute." The first girl said. She smacked her lips together, spreading the lipstick to her upper lip. Still got it.
"He's very handsome." Her friend sighed. "But he's so serious and he drinks like a virgin. It's going to be like eating an old man."
"He looked like a good kisser."
"Mmm…" Her friend purred. "There might be some hope for him. But I really like your boy."
The first girl's eyes flashed in rage.
"Oh no, girlfriend," she said through gritted teeth. "The gaijin is mine. He's like kissing a downed power line."
"But…"
"This isn't up for discussion." The girl turned and glared at her friend, who lowered her eyes. "I need something stronger tonight. And it's not like you're getting a dud. He's like his friend, you just have to…coax him a little more."
The friend kept her eyes lowered. The girl knew her long enough to recognize the body language. It was a mix of supplication and sulking.
"Oh fine. Maybe we can share him."
Her friend smiled.
The girl struggled with her key for a moment, and then Ken heard the lock click open. She pushed on the door and he followed her inside. Ken's first thought at seeing the girl's shared apartment was "Oh my god, what a dump."
Tokyo apartments were notoriously small but their place was a dingy and claustrophobic hole. It was clearly meant to be a modestly sized studio but some enterprising landlord threw up a couple of flimsy walls to partition off a couple bedrooms. The place was as tight and constricting as a coffin.
The smell didn't help any.
The place was filthy. Every available surface was cluttered with abandoned clothes and half-eaten bowls of ramen. The air was thick and fishy. It felt like an animal's den.
Ryu's girl pulled him into one of the little bedroom cubbies. Ken and his girl….what was her name again?…were hanging out in the kitchen. It was awkward. In the neon lit intimacy of the club, the two of them were hungry for each other, their hands exploring each other's bodies. Now, Ken felt like an unwelcome stranger.
The girl was leaning over the kitchen sink lighting a cigarette. She didn't turn on the light when they came in, and the cherry-bud of her cigarette glowed against her skin. It made the lines of her face seem angular and vaguely menacing. She looked at him with eyes that held no warmth.
Ken wandered around the little sliver of a living room. Had he been more aware of the oddness of his surroundings, he would have noticed that the living room had no real furniture. There were a couple of folded up futons in the corner but there were no tables or chairs or anything.
The only notable thing in the living room was an easel that stood next to the tiny window. Ken wandered over to the half-finished canvas and took a peek. The painting was a landscape of the view outside of the window. The brushstrokes that the artist used to show the edges of the buildings were dark and heavy. Black against gray. It made the structures of Tokyo look like bars in a prison cell.
"Did you do this?" Ken said.
"Mmm…"
"It's really good."
"Mmm…"
Silence filled the apartment. From the other side of the tiny partition, Ken could hear the soft moans of Ryu's girl. It was making him frisky.
Ken's girl smiled. "Do you think my friend is cute?"
"Sure."
"Cuter than me?"
Ken raised an eyebrow. It was his signature sexy move. "No. Absolutely not." He gave her a devilish half smile.
"So, did you come here to talk about my painting, or …?"
Ken reached his hand out toward her, and pulled her body against his.
The girl's body flowed over Ryu like a hungry wave crashing again and again into his body.
She leaned over, face to face with him. Her hair brushed against his cheek. Exciting. Teasing. Her lips found his.
As she ground into him, her palms stroked his pectorals. Her fingers slipped under his skin, teasing the ribs underneath.
Ryu would have screamed, but the girl had her lips on his. His breath stole out his lungs in ragged sobbing gulps.
"Ow."
"Mmm. I'm sorry, baby." The girl said. She carefully kissed Ken's earlobe. Her warm breath felt amazing against his skin. "Better?"
Ken smiled at her, but it was a wavering facade. Something twisted up inside him. Jesus, it's like she's got needle teeth.
The girl kissed him again. They were on her futon and the girl had her legs wrapped up around his stomach. He could feel the warmth of her sex as she pressed herself into him. It was almost enough to make him forget the smell in the bedroom. It was worse than the kitchen. It smelled like something died in there.
Ken slid his hands along the side of her body. The girl took hold of his right hand and guided it up her ribcage and over her breast. His body tensed at the sensation. He arched into her.
She bit him in the neck.
"Aaaaooow!" He pushed back from her. One hand flew up to his neck and he unconsciously turned his hips at an angle and brought the other hand up.
The girl giggled. "Heheee."
Ken pulled his hand away from his wounded neck. It was smeared with blood. "What the hell!"
"I'm just playing. I thought you were stronger." She smiled. "I like being rough."
Ken caught the weird look in her eyes. It was like staring down long dark tunnels. He suddenly felt very afraid. "I…uh, I think I'm going to go."
The girl pouted. The expression was very cute. "But I don't want you to go."
Ken backed away. "Look, it's been fun and I'm sure you're a lovely little cannibal, but I'm not feeling it. I'll catch you later."
"You're not going anywhere."
"Whatever, lady. I'll see you…"
He didn't get to finish that thought.
One second the girl was on the bed, curled up and grinning through bloody teeth. A second later, she was on her feet and throwing Ken over her shoulder and onto the futon with a perfect ippon seoi nage throw that knocked the wind out of him.
Ken had never been thrown down that hard in his life. He groaned and curled up in a ball.
The girl was standing over him. There was a high keening sound, like someone dragging a nail file over a violin string. Ken could see her outline in the dark, twitching like a marionette shot through with electricity.
There was something wrong with her face.
Then the room exploded.
Ryu struggled to free himself but the girl's weight was like a giant boulder sitting on his chest.
The creature that straddled Ryu didn't look like the girl he took home from the club. Her body stretched and twisted, becoming something inhuman. Ugly rust-orange fur sprouted from her skin and her scent was raw and animalistic, like something dragged out of the darkest forests.
The creature held him down with one skinny hand. Her mouth remained locked on his, and he could barely breathe under her incredible weight. Ryu felt his strength ebbed away. He was losing himself in her.
Managing to wiggle one hand free, he prepared to strike out with a knife-hand blow to the nerve cluster where the creature's jaw connected to her neck.
Ryu lashed out with everything he had. His eyes widened as he watched the blow pass through her like she was made of fog.
Impossible!
The creature leaned away from him and laughed. Her voice was throaty and feral. "Kimie was right about you. You ARE going to be fun."
"Guhh!" Ryu took a deep breath. The second the creature took her lips off his, his energy started flowing back through his body.
It wasn't much. The feral thing had sucked so much energy from him that he felt he was on the cusp of a deep, drugged sleep.
The creature ground her hips down on him. Ryu's stomach knotted with revulsion. Something furry tickled the insides of his thighs. She flashed a vicious grin at him, her fangs peaking through her skinny black lips.
Ryu knew he was going to die.
What happened next was instinctive.
Martial arts training isn't always about striking one's fist into hot sand and shattering makiwara boards. There are moments of silence, of reflection and contemplation that border on the spiritual.
There was a part of Ryu's mind that moved beyond the concept of victory and defeat. Of life and death. He moved his spirit into silence traveling to a place untouchable by the inhuman creature intent on stealing his life away.
Ryu was a martial artist, not some common street thug. Years of training made inner satori inseparable from his warrior spirit. He reached into the depths of his soul, shaped his martial energies, and pushed them forward.
"HA DO KEN!"
Ken's eyes were fixed on the creature's dilated pupils when Ryu's attack hit. The banshee's shiny red orbits were locked on his, menacing and triumphant, when suddenly he was blinded by a flash of light so blue it was almost white. It blazed inside the room like a star going supernova.
The room shook like a bomb going off. Flimsy plywood shoji shutters that separated the rooms blew apart into a million jagged shards. Fast food wrappers flew through the air burning like Shinto prayers. They floated down from the ceiling in tiny shredded flakes, orange embers glowing on their edges.
The blast caused the beast's expression to change from smug satisfaction into one of surprise and terror. She was knocked off her feet and slammed hard against the wall, her body leaving a huge dent in the cheap plaster. Ken, familiar with his friend's energy, let it wash over him like a stone in the evening tide.
In the harsh blue-white light of the room, he could see the woman's complete transformation. He'd heard of the legend of kitsune, or fox spirits, but the kitsune in the folk tales were capricious tricksters, sleek and graceful. The skinny, mangy thing before him lay in a heap curled up on the floor, and looked like some alley cat a day or two from finding a hole to die in. It's face was a ghastly combination of human and animal, with a stunted snout and a mouth curved and jagged like a rusty scimitar.
"Who are you two?" the creature said in a voice too deep and scratchy to be human.
"The best," Ken growled. He slid his foot back, his feet dragging over the remains of broken porcelain udon bowls.
"I'll kill you! I'll rip your heart out of your chest!" The creature rose up, regaining her footing. He watched, amazed as each of her slender fingers elongated and twisted until her fingertips was as sharp as a stiletto.
The corners of Ken's mouth turned up into a dangerous smile. He tensed his muscles.
"Game on."
The creature lunged first.
Her technique was wide and clumsy, a maneuver Sensei would have called sloppy, but she moved as quickly and purposefully as bullets from a sniper rifle. Ken ducked under a swipe the would have taken an inexperienced fighter's head off. Despite his agility, her ice-pick claws barely grazed the side of his scalp. He hissed as the wounds, which felt like the slice of five long scalpels, burned against his dry skin.
The creature struck again, its rapid combination of moves swift and deadly. Ken dodged the first blow, but then she thrust out a front kick that connected with Ken's stomach and hurtled him backwards into the air before embedding him in the wall.
Ken sucked in a breath and wheezed. The kick knocked the wind out of him and he inhaled plaster dust as he tried to fill his lungs. His mind whirled as he fought to suppress his rising panic.
Okay. She's fast. I've fought fast. Fast is sloppy and uncontrolled. Watch for the wide opening.
The fox-thing came at him again, her long taloned foot crushing the litter in the room with purposeful strides. Ken pushed himself out of the indentation in the wall and took a ready position.
The claw attack came again. Ken ducked under it, stepped in and to the side to get out of the way of another front kick, and drove the heel of his palm into her exposed ribcage.
The blow passed straight through her body.
Oh hell.
Ryu shook the debris off his body.
Everything went dark for a moment and, in a surge of panic, he worried that he might have burned the eyes out of his head. Sensei had warned him that the energies he sought to master were wild and difficult to channel. He and Ken practiced each day during their training trying to carefully knock small stones off the larger rocks in Sensei's zen garden. They usually succeeded in only burning deep rivets into the garden and searing the sand so violently it turned to glass. He could barely control his energy under serene circumstances. What if it turned on him?
From somewhere nearby he heard the sound of a fight. He recognized Ken's breathing. It was haggard and raw, similar to the after one of Sensei's punishing workouts. His opponent hissed like a cat, and the sound of her blows whistled through the air.
The darkness around him slowly coalesced into vague shapes. Ryu felt a flood of relief as his panic drained away. He realized the attack had shattered the lights in the room, and he was nude in a room full of broken glass and shattered trash.
His demonic assailant lay crumpled in a corner, stuck between transformations, her long slender arms and legs tapering off into surgical talons. Her face had elongated, stuck between shifting into a fox's snout, and she had the flattened, distorted features of a rotted jack-o-lantern. Five sickly orange-furred tails jutted from the creatures backside, and covered her body like a burlesque dancer's fan. She moaned a little before slipping deeper into unconsciousness.
Ryu looked over at Ken. He was ragged and his skin sported several abrasions across his face and abdomen. Ken was struggling to keep his balance amidst the wreckage, and Ryu noticed creature attacking his friend had completed her transformation. No longer the pretty seductress of the Roppongi nightlife scene, the woman was skinny and feral, driven mad by lust and hunger. Her attacks came rapidly, relentless as a runner's heartbeat. Ken dodged her slashing blows, but just barely managed to stay clear of her talons. His breathing was labored; his footing sloppy. He was going to lose.
Ryu took a step forward but a wave of dizziness swept over him. His attack on the fox-beast drained him of energy. His soul felt strip-mined.
He crashed to the floor.
Ken couldn't keep it up much longer.
It was like fighting light. No human could move as fast as the monster that assaulted him. If he weren't in peak fighting condition, he would have been dead long ago. Dismayed, he felt himself faltering. Sensei had taught him to always be present in the moment during battle, to perform to the best of his ability beyond the fear of defeat. That was all well and good when sparring with his friends, but for the first time ever, he was fighting for his life. He observed the flaws in the creature's technique, the moments of opportunity which opened and closed like window shutters in a storm, but every blow he struck passed through the creature's body. A chilly, clinical voice creeped in the back of his thoughts.
You are going to die.
Ken heard a body crash next to him. He spared a sideways glance and saw Ryu hit the floor. A surge of rage passed through him. Ken's own death was one thing, but he couldn't lose his brother.
"Ken..." Ryu moaned from the floor.
"Ryu! Get out of here, buddy!" Ken screamed, barely dodging a claw strike aimed at his throat.
"Use the..." Ryu gasped. It was like iron spears were piercing his lungs. "Use the surge of warrior's intent!"
Somewhere in the far reaches of Ken's mind, in a place that existed beyond fear and fatalism, the words clicked. The surge of warrior's intent. Part technique, part philosophy, part meditation. With this practice, the soul of a martial artist extended and physically shaped outward. It was a extraordinary gift that separated a true martial artist from a merely talented fighter.
Ken's gaze pierced through the hissing, ratty monster howling at him and he smiled. Suddenly, the creature seemed like she was moving slowly through deep water. The light of his soul poured through him. His fists began to glow the rich orange fire of a sunrise.
Even through the fog that embraced Ryu's mind, he had no doubt that his brother was anything other than magnificent. The man measured every step. Accurately timed every strike. He countered each wild slash the creature made, exposed her openings, and struck back.
The kitsune, suddenly manic and frail, doubled over after each blow. The light from Ken's flames cast shadows of the combatants against the apartment wall and, for a wild moment, Ryu imagined he was watching some mythical scene from some prehistoric time; a shadow play of violence against a stone wall.
The creature abandoned any remaining traces of humanity. She hissed and snarled, her gnarled fangs snapping with each blow. She thrust two talons toward Ken's eyes, but he side-stepped into her, redirected the blow, and thrust his open palm into the center of her chest, where a human's solar plexus would be. There was a sharp snapping sound.
The mangy fox-spirit staggered back and collapsed against a wall, barely able to remain upright. She panted in ragged gasps, like an overrun horse. Ken eyed her warily, but kept his mind relaxed. The flames flowing from his hands and feet slowly diminished. He re-centered himself; focused his breathing. Every cell in his body expanded and contracted with each breath. It was a remarkable sensation.
The creature eyed him with awe. She'd been feeding off the poor lonely humans of Tokyo for a long time, but she'd never actually seen the essence she devoured. His spirit flamed around the body of the young gaijin in a way she'd never thought possible. This was tengu magic.
"What...what are you?" the kitsune gasped.
Ken smiled. "A guy with horrible taste in women, apparently."
The creature started shrinking and twisting. A ghostly wail escaping her lips. In the weird glow of Ken's chi, the effect was like watching time lapsed photography of a monster transformation in an old film. In a few seconds, the monster was gone and in her place stood the beautiful young girl from the club. She was nude. Her face was badly battered. A nasty purple bruise spread out from the center of her chest.
"Please..." the girl moaned. "I need your help."
Ken tensed up. This was unexpected.
"I'm haunted. That monster has kept me prisoner for too long." The girl started crying in long hiccuping sobs, each one wracking her body. "Please save me!" The girl staggered slowly toward Ken.
Ken took a step back. "If this is some sort of trick..."
"It's not a trick! You have to believe me!" Her voice sounded panicked and desperate. She dropped her head in submission. Her gaze fell to the floor as her stick-thin arms covered her body. "Many years ago, my sister and I were shrine maidens in a temple outside of Kyoto..."
"She's lying!" Ryu hollered. "Look at her shadow!"
Ken snapped out of his reverie. He glanced behind the girl towards the shadow she cast on the wall. Illuminated in the glow of Ken's energy, the girl's shadow was in the shape of a fox creature, badly wounded but ready to pounce.
Ken's eyes snapped back to the girl. All false modesty was gone from her gaze. Her features began to change and contort. Her eyes went jet black and jaw distended, teeth growing long and sharp.
Ken dropped back into a forward fighting stance, lead hand up. His energy reignited around him, but it wasn't the wild undisciplined thing that reminded him of surfing the California currents in his youth. It was an extension of himself, no different or alien than his arms.
The creature didn't charge wildly like before. She slid back on her haunches like a house cat stalking a mouse.
Ken knew better than to charge into her readied attack. He moved his weight forward onto the balls of his feet. The creature watched him for a couple agonizingly long heartbeats. Then she attacked.
Her previous attacks were wide sweeping moves, the kind of hay-makers any barroom thug would have tried. This time, she sprang up into air as weightless as a dandelion seed cast into the wind. She curled into a ball, flipped in the air like a gymnast, and with a high-pitched war cry slashed her extended foot towards Ken's head in a perfect arc. Purple light trailed from her toes as the fox spirit infused her attack with her essence. Although he was the target of such a lethal technique, Ken couldn't help but admire its beauty.
It was perfect.
He stepped into the move, squatted down low, and cocked his fist to his hipbone. He pressed off the floor like a competitive swimmer shoving off a pool wall. Exhaling, he moved all of the ki in his body into his fist and pushed upward. He was like a comet streaking through the sky.
"Sho Ryu Ken!"
"Ken?"
"Mrruh?" Ken moaned. He was on the floor of the apartment. The room was dark. There was a piece of a shattered ceramic bowl jabbing into the muscles of his lower back. It was the most comfortable bed he'd ever slept in.
Maybe just a few minutes more...
"Ken!" Ryu shouted. He shook Ken's shoulder as he yelled, the way he always did when Ken tried to oversleep during practice. Ken rolled over on his side, his face pressing into a puddle of soju. His other hand swatted at Ryu.
Go away little fly.
"Ken, get up! We've got company."
Company? In the temple?
They weren't in the temple, were they? He wasn't wearing his sleeveless gi. The fabric wasn't rough enough. He was in his silky club shirt. He went out for the night. And there was something sharp pressing into his lower back.
Oh crap. The fox girls!
Panic seized him. He tried to get back on his feet but he stumbled. What happened to him?
He looked up at Ryu, who was naked except for a tiny Hello Kitty towel wrapped around his nether regions. It would have been comical save for the rivulets of blood that streamed from a dozen tiny rooms. Ryu didn't look back down at Ken. He was staring at the windows, fatigue-trembling hands ready in a fighting position.
Ken looked over at the window and saw a dozen figures staring back at him.
There were perhaps a half dozen of the creatures flitting around in the darkness of the ruined apartment. Unlike the fox-spirits who attacked Ken and Ryu, these were sleek and graceful, with full fur coats and sly gazes. They looked like real fox-spirits from legend, not the half-formed monstrosities that lay broken on the floor.
Four of the newcomers sniffed at the downed demons, recoiling from the scent in disgust. Two of them pulled Ryu's assailant out of the groove in the wall. She was still mostly unconscious and stood on wavering punch-drunk steps. Ken's
opponent was curled on the ground in a fetal position, making a low mewling sound. She sounded like an animal lying wounded beside a highway, waiting to die.
Two of new arrivals remained leaning against the windowsill watching Ryu. Their rich red coats were highlighted with streaks of
gray and nine thick tails curled from their backsides, fanning below them like the train in some beautiful evening dress. They didn't hold themselves like they were ready for a fight. They appeared...amused.
"I see why they chose these two, Kimi-chan," one of the spirits said.
The other giggled an exaggerated geisha giggle, covering her exposed teeth with her paw. "The naked one is cuuuute."
"Mmm. He must be a lot of fun."
Ken shook his head, trying to get some sense of equilibrium back. "Who are you? What's going on?"
"Us?" One of the fox-spirits said, a laugh in her voice. "We're just a family. And we were looking for our little sisters."
"Who've stayed in the city for far too long. They've been very bad." The second fox-spirit said, a girly sing-song tone in her voice.
"Very bad indeed." The first spirit said, looking down at the monster Ken put down. There wasn't much charm or humor in her voice.
"We don't do well in places like this." Sing-song said. There was disgust in her voice. "It makes us...odd."
"But that's all behind us now, isn't it?" The first spirit...Kimi-chan...moved over to the monster that attacked Ken. She grabbed the sickly looking creature by the scruff of her neck. "Now we're all going to go home. Together."
"Please..." the wounded creature groaned.
"Far too late for that, sweetie."
The wounded creature on the ground gasped heavily and let out a tortured thick breath. Ken heard that sound once before, late at night at the temple. Sensei was standing beside him, shivering. He said it was a death call.
"What about these two?" one of the other newcomers said. She was in a low stance, haunches coiled as if ready to spring at them.
"I was just wondering about that myself." The leader strode towards the two warriors, her tails caressing them as she passed by. "Would you like to run in the night with us? It would be memorable, my sweet boys."
"Thanks, but I think I've had my fill of crazy fox chicks for awhile." Ken said. He managed to find enough strength to get on his feet. The real trick would be staying upright.
"Such a shame." Sing-song said. "Still, I think I'll keep an eye on you two."
"What?" Ryu said, tensing up.
"You're from the temple in the Kitanoji forests, right?"
"How did you know that? Tell us, spirit!" Ryu said, his voice taking the same commanding edge as Sensei.
"We know of the old man who trains there. He was..." Sing-song sighed. "...spectacular."
Ken and Ryu glanced at each other. Sensei was full of surprises.
"You two should careful of what you devote yourselves to," Sing-song said, leaning close to Ryu. "Talent like yours is bound to attract...attention."
Ken smiled. "We can handle ourselves just fine."
"Human hubris. So frustrating." The leader shook her head. "So intoxicating."
The other fox spirits gathered up their fallen peers. Ryu and Ken's dates were so badly damaged that they needed the others to support them. The one Ryu knocked out was still unconscious. Ken's date stirred. She flashed a sickly smile. "I had a really good time, baby."
Ken flashed his brightest smile back at her. "You betcha. Call me sometime, okay?"
Sing-song laughed. "Oh, he is charming. Please let me keep him."
The leader shook her head. "You impossible girl. As for you two, we apologize for their poor behavior. We'll see you again."
Then they stepped into the shadows of the apartment and were gone. From somewhere in the night came the sound of foxes keening. It was odd and ethereal against the concrete-and-neon canyons of Tokyo.
Ryu and Ken stood in silence for a moment. The only sounds in the apartment were their breathing and the small crumbling sounds of plaster falling in the new holes in the wall.
"That's the last time I let you talk me into going out."
"Oh shut up," Ken said. "And go put some pants on."
They spent the next few minutes trying to find Ryu's clothes. The one undamaged light in the apartment provided little aid. Every now and again one of them would look up through the window and see worried face of a neighbor peering in.
Ken found Ryu's cool white shirt first. It was shredded. Damn.
"I found your shirt, buddy."
Ryu looked at it. His face fell. He really loved that shirt."Aw. Dammit."
"So I gotta ask..."
"Not now, Ken."
"I know, I know." Ken looked up and down at Ryu. "I mean, you obviously got farther than I did."
"Not now, Ken." Ryu said, annoyance in his voice.
"But I gotta ask. What's hooking up with a fox spirit like?"
"Oh that does it."
Four minutes later the cops showed up to a domestic disturbance call to find a naked guy fighting with a gaijin in a bombed out apartment. They assumed it was a lover's quarrel.
Neither Ryu nor Ken resisted arrest. They weren't the type to beat up cops.
Sensei bailed them out from the police station the next morning.
He was not amused.
Ryu and Ken spent the next week hauling sandbags up and down the stone temple staircase from dawn to dusk. The rough fabric scraped their skin and the weight turned their limbs into overcooked soba noodles
It really sucked.
Toward the end of the day, when the bags were impossibly heavy and the staircases extended all the way to heaven, both Ryu and Ken could feel the gaze of a dozen fox spirits in the treeline, their laughter unearthly and very, very annoying.