California State Prison
Los Angeles County (LAC)
Sunday, November 18th, 2012
Jin "Jet" Kimura watched the action on T.V. Normally such a tense game would have been a cacophony of back and forth of cheers and jeers from opposing fans. However, if there were any in the audience that didn't want to see the Bruins win against the San Diego Aztecs, they remained respectfully silent.
Jin's boy, Kashi, was playing. Even if his son had been the worst player in the pitch, no one would have said a word. Jet was not the sort of man to listen to criticism. He was taller than most at 6'1" and while not bulky, he was covered in lean muscle. Like his son, he looked fast. Like his son, he tended to show off his toned muscles. Unlike his son, his tan skin was covered in old scars and tattoos. He had the appearance of a man you didn't want to antagonize. The fact that he was a bound blood brother with the leader of the Devil's Wolves Motorcycle Club was even more reason to show respect or simply not watch the game.
Not that anyone worried about that too much now. The first few games of the season every soccer fan in the place had seen that Jin's boy was good. He had become a sensation.
It wasn't just a bunch of inmates that Kashi had won over. The coaching staff was so impressed that they had gone from reluctantly putting the freshman on the varsity squad to eagerly putting him on the pitch due to his phenomenal abilities. Although he had played in other games, today Jin's boy was actually getting the first start of his college career. But that would have its consequences.
The Bruins started in a normal 4-2-1-3 formation with Kashi getting to start in the center forward position in place of the resting senior, Ortiz. However, things didn't start off rosey for the Bruins as San Diego quickly scored on a beautiful through ball in the 12th minute, putting up an early lead. They continued to maintain possession in the Bruin's side of the pitch and at halftime the score was 3-0 with Kashi having barely touched the ball and UCLA, as a whole, having only a scant fourteen minutes of possession in the first forty five.
Jet didn't let any emotion show on his face throughout the entirety of the first half or halftime and when the Aztecs quickly intercepted the ball and scored a fourth goal just five minutes after play resumed, everyone thought the game was over. Not long after, there looked to be an argument on the sideline between Kashi and the coach. Finally, throwing his hands up in frustration, the coach sent in Ortiz, the striker, to play center midfield in place of a more defensive sophomore. Following a quick consultation with the team, the ball was put back in play. This time, however, things did not go well for San Diego.
The Aztecs won the ball in midfield as had become the norm, but Ortiz and Kashi immediately dropped back deep into the back field and provided two more roving bodies that could attack the ball. With the fresh legs of Ortiz and Kashi's relatively unused legs and amazing stamina, the ball was recovered as Kashi called out plays like he was on a basketball court instead of a soccer pitch.
With Kashi as the spear head, they worked their way down the pitch with amazing footwork and a laser like focus on their objective. Kashi sent a burner to the top left, beating the keeper and, in a tournament record, less than two minutes later repeated the performance in mirror like fashion, finishing on the top right this time in a beautiful shot. San Diego pushed back, but with Kashi and Ortiz floating back to give double or triple coverage there wasn't much that the opposing team could do but try to run out the clock.
But Kashi wasn't just an offensive player. He knew how to tackle and had the strength to do it too. Ortiz had spent a lot of time away from practice working with the defense and the end result was a better defense from them and better offense from Ortiz, but the real beauty in this situation was the cross pollination of skills. They knew how to set up the clever offside traps and stop the crosses. If anything, these two strikers had the best awareness on the pitch. As a result, there was no resting as Kashi, Ortiz, and the rest of Bruins pushed the Aztecs relentlessly.
The next goal was destined to be on highlight reels for years as a quick shot by a fellow striker was deflected upward by the San Diego goalie. The goalie regained his feet in plenty of time and thought to merely hop in the air and grab the ball. But Kashi read the arc of the ball and the goalie's intent and took off full speed toward the falling ball. In a monumental feat of strength and agility, Kashi managed to jump high enough in the air to tap the ball with his head. Contact with the ball first insured no foul as he plowed over the goalie in spectacular fashion. On his way to the turf he managed to twist his body around and his right foot found the ball in what was probably the most insane bicycle kick for a goal in the history of the sport.
Down by one with only eleven minutes left to play, those consequences began to rear their head. It started with the Aztecs swarming Kashi under in a not so subtle attempt to mimic his own defensive strategy. Kashi could usually get away in a one on one. Two on one was a tough fight, but even he was having trouble with the triple and quadruple teams on him. While that usually would allow for more than a few open people to pass the ball to, San Diego proved quite adept at shutting down the passing lanes.
The Bruins had made their final substitutions ten minutes ago, and the wear from working the entire pitch was showing clearly in the performance of Ortiz. Kashi, though having greater stamina, had played twice as long and was forced to work harder. As a result, even his seemingly unending reserves were beginning to be tested.
Still, a blind searching through ball found Kashi and he raced full speed down the pitch laying it off to his teammate at the last second for the easy score tying the game and sending the home crowd to a fever pitch as hope sprang anew.
"Punks are on him like flies, Jet. The kid can't make a move," one of the lifers said.
"It's taking the other team so much to defend against him they're letting other plays pass through. That's still winning them the game if only just. Kids got what it takes to go pro," one of the guards stated.
Jet nodded in agreement.
As the game headed towards the final minutes the opposition realized the same thing the guard had noticed. There wasn't as many covering him as often now, but frustration was building and some hard checks were being made against Jin's boy. In was in the last minute of stoppage time when Kashi deeked first one defender then the other and raced toward the goal. A third stood in his way but a quick stutter and right fake threw the defender off balance. A spin move to the left with a leading kick to his right pushed the defender in a chasing scenario as Kashi glided behind him. Just inside the box, he found Ortiz, onside, and open at the far post. A quick cross and that's the game. As the ball left his right foot, however, pain exploded in Kashi's leg as two late, desperate, and hard slide tackles came in. One came in from Kashi's left and knocked his left foot out from under him and wrenching the leg hard to his right, and the second arriving milliseconds later caught the back right of the his foot. The end result was a knee twisted in a grotesque fashion. He crumpled on the pitch screaming in pain and never saw Ortiz put the winning goal in the back of the net with a beautiful textbook header at the end of stoppage time.
A young punk on his first year spoke up. "Holy shit! That looked like a break! Did you see that shit?"
His teeth snapped shut as he noticed Jin's glare. The home team fans were going crazy. Some in celebration as they had all but won, and others crying out in dismay as Kimura wasn't getting up. Trainers rushed onto the pitch and after a few moments a stretcher was waved on as well. Kashi was carefully loaded, first on the stretcher, then on a cart, all the while taking great pains to be gentle with his knee. As the cart slowly began to pull away one of his teammates leaned down and whispered in his ear. Kashi's nodded. His head shot up and looked to his left directly at a camera. He was still grimacing in pain, but through that grimace was a toothy, goofy, smile and he gave a big thumbs up. The crowd lost their minds.
"Heh looks like he might be ok," the guard observed as San Diego took a wild shot from midfield to end the game. "Hell of a champ to take a hit like that and still be smiling," he said shaking his head as the whistle blew three times signaling the end of the game.
"I'll say. The boy's tough like his old man," the lifer noted.
"You're goddamn right," Jet said.
The Court of the Empress of the United States and Protector of Mexico
San Francisco, California, USA
Monday, November 19th, 2012
Kevin was a troll. He would have been a Grump in the days before the magic started to flow again. Now, however, he was the captain of the Imperial guard. He had to be prepared to face every danger to the throne.
He advanced and kneeled before his empress. "Your Imperial Majesty, I bring grave tidings. We have captured a member of Cult of the Onrushing Tide. We have put him to the question. He has revealed much about the Cult and their plans."
"The Onrushing Tide are fanatics of the worst sort. Their delusion that they can master the coming waves of chaos are proof enough of that. Any defeat of their numbers is a victory for us all," Empress Nora said regally.
The empress was only 16 as human reckoning went. However, she had lived a life high in adventure, having seen and done more than mortals twice her years. Her dusky skin and dark eyes were complimented by the pale ivory of the diaphanous gossamer gown she wore. Her lustrous black hair was adorned with a net of silver and pearls.
She had, with the aid of the mighty werewolf Alex Silbern, been among the first to breach the lost gates of Arcadia. She led the way for the first fae pilgrims and made it into the heart of the wasteland to learn the dark truths within. She had been the only one brave enough to throw herself into the Wyld Storm where she had wrested her title from the universe itself.
"The news I bear is most dire. The mastermind behind their plotting is revealed. Your chief minister Jerrold is not only the head of the Tide, but the architect of their organization! He is the founder of their heresy!"
"Impossible! He was with her majesty from the beginning. That would mean from its very inception, our great moment and all our work to unite the fae and work alongside others for the betterment of the world we share was doomed," one courtier exclaimed.
"Doomed? Hardly, but it does explain how our enemies quickly learned our secret techniques and easily kept pace with our work," the empress said.
"Things are worse. Jerrold has built a weapon based on the old magic. It works like the fabled flute of Hamelin, only on in a grander scale. It draws power from those charmed into its procession. The more people charmed, the stronger and more far ranging the effect. Given time, I fear nothing could stop it," Kevin explained
"They will not attack here. Jerrold knows our defense is too strong. He also knows we would defend the humans. Send warning to our allies in New Orleans, Mobile and even Los Angeles. They must all be on guard. This court is dismissed so that you all might see to it at once," Nora ordered, her chin lifted in a defiant cast that gave the court hope.
"As you will, milady," the court intoned nearly as one.
Near a fountain in the park, a custodian shook his head while watching the high school and college kids break up. He watched till the LARPers left and then continued to clean up the park. They were an odd bunch, but at least they never left a mess.
Sports Medicine Office
UCLA, California
Monday, November 19th, 2012
Banyan Kimura kept eye contact with her son as the doctor examined his knee. Kashi, meanwhile, was trying to look anywhere but into his mother's eyes.
"That was one of the nastiest fouls I've ever seen. It sure looked like your knee dislocated on the video from yesterday's game, but it must have just been a bad twist. You are one lucky young man, Kimura. If it had been a dislocation you might have never played again. Knee injuries are very serious," the doctor said, fretting slightly.
Kashi frowned. He was glad no one had been close enough to get a good look when he had been injured. He had been able to force everything back into what felt like the right location. It had hurt like hell to do, however, he knew if anyone saw the true extent of his injuries, he would be off the team. He had not even thought about how, after seeing the injury heal, his secret would be out as only the Manifested healed so fast.
Banyan, however, had pointed this out. She had been insistent that Kashi play up his injury to help mask the speed at which he was healing. Kashi had argued with his mother, however. He wanted to get back to playing as soon as he could.
Tell me when this starts to hurt so I have an idea of how bad the bruising is," the doctor said as he started to gently prod the flesh around the knee.
Banyan narrowed her eyes in warning. Kashi's mouth formed a defiant, tight line. Banyan folded her arms with implicit threat.
"Yeah it hurts right there, Doc," Kashi spat sullenly.
"Odd. Even with just bruising it should be worse than that," the doctor said.
"He's playing tough. I've warned him about that," Banyan said, not bothering to hide her displeasure with her son.
"Well keep that brace. Take these when things get too hurting too much. I'll see you again next week," the doctor explained.
"After the next game?" Kashi asked dully.
"Yes after your teammates get back from the next game. Too bad you won't be there for the third round of the championship. The coaches were playing you too much as it was. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened," the doctor said, walking out with Kashi's file.
"This is bullshit," Kashi said.
"Kashi! You have to keep quiet about this," Banyan said.
Kashi fumed. Banyan motioned for him to get into the wheelchair she had used to bring him into the building. Kashi flopped down into the chair petulantly.
"Once again what are these stupid powers good for? Nothing but screwing up my life! If I didn't have to keep them quiet, I could play," Kashi said childishly.
"Kashi! Did you listen? If it wasn't for your gifts, you might never walk right again," Banyan said, her tolerance for her son's ill mood wearing thin.
"I'd have been fine!" Kashi spat defiantly.
"Do you want to make Willow sound right about you, Kashi, because this is how you make your sister sound right about you," Banyan quipped hoping to lighten her sons dark mood with a bit of humor.
"Willow doesn't know shit about shit," Kashi mumbled bitterly.
"I've had about enough," Banyan said, stunned at Kashi's temper.
"So have I!" Kashi spat back, setting his chair in motion with the wheel grips before his mother could get a grip and push him.
Banyan sighed she was not looking forward to the trip home.
Inglewood High
Inglewood, California
Monday, November 19th, 2012
Willow Kimura had a talent for impressing school administrations. She had a long history of playing to that talent to earn favors.
She impressed her elementary school teachers with her excellent behavior, incredible intelligence, and willingness to help out. Her last year in elementary school she had planned forward and through those teachers made the acquaintance of her future middle school staff.
From the day she had started middle school she worked to gain favor with the high school administration. While not proud to be calling on a child when in need, everyone enjoyed what was effectively a personal IT staffer who never wanted money, never asked for much or needed for her grades to be fixed. All she ever seemed to want was help getting into programs her intelligence already qualified her for.
As such, she didn't spend much of her schedule within the actual school itself. She had cashed in favors from the faculty to register for more dual enrollment classes than a student, in particular a freshman, ever should have been allowed.
Her plan was to milk the high school program for as many college credits as she could, just as she did the middle schools system for high school credit.
However, the faculty had been rather insistent that she take some elective classes that would "balance" her curriculum and socialization.
She had been resistant to the idea. However, she did love singing and one of the programs offered was choir. Willow found herself enjoying it. She also found herself spending more time socializing with others.
She had even learned a few thing by spending more time with her fellow classmates, like, for example, that Kimmy knew so much about Ken because they had gone to dance class together since they were nine.
She saw Kimmy and Ken talking and walked over to them. "Hey, are you both still coming over Thursday morning?"
"Yeah, your mom sure is great to help us out. Normally my mom takes us to events when we have a show, but with Aunt Abby sick, mom's expected to cook Thanksgiving dinner. With everyone coming over she feels like she'd be letting the family down if she didn't," Kimmy said.
"I don't know what we would do without your mom being so kind, Willow. My mom would be risking a major fight with my dad. He hates that I'm in dance. So if she offered to spend the day shuttling me and Kimm back and forth..." Ken trailed off with a sad shake of his head.
"No, it's great. Nana Johnson always eats with us. She always says she misses having a large group over for Thanksgiving. She was excited just to have Sayuri coming this year. It will be fun to have you over. You better be careful, though. I know you can't eat anything heavy before going to perform but Nana can be very persuasive," Willow said, warning the two with mock severity in her voice.
"I think we will just have to risk it," Ken said with a smile.
"We're are not holding you up are we? You looked like you were going somewhere," Kim said to Willow.
"I won't be late, but I should move along. Mrs. Randall wanted to see me about choir," Willow shrugged.
"Oh, well, good luck," Kim said.
Willow walked on entering her music teacher's office. Mrs. Randall was there waiting. Mrs. Randall was young for a teacher. She had high cheek bones. striking facial features, and voluminous hair she kept swept back. Whether or not it was a weave seemed to be a common topic of whispered conversation when she was out of her earshot among the student body. She dressed more like she was working in an upscale office than a school.
Willow had not been expecting another staff member to be present but there was Mr. Hernandez, one of the guidance counselors. He was a small, portly fellow who kept his receding hair short and, while he wore a tie, he also wore short sleeved dress shirts. Willow thought it made him look like a Hispanic recast of Homer Simpson.
"Come in, Willow. Have a seat there," Mrs. Randall said.
Mr. Hernandez spoke first. "You know, I saw a great deal of your brother, but from your transcripts you're not the sort to have the need for these sort of meetings. You are a very intelligent young lady with a diligent study ethic. The only place your grades seem to suffer any is in physical education," he said.
"I've always made the minimum prerequisites for advancement," Willow said, worry creeping into her voice.
"This isn't about P.E. but it is related, Willow. You are one of the most talented young singers I have had the privilege of teaching, but your stamina is atrocious. From what I've seen during practice, you can't maintain your energy. As of right now, you would not be able to make it through an entire show or competition," Mrs. Randall explained.
"You're kicking me out of choir?" Willow fretted.
"No, nothing so hasty as that. We try to correct problems, not give up in the face of them," Mrs. Randall said smiling.
"You need to work to build up your stamina. It's funny, really, your brother has always had what seemed like limitless stamina. Too much at times, really," Mr. Hernandez laughed to himself. "You know, keeping up with him was almost a job in and of itself. That's why one of the suggestions we have is for you to try enlist Kashi as an aide in whatever plans we make. That boy helped a number of young athletes at this school increase their performance. I'm sure that he'd spare even more effort for his own sister," he said.
"If you say so, sir," Willow replied pliantly.
Internally, however, Willow was filled with numb shock. She knew all Kashi saw when he looked at her was a useless burden. Whenever she tried to help him, he yelled at her and threatened her. In her mind, he held her very existence up as a point where his life veered off into chaos. She knew he secretly blamed her as the reason their father wasn't around. He bellyached about her dragging him into trouble that was of his own making. God forbid she actually ask him for help.
Banyan would be even worse. Willow felt her mother would use any excuse to say she was trying to do too much and should scale back. She had worked hard to keep her mother ignorant of just how many advanced academic programs she was taking. Her mother would claim she was working too hard and risking burn out. Unlike Kashi, who often played multiple sports despite middling to poor scholastics. She snapped her attention back to what the pair of teachers were saying. She would have to pay attention. She was going to have to take care of this herself. Par for the course, she knew the only one she could count on was herself.
Kimura Home
Inglewood, California
Monday, November 19th, 2012
Banyan parked her car in it's regular spot in front of the house and opened the car door for her son. "Kashi, don't forget the cane Nana loaned you," she reminded him.
"Nana never uses this damn cane and she's over 80," Kashi groaned.
"She's on her porch, she can see you," Banyan hissed.
"Fine," Kashi said, relenting.
Putting his weight on the cane, Kashi stepped out of the car and waved to Mrs. Johnson across the way while Banyan unlocked and opened the door to their house. He then followed his mother inside.
"Kashi, we need to talk and I need you to listen and act like an adult. I know you're very disappointed your first year on UCLA's soccer team ended like this, but I don't have the mental energy to keep walking on eggshells around you," Banyan said.
Kashi clenched his jaw. "Oh, God do we have to do this?"
"I'm not looking forward to it anymore than you are," Banyan said.
"Fine," Kashi said, flopping down on the sofa.
Sighing, Banyan took the nearby chair. "You wanted to be a soccer star. I wanted you to follow your dreams. I told you that, to dream big, but that you had to plan for failure. You did that, you came up with career options to follow if you did not get your wish. Kashi, you are rapidly approaching the point where you are going to have to make a choice. With this injury you can likely finish out this year without incident. Next year, if you keep playing, you run the serious odds of getting caught. If you're caught, they'll not only yank your scholarship they'll call you a cheater. I know that will hurt you more than anything."
"But I didn't cheat! The whole time I've resisted the temptation. I know I can use a little power without the light show but I know that isn't fair! I've played my games honest! I won because I AM that good," Kashi argued.
"They're not going to believe you. Even if you didn't, your body doesn't tire as quickly. You're harder to hurt and the way you heal isn't normal. Kashi, you have an advantage over everyone and it is an unfair advantage. Maybe not to you, but the men who make the rules say that's the way it is. It's why Manifested are barred from professional sports. Kashi, you know deep down you will never go pro now. You're not going to be able to keep this secret underwraps given that level of scrutiny. You have to decide if another year of soccer is worth being labeled a cheat," Banyan said, attempting to reason with her son.
Kashi looked as if he wanted to argue more but, instead, he put his forehead to his knees and laid his head in the palms of his hands for a few minutes. When he looked back up, his eyes showed he had resolved to accept his fate.
He put his first two fingers of his right hand up to his right temple and started to rub it in a circular motion; a sign he was in deep thought. "If I don't play next year, my scholarship is gone. So, my third their idea of getting a business degree and owning a restaurant would be out. I'd only have one year of college. No degree and no time to cash in on my talent to save up an initial investment to open one."
"You could still be a firefighter. You like the idea of that. You could get a Pell Grant to a cheaper college? I don't make that much. You shouldn't have too much trouble getting financial aid," Banyan suggested.
"Maybe I could get a part time job as a lifeguard. I'd go into that full time if the field wasn't so crowded," Kashi said, thinking.
"And if you had to use your powers, if you blew your cover to save a life, you could pretend it was the first time. You could tell everyone it was the stress. I think people would believe that. It would be better to be thought of as a life saver than a cheat," Banyan said.
Kashi nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."
"There is one other thing, Kashi, it's not something I'm thrilled about either, but worse comes to worse you could get Sayuri's cousin to get you a meeting with Dr. Alani-Silbern up at M.S.I. I think they would help you. They would make sure no one hurt you or locked you up at least," Banyan said, her real fear finally coming out.
"I'll keep it in mind, but only as a last resort. I don't really want to drag Sayuri into this, even indirectly. Fuck, the least life could have done was give me a good shot at the championship after being so shitty as to take away my chances of going pro," Kashi said sadly.
Banyan's head shot up. "Kashi! Language!"
Kashi flushed. He'd forgotten himself in his agitation. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Well, at least I have a nice, restful Thanksgiving with lots of food to eat. If I'm not in training, I can at least cut loose with that," he said, trying to look on the brightside.