Warnings: T for mild swearing and some violence but nothing too graphic.

N/A.: Inspired by DF-chan's 'Games', which can be found inside the collection 'The Byakuran Effect'. Don't forget to check it out! It's awesome!

Finally, special thanks to my wonderful beta WhitishBlack, who not only revised the story but also helped me reshape some parts that were a bit confusing. And now, on with it!


01. Level I: Sun's Radiance

Namimori, Japan – Wasarenakusa Stadium

A silver haired young man was standing alone behind the great double doors that would lead him to the arena. His eyes glinted dangerously under the fluorescent lights as he took deep, calming breaths the way he had been taught to do before a match.

And this one was truly important. For years he had been preparing for this moment, training, running away, falling and standing up again, driven, as all of his partners were, by the faint chance of a better future. The White Orchid Games, the very same thing that had destroyed their childhood, was the only way they could fight back; and even if his morals clashed or he felt disgusted for what he was about to do, he trusted his boss, knowing that there was no other way.

With a high-pitched sound, the loudspeakers came to life and the door opened, letting in the blinding light in the stadium, the sun's rays filtering into the grand space through the retractable roof. The audience roared as his opponents were introduced; so he waited, fidgeting with suppressed energy until he heard his call: "and against them we have a daring newcomer. They appeared suddenly a month ago, yet nothing is known about this Family except for their name. Ladies and gentlemen, they are… The Clam!"

Silence followed as everyone watched curiously towards the white doors as a loud stomping sound was heard, as if a small army was about to appear. And all the audience gaped when a man who looked as if he barely was on his twenties appeared alone. His knuckles were bandaged, though they didn't seem hurt, and he had the build of a boxer. As he made his way to the center of the stadium, the whispers and murmurs followed him.

"Who is that? The Guardian?"

"He doesn't have any subordinates. Does he plan to go against Kuroi Chi alone?"

"The Clam has done well enough on matches of one vs. many."

"Maybe with no-good teams. I bet the rest of the family is in waiting to ambush Kuroi Chi."

"Dumbass! The rules say that all fighters must be present at the beginning of the match. They'd be here already."

"Speaking of which, isn't this a violation of the rules? The 5% what-cha-ma-call-it?"

"They haven't had a problem before, because-"

The man arrived at the center and inhaled deeply, casting aside his dark thoughts to enjoy the thrill of the competition. Before anyone could speak any more, he bellowed at the top of his lungs. "EXTREMEEE!"

The crowd fell silent, as he prepared to shout again. "The name is Sasagawa Ryohei! Guardian and ONLY active member of the Sun Clam! I'll defeat all of my rivals to the extreme!"

His speech was interrupted by the guffaws of his opponents. The leader, a foul-looking man with crooked teeth sneered at him, signaling at his seven companions. "Are you mocking us? What the hell do you think you can do on your own! Judge get this fool out of here!" He ordered the pink dressed woman. Behind her mask, she frowned at his disrespectfulness.

"The Clam's Sun team is in order. The match will proceed as planned." The Cervello said impassively. She seemed to be the only person in the stadium unaffected by the Clam's entrance. Her clan was, after all, specialized in creating rules and mediating conflicts; as long as it was legal, it would not meet surprise or punishment on her part. The loudspeakers came to life once again. "And now we can finally begin! Players, please be on your guards! Ready!..."

"START!" The shout was muffled by the audience's roars, as everyone concentrated on the show, some skeptical, some amused. The Kuroi Chi gang didn't bother to attack right away; they were well known by their fighting skills, so a mere brat could not hope to be victorious.

The thugs were still laughing when Ryohei easily barreled towards them, sending his left fist soaring towards the nearest one's face; the force of the punch threw him backwards, as his surprised companions scrambled out of his way, and with a thud he hit the wall behind him, falling unconscious. Not sparing another look towards him, the boxer sidestepped, changing his stance swiftly to punch a second man in the gut, and then a third in the jaw promptly ducking as his enemies finally got out of his stupor.

"Extreme!"

"Why you little…!" Five men left, but here was where it got dangerous. From the corner of his eyes, Ryohei saw something glint in the leader's hand, and only his instincts saved him from being stabbed. He backed away slowly, studying his surroundings; if he let himself get surrounded, the match would be as good as over.

One of the remaining men, a thirty-year-old-something with greasy hair attacked suddenly, sending a roundhouse kick to his side; Ryohei blocked it with his left arm, only to fall down, clutching the limb in pain. The next kick sent him flying a few meters, robbing him of breath. Amongst the haze in his mind, he was able to see two couple of legs coming towards him; he struggled to his knees, grabbing one of them and twisting it in an awkward angle, barely registering the howl of pain as another opponent fell down; he escaped the next attack by a hair's length, and missing his step, slammed into a shorty who was trying to get some sort of weapon out. He used his leverage to thrust his elbow down, wincing when a sick crack informed him that he had effectively broken the guy's nose.

Three men left. The leader had a murderous expression on his face, dagger in hand; flanking him was the extreme kicker and… a young teen, trembling and looking at him with deer's eyes. Ryohei felt the fury swell within him; he didn't need to know the kid to know his story. It was not strange to see it over and over again, even if most Families tried to hide those captives (since that was what most of them were) until having brainwashed them completely.

"Well, well… we've found a little fighter here," the right hand man sneered, interrupting his train of thought, hands in his pocket. "Good job getting rid of the small fries… now I'll be your rival." He looked over his shoulder. "Mind if I have some fun first, Guardian?"

"Do whatever the hell you want. Hikaru, you better watch closely."

"Ye…yes, sir…" The boy answered in a murmur, not quite meeting his boss' gaze. He was trembling all over the place, and Ryohei saw red when he noticed the bruises barely visible under the loose shirt.

His little moment of hesitation was not lost on the other man, and a strike to his gut had Ryohei doubled, gasping for breath. "Don't resist boy, it won't end well for you!" With his eyes half closed, the silver haired man almost couldn't see the hit directed to his face, only barely jumping backwards to avoid a clean hit.

He fell to one knee, fighting to get back his bearings when the man loomed over him, sending him sprawling to the ground. With a sick delight, he stepped on his left wrist, making him cry in pain. Ryohei tried to break free, but in his trashing he suddenly felt something inside pulling the wrong way, and a scream broke from his lungs again. Licking his lips, the sneering man got up, cackling. "Bet you can't use that hand anymore, boy."

He put his hands back in his pocket, looking over his shoulder. "You little pest. Finish him off." He barked at the scared teen.

"I… I…" The young warrior stuttered, his eyes growing larger that it seemed possible.

"Do it. Properly this time." The guardian confirmed, giving him his own dagger brusquely, watching the scene with the same poorly contained glee as his second in command. Ryohei breathed deeply through the nose, willing the pain to go away and his vision to clear. Something like this would not be the end.

The scared teen was advancing slowly with an unsteady grip on the weapon and glistening eyes. Ryohei gritted his teeth. "You! You don't want to fight, do you? Don't let them rule your life!"

"No I… I can't… you don't…"

"Don't speak to that trash, idiot. I didn't hire you to think."

Hire? The boy flinched and Ryohei got to his feet, hissing. Hikaru was not there of his own volition, that much was obvious. Why the Company turned a blind eye to this injustice was one of the things he would never understand, and the one thing he loathed the most.

In all truth, that had been a side effect that no one could have predicted once the W.O. Games started becoming more and more popular and as they became the important pillar of social standing that they had become: A sudden and merciless hunt for 'talents'; that is flame users that had remained unknown until that moment, many having been unaware of their own power. Especially new Families that desperately needed more numbers began bribing, threatening or even kidnapping civilians in other to increase their ranks. Children were especially targeted, since they could be trained and shaped as the leader saw fit, easily gaining their loyalty.

As the years passed, it had become increasingly difficult to hide, and many lived in fear that their loved ones would disappear in the middle of the night, never to be seen again.

He knew that better than anyone. After all, if it hadn't been for their Sky, where would he be now?


Eight years ago


A child was running down the street as fast as his short legs could carry him. He didn't risk looking back to where his pursuers where; he leaped onto the road not caring for the red traffic light, ignoring the angry honks of the cars in his haste. Only sheer luck saved him from certain death.

He wiped the blood sweeping from his eyebrow with a hand, but it soon obscured his vision again. His head hurt like it was going to explode, his vision blurred at times and he seemed unable to run in a straight line; the most rational part of his brain said that that could not be normal; but he could not stop.

At least, he mused, the scary men were all after him now; his sister was safe, his parents were safe. But he had promised to come back, so getting caught was not an option. Running forever was out of the question, as un-extreme as that was, so the only thing he could do was fight back and hope for the best.

He could hear their footsteps coming closer, and the angry shouts behind him made him reconsider his plan. He might not be the smartest cookie in the jar, but he knew that going against six grown men with his eleven year old strength was a recipe for disaster.

So what was left? Hide? He looked around frantically; but where?

Each breath hurt more than the rest, and he realized that he was running out of time; with horror he noticed that the streets were becoming less and less crowded as he kept going forward. The people, who unknowingly slowed down his wannabe captors, had been the best defense he'd had.

He never saw the person in front of him until they collided and went tumbling on the floor. With a startled gasp he fought to get back on his feet and was ready to strike back when the sight before him fully registered, and his fist stopped midway.

It was a boy, about the same age as his little sister, with brown hair and big caramel eyes. Their gazes locked for a moment, until they heard the silver head pursuers and the kid's startled expression turned hard. Getting up quickly, he took the older boy's hand and began drawing him down the street, his strides short but resolute. The boy led him through different alleys, turning sharply and changing directions often; before long, he was completely lost.

Finally they arrived to a run-down space that the injured child vaguely recalled to be an amusement park that had to close a few years ago. As they hastily crossed the gates, the brunet began looking around, until he finally seemed to find what he was looking for in one of the buildings.

"Takeshi! Enemies!" At his shout, another boy appeared on the door, with a surprised look on his face. His eyes scanned the silveret suspiciously before nodding slightly and running back inside. For the first time since they met, the strange boy turned to face him. "Come on, we are almost there!"

Dumb-founded, he could only follow his lead as they passed the merry-go-round where most of the horses were missing or broken, and jumped on the tracks for the bumper cars where they finally stopped.

"What…?" He began to ask, but was interrupted when the thugs finally caught up. One of them, presumably the leader snarled. "You brat…! Come quietly and let us do our job!"

The brunet put a hand on the other boy's shoulder, replying. "No way! Get lost!" Even in his state, the silveret noticed that he was trembling. He couldn't let this boy get hurt just for trying to help! He tried to take a step, but the other's grip only intensified. "He doesn't want to go with you, leave him alone!"

"Boy…" He said with a raspy voice, trying to make him understand.

"Please, trust me." The boy murmured, as if he knew what was on his head. "My friend is almost there."

But before he could say anything, all of the thugs had already stepped inside the attraction, and were surrounding them. At that moment, several things happened at once.

First, the lights that should not function anymore switched on simultaneously, blinding them; at the same time, the kid spun around, dragging him towards the stall and with a loud noise, all of the bumper cars came to life, all moving forward without any kind of control. The men tried to get away, shoving against their colleagues as the machines accelerated towards them from every angle. With an almighty crash, everything became silent once again.

The runaway opened his eyes slowly, looking up to his saviors. When the fact registered in his brain that he was no longer being chased, his adrenaline rush faded away and he soon fell into unconsciousness.


Present time


It was immoral. It was wrong. Feeling his resolve grow stronger, he threw caution to the wind; he had spent weeks preparing for this first match, and would not let his friends, his family down. They would right this world with their own hands.

He abruptly charged at the still indecisive teen, who, frightened, was not able to react and taking advantage of this distraction he passed by his side without a second thought; heading for the most active fighter. The kicker however, was able to see his intentions a second before they happened and he thrust his leg to the side, targeting Ryohei's injured wrist. With a determined glare, he moved his arm before the hit came, catching the other's ankle with his left and fighting hard to keep his vision from blurring, ignoring the pain that soared up to his shoulder and set his hand on fire. Wincing slightly, he didn't miss this chance swiftly tightening his grip on the other's leg to immobilize him. Then he stretched his right shoulder backwards, "Maximum canon!"

The man grunted as he fell down, spitting blood mixed with saliva as he got to his knees, seemingly stunned. He began to get up, rigid, to begin his counterattack. But Ryohei was already upon him again, and this time he was faster. He hit him in the chest, just below the neck and when the man was down once again, Ryohei knew he wouldn't get back up.

Ryohei was panting hard, his left arm was almost useless now, and black spots began to appear at the corner of his eyes. In front of him, the last man smirked, uninjured. The guardian had retreated as his men received the blunt of the Clam's attack, and now he was about to use that advantage. His eyes took a dangerous glint as his gaze locked with Ryohei's battered form. "Brat, you are giving me a headache." Ryohei didn't answer, merely readjusting his stance so he could have him. Sweat was rolling freely down his temple. "You might have been a worthy opponent had this been a one on one battle."

"But you never would be." Ryohei spat.

The man approached him with lazy steps, taking his time circling around his prey and Ryohei held back a grunt; even if he didn't want to admit it, he was having a hard time simply to stand.

Then the man smirked gleefully; and suddenly, two arms appeared behind Ryohei, pinning him in place. As he struggled, he could hear the ragged breath behind him; one of the underlings was not as unconscious as it had seemed at first. Still fighting to free himself, his attention was redirected to the dagger coming his way; coming closer, barely a meter away and no matter how he moved he would not break free in time! With a shout he jerked his right arm, the grip on his shoulder becoming weaker but it was not enough. Even if he managed to prevent it from hitting a vital spot the fight would be as good as over.

"No!" A black blur moved in front of him as the steel reached him, and with a pained cry, the teenager fell down, clutching his shoulder that was bleeding fast.

"That was stupid."

"Boy!" Ryohei shouted, staring wide eyed at the teen that had saved him. With a roar, he thrust his head backwards with force, using the distance created between him and his attacker by hitting with his half-freed arm as well. Now free, he lunged towards the last man standing, his rage fuelling his movements as he managed to stop the dagger with his left hand, the blood running freely through his fingers, sending his elbow down the other's wrist to make him drop the weapon. His attack didn't stop there, though, as he took his final stance. "MAXIMUM CANON!"

He swayed on his feet, determined to not fall down, not now. Silence reigned in the stadium, until the commentator began shouting once more.

"Ladies and gentleman, we have a winner! Let's give a cheer for The Clam's Sun first victory!"

Once he realized that there was no one else standing, that he had truly done it, he spun around, to the fallen teen. The boy had had the sense to press a cloth against his shoulder to slow the blood flow; his face hidden by shadows. When Ryohei arrived by his side, however, he looked up and gave him a shaky laugh. "That fe-felt… good."

"I did it." Ryohei said, dazed. Suddenly his legs buckled under him, and he fell on his back. Slowly, a disbelieving laugh made it through his lips, as he raised his arm towards the bright sun that shone in the endless blue sky. 'We can do it!'


The Clam vs. Kuroi Chi (Sun match): Victory!


Whew… this is quite the challenge, I don't think I've ever needed to write as many fight scenes as I do with this fic… Reviews are very much appreciated! Please, tell me your opinions!^^

Until next time!