Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I've come to you with a tale. One that will hopefully span multiple story arcs if I'm able-bodied. This story revolves around the Man with the Seven Scars, Kenshiro of Hokuto no Ken fame. I love this character more than any I've seen, because he's not your typical mild-mannered Anime protagonist. He is considered the Superman of Anime; whenever a new problem rears its head, he has something to counter it. Whether its immunity to poison, super-human strength, or the ability to blow someone's brains out with a pinky, he gets the job done.
I had never seen him written in a role where any sort of affection was pointed his way. Although I found this a little strange, I figured that it was understandable; to be honest, the guy is difficult to get close to. I hope I can break that facade for you now with this story I've written for you, or at least the first chapter.
Enjoy.
- I do not own anything from Hokuto no Ken, nor do I own anything from Sekirei.
Chapter 1 - Hokuto Burns Bright
Has it been this long? This long without something to fight for? Friends to protect? ...this long without Yuria?
The setting sun shone brightly this day, the harsh wind cutting into this man's cloak as he trudged on. Though there was no direction, nothing to push him forward, he had to keep moving. So long as he still existed in this world, he would dispense the will of the heavens upon those who would do harm upon the weak and helpless. This he had promised, on the grim day of his destiny's revelation, to a young girl called Danne. Life can be cruel, and has proven itself so time and time again. How many friends has he lost to this madness? How many lives have these mighty fists taken? How much longer, before he can finally find peace in this forsaken world? All this time on his own left him to his thoughts, and they began to wear his spirit thin.
Night was soon upon him, the last vestiges of light from the setting sun a mere sliver on the horizon; not unlike a katana's edge. The stars of Hokuto lit his path well tonight, they appeared to glow with a stronger hue of late.
Seconds, minutes, hours passed. The sound of the wind began to wane, leaving him with only the sound of dried ground crunching under his heel as he kept his steady pace. Shrouded in his own thoughts, the change in scenery only became clear when ancient stone began to hamper the moon and stars from lighting his path. The mouth of a dry ravine loomed before him, bereft of vegetation as was nearly everything in this world. His steps echoed as he proceeded further in.
Time felt as though it stood still, his footfalls echoing throughout the ravine. Natural stone gave way to worked stone walls. The broken remains of ancient statues littered the ground at his feet. This so-called ravine became something else entirely once he reached the end of his journey. Before him, clad in quiet darkness, stood a temple of sorts, its dusty wooden gates closed shut. All around him there was silence; no wind blew, no stones fell from the cliff faces, if someone were to breathe besides himself there would be no doubt that he could detect where it would be coming from.
Something... strange, was pushing him towards this place. Silently guiding him from beyond the stars of Hokuto. Was it the heavens, once again showing him the path to his destiny? Would he finally find the next path within the silent halls of this temple?
Opening the doors was surprisingly easy; whatever lock or bar that had once kept this place shut to outsiders must have rusted away long ago. The night sky brightened with the light of the moon as soon as the doors were ajar. A sign of the heavens?
Though it would take a few minutes before his eyes could become accustomed to the darkness, large statues - similar to those from his master Ryuken's own temple, - lined the walls. Great foreboding statues depicting the war gods of his ancestors.
Through some strange mechanism, or perhaps something otherworldly, old torches ensconced between the statues came to life whenever he crossed their path. The orange glow of the torchlight made shadows dance over the faces of the statues, their eyes almost appearing to be following his progress through the chamber.
The lights led him to the far end of this derelict edifice. Although it was once a beautiful chamber, years of abandonment and neglect has left the dome roof of this main chamber crumble into nothing, letting in shafts of starlight down into this solemn place.
At the epicenter of this chamber, partially shrouded in darkness, sat a somber statue. Its formidable size showed it to be the patron deity of this temple, what features visible in the faint light given off by both stars and torches showing an angry expression, and powerful arms wielding cruel-looking weapons.
The strange pull of this place felt strongest at this chamber, where the great statue of this war-god sat before him. What was this feeling? It felt familiar, and yet he had never experienced this before. Perhaps this had something to do with those practitioners of Hokuto Shinken before him.
Pushing his cloak off of his shoulders, the man lowered himself into a sitting position, calming his breathing. Putting himself into a meditative state might bring him some insight as to what was compelling him to this sanctuary.
His will forced his primary senses to ignore the sound of the wind outside, to ignore the crackle of the torches. The distant noise of water dripping. Ignore the smells of must and decay, the feeling of the cold, hard stone beneath him. To clear his mind, he had to be empty of everything.
What felt like hours slipped by. His mind's eye could only see utter darkness. And yet, he could feel something just out of view, skirting his vision. The darkness crept back, revealing the war-god statue sitting before him. It loomed over him, like a giant stares down at an insect. Something intense, similar to a fighting aura permeated from the statue. Its eyes felt almost alive, staring down into the very depths of his soul.
Before him, the statue spoke.
"...At last, man of Hokuto. You have come."
What? Did it speak to him?
"You know of me?" His voice sounded deep and coarse, due to so much time wandering without human contact.
"I know of you, as have I known your predecessors before you - back since the days of Yore; during the time of the Three Kingdoms." The voice was deep, akin to what you would expect a mountain to sound had it the ability of speech.
"Who are you?" There was silence for a moment.
"I am Bishamonten, god of war. Your people have worshiped me centuries past as the Guardian of the North, and as a dispenser of justice to the wicked. Your Hokuto Shinken was passed down to the very first practitioners through my guidance. I have seen nearly a hundred generations of Hokuto Shinken rise and fall." His words still echoed deep within his heart. The warrior god, one of the mighty four God Kings himself, was addressing him. A bright amber aura lined the edges of the statue. An undeniable pressure exerted upon him. This was different than anyone he had met with the skill to produce such an aura. Stronger than Raoh, even stronger than Kaioh.
"Why did you beckon me, God King?"
"Because you have a destiny, man of Hokuto; one steeped in the teachings of both the gods and the stars." Goosebumps covered his arms. Although there was no wind, he could feel a chill in the air, running up his spine.
Bishamonten's eyes were aglow, a soft amber light radiating from the statue.
"This era of fear and suffering is soon coming to an end; your path has ripped apart the oppressors that would have subjugated the few whom have a chance at peace in this new frontier." A hint of pride rang true in the voice.
"The people will soon prosper, the horrors of their past mistakes put behind them. Perhaps they will refrain from committing the same mistake twice; that is up to them to decide."
The amber globes within the statue erupted but for a brief moment.
"Your journey upon this world has come to an end, Kenshiro."
After all this time, he knew; this was where he would find peace. He could reunite with his family, his friends. Yuria.
"But your life does not end here, Man of Hokuto; this is simply the beginning of a greater destiny."
Kenshiro's eyes widened ever so slightly, the remainder of his face creased in a look of quiet scrutiny. "What is the meaning of this? Am I to never find peace?"
"The fate of one who is entwined in Hokuto is an unfortunate one, but necessary if peace is to return once and for all."
Kenshiro took a deep breath, calming himself. To let his emotions have free reign now would garner him nothing. There was a point to this; there is always a point to all of this.
"Surrounding the North Star and the Big Dipper are one hundred and eight stars. Though their position changes throughout time, Hokuto remains stalwart and unmoving. Hokuto remains the bulwark against the approaching darkness that threatens to swallow the one hundred and eight."
Kenshiro digested this information for a time. There was always something deeper to Hokuto's link with the other stars; Nanto Seiken, Gento Koken, they were all linked in some way with the Fist of Hokuto.
"What do the hundred and eight stars have to do with the North Star?"
"Since time immemorial, the hundred and eight have been under the protection of Hokuto's light; bathed in the protective radiance of the Big Dipper, the hundred and eight hold back the darkness that threatens to envelop all worlds." The last word brought his brow down in thought. Worlds?
He shut his eyes for a moment, his mind pushing out the myriad of questions nipping at him.
"What has happened that you would beseech my aid, Bishamonten?"
Were the statue capable of movement, Kenshiro might have seen a smile on its grim features. The light of the statue's eyes shifted and glistened. "The hundred and eight have fallen from the heavens and have taken physical form. A conniving mortal has dared to defile their purity, and is using them for some twisted little game. We will not abide by this; they must be protected."
The concept was a little far-fetched, but who was he to argue? The past few months have all led to this. He had no intention of doubting what was before him.
"What must I do, God King?"
A deep rumble shook the pit of Kenshiro's stomach. It was seeping into the core of his being. The sensation was not unlike when he used his Musou Tensei.
"You must go to them, Kenshiro. You must protect these stars that have fallen from the heavens. The journey will be a strange one, but stranger things are yet to come." The aura around the statue intensified, rays of golden light touching the far walls of the chamber.
"I shall whisk you through the winds of time, to a different era and place. Be ready, Kenshiro. What you see will be quite different from the life you've known for so long."
The radiance of the statue ebbed for a moment, and was gone; the statue, once again swallowed in darkness. His mind was beginning to wane. He could feel his consciousness slipping rapidly. Soon, there was nothing but darkness.
Although the moon was bright this night, there were no stars to been seen in the sky above Shin-Tokyo; all the city lights prevented the stars from being seen. At the epicenter of Shin-Tokyo looms a great building, an ivory tower of sorts. At one of its many courtyards, a set of large iron doors raise themselves. Various strangely dressed girls flew out of the opening and into the night.
"That should be the last of them." The voice was feminine, if a but gruff. The lone orange dot of a cigarette revealed the short silver hair and facial scar. The cigarette dissipated into the night air when she released a tired sigh. "Inform the Chairman, and bring me the reports to my desk tomorrow morning. I have a splitting headache."
"Yes, Takami-san."
The sound of the footsteps weakened not long after, leaving Sahashi Takami alone in the darkness of the MBI building.
Taking another drag of her cigarette, a horrible chill runs up her spine. A feeling of dread grabs a hold of her heart as though a frigid clawed hand had taken hold of it, refusing to let go. Due to the surrounding darkness, her eyes were accustomed enough to the night enough to see something shine in the sky. It looked like stars.
"What in the world...?", her voice trailing off when she recognized the cluster of stars as the Big Dipper. They shone brighter and brighter, almost like a beacon. The feeling of dread was squeezing her insides something fierce. Buckling her knees, Takami leaned against the bay doors for support, her eyes locked onto the strange phenomenon.
Takami, her eyes transfixed, managed to catch a glimpse of something descending from where the Big Dipper was situated; a pulse of light coming down from the heavens into the city. The grip on her heart relented, letting her breathe in a sigh of relief. Her brow furrowed in thought.
"What could have caused that? Was it a meteorite?" She flicked her cigarette onto the concrete. "No meteorite could have made the stars glow bright enough for me to see all the way here in the city."
As if in answer to her questions, a memory flashed through her mind for but a fleeting moment. An old tapestry depicting three ancient warriors poised in archaic fighting poses, the big dipper woven in their midst. The inscription 'God Fist of the Northern Star' leaped to her attention.
Her face became pale then, her expression grim. "I'd read the legends... but," her hand raked back her head of hair, "if it has to do with the Big Dipper..."
Groaning with the stress and fatigue of the day's events, Takami shook the grave portents out of her head. It would not do her any good to think about any of this so late at night, and with already so little sleep garnered these days she needed to get to bed.
With one last wary look at the night sky, she made her way home.
At a large house, in the northern part of Shin-Tokyo, a young woman was finishing her sweeping as was her normal routine. Her well-kept purple hair and traditional clothes held the moon's glow upon them as she pushed the dust of the day's activities off of the main path.
Leaning against the butt of her broom, she looked up at the night sky. It was a clear night, even though the city lights prevented her from gazing at the stars. Then something caught her eye.
A cluster of stars as bright as the moon gleamed on the blanket of night sky. They had a glow to them that warmed her heart. A small smile came to her lips as she star-gazed for a moment; it was as if these seven stars heard her quiet plea.
Something felt strange. The constellation - the Big Dipper as it stands, - appeared to be getting brighter. Her heart was beating harder, as though it was in anticipation of something.
A burst of light shot forth from the Big Dipper, slicing apart the night sky like the tip of a Katana. A heavy thump hit her chest; like thunder without sound. Putting her hand on her heart, a familiar heat washed over her. The heat one of her kind would feel when an Ashikabi was near.
"...How?" The word left her lips more as a reflex than true confusion. The feeling came abruptly, but there was no mistaking it; she was reacting strongly to someone. But it had happened the moment something had come down from the sky.
The young maiden's eyes widened, her soft hands gripping the broom handle tightly. Her potential Ashikabi's emotional spectrum hit her. Jaw dropped, mouth working to speak words that would not come, the young maiden tried to make sense of what she was feeling.
This individual had such a scarred heart, it made her nearly fall to her knees. She had to fight the urge to weep as her eyes shut tightly against the torrent of emotion washing over her.
She could feel his heart, a serene temple of inner peace, a golden glow that overflowed with selflessness and unrequited kindness. At its core, a tightly sealed sphere of righteous fury was roiling like the stomach of a volcano, ready to lash out at this person's beck and call. Holding this core of rage and fury in check was a permeating shroud that she could only explain as love, but it was so much more. Such a pure heart she had never thought possible; that she would specifically feel the heart of someone like this, to know that someone existed with a heart like this was as unlikely as lightning striking twice.
What had made her stumble were the scars etched deeply across the entire expanse of this person's heart; etched too deeply for anyone to endure. Such scars of sadness, she had difficulty comprehending what could have put them there. As if to give her an understanding, an image of her now deceased husband floated up from the surface of her mind. Each of these scars were similar to her loss. But to have so many...
She had to take deep breaths in order to calm herself, lest she spoke in a broken voice to her tenants when she retired for the night. The urge to find this person was incredible, it had kept her from moving for a few minutes at the very least.
'No good would come from acting rashly', she thought. Tomorrow was another day, and she would keep this person's heart as close to hers as possible until they finally met face to face.
Throughout Shin-Tokyo, Sekirei felt the presence of their Hokuto counter-part. A feeling of warmth entered their hearts as one, a missing feeling having been given back to them. Though all Sekirei could sense the change within them, only a rare few could sense the coming of someone unexpected. Their hearts beat as one, wept as one, for this person who had the potential of being their Ashikabi.
One such person looked forlornly to the sky where the star of Hokuto shimmered in the night, wandering the city with nowhere to go, feeling something she should no longer be allowed to feel.
Another gazed out of her room's window, a hand on her chest. Her longing for her Ashikabi had been powerful, but the sensation it had brought proved to be more than she felt she could handle. Her hands idly stroked a wagtail costume she had been fixing, her mind wandered elsewhere.
A stern-looking woman, first with a look of surprise and disgust, now clutched at her chest, looking down at the streets below. For someone to stir such emotions within her was unprecedented. The singe marks and puddles of water dotting the surrounding rooftops - once a reminder of her battle not long ago, - now lay aside, forgotten.
Somewhere, upon the skeletal makings of a new building, the sweet scent of sake soared along with the warm wind, warming the cheeks of another who gazed wistfully at the star of Hokuto, attempting to picture in her head the kind of person who could stir such feelings deep within her.
Within the confines of the MBI citadel, a child wept silently into her pillow, trying to cope with the torrential storm of emotion broiling within her this night.
A young maiden's gaze swept the city sky-line, pining for whatever had stirred up the flames within her. The creak of leather from her red gloves filled her ears as she tightened her fists, holding them at her sides while her gaze swept the city one last time this night.
Under the light of the moon, and under the watchful gaze of the North Star, a man lay naked in an old abandoned warehouse, the roof having collapsed under the impact of his fall. Though he is unconscious, Kenshiro's calm breathing betrays his sleep only the good spirits who watch over him, even now. His brothers Raoh and Toki, his friends of Nanto, his beloved Yuria as well.
"...Yu..ria..."
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter - I'm afraid as to whether or not it was too long, but I had this idea as to where I wanted the chapter to finish. I will continue to write as much as I possibly can, so please rate, give me reviews, any criticism would be welcomed.