This is the very first time that I've ever made an original series before, so I hope you all enjoy. This story is also available on FictionPress.
Reviews are most appreciated.
The stadium was ablaze with excitement, and packed to the brim with ecstatic fans as the finals of the world martial arts championship began to reach its climax. Every seat in the house had been filled, and even the aisles and hallways were crowded with spectators, all mad with anticipation to find out who would be the declared the greatest fighter in the world.
In one corner stood a gigantic man, standing at least nine feet tall, with bulging muscles so grotesquely large, they couldn't have been natural. Shining brightly with the spotlights reflecting the sweat and oils dripping off his body, veins bulging as he cracks his knuckles, the man has a glimmering look of someone ready to break some bones.
In the other corner stood a young woman with jet black hair in a short ponytail and green eyes, clocking in just over five and a half feet tall, who despite her muscular, athletic physique, was dwarfed by her massive foe. She had managed to hold her own against this gargantuan for several minutes, but now she was running out of steam really fast. Her legs were beginning to shake, unable to hold their own weight, her face, once brimming with determination, was now bruised and sweaty, and her muscular arms now feeling heavy and useless.
Seeing a perfect opening, the behemoth man barreled towards the girl, who dodged to the side, and landed a punch into the man's ribs. Had she been at full strength, this would have been a substantial blow, but the girl was now so weary, she felt as though she might as well have flicked him. She attempted another jab, but the massive man batted the attack away, grabbing her arm, and throwing her into the corner of the ring. He charged loudly at her, and drove his fist into her face so hard, blood sprayed from her mouth, the crowd audibly cringing at such a brutal strike. The girl escaped from the corner, but staggered forward as her body began to shut down.
"I... I can't stop now!" She panted, fire in her eyes as she returned to face her giant adversary, and the crowd cheered loudly as she slowly stood upright once more. "If I win this fight, then I'll be the champion! The greatest fighter the world has ever known!" She backed into the opposite corner, and took a fighting stance.
Feeling the cheering and roar of the crowd, along with her determination and eagerness flowing through her, she regained the strength needed before locking her sight on the man. She slowly stepped towards her gigantic foe, her steps turning into a walk, which turned to a stride, into a run before into a sprint, finally turning her into a blur. Just as the gargantuan fighter threw a punch that could tear down a skyscraper, the young woman let fly an uppercut to her opponent's jaw.
In one long, slow motion moment, the hulking fighter was blown off his feet, uttering a pained cry as teeth cascaded out of his mouth, and finally hit the arena floor with a loud crash that shook the entire stadium.
"YEAH!" The girl shouted triumphantly. "I'm the greatest fighter in the world! You gotta deal with it!"
A deafening applause filled the stadium as rose petals snowed down around her, and two women presented her with the champion belt before giving her a kiss on each cheek, followed by a pair of handsome men, who gave her a four-foot golden trophy, and also kissed her on the cheeks.
"Ladies and gentlemen around the globe!" The commentator shouted enthusiastically. "This has been an unbelievable end to an unbelievable tournament. Fighters far and wide have shed blood, sweat, teeth, and tears in countless displays of power, but today, one stands supreme among them, and her name is...!"
"Aisha!"
In a single bat of her eyes, the girl had turned from world champion, to high school student. Gone were the roars of the fans chanting her name in victory, now toning down to the regular passenger background noises of the common subway. Gone were the shouts of the commentator, now isolated to the sound of an overhead TV. And gone were the two pretty trophy bearers, instead merging into a singular being sitting directly across a now ordinary teenage girl, who sighed in annoyance that she had returned to reality.
"Aisha! Wake up!" Her mother shouted. She wore a jade green yukata that gave the air of a patient, calm woman, as opposed to her daughter, who preferred to wear sporty, battle ready outfits, lacking sleeves so as to show off her well-toned arms. As well, while both mother and daughter had jet black hair, Aisha preferred to keep hers in a short ponytail, while her mother's grew down past chest-length, laying down flat and unbraided.
"We're almost at our stop!" She called. "Wake up!" She nudged her daughter's shoulder firmly.
"Okay, I'm up!" Aisha groaned irritably as she sat up in the train seat she'd been slouching over for the past few hours. With nothing better to do over the course of the long train ride, she had immersed herself into the TV playing opposite her, which had thankfully been replaying last year's world championship finals. She heaved another weary sigh as she faced the disappointing truth that she never did face off with Behemoth Ishiyama, and that standing in the winner circle was Gen Ikari, and not herself. At the very least, watching this fight let her escape from her unfortunate reality a little longer.
"Aisha, I know you hate school, but it's important." Her mother spoke.
"Yeah..." Aisha sighed. She'd heard her mother tell her this repeatedly these past several days, but outside of basic schooling from her parents, she'd never had a day of certified education in her whole life; after all, spending sixteen years on the move across Asia, when would she have the time to sit down in a classroom?
"Besides, the tournament is almost upon us. You won't have to put up with it for too long."
"But doesn't high school kind of interfere with training?" Aisha grumbled. After all, she had lived her whole life studying martial arts while traveling half of the world; given her life as a fighter, going through high school just sounded like a waste of time.
"Aisha..." Her mom sighed. "There's more to life than just training and fighting. They say that the high school years are the best years of a Japanese youth's life, so have fun with the time you have!"
The train came to a stop, and the PA toned as the doors slid open, "Takayama. Takayama."
"I've been having the most fun years of my life before you made me go to school." Aisha objected as she followed her mother off the train. "I mean, how can you get more fun than learning Kung Fu from Shaolin Monks? Or trading blows with famous martial arts movie stars? And c'mon, remember the time dad taught me how to wrestle an Ussuri Brown Bear to the ground?! Tell me that wasn't awesome!"
"Those were some rather fun moments, weren't they?" Her mother smiled in reminiscence. "But, you need to make friends and socialize while you're still young. And fighting that street gang in Hong Kong is not what I mean by 'making friends and socializing!'" She added, knowing exactly what her daughter was going to say next.
"C'mon, Red Fist Rei said 'we'll meet again!' when I beat out three of his teeth and busted his gang's hideout!" Aisha laughed. "Sounds like I've got at least one friend in Hong Kong." Her mother shook her head wearily.
"I feel as though I've failed as a mother."
She led her daughter through Takayama, which Aisha looked around with some enthusiasm. Though she had been traveling almost her whole life, she had rarely gone to Japan, her mother's home country, and even then, it was only to areas far more rural, like the beaches of Okinawa, or the farmlands of Hokkaido, so taking in the urban landscape was something of a new experience for her.
Unlike the big cities of China, Takayama was fairly small, both in overall size, and population; Aisha remembered times in Beijing and Shanghai where there was very little breathing room on the streets because of the sheer, massive numbers of people that crowded them. Here though, everything around her felt much smaller by comparison, but of course one thing that didn't change, what never changed, was the number of eyes on her.
Aisha wasn't exactly ashamed of standing out, and it showed with her unusual outfits, which blended Chinese and Japanese styles of martial arts clothing. She stood out in a crowd, no matter what city of what country in the world she went to, and while this exasperated her parents at times, she didn't really mind. She lived for fighting and physical competition, and she had come to learn over the years that standing out almost always guaranteed her that someone would step up to challenge her.
"So, remind me again..." Aisha said as her eyes scanned the town's manga district. "Why are we specifically staying here, of all places? I mean, isn't the tournament taking place in Tokyo?"
"The preliminaries are taking place in Tokyo, Aisha." The mother clarified with a moan. "I've told you several times..."
"Why not live in Tokyo then?"
"Because Takayama is my hometown," Aisha's mother cast a confident smirk to her daughter. "Which means it's home to the best place in Japan for us to train for the coming battles."
"Oh?" Aisha grinned interestedly, her attention now centered on her mother. "Do tell!"
"I knew you would be interested. The Aoyama Dojo; the place where I trained when I was growing up. It's within those walls that I learned everything I knew before I met your father."
"What kinda place is it?" Aisha asked enthusiastically. "Who was the master? Who's the champion student? Are they still around? Can I kick their butts?"
Her mother laughed lightly at her daughter's burst of enthusiasm. "Yes, in fact, Aoyama-sensei was the one who invited us to live here. I highly doubt you can beat someone of sensei's amazing strength, but you couldn't ask for a better sparring partner. As for the champion student, he's been training in America, so I'm afraid you won't be able to face him any time soon. You may remember seeing him in some of your favorite martial arts films..."
"Wait, no way!" Aisha grinned with amazement. "Are you seriously talking about Wan Lao?!"
"I am indeed." Her mother smirked. "I even remember training alongside him before he became a star." She sighed in blissful reminiscence. "Oh, we used to get so heated up whenever we sparred together... we'd even have to hold tie-breakers in the bedroom just to let off all of our pent-up tension~! Wonder if he would still be willing to take ol' Motoko in another tie breaker~? I hear he's taking part in the tournament, after all…!"
"Okay, wow. I had no idea that a talk about my favorite movie star could be so awkward…" Aisha spoke up, hardly interested in hearing about her mother's sex life.
"Aisha!" Motoko said indignantly. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but there are a lot of men with very admirable muscle structures in this world. It would be a shame not to pay admiration where it's due."
"I'm all for admiring the 'muscle structures' of men and women alike," Aisha rolled her eyes. "But can you at least keep it in your kimono until we get home?"
"Fine." Motoko sighed. "But first…" She scurried quickly around a corner. "I have to go grab some supplies!"
"What kind of…?" Aisha was ready to ask, but as she turned the corner, it was just in time to see her mother disappear inside of an unmarked building in a somewhat shady part of town. She peeked through the door of the windowless building to see that her mother was rifling through dirty magazines of what was unmistakably a sex shop.
"Seriously, mom?!" Aisha groaned, shaking her head as she stepped inside to fish her mother out of the store's magazine aisle. "Sometimes I can't tell which one of us is really the parent in this family." She muttered with some disbelief.
"Excuse me, miss." Said a lady at the front counter. "Need to see some ID." Aisha was ready to reach for her pocket, when a young man groped her breasts from behind.
"No worries!" He called. "She's good!"
"No…" Aisha grumbled. She turned and kicked the groper square in the chest, sending him crashing into the front door. "NOW, I'm good."
"Ooh, a fighter chick~!" The young man smirked as he took a fighting stance, his yellow eyes glinting playfully. "Wanna show me what you got?"
"Take it outside." The lady at the front desk said lazily as Aisha moved to hit him again.
"Fine by me!" she smirked, cracking her knuckles.
"Aisha, if I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times," Motoko sighed absent-mindedly, her eyes glued to a very erotic male centerfold. "Don't go starting fights in public."
"It's not a fight, mom." Aisha grinned. "I'm just teaching a boy why he should keep his hands to himself."
"Okay. Have fun, then." Motoko said, still barely paying attention to anything outside of the 'hard-on highlights' section of her magazine. "Damn, I guess they call him 'Wang' for a reason~!"
"So… I'm a 'fighter chick', huh?" Aisha leered at the lecherous male as she faced him outside of the shop.
"And here I thought today was gonna be boring." The man grinned as he took a fighting stance. "I haven't been able to train for the tournament all week."
"You're seriously a fighter too?" Aisha rolled her eyes. All she saw was a perverted street punk with the jacket of his school uniform hanging lazily over his shoulders, slicked back brown hair, and swirling dark tattoos lining his arms that she thought had to be fake. "What kind of fighter hangs around in a smut shop groping every girl who walks in?"
"The kind who knows how to party." The man smirked flirtatiously. "Friends call me Kitsune, by the way. How 'bout you?"
"You say that like I consider you a friend." Aisha stepped in close, and struck Kitsune with a strong blow to his leg, forcing him down onto one knee. "I'm Aisha, and forgive me if I'm not particularly pleased to meet you."
Kitsune smirked as he got back up with a swift upper kick, which Aisha backed away from, before blocking an incoming punch from him, and countering with a strike to his cheek.
"Tai Tzu, huh?" Kitsune smirked as he staggered backward. "You've been around, haven't you?"
"Oh? So you actually do know a thing or two about martial arts?" Aisha smirked. "And here I thought you were just a perverted dope."
"A man can be both, can't he?" Kitsune chuckled. He charged at Aisha, and attempted a leg sweep, which she hopped over effortlessly. He followed up with a quick jab to the shoulder, which unbalanced Aisha, who jumped back at his incoming attack.
"Kenpo Black Belt." Kitsune smirked. "Second Degree."
"Okay then…" Aisha backed into a defensive posture, excited to face a strong opponent. "Let's see what you can do."
"Awright! Go, fighter chick!" A group of boys cheered behind Aisha, who looked back at them between surprise, confusion, and annoyance at the name given to her.
"People 'round here love a good fight, especially around combat season." Kitsune shrugged. "So, why not give 'em a show?"
"Combat season, huh?" Aisha chuckled. "Sounds like fun. I think I'm liking this place already. Alright, I'll put on a show." She turned her head to the gathering crowd. "But the name's Aisha! Next one who calls me 'fighter chick'…!" She slammed a fist into her hand, before returning her attention to the fight at hand. She rolled her eyes as she effortlessly blocked a punch from Kitsune that'd been aimed to her face.
"Really? The Yama Tsuki?" She smirked. "Nice try." She pushed away the fist in front of her face. "Most people would be dead-set on blocking attacks to their face, which means they would be too distracted and vulnerable to notice a second, simultaneous attack further down." She moved Kitsune's other hand back too, this one aimed at her gut. "Hope you don't plan on playing tricks like that in the tournament, because moves like that are banned."
"Not in THIS tournament." Kitsune smirked. "Only things banned are weapons, crotch-shots, and armor."
"Now I REALLY can't wait until the prelims get underway!" Aisha grinned enthusiastically. She shoved Kitsune away, and charged him with two consecutive punches, one which grazed his face, and the other which he brushed off, before aiming a palm strike to her gut. The moment the attack connected, much to Aisha's shock, blew her off her feet, where she landed flat on her back.
"What the hell technique was that?!" She yelled in complete disbelief. She had seen some strange and unusual techniques in her travels, but never one that evoked such a strange, and powerful result. "That was no kenpo move."
"Never said Kenpo was the only art that I've studied." Kitsune pointed out, smirking. "That was a sample of the Blooming Lotus Style. One of my favorite moves, too: Disarmament."
"Disarmament? Why would it be called…?" She looked down where Kitsune hit her, and turned bright crimson as she saw a giant hole in her shirt where the palm strike landed.
"That was my favorite shirt, you lecherous jackass!" Aisha growled, throwing one arm over the exposed underside of her breasts. She charged at Kitsune, pounding him in the face with her free arm, only for him to land a second Disarmament attack on her side.
Aisha got blown away a second time, and the side of her pants were shredded along with another large piece of her already ragged shirt. Growing more angry with her opponent by the minute, she barreled at Kitsune, who grinned as he dodged to the side, landing a third Disarmament in Aisha's back, and the crowd of men whistled with delight as Aisha was now stripped of both her shirt and bra, her medium-large breasts now bouncing freely.
"What the hell kind of sickos came up with this move!?" She wondered exasperatedly. "You're gonna pay for this!" She yelled, getting back to the fight at hand.
"She's an interesting one." Kitsune observed as Aisha bombarded him with a blind flurry of punches. "When we started out, she was coordinated and skilled like no fighter I've ever seen before. But, it seems that she resorts to using pure brute force over finesse when angered enough. How amusing to see such a common weakness in a fighter as skilled as her…"
"Wide open!" Aisha shouted triumphantly as she landed a kick into Kitsune's chest. His footing lost, he fell onto his knees, where he received a brutal punch in the face that forced him down on his back, but not before he landed one final Disarmament, this one leaving Aisha in only her underwear.
"That's it!" She growled, blushing furiously. "I am going to pound your ass into the ground so hard, you'll come out in America!" But before Aisha could begin to exact her fury on her lecherous opponent, she yelped as a hand grabbed her by the ear.
"Aisha…" She flinched as she heard her mother's soft yet venomous voice in her ear. "What have I told you about starting fights in public?"
"I said I was just teaching that guy to keep his hands to himself." Aisha defended herself as she was pulled away from the crowd.
"And what did you teach him, exactly?" Motoko retorted, looking at her daughter's barely dressed state. "Honestly…" She sighed. "I'm always telling you, no starting fights, and no fighting in public, and yet in every country across Asia, you've picked a fight with somebody."
"This guy deserved it, though!" Aisha defended as she was dragged into the residential area of town. "He was using some weird technique that destroys clothes somehow…"
"What? She's not talking about the Blooming Lotus Style… is she?" Though she didn't outwardly express her shock, Motoko felt a sense of alarm at the mention of such a technique. "How could some street punk know about…?" Though questions flooded her mind, she returned her focus to the present.
"I don't care why you started a fight, or what kind of techniques he knew." She spoke up. "Your father and I have taught you time and again not to misuse what you've learned. I'm not saying that it's right that he groped you, or that he stripped you in public somehow, but mastering martial arts is about more than building muscles and learning a few skills; it takes discipline! Discipline to know that just because you CAN fight doesn't mean that you should do it all the time!"
Aisha sighed as her mother continued to chew her out the whole rest of the way to their apartment, all the while wishing that she had on more than just a pair of frayed boyshorts as people stared at them all the way home.
"Well…" Kitsune grinned, slowly standing up from the place where Aisha had pinned him to the ground. "That was fun." He winced as he tried to stand, his body aching all over from the beating that the infuriated female fighter had given him. "We should do that again some time."
As he walked the streets, ignoring intimidated glances from onlookers who saw his battle damage, Kitsune came across a lone girl more than a head shorter than him in a high school uniform, who gasped when she saw the cuts and bruises that covered her friend's body.
"Oh my! What happened to you, Kitsune?!" She asked with a sense of alarm.
Kitsune laughed. "Don't worry, Miya, just a few scratches. I've come across a rather… interesting fighter, one who would certainly prove to be a challenge in the months ahead."
"It scares me when you get into fights, Kitsune." Miya said in a sugary, affectionate voice, her deep blue eyes looking up into Kitsune's yellow ones as she hugged his arm. "Especially when you come back with so many bruises. I just wanna take you home and nurse you back to health…"
"I'm fine, Miya." Kitsune chuckled, stroking Miya's head and ruffling her dark blue hair. "We can play doctor all you want when we get back to my place, but I wanna check in with the bosses first, kay?"
"Okay."
Miya followed Kitsune into a run-down, abandoned building, which was lit only by the thin strands of sunlight that leaked through the cracks in the boarded-up windows, and both teens stepped down a flight of creaking wooden stairs into the basement, where they were greeted by a few thugs who seemed surprised by Kitsune's beaten-up appearance.
"The bosses are waiting for you, bro." One of them stated.
"Perfect." Kitsune smirked. "Because damn, have I got something interesting to share with them. They're gonna want to hear about the fighter who gave me this kind of trouble."
"Indeed we will." A low woman's voice sounded as the curtain closed behind Kitsune.
Unlike the rest of the hideout, which was dimly sunlit, the place where he stood was completely swallowed by darkness. As his eyes adjusted to the pitch blackness, Kitsune could make out four human forms sitting across from him.
"You're one of our strongest fighters, and yet here you stand bruised and beaten." Another girl's voice spoke, this one much younger with an amused inflection. "I can only assume it's because you've groped the wrong girl."
"You could say something like that." Kitsune smirked. "Just recently, I've come across a young woman by the name of Aisha. I've yet to figure out her last name, but what I do know is that she's mastered a whole slew of martial arts; about five variants of Kung Fu, Taijitsu, Jujitsu, Kenpo… She's probably learned almost every Asian fighting style I can think of…"
"Does that include Blooming Lotus?" A deep-voiced male asked.
"Nope. She's never even heard of it until I gave her a little… demonstration." Kitsune smirked.
"That was a reckless decision, Kitsune." A young, yet commanding male voice scorned.
"Maybe…" Kitsune admitted. "But, for the sake of research, I just had to test her out; she is participating in the tournament, after all."
"And? What did your 'research' yield?"
"First, she's got a hell of a body." Kitsune laughed. "She's been training for her whole life, and it shows…"
One of the bosses gave a stern cough, warning Kitsune to stay focused.
"…And second, while she's hot-tempered, she's looking to be one of the most promising fighters we'll encounter in the coming weeks."
"Do you believe that she would serve to further our plans?" the low-voiced woman asked.
"She's precisely what we need." Kitsune grinned deviously.
To Be Continued...
So... what did you think? Please, give me your thoughts! Hopefully, it won't be long before the next chapter is ready, so I hope to see you then!
In the meantime, here's a little tidbit of martial arts trivia:
Technique of the day: Yama Tsuki
The Yama Tsuki (lit. 'Mountain Punch') is a Karate technique performed by taking one step forward, and attacking with two simultaneous punches, with one aimed for the face, and the other aimed at the torso. Ideally, a practiced fighter would be too occupied with shielding their face, and either be distracted from, or otherwise vulnerable the second punch lower down. Additionally the upper strike can act as a block from an opponent's attack, allowing it to be used as a defensive move or counterattack.
However, as Aisha mentioned, this technique is often viewed as a 'cheap shot', and as such, the Yama Tsuki is banned in many official martial arts competitions.
