Chapter 12: Facing Facts
This, Mantaro thought to himself, would never have happened to Kevin Mask. In fact, it would not have happened to him if he had won the Chojin Olympics – which is what was actually meant to have happened. It was just some strange cosmic joke that he had not.
But despite how his own mind justified his circumstances, he could not escape them: he had just been "escorted" from a fairground for eating out of the trash.
It seemed pretty harsh to Mantaro. He had not been bothering anyone after all. And surely he had been doing them a favour by helping reduce their waste? Setting four security staff to practically carry him out seemed excessive. It was almost as if none of them had even recognised him, because as they had closed the gate on him he had shouted out a reminder to them of his name and his role on their planet: and they had suddenly gone pale and given him funny looks. What was that look on their faces? Was it fear? Pity? Was that it? Had he become something pitiful since losing out the championship to Kevin Mask?
He was confident that he did not look pitiful. He had been through the hall of mirrors and – apart from that oval mirror that had made his face look a little bit piggy and his mid-section look grossly inflated – he had looked really good. And obviously that one mirror that had made him look bad was one of those stupid mirrors they put in there to freak people out. After all, there was nothing fat or pig-like about Mantaro. He was svelte, muscular and gorgeous: everybody knew that. Clearly that mirror was a liar.
But despite looking like an irresistible hunk of a man with a bit of a bad-boy attitude (thanks to his new attire) Mantaro did not feel as great as he looked. In fact, he felt quite miserable. His feet were really hurting. Why had that stupid old man not warned him that the boots were the wrong size for him? Apparently Meat had been right again: there really were a lot of mean people on Earth who would lie to him just to get something from him. He had traded his boots to that man in good faith. That stupid old man was now walking around in Mantaro's boots he had worn especially for the final round of the resurrected Chojin Olympics. Any item of clothing worn that day by Mantaro Kinniku – as the rightful champion – was bound to be worth millions.
Also the food he had been scavenging had left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. It almost tasted like he had eaten something rotten. The security staff of the fairground had thrown him out, but really he ought to have thrown them out for serving such horrid tasting food. Most of it had been soggy and tasted like cheap soda anyway.
But Mantaro had little other choice in the matter. Meat had refused to bring him any money while he was still in the hospital and so Mantaro had been forced to run away penniless. He had hoped that he might meet some girls along the way who would pay him for his autograph, or to have a photograph taken with him. Maybe for other things too. He had paid girls to spend time with him before surely they owed him a return on his investments? But as it was, he had not yet found a way to make any money. Not that he had tried yet, since he had invested all of his free time taking back the championship (which was rightfully his) and trying out being a loner.
Being alone for prolonged periods of time was quite strange. The voice inside his head had been talking a lot more than it usually did. He was not really sure that he wanted to listen to it any more, but it never seemed to stop and so he had no other choice. Most of the time it taunted him as he relieved moments of his failure inside his mind's eyes. Some of the time it contemplated his future. Occasionally it spoke about really nice things that made Mantaro smile, like Rinko.
Mantaro missed Rinko. He had worried for a long time that she had lost interest in him and decided to chase after Jade instead, but he now knew that she preferred him. After all, he was the Chojin Olympics Champion and Jade had lost in his first fight and girls always preferred a winner. Also, whilst he had been feasting from the trash can Mantaro had found a magazine for high school girls which told him that girls who wanted to get more attention from the boy they really liked always did so by pretending to like another boy in an attempt to make the boy they actually wanted jealous. Obviously that was what had been wrong with Rinko lately. She had been playing one of her girly little games to get more of his attention. He wondered what sort of game she had been playing when she had refused to visit him in hospital. Surely there was a name for that game too.
She would be really impressed when she saw Mantaro next. When she saw him stronger, dressed like a rebel and carrying the Chojin Olympics championship she would fall at his feet. He was already sure that she would be really pleased to see him when he did return. He hoped Jacqueline was pleased to see him again too.
Jacqueline really was hot. Rinko was cute, but Jacqueline was hot. She was a real woman. It was quite difficult to believe that she really was related to Harabote and Ikeman, but Mantaro was glad that she was, because that had allowed her to come into his life. And the best bit about Jacqueline was that she liked Mantaro as much as he liked her. After all, she had been all over him at the end of his fight against Kevin Mask, even though he had lost.
Mantaro stopped walking as the voice inside his head began taunting him again and he began reliving his loss yet again. It was a destructive chain reaction that he was powerless to stop once it had begun. Every sight, every sound, every ache and pain was as real as the day it had happened, and still he was doomed to relive his biggest failure and most agonising moment over and over.
When his brain eventually let go of replaying the disastrous end to the Chojin Olympics Mantaro found himself physically exhausted. Looking about himself he was suddenly aware that he could no longer see the fairground and he was out of breath. Apparently he had been running. Perhaps in his desire to escape from his memories and to escape from his past he had been trying to literally run away from them. Maybe he thought if he ran far enough and fast enough, those memories would become meaningless and his past would never bother him again.
Until that time came that he had to go back.
He knew, deep down, that one day he would have to go back to Tokyo, back to Beverly Park, back to Meat and back to the Justice Federation. But until that day came it was important that he focussed on becoming stronger and better than before. When he did return, nobody would recognise him any more, not even Meat.
"Ow!" he groaned, sitting down hard onto a nearby rock.
His feet had gone from feeling a little pained to being crippled with agony. The boots, he thought to himself, had perhaps not been such a good idea after all. But as he looked down at his feet he could not deny that the boots did look good on him and so he decided to persist with wearing them. But perhaps he would stop walking and rest for a while, since the pain was starting to travel up his legs.
