Before we go any further, I feel I should say something... I've written some characters in this story inadequately. Notably, Andy Bogard. I take full responsibility for his arc being utterly lame and unfulfilling, because truthfully, I had no ideas or potential for him. I understand that I upset several people with the Malin vs Mai fight, notably because I used it as a cheap scapegoat to get Andy "motivated" by seeing Mai give her all in that fiery comeback and pass out in his arms. Accusations of "fridging" have been heavily bombarded, and I accept that with no debate.

What I WON'T apologize for is the Malin/Mai fight itself. I stand behind that all the way ; ) but this is mainly about Andy. I shouldn't have copped out and had Andy motivated in that cheap manner. I do apologize.

Giving Andy proper depth in this story will be officially recorded as a failure on my part. Sorry folks. 48 characters, ya know lol. They can't all get the good deal. Enjoy the fights.

Four fights remaining. Everyone was starting to get on edge; the last remaining spots became highly coveted. With only eight fighters left, there was a sense of conclusion starting to buzz in the stomachs of the audience, who'd sat for hours on end and enjoyed the contests. The day would be ending soon... it almost felt unreal. Like the day was meant to go on forever.

Then again, most of the fighters were gone by now. A majority of them were at the hospital, and the healthy ones either mostly went off to celebrate victory, or the few and invested stuck around to finish watching the fights, or support loved ones.


Yashiro Nanasake knew his fate was approaching. A destiny, bestowed upon him... from when he was born? Doesn't remember. All he remembered was growing up, making few friends... but having a natural affinity for guitar. Yes... a guitar prodigy, they called him. A guitar GOD. He started making friends then. LOTS of friends... suddenly, it became a life worth living. He met Shermie, and Chris, and they formed a band...yes, everything was come up roses.

But then HE had to interfere... HE ruined everything! They were set to play their next gig that night... fanciest club in the territory. Money ready and waiting for them upon completion. And that bastard came in... Mr. Perfect, with his stuck-up, snotty-ass little jazz band... they went home penniless that night. But worse than that, a wound that couldn't be measured by the frivolity of money... their pride.

He'd hated Iori Yagami ever since that day. A special type of hate: one that could only stem from a feeling of pure hurt, pure WRONGING... the man had screwed with his livelihood. Made him question himself. His worth. His purpose in life. He was going to kill him. Tear the skin from his broken bones, rip out that ridiculous red hair, strand by bloody strand, destroy those fingers so horrifically, the man would never again entertain the notion of picking up an instrume-

...Oh yeah. Wasn't he supposed to resurrect a Demon God or something? The lines got so crossed sometimes.

"You with us, darling?"

A fierce tapping of his shoulder brought him back to reality. He turned; those auburn bangs that passed as a face were staring at him, a sympathetic look on those full-bodied red lips, that just looked... so alive... it was a battle not to assault them in open public like this.

"I'm fine. I'm... fine." Yashiro grunted. But the way he sank his head into his fingers, clutching both sides of his temple like a grabbing claw, told Shermie of much deeper, more seeded emotions...

Before she had a chance to pry, he continued. "Where's Yamazaki?"

"Saw him head for a food stand."

"Mature? Vice?"

"They're off partying. Probably in Io-"

"Don't say his name!" Yashiro sharply cut her off, probably more forceful than he mean to. He could tell he did, from the way Shermie recoiled backwards instantly, her lips parted in a surprised gasp.

"Alright, alright! Sorry! Tu tyran~"

He quickly regretted it, turning away and looking downwards, away from her probably judging eyes. But as he sank downwards in his shame and stress... a pair of comforting arms from her, followed by a soft bosom, proved him wrong.

"Hey..." she cooed his name with almost a whisper. "What's wrong?"

His valiant efforts to maintain his macho facade held up only seconds longer... until he melted into her, his face finding neck, followed by a loud, draining exhale. "Sighhhhhh... I'm trying, Shermie. I'm just... I'm trying to bring us all together. Unite us. But those three just, I... it's not... it's just not..."

"Shhhhhhh shh shhhhh..." Shermie soothed, gently stroking his hair, as his face crept down her neck, closer to her chest. She tightened her grip around the back of his head, accepting his advance.

"You and Chris are the only ones that matter to me." Yashiro whispered softly. "I want this world to be ours. Just ours... so nobody else can ever upstage us again."

"It will be." Shermie assured. "We've all but taken the tournament at this point. Our Savior's slumber goes more and more agitated, and he's going to recognize us three for making it happen. Just go out there and be the best you can be, Yash... because you're the best. You... are.. the... best~!"

She signified that final word with a peck on his nose and a cutesy giggle. Yashiro couldn't help but smile and chuckle in response.

...But his face quickly grew serious again. Like the flip of a page, he'd broken away from her, turned his back... he was looking out in the distance, eyes focusing on a singular, focal point... an individual. God, he was despicable... that clownish red hair, that ridiculously overcompensating outfit: black leather pants, covered head to toe in a bunch of unnecessary belts... does he have some sort of fetish? A fancy-shmancy button-up red top, with a black tie... and that trenchcoat. Ugh! More pointless black leather, with his dumb crescent moon logo emblazoned in white on the back. He looked like a sickeningly edgy star in an action movie. He must think he's SOOOOOOO cool... so perfect... so much better than everyone. Who would wear an outfit like that, except someone of the highest plane of narcissism-

"Yash? You zoned out again."

Reality snapped back. With a shake of his head and an angry growl, as if violently expelling the man's image from his head, Yashiro turned back to face her. "I want to beat him so bad, Shermie. My knuckles... they're literally aching. I've strained myself so much... the desire to erase him is eating away at me. It's got to end, Shermie. I can't... I can't take it anymore."

"Then do it." Shermie encouraged, returning a consoling arm to him. "You're more than ready. Our Lord's lingering presence has provided us with enough energy that we're almost as powerful as our mortal forms! You can beat him, Yashiro... I believe in you."

Yashiro nodded... his eyes couldn't help but cut back to him. His prey. His eternal foe. The sight of him made his fingers tighten again... he could feel strength coursing through him. The time drew near... Orochi's Will be-

...He was going to kill that guy.


OPENING ROUND FIGHT #21: MR. BIG VS BENIMARU NIKAIDO

Mr. Big's pomposity was off the charts. He strutted confidently towards the combat zone, banging his sticks together rhythmically, some made-up tune exemplifying his utter sense of entitlement and destiny as he walked towards what he was sure to be fate and fortune.

No Geese Howard. A slew of potential recruits. The chance to earn 2.5 million dollars. Everything was coming up Big.

Suddenly, a reminder hit him, as the bald man pocketed his left stick and instead reached in his pocket to pull out a cell phone. He dialed:

"..."

"..."

"...Ryuji! Hey! Where are you?"

"Gettin' a hotdog. Why?"

"Get back here and bet on me, you jackass! And don't skimp either! Be a man and go all out!"

"Tch, if you say so. But you better win, or you may find yourself more skinned than you already are."

"Of course I'm going to win! Bye."

CLICK.

By the time the brief call was over, Big had arrived at his destination... brandishing his sticks and giving a smile that could be labeled "cream of the creep", he drank in the boos and jeers and negativity being thrown at him from the sidelines, the audience... probably the entire viewing world.

"Guess it's a good thing Robert hasn't fought yet." Ryo declared. "I get to see Big get his butt thrashed in person. Second year in a row."

"You think Beni's got what it takes?" Terry asked.

"Dunno... Benimaru hasn't been acting right lately."

"He's just a little bummed out is all." Shingo shed some light. "I mean... his guys aren't here this year, ya know? Kyo and Daimon. No K' either. No Elisabeth, or Duo Lon. It must be lonely for a guy to have none of his teammates around. I mean, obviously this is a singles' tournament, but there's nothing like having your mates around to give you a huge morale boost, a feeling of unity, of support, like you're not alone in the world. For some people like Iori, they feed on solitude. But Beni... he's a social guy. He's an exhibitionist. He loves to be seen, noticed, appreciated. But right now he's all alone... must be taxing on the guy."

"...PUT ON SOME CLOTHES!" Terry and Ryo bluntly shouted in unison.

"Nah, I'm good."

Speaking of which, the other man of the hour was making his own walkout. Many speculations that were tossed around proved to be true: Benimaru Nikaido was a reserved, taciturn shell of his usual outgoing self, walking to the combat zone with no excitement, his hands in the pockets of those skinny white pants that composed one half of his standard outfit, with the other being that skintight half of a black top. How did he even fit his hands in those pants..?

Much of what Shingo said rang true, near-nakedness be damned. Benimaru Nikaido WAS lonely. It was disheartening... especially to see all the other teams whole and united. Kyokugens, Psycho Team, Women's Team.. all together, a family, siphoning energy from each other in a zealous cycle of warmth and love.

No... he couldn't thrive off the support of others. He had to choose a DIFFERENT motivation for himself, for a part of him did exist... a colder part, that wished to disassociate himself from them all, his mates, former champions. Kyo and K, Elisabeth... the ones who led him to victory every year, gracing his shelf with enough gold to be blinding to the eyes. But those weren't HIS victories. He was but a product, a piece of the working machine... he wanted to be a complete, singular unit.

This tournament granted him that. Singles format meant nobody else could hold his hand. There was nobody to tag in, nobody to come in and pull a clutch victory. Nobody else to jump in as a Striker, upon his beck and call. He had NOBODY... and that meant he could finally win.

The two finally stood off in the ring, Benimaru with a stone scowl, Big showing off how well he brushed his teeth with their disarming white.

Words were exchanged.

"Benimaru Nikaido..." Big insulted. "The sidekick. The eternal jobber."

Benimaru gave it right back. "That's rich, coming from you."

Big laughed aloud, brandishing his sticks. "I'm a man on a mission! I have destiny on my side! Something you couldn't possible understand, given your... paltry status."

To a narcissist like Beni, that was like a gunshot. "PALTRY?"

Big pointed at him. "You're not destined for greatness. You don't have the gene in you to be a leader! Not like me! I, Mr. Big, used to command the forces of the underworld... Southtown was MY domain! The sleeping king is prepared to rise again and take it all back... what do YOU know of such things? You only know how to follow! In fact... you should fulfill your purpose, and join me in my ambition. Join the side with the power. Just like you ALWAYS do, Nikaido. Let Big carry you!"

Many of the lesser heart and tongue would have been thrown off by a wordsmith of Big's magnitude. It really was his best feature, as King would tell. But Benimaru Nikaido was not one of them... the blonde was more than able to stand his ground in the sass department. And thus... he negated Big's bullshit right then and there.

"Hehehehehe..." he chuckled, hands in his pockets as he leaned in. "You're a joke, Big. That's all you'll ever be: a two-bit, third-string joke. You may have forgotten that for a bit, because that basketball head of yours has a little too much air pumped in it... but I'll remind you. I'm about to remind you in the worst way."

FIGHT!

Big came out, sticks blazing, swinging them in an erratic rhythm to try and club Benimaru's head off. Though it looked like an easy target, the pillar-haired blonde swayed head to dodge every incoming swing, until Big finally decided to mix it up and go low.

"Dodge these! Hyyyah!" Big swung a deep clipping left, spun around with a wild right, aimed at Benimaru's ankles. The blonde leaped back, nimble enough to dodge the two wild swings... but Big's momentum did not stop. He combat rolled forward and kept swinging low, pushing off with his knees to generate power as he tried to take out Beni's legs.

The low offense failed, and Big finally went mid; he thrust both sticks forward, towards Benimaru's stomach, a similar move in which he broke King's ribs last year...

Benimaru refused to be another victim. Just as Big's hands came forward, he caught his wrists, and the two were left in a tense stalemate. Strained grunts from both sides, especially Big, who was still on his knees... but he was able to push off on them, and propel himself back to his feet, also succeeding in pushing Benimaru backwards!

Benimaru knew he was about to lose this struggle. Big was too strong... but he was also wide open to the body. Time to take a page out of King's book...

"Rrrah!" Benimaru kiai'd with all his might as he thrust a knee into Big's stomach. He saw the bald man's facial expression change immediately... or his mouth curl into a wince, at least.

Benimaru smiled. Bingo. A second knee followed, sinking into Big's midsection. His sticks dropped from his hands, as he stumbled backwards in retreat... but everyone could tell he was visibly hurt.

KRACK! A third knee, only this one went high... and airborne, right upside Big's chin, and the bald man was already floored in this fight that had gone for a minute at the most.

Benimaru stood tall, his hands poised on his hips, as he flashed some of his trademark sass. "Reality coming back to you now, bald boy?"

Anger flooded the downed man's veins... this... this PEON had the right to drop him? He, Mr. Big, the Returning King of Southtown?!

"Urrrgh! I'd rather be bald than look like Goldilocks was sticking her porridge spoon in the electrical outlets!" Big unleashed his best comeback as he sprang back up, using the toes of his shoes to kick his stick back into his hands, and cross them like an X. "BRING IT!"

Beni pushed the offensive this time, pumping out a body kick... it was FAST. The guy truly was lightning in all aspects. Big grunted as he took it right underneath the armpit: getting kicked by those long, slender legs felt like getting smacked by a Kendo stick.

Beni fired a low kick, clipping Big's leg; tried as he did to tank it, Big's leg went flying out, and he was forced to combat roll backwards to regain his footing.

Benimaru pressed forward, relentless. He fired a kick... this time, Big would deny him!

"Auugh!" Benimaru groaned as he felt his leg connect with solid wood: Big had parried his kick with his weapon. The other stick was still free to bash him in the face, and Big did so with much delight...

KONK! KONK! The thudding of wood was a disturbing sound as Big whacked his face, his forehead... he went to the body with the third, in his stomach, and finally the fourth, knocking his legs out with a tremendous sweep.

Big didn't stop there... he wanted to punish his downed opponent. Getting a leaping start, he went up high, and came down, sticks aimed low... his full weight slammed into Benimaru's body, flattening the blonde out.

"HnnnGGGGGGHHHHHhhhhhh...!" a wincing grunt leaked from Benimaru's damaged lungs. Anyone in the audience must have thought he, looking the equivalent of a fuzzy pencil, must have been finished by such a crushing attack.

Big seemed to think victory was his, as he got up and brandished his sticks proudly. "Heeh heh heh heh! The king is back!"

Beni was far from done, able to slowly crawl back up, and have wit to boot. "The king is DEAD."

Benimaru charged at him... but the blonde had hesitation in his step. He was clearly still winded, from that huge attack. Big sensed it, knowing he had the advantage: he shot forward like a torpedo, his notorious Cross Dive attack, ramming through Benimaru and flooring the blonde as quickly as he'd stood up.

With a smooth roll, Big sprang back up, and he was feeling the momentum. Just as Beni was getting up, Big's stick found his knee, buckling the blonde's proud legs.

"Ngh!" Beni cursed; he tried to fire back with a straight left... Big just chuckled as he swung his stick into the wrist, knocking his hand off-track and stumbling the blonde... Benimaru took a shot to his chin for his troubles before managing to scamper away to a safe distance.

"Beni's got some ground to make up..." Chizuru noted.

"This is Big we're talking about." Saisyu defended. "Huge pride, huge fall."

"GROUND BLASTER!" Big declared his projectile attack as he slammed his sticks into the ground, sending a stream of blue energy sailing towards Benimaru. The blonde had the perfect counter: he went airborne, high out of reach of the chi attack... his body began to spiral until he looked like a live drill, his foot protruded, coming down on Big from above...

Big sensed the aerial attack coming, and crossed his sticks in a defensive pose. Beni's foot connected on the wood, thankfully sole-first, so nothing was injured. The stalemate left Big stumbling backwards, and Beni landing a few yards back.

"TRY DODGING THIS ONE, TROLL DOLL!" Big spat.

"I'll show you a new way to use those sticks when I lay your ass out!" Beni countered.

Big let loose a roar, got a running start... he leaped forward, with a spin so wild, he went 360... the momentum built up a tremendous power, as he swung his stick at Beni's head with the intention of cracking it open...

Benimaru wasn't having it. He unleashed his bare fist forward, coursing with blue electrical energy!

BZZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTT! A tense impact between the two fighters, Big's stick connecting with an electrically-charged fist. Benimaru's sudden outburst of chi threw Big off, knocking him backwards in a jarred state... Beni smirked as he came forward and laid on the hurt.

A fist to the face. A knee to the body. Big hunched over, and Beni dug into his body a second time with a punch. As his mug stood out, Beni threw an elbow to crack his jaw. Four unanswered hits.

Big stumbled backwars, legs wobbled, just barely hanging onto his sticks... Beni came forward and unleashed the cherry on top: a 180 flying kick, the sole of his shoe slamming into Big's face and breaking his glasses.

"Uuaaaaaghhh!" Big wailed as he fell backwards, subjected just like last year to the pain of breaking glass.

The crowd was on its feet, cheering on the blonde as he approached fearlessly, a smirk, as he cracked his knuckles and sizzled with an elecric field around him.

"Get up! GET UP, you pompous prick!" Benimaru commanded. "I wanna knock you down again! Two more times! Then maybe I'll be satisfied!"

Big obliged; with a string of angry curses, the bald man slowly recovered... he pulled a sneaky move, and connected his sticks just as he was standing up. "KYAHH!"

Benimaru just barely saw the long rod coming. With a sway of his head, the weapon just missed his nose, and put him on retreat. Big was coming back forward, swinging madly... the man was pissed!

"Grrag! Aggh! Yaaah! Haaagh!" Furious, guttural grunts as Big tried to connect on Benimaru with a clean strike. But the blonde's movement was too fluid... he was dancing, weaving out of the way of each one.

Yamazaki shook his head... he could easily tell Big had lost his cool. The confident, assured aura that had protected him up to this point was fading before their eyes...

"SPINNING LANC-ughhh!"

Big tried to get into a spin move, but Beni parried the stick before he could really get going. A short calf kick buckled Big, a kick to his knee nearly hobbled him. His footing destroyed, Benimaru drilled a knee into his body, getting him hunching... as soon as Big's head dipped low, a lightning-fast knee came up and blasted his forehead.

"Uggghh... gaaaahhhhgh!" Big's gargled yells of distress carried as he stumbled backwards in a helpless state... Benimaru walked him down, smirking all the way.

That's when Big got desperate, and unleashed his greatest attack...

"BLASTER WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVE!"

The audience's hearts stopped when they saw it: a HUGE, pulsing beam of electrical energy jutting from Big's sticks, as he lunged forward and jammed them directly into Benimaru' s stomach. The blonde froze up instantly, his body locked in place, as it violently shuddered from the wattage coursing through him...

Big grinned wide... but his lips enjoyed their upwards position for only a few seconds. Benimaru was smiling right back.

"What the...?!"

The blonde's slender body lit up like a roman candle, streaks of lightning swimming across his legs, trailing up his torso, blue streaks lashing out from his skin in all directions, threatening any who dared approach. His eyeballs no longer bore their normal white: they were a bright, scintillating sapphire blue, as radiant energy expelled from them, even from his very mouth itself.

Big's greatest attack was his subsequent greatest folly... because Benimaru could take this one. He failed to absorb the impossible wattage of Dio last year... but this was nothing. Big was small fry. Child's play. His pitiful electric attack only fed Benimaru's power, and granted him superhuman destructive capabilities.

Big felt his shirt snatched with two hands... Benimaru lifted him like he was nothing.

"Gaah! Put... me... D-DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

He went flying through the air, as Benimaru freefalls backwards... a textbook Suplex, but with a shocking conclusion.

KAKRACKCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!

The sky lit up with a massive thunderbolt, striking down right at the impact point where Big's body had been slammed. The explosion was gargantuan, reducing the ground around it to a crater, which could only be seen after the minute-long dust storm subsided...

...Sure enough, when the haze cleared, Big was groaning weakly inside ground zero of that nuclear thunder strike.

WINNER: BENIMARU NIKAIDO


"Next time you talk big shit, have the joules to go all the way." Benimaru uttered those punishing words as a last slap to the face, as the blonde pocketed his hands and walked away with no lasting damage. Was the outcome surprising to him? Of course not. Big was all-talk. This... this was the BENI show. They all just didn't know it yet. He wasn't just "along for the ride". He wasn't here to be carried. With his own fists, his own strength, his own heart... he would prove that every one of those gold trophies was justified.

Big, meanwhile, was currently... re-evaluating himself. For a man who had flown so high in the clouds, a violent and unpleasant crash was inevitable. What did this mean for him? His ambition? Would Geese Howard have lost his first fight? Of course not... Geese would go all the way, like always. It was so much harder now than it used to be... those ants used to never defy him like this! He could swat them all. Now he was here... washed up... a laughing stock.

"Ungh... urrgh..." during his new hit single of moans and groans, Yamazaki had made his way back out there, hotdog in one hand, the other pocketed. He stepped just close enough that his shadow loomed over the fallen kingpin.. and Big looked up at his blinding frame.

"Urrrrgh... ungggghhh... Ryuji... I... lost..."

Yamazaki gave a pitying grin. "What, noooo! You totally smoked him, Big. You're just taking a victory siesta in this giant, smoldering crater."

"Just shut up and help me up."

Little as he cared, Yamazaki showed a moment of humanity, storing his hotdog in his mouth long enough to extend his free hand and snatch the man upright. Big looked at him for only a moment, before his eyes shamefully looked away, followed by an awkward rubbing of his head.

"So uhh... how much did I set you back?"

Expression epitome of nonchalant, Yamazaki removed the hotdog. "Actually, I bet against you."


OPENING ROUND FIGHT #22: ANDY BOGARD VS ROBERT GARCIA

He knew they were talking about him. Measuring him. Judging him. They said he didn't have it anymore... his brother was the real fighting hero, while he brought up the rear. Just like always. Maybe he should've stayed home... he could've prepared Hokutomaru better, and maybe sent him here in retu-

...No. He could still do this. Mai gave her heart out there a while ago. For him to falter now...

Robert whipped out those kicks so fast, like the thrust of a rapier, without even bringing his foot back down. Before Andy could blink, three had come at him... his pure instincts compelled him to dodge each one, and finally Robert planted that foot... and used it to spin around with a massive 180 kick from the other. Andy winced as his arms absorbed that blow, knocking him several steps backwards.

He could sense Robert's tenacity... the guy was fighting angry. Obviously still shaken up about what happened to his girlfriend. To channel those emotions into his fighting spirit could go either way, but to a disciplined striker like Robert, it could only spell trouble for Andy... the kick-heavy Karate master was too far from sloppy.

Andy took his turn at bat, coming forward with a heavy left palm, a right behind it. Robert parried the shots well, and Andy twirled around for the third blow, a spinning backhand. Robert caught his arm... trapped, just like that. Andy assumed himself safe in this close clinch position, but Robert had other plans, electing to use control of that arm to distance the rest of Andy's body instead, as far as the ninja's own arm could stretch him. As soon as he had some leeway, the close-range kicks started coming: one to the stomach, another to the chest... Andy was already rattled, and he snatched himself free of Robert's grasp to stumble backwards... but Robert's long legs offered him one last parting gift, right into his cheek.

"Andy looks lost so far..." Terry offered some harsh criticism to his blood.

"Mai mentioned he's been acting weird lately. Like his head's not in the game." Mary added her two bits.

Terry shifted downwards. "You don't think... I have anything to do with that, do you?"

Mary shrugged. "Not intentionally."

Andy kept his arm outstretched, palm aimed like a gun, launching steady Hishoukens. One... two... three... four came out.

Robert met chi with chi, intercepting each fireball as it came at him with his legs swinging, launching his own Koukens like soccer balls. The battle zone flashed with an assortment of colors, blue clashing with orange as sparks lit up the air.

Robert swung his leg to snuff out one more fireball, spun around... he went airborne and smoothly transitioned into another special. "HIEN SHINPU KYAKU!"

Andy wasn't surprised by the chi-fueled flying kick. A quick dodge roll and Robert went completely over him, putting the two on opposite ends of the spectrum once again. Perfect time to catch a breath.

"KUHADAN!" Andy flew at him with his signature leaping attack, leading with both feet forward, like a kangaroo kick of death. The only problem... it was rather telegraphed, so Robert easily mounted a defense to absorb the blow, and force Andy to stick the landing.

As Andy landed, Robert noticed he had his back turned... not really thinking it through, Robert threw himself against Andy and suddenly had a body lock! Fortunes smiled upon him, although... he didn't really know what to do with it. If he was Mary, he would have known to drag Andy down, sink in hooks and score the rear choke. But this position honestly proved to be more detrimental than anything... especially as Andy reversed it.

Robert began to second-guess a close battle, when Andy pried his arms free, spun around FAST... the tip of his elbow curved into Robert's sternum, and he sucked in acidic air. Andy went higher with the second strike... he could uncork his forearm like a catapult! Robert could barely believe a bare forearm was cutting such an angle, much less smashing his chin the way it did. As Garcia retreated in a stupor, a classic knifehand chop drilled into his cheek and sent the man tumbling to the ground.

"HELL YEAH! THAT'S THE ANDY I KNOW!" Terry was on his feet in an instant, pumping his fist in fiery support.

Andy felt his body tingle. Yes... he could still do this. It came so naturally to him. So what if he was inferior to a select few? There were still plenty of opponents out there he could best. He wasn't blessed by the god of battle like his brother, but in some way... maybe it was better life offered him such balance. No swelled head, but no wallowing in self-pity... he could beat a Robert Garcia. At this moment, that's what mattered... especially if Mai was watching.

Robert, meanwhile, had his own motivations for winning... less about self-worth, more about making it to Round 2 and possibly getting a crack at the bitch who hurt Yuri. He was back up, slowly shuffling forward... the action slowed to a more methodical pace as they felt each other out, neither committing to the first move quite yet.

Until finally Andy did. Zeal on his side, he was surely the first to move in; Robert made him pay, beating his punch with a body kick. As Andy froze, Robert demonstrated amazing flexibility by kicking high... his leg went at a 90 degree angle and sent Andy's face in the same direction, dropping the ninja in the dirt in response.

Andy couldn't be too irked by it: after all, they were 1-1 now. He got back up and circled, this time determined to let Robert move first... Garcia did, but his superior range gave his attack success. He dipped his leg mid, appearing to go to the stomach, but sneakily whipped his foot high at the last second and clipped Andy's chin, snapping the blonde's head back, but not dropping him. It was JARRING... but just annoying enough not to be a knockout hit.

Andy's response?

"ZAINEKEN!"

"Shit...!" Robert cursed as Andy shot forward with amazing speed, ramming his body elbow-first like a bullet, sending his butt scooting through the dirt. He growled angrily as he stood back up fast, but Andy was already on him again: a body blow hunched him, a left knifehand sent his cheek inwards. Andy capitalized his combo with an extension of his palm: a blue light shone, and a point-blank Hishouken blasted Robert off his feet a third time!

"YOU'RE DONE FOR, GARCIA!" Andy, in the euphoria of advantage, fired. "I've got someone waiting for me!"

Robert was slow to rise... he was clutching his chest area, trying to mask a wince... but he stared defiantly and spat back. "SO DO I!"

Chizuru couldn't help but roll her eyes at the melodrama. "Hopeless romantics, the both of them. Defined by their women."

Saisyu couldn't pass up the opportunity... a cheeky grin shone. "You just wish you had such romanticism to speak of."

Not even looking over, she jabbed his arm. "I don't need a chivalrous knight, thank you."

"So much for my next offer then..."

Andy felt the tides completely shift. This was no longer an even battle... this was all ANDY. All those naysayers could suck it! Mai... even she was wrong. He was still in top form! He could still hang with the best! He could... he could... HE COULD EVEN DEFEAT "HIM"!

"I'M COMING, MAI!" he bellowed as he sprang forward, unleashing his greatest attack. "CHO REPPA DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"

Robert tensed up as he saw the ferocious blazing feet come flying at him, Andy's body engulfed in his unrelenting spirit... it looks like the man found some new vigor laying around. This was the end, unless he...!

...No. This wasn't fair. It wasn't right. Andy had no more right to be Romeo than he did! He wasn't going to go riding back to Mai on a white horse, scooping her up in his arms and galloping into the sunset! That was HIS ENDING!

Thus, Robert followed in the same steps of leaving nothing behind. All of his chi left his body at once, in the form of a last ditch fireball.

"HAOH SHO KOU K-"

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Andy's feet connected, just as the fireball was to be launched. The opposing chis caused a predictable backdraft: a huge explosion in the battle zone, fumigating the Stadium with the warmth of resonating chi waves.

Needless to say, legs were up. Terry and Ryo in particular were exercising restraint not to run out to the zone, as one could tell by how their torsos leaned forward, but not their legs.

"Which one..." Terry started.

"Is still standing?" Ryo finished.

The smoke cleared...and the two former protagonists fell over in comical fashion.

In the combat zone, Robert and Andy were laid out, symmetrical, nothing left on their persons but their boxers.

DOUBLE KO!


"...Well whaddaya know." Mary utterly oozed deadpan. "Alright, I'm outta here. Anton's getting restless. You better go scoop up "Andykins".

"Dang... sorry that happened, Ryo." Shingo was more sympathetic. "If it makes you feel better, I totally had Robert winning that fight!"

Everyone sat back down, leaving Terry and Ryo, laying there, twitching in utter disbelief at how their partners could've somehow taken each other out.

MEANWHILE, AT THE HOSPITAL...

As far as two certain ladies went, Yuri didn't get to see it happen, as she was put under and being prepped for stitches. Whether this was a boon or curse was left up to debate, since her man didn't exactly lose... or win.

Mai, on the other hand, got to see the whole thing. Thus, sparking a big question: what was going through the kunoichi's mind, as she saw her beloved Andy in the heat of battle? What emotions filled her, as he fell in fierce man-to-man combat? As he failed to keep their understood promise of meeting in Round 2? As he showed true valor and clearly fought his heart out, screaming her name as he unleashed his true power?

"Kingy... you might need to clear out of here soon." she spoke, eyes still glued to the television.

"Hm? Why?"

"...I'm wetter than plastic wrap over hot food."

"...Gross. Okay. Goodbye."

Okay... this was not my best chapter. I'm feeling the fatigue of trying to make it to the end of Round 1. Some fights and characters might have suffered as a result, but I've been waiting for the climax and post-round stuff for too long.

ONLY TWO FIGHTS LEFT! We are here, ladies and gentlemen! It's a big double whammy Round 1 finale!

But first...


BONUS SCENE

"They took each other out..." the enigmatic Shion declared the obvious, the man watching the tournament action from the convenience of a local tv positioned in the city. His cloak obscured his identity, as well as those of the two standing at his side. His patented spear was nowhere to be found, deemed far too noticeable.

"In a singles format tournament, in the result of a draw, they can't go on unless there's a replacement." the blonde one spoke.

Shion's lips curved wide. "Excellent... then our fortunes just looked up."

"Another jobber?" the blonde stranger snarked. "Joker and Gozu worked out SO well."

"...If Shion can do his job properly, we don't even need this contingency." a mysterious voice alerted them from behind. Two of them turned: the black-haired girl didn't seem to care.

Shion snarled when he saw her... a former associate. Former ally of similar ideals. Former thorn in his side.

"Then perhaps YOU want to step in there and take him on, Botan! Get your cowardly hands dirty for once!"

Her identity revealed, the dark haired girl merely exuded a small chuckle. "That's not my area. My job is to fix your inevitable blunder. That's why I brought in the next guy. Your failed little hit ad attracted some useless minnows to come do the deed."

Shion was this close to bringing out the spear. "You think you can do better?"

Botan folded her arms. "I KNOW I can. It's what I do. I brought this guy in from the dankest, seediest, most virulent pits of Southtown. When you fail here, just like you failed Magaki... he'll get the job done. Hmmhmmhmmhmm... his affinity for killing is overwhelming. He radiates death, down to his very core. He knows nothing else."

With a dismissive swat, Shion bumped past her and walked onwards. "You can keep your puppets. I'm going to bring back the Lord... ME. And I'll make sure He grants me everlasting life, and condemns you to a hole where you belong."

The two other strangers followed behind Shion, leaving Botan standing there, glazed eyes, arms folded. Her lip started to slowly curl... but she rolled her eyes and hissed it off. He wasn't worth it. None of them were. They were all just tools... assets, to be used for her favor.

As she stood there in sinister solace... a shadowy figure approached from behind, his movements inhuman... he skulked like a shambling corpse, his limbs twitching, his head dipped down, a curtain of red hair obscuring his face. All that could be seen was a maniacal smile.

Botan smiled in turn, pleased with herself.

Until next time!