Kitsune no Ken GAIDEN Chronicles

by Neon Majestic

During the periods of time skipped over by official records, people did not sit in a vacuum. They lived their lives, being who they were, doing what they were able to do. These chronicles tell tales of people who lived at the same time as the Kyuushingai. SUPPLEMENT to "Kitsune no Ken: Fist of the Fox." GAIDEN 64, "Mist City Chronicles, Part 8," now up!

63. Mist City Chronicles, Part 7

Kitsune no Ken GAIDEN Chronicles

Written by Neon Majestic

(DISCLAIMER: The Naruto franchise and the characters therein belong to and were originally created by Masashi Kishimoto.)

OoOoO

GAIDEN 63 – Mist City Chronicles, Part 7

(N.B. This Gaiden takes place immediately after the events of Gaiden 62.)

It was 9:40 a.m. when the yacht finally pulled in at the island's dock, and all the passengers were already gathered on the deck with their traveling bags in hand. The gangplank was soon lowered, and the group disembarked, led by Junichi, Ryota and Hanare, then followed by Mikoshi, Ajisai and Omoi, and the rest following after them. At the end of the dock were several uniformed servants, bowing in greeting to the newcomers, and at their head was a smiling Kurosawa Mifune.

"Welcome, welcome, one and all, to our designated venue for this year's Zenkusen tournament!" Mifune greeted the arrivals, arms outstretched in greeting. "Please, everyone, come and refresh yourselves after your trip. By my watch…" He checked the timepiece on his wrist. "…it is now 9:45. Let's get you settled in, and then at 11:00 you'll be brought into our designated dining hall for lunch and the official welcome which I will give. The servants here will direct you to your varying quarters," and he nodded to the servants, who in turn bowed more deeply.

Hanare stepped forward and bowed slightly in turn. "Thank you for hosting us, Kurosawa-sama. On behalf of everyone here who will be participating in this competition, we are truly grateful for this opportunity to be involved in this noble contest, and we are grateful that you are our moderator."

"You are most welcome," said Mifune. "Now, shall we see you to your quarters…?"

OoOoO

"Woooo!" Ajisai exhaled loudly as she fell back on the attractive-looking bed in her designated room. "Can I marry this bed? I want to marry this bed. Is it legal to marry a bed?"

The maidservant who'd shown her to the room smiled knowingly. "You're not the first one to be impressed by the quality of the rooms we have here, milady," she said. "I assume you are joining us for the first time. We received similar reactions from our various guests during the first two Zenkusen tournaments."

"Yeah, it's my first time," Ajisai confirmed. "My two classmates and I got invitations from the Paragons."

"If the Paragons themselves scouted you, then they saw significant potential in you," said the maid. "Let us hope you will be able to live up to those expectations, whether you win this year's tournament or not." She bowed. "Please excuse me, now; we should be about getting the 11:00 lunch ready for all of you." And with that she left, pulling up the door behind her and leaving Ajisai alone.

OoOoO

Omoi was in his room's adjoining bathroom, rinsing his face. "Whew…" He reached for the nearby small towel and dried his brow. "So now we're here…soon will be lunch…then after that…"

Looking straight at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he held up his right hand and clenched it into a tight fist. "Kimura…Roshi…the Paragons…and all the rest of you…bring it on."

OoOoO

Mikoshi stood at the window of his room, looking out over the nearby ocean. His face was without expression…but his mind was hard at work.

I'm here, finally…and Junichi said HE would be here too…but he wasn't on the boat with the rest of us. So…does that mean he's here already?

He breathed in deeply, then slowly let the breath out. We'll soon see, I guess…

OoOoO

The time passed quickly…then 11:00 saw the tournament's participants being directed by the servants to an open-air dining hall with four tables strategically placed around a large boxing ring on a raised platform. Aside from the servants escorting the group, there were several other servants standing beside a large food-station off to one side; no doubt, these were on standby to begin serving lunch. In the very center of the hall was another servant, looking authoritative and important. "To our honored guests, please sit at any of the tables you choose, and feel free to sit with any of your fellow participants as you like," the servant in question said in a booming voice.

Ajisai looked around at the four tables. Each table had four seating places; she guessed that this meant the sixteen of them would be split into groups of four to share their dining experience. Immediately she looked around for any sign of Mikoshi and Omoi—and she saw the former sitting down at one table with Junichi, while Morio was taking the third chair there on Mikoshi's left. She quickly crossed over to them and snagged the last remaining chair. "Hey, guys," she greeted them.

"Ha-ha! How about that, boy, your girlfriend's come to join us!" Morio grinned and lightly elbowed Mikoshi.

"Huh?" Ajisai reared back in shock.

"You're still going on about that?" Mikoshi glared at Morio.

"You'll have to excuse him," Junichi spoke up, chuckling. "I scouted him for this year's tournament. He's a strong fighter, but also something of a hopeless romantic."

"Oi, oi, Junichi-san, there's no 'hopeless' when it comes to love!" Morio exclaimed.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ajisai spied Omoi, who was just sitting down at a nearby table with Ryota, Pakura and Chukichi, and all four of them were glancing over at her table with odd expressions. "Other people are staring, you guys," she said in a half-rebuking, half-pleading tone.

"Morio, let's dial it back a bit, okay?" Junichi advised the other man.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya." But Morio still had the big grin on his face.

OoOoO

"What a loudmouth they've got there…I do not envy them," Omoi said flatly as he settled into his chair.

Pakura shook her head. "Agreed. That one is an idiot."

"Do not be so judgmental, you two," Chukichi calmly admonished them. "After all, it takes all kinds to make a world, no?"

"Well, I say the less we have of people who talk pointless talk, the better," Ryota grunted. "I still don't get what Junichi was thinking when he scouted that Morio moron."

"Him being here had better be worth it," said Omoi. "At least the company here seems better to me," and he gestured to the table for emphasis.

"Again, agreed," said Pakura. "You all are talkative, but not as much, and your chatter has a point to it."

Omoi cocked his eyebrow at her. "You're being pretty talkative, now, too. Maybe our personalities mesh?"

"…maybe." Pakura shrugged.

"And you, big guy…" Omoi turned his attention to Chukichi. "You said on the boat that you're a part of some kind of warrior-monk order, right? Which of the Paragons scouted you?"

"I did, actually," said Ryota. "In the underground fighting circuit, lots of rumors and stories tend to pass around. Some are crap, of course, but others have merit. This one," jabbing his thumb at Chukichi, "had merit—although finding the place was a bitch and a half."

"We have been around for 100 years, as I said before," Chukichi explained. "But even an order of warrior-monks still needs to take care of basic expenses like food, bedding and such. So when Ryota-san indicated that there would be a sizable cash-prize for this tournament's winner, I offered to go and represent our group as a participant."

"Okay then, I guess," Omoi answered. "And you? What brings a bodyguard-for-hire to the Zenkusen?" directing the question to Pakura.

"Simply a test of my skill," Pakura replied. "After all, hiring a bodyguard who can't fight sufficiently well is worse than hiring no bodyguard at all."

"…that actually makes complete sense," and now Omoi nodded with respect.

A sudden nearby movement caught Ryota's eye. "Oh, look alive—we have a server coming."

OoOoO

"Your menus, lady and gentlemen," and the server handed out four menu-cards to the group. "Please indicate when you are ready to order, and your meals will be served to you."

"Thank you kindly," Hanare smiled and nodded, and with that the server left.

Seated at the table with Hanare were Sabiru, Funari and Zosui, and they all quickly scanned their menus. "Well, now, the steak sounds appealing," Funari grinned.

"Of course it would sound appealing to a sumo wrestler like you, tubby," Sabiru needled him. "Me, I'm more of a chicken man—and the grilled chicken is right up my alley."

"That's the entrée—think about the appetizer first," said Zosui. "The pumpkin soup seems like a good choice to start."

"I agree with you there," said Hanare. "Let's see, what shall I order today…"

"While she's picking what she wants, I think I'd like my curiosity settled," and Funari turned to Sabiru. "What exactly is the deal with you and that other ninja guy? You two were looking at each other fit to cut each other's throats back on the boat."

"Oh, you mean that idiot Kyoya?" Sabiru said dismissively. "He's just butt-hurt because I beat him in the last Zenkusen. Those scars on his face were just the icing on that cake."

"It's more than that, actually." Hanare glanced up from her menu. "The Ishi no Hi have been bitter rivals with the Kazaha clan for generations, but the feud's been going on so long that nobody can remember what started it in the first place."

"I have heard stories that suggest a variety of reasons for it," said Zosui. "Some proposed reasons are fairly dramatic, for example, that the two clans' leaders were part of a love triangle that ended bloodily. Other suggested reasons are just downright petty, for instance, that one clan leader was a vegetarian and the other loved meat, and they couldn't get along because of it. What the reason is, and who took which stance, depends largely on who you ask."

"Oh, really? So what does your clan say, Sabiru?" asked Funari.

"The current clan leader isn't too sure of the exact details, either," Sabiru admitted. "All that our oldest records say is that there was a dispute between the two clans' founders, but there's no information on what started it. It seems somebody went to a little trouble to cut the details out of the records. But even still, there's enough modern-day dislike between our two sides that the original reason doesn't matter."

"Hmm. Well, okay, then." Funari turned to Zosui. "Your turn now, Zosui. You said you were in the first Zenkusen…what was it like?"

"Disorganized—but seeing as it was the first staging, it's understandable," said Zosui. "The tournament was held as a way to give participants an avenue to channel their grouses and disputes. For me, it was an opportunity to, ahem, discipline some unruly punks who thought it was a good idea to ransack my karate dojo during the height of the 365 days. And discipline them I did."

"Then you skipped the second staging to focus on rebuilding and strengthening your dojo, as well as to focus on your own training," said Hanare.

"That is correct." Zosui nodded. "I kept abreast of what happened in the second tournament, though, and you and your fellow Paragons seem to have smoothed out the rough edges and given it better structure since the time I was there. And now, here we all are."

"Which leaves you, big guy," Sabiru said to Funari. "This is your first time, yeah? What brings you here?"

"Mine's a twofold goal—to prove my strength as a sumo wrestler, and to win the prize money!" Funari said proudly. "Some people look at sumo as just 'fat-guy wrestling,' but there's way more to it than that!"

"That is true; like karate, sumo has an educational history behind it, as like all other martial arts," said Zosui. "But what will you use the prize money for, if you win?"

"I'm gonna use it to support my training, of course!" said Funari.

"By which you mean 'all-you-can-eat buffets all the time,' right?" Sabiru smirked.

"Well, if it's part of the training…" Funari grinned.

"Heh-heh." Hanare chuckled. "Well, now, gentlemen, I'm ready to order. Here, please!" and she raised a hand to get the attention of one of the servers.

OoOoO

"I'll take the grilled chicken with potato salad, please," Ahmya told her table's server, who quickly jotted the order down on a notepad.

"I'd like the steak, well done, with grilled garlic potatoes," said Temujin.

"Steak for me too—but I want mine medium-rare, with mashed potatoes," said Gantetsu.

"And I'll have the vegetable lasagna, and a serving of steamed vegetables to go with it," said Kyoya.

The server finished jotting down the orders. "Very well; your lunch will be served shortly," and she left.

"What—no meat for you? You one of them tree-hugger types or something?" Gantetsu smirked at Kyoya.

"What I eat or don't eat is my business." Kyoya glared at him. "You sound almost as stupid as that bastard Sabiru."

"What'd you say?" Gantetsu's smirk instantly disappeared.

"Gentlemen, please, save the aggression for the arena," Temujin urged them, holding up his hands to stave off the quarrel. "But please explain for us, Kyoya-san, why you and Sabiru-san seem to hate each other. The way you were looking at each other on the boat, you could've set the ocean itself on fire."

"Hmph." Kyoya gave a contemptuous snort. "His Ishi no Hi ninja clan thinks they're superior to everyone else, especially our Kazaha clan—and it stems from way back during the Sengoku era. The details are murky, I admit, but the Ishi no Hi and the Kazaha have been sworn enemies from at least back then. Although, even if our clans weren't feuding, Sabiru is still an asshole anyway—see these?" and he pointed to his facial scars. "He put these on my face just to rub salt in the wound when he defeated me last Zenkusen. But then, that's just like the Ishi no Hi…kicking you when you're down."

"All right, so you want revenge. I can dig that—wouldn't be the first time somebody entered a tournament to settle a score or two." Gantetsu looked at Temujin. "How about you, though? You're here from that Gelel Foundation—does a health-care provision company really have to get involved in the Zenkusen?"

"You heard Junichi-san say that he works for the Kurama family, right?" said Temujin. "The Kurama and Gelel families have been rivals for a while now—although, perhaps, not quite as antagonistic as these two ninja clans," and he gestured to Kyoya. "But even noble families like ours have to display strength once in a while or else we'll get stepped on. As a professional wrestler, maintaining a show of strength is surely something you can relate to, right, Gantetsu-san?"

"No argument there!" Gantetsu grinned and flexed a bicep. "I might not have won either of the previous two tournaments, but as a famous face in the wrestling circuit, I've got a reputation to maintain. Just having done well enough in this shindig is grounds enough for toughness cred—but I aim to go all the way this time around."

Up to now Ahmya hadn't said a word since placing her lunch order with the server. Now Kyoya looked at her. "And what about you, Ahmya?" he asked. "You said on the boat that your being in this tournament is a matter of honor. Care to expand on that?"

"It's personal." Ahmya's response was blunt.

"Ooh, better back off from this one—she'll bite you," Gantetsu chuckled.

Temujin shook his head—and then he started as his attention was arrested by something else. "Hey, look who's here…!"

OoOoO

Having just had his water-glass filled by one of the servers, Mikoshi was in the act of taking a mouthful of the liquid when he took note of something. "Ahem…" He swallowed the water. "We have company."

His tablemates looked up to see what he was referencing. Junichi smiled. "Kurosawa-sama."

One by one, the participants paused their chatter and centered their attention on Mifune, even as the older man walked past the tables and made his way to the raised platform. Easily making his way through the ring's boundary-ropes, he stood up tall and looked around, ensuring that all eyes were on him. "Good morning once again, everyone," he spoke up. "I trust my servers are treating you well, and that your lunch orders have been taken already?"

"Oh, yeah!" Funari called out, while several others in the audience merely nodded in response.

"Good. Now, while lunch is being served, let me take this opportunity to give you the official welcome to this third annual staging of our Zenkusen tournament," said Mifune. "Newcomers and returning challengers alike, I am honored to be your host, and it is my great hope that you will all do your utmost best to showcase your skills. Now, to get the preliminary fluff out of the way, allow me to give a brief breakdown of what this tournament entails, especially for the benefit of our new entrants."

He looked around at the sixteen fighters, then went on. "Two years ago, the Zenkusen was created by our resident Paragons," and he looked around at Junichi, Ryota and Hanare in turn, "in order to provide an appropriate avenue for Mist City's resident fighters to direct their aggression. This tradition has been upheld since then, and as I said previously, this year will be the third time that our best fighters, chosen by our Paragons from not only Mist City, but from wider locations across Water County, will be battling to determine who is the best of the best. But that brings up a question: who will be the best of the best this time around? Will it be Ito Ryota, our champion from last year? Or will Jomae Hanare, the winner of our first tournament, make a comeback this year? Or, perhaps, will it be Paragon member Gushiken Junichi's time to shine? Or will one of you other contestants surprise us and claim the final victory, as well as the very generous $5 million prize on offer?"

Mifune paused in his speech, taking in the anticipatory looks on the fighters' faces. Then he continued.

"The rules of the tournament are as follows: The fights will consist of empty-hand combat, so no weapons are allowed as this would give a fighter an unfair advantage. Each match will progress until one fighter is incapacitated or forfeits—but killing an opponent is strictly forbidden, and any attempt to do so will result in the offender being immediately ejected from the tournament. The initial matches will be determined by random selection, and thereafter will be conducted in single-elimination style. Once the other fifteen combatants have been eliminated, the sole remaining fighter will then face one final challenger pre-selected by yours truly, and that final battle will determine your worthiness to claim victory in the entire Zenkusen. And now…to give you a preview of what's shortly to come…"

At this point Mifune looked straight to the back of the room, lifted his hands and clapped them sharply together twice. "KENTARO!"

OoOoO

The sharp gasp of breath arrested Ajisai's attention. Turning in the direction of the sound, she was just in time to see Mikoshi starting in his chair seconds before he turned to look in the direction Mifune was currently facing—and—

All the way to her dying day, she would swear up and down that she had never seen such a look of utter hate on anyone's face as she saw on Mikoshi's face in that moment when he set his eyes on the owner of the name Kentaro. His grip on his water-glass instantly tightened; she was certain that if he gripped the glass any tighter, he'd break it. Their tablemates seemed to notice Mikoshi's change in demeanor, too; Morio's cheerful attitude was replaced by a look of real concern, while Junichi's face was grave.

"Oi…" Morio's tone was wary. "Do you know that guy?"

"I do." Mikoshi's voice was flat and ugly. "Kimura Kentaro…my father."

OoOoO

The other contestants all gave the new arrival a curious once-over. Kentaro was a tall man, sporting spiky light-brown hair, and wearing a black tank-top, black pants, and black leather shoes, plus black hand-wraps that covered up to his wrists. His arm-muscles were very evident, and even his just-as-muscular chest seemed to want to break out of the tank-top. On the man's face was a stoic expression, and he looked neither left nor right as he made his way to the platform where Mifune was.

Omoi's eyes slowly followed the stranger's progression from his point of entry to almost up at the stage…and it was just at that point that he caught a glimpse of Mikoshi's face on the other side of the dining space. Whoa, hold up—what the hell's up with Kimura all of a sudden?

Pakura appeared to have noticed it, too. "Your companion's reaction to seeing this Kentaro is…curious," she commented to Omoi.

"That's one hell of an understatement," Omoi muttered.

Ryota was frowning, too. "I've seen that look before. Kyoya and Sabiru have been wearing similar looks when it comes to each other, from ever since they fought each other last tournament…but that guy's stink-eye somehow ranks as worse than even theirs." His eyes narrowed. "My guess is that he knows Kentaro somehow."

"Perhaps," said Chukichi. "By any chance, maybe you would want to take it up with your friend, Yamazaki-kun?"

"…you know what?" Omoi crossed his arms over his chest. "I actually just might."

OoOoO

Mifune was addressing the group again. "Ladies and gentlemen, meet Kentaro, the fighter I have handpicked to be the final challenge for this year's tournament," he said. "And just so you may dispel any idea that he will be an easy obstacle to overcome, allow me to show you what he is capable of…" and he now looked toward one of the open exits for the dining area and clapped his hands together twice again.

In an instant two uniformed servants appeared, holding a struggling third one in between them. "Mifune-sama, please, don't! I beg you!" the third man hollered.

"Perhaps I should explain what exactly is happening," Mifune continued quite calmly. "This other gentleman you see being brought out here, he was caught this very morning trying to steal items of value from the servants' quarters here on the island. That kind of behavior inconveniences my employees, and by extension, it will inconvenience my guests." His eyes flashed. "And if there's one thing I cannot abide among people in my employ, it is dishonesty. Such behavior is grounds for immediate dismissal, regardless of the reason."

"Please, sir! I had no choice! I was forced to—" the hapless man began.

"Regardless. Of. The reason." Mifune bit out the words with a harder tone than he'd used before. "However, this man will have an opportunity to save himself from expulsion…if he can hold his own against Kentaro here in a fight. In fact, I'll even throw in a few extra handicaps: Kentaro will only be allowed to use one limb of his choosing to attack with, but if my servant here can land one solid blow on Kentaro, then it will be counted as a win for him and I will instantly forgive his transgression. With that being said…" and for the first time, he deigned to look at the servant in question. "Bring him in the ring."

The two servants holding the unlucky one captive now brought him closer to the platform and made him ascend the small staircase, then shoved him through the ropes. Now Mifune turned to Kentaro. "And which of your limbs will you use? Remember, you can only use one to attack with."

Kentaro simply raised his left arm.

"Ah, your left arm, is it? Very well. And, for the record, ladies and gentlemen, that's not his dominant arm." Mifune glanced at the sweating servant. "Your job's on the line, young man. Make this count." And he made his way out of the ring without another word.

The hapless servant looked desperately around for any avenue to escape, but already all the other servants nearby were gathering around the ring—escape would be futile, it was clear. Then, gulping loudly, he turned to look at Kentaro. "Oh, great…so…" He breathed in and out hard. "Just your left arm, right? And if I hit you once, I win?"

Kentaro placed his right arm behind his back, held his left hand up in front of his torso, and nodded.

"Grr…okay, then…YAAAAAAH!" The servant ran at Kentaro, one arm up and fist clenched in readiness—

Whup-whup-whup-whup-whup!

—and suddenly he recoiled and staggered backward as, without even moving the rest of his body, Kentaro launched five rapid-fire jab-punches into his face and midsection. Blood spurted from the man's nose and mouth, and he cringed as he held his lower face with one hand and his gut with the other—but less than a second later Kentaro was up in his personal space and swung his left fist into a vicious uppercut under the man's chin, forcing the victim to flip partway before landing hard on his back.

"Uhhh…" The servant barely had time to register his surroundings before Kentaro was standing over him, and the bigger man flung his left fist down into the servant's face…and then the servant knew no more.

OoOoO

Krk.

Ajisai's eyes widened in real alarm as a section of Mikoshi's glass cracked in his ever-tightening grip. "Mikoshi, no!" she hissed at him.

"Bastard…" Mikoshi growled low in his throat, paying no need to Ajisai, as his glasses lenses shone from the angle of the light flashing on them just enough to obscure his eyes. "Haven't changed…haven't changed…still the same bastard…!"

A finger flicked on the tip of his nose, startling him. "Huh…!"

Morio was looking at him with a narrowed gaze of his own, even as his finger remained upright from having just flicked Mikoshi's nose. "Dude. Calm your ass down." His tone was completely humorless.

Ajisai seized her opportunity, reaching over and covering Mikoshi's hand that was gripping the glass with both of her own. "Mikoshi, please…breathe," she whispered.

Several seconds passed as Mikoshi's hand trembled, Ajisai looked at him anxiously, and Morio and Junichi watched him keenly. And then…Mikoshi's breathing became more even. "…okay," he said softly, to nobody in particular. "Okay."

Mifune's voice speaking up again at that moment caught their attention once more. "There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Our chosen champion warrior for this year's staging of the Zenkusen, showcasing what he's capable of doing—and that's when he's restricted. What would he be like in a real showdown, you wonder? The only way to know for sure…is to defeat all the other challengers, make it to the final round, and face Kentaro directly. So, once again, who among you will be crowned this year's tournament winner? Only you can determine that—by showing yourself superior to all others present here!"

Glancing around, Ajisai noted that several of the other participants were looking on with combinations of awe and respect…and in Omoi's case, she noted his low-key smirk. Then she looked up at Kentaro, still in the ring…and she saw no emotion on his face, not even a sign of reaction from him as two servants now came into the ring and hefted the unconscious victim out.

One thought crossed her mind as she took in all of this. This is gonna suck.

"Now that you have seen what is to come, I say to all of you…enjoy your meals as they arrive, and refresh yourselves afterward," Mifune concluded. "Then make sure you all are ready…because at 1:00 today, the first round of the Zenkusen tournament will begin!"

OoOoO

END GAIDEN 63

00000

NEON MAJESTIC: And so, the fighters in the Zenkusen have received a sample of what to expect once the tournament fully begins…with that demonstration being provided by Mikoshi's long-lost and not-at-all-loved father.

For Kentaro's physical appearance, I went with the human appearance of the priest who would later be the basis for Pain's Naraka Path. The name "Kentaro" means "big man," and it was one I found online completely by accident while trying to think of a name for him (he was unnamed in the original canon). Here, it fits his physical appearance quite well, especially considering the curb-stomp battle he gave that poor schmuck at Mifune's direction.

And while I'm at it, I should acknowledge that a good chunk of the Zenkusen, from here on out, is going to take some inspiration from the tournament outline as shown in the Mortal Kombat franchise. Mifune himself has an appearance not unlike that of Shang Tsung from the first game, while Kentaro's name sounds quite similar to Kintaro from the second game.

All right…next Gaiden chapter, the Mist City Chronicles will continue with the Zenkusen's first round officially getting underway! Who will fight whom? Wait for it and see!