Kengan Alternative
Ch. 8: Showstopper
"Put on a show?" Akarou Kirishima scoffed, repeating what Lorenzo Romano just said. "You really do think this is a game, don't you?"
"Of course!" the ex-magician across from him replies, rolling his shoulders back. "Look at the crowd behind me. They're who you're here for, not me. Listen to them, they're waiting with baited breath for us to clash again."
Romano stepped around Kirishima, the Lethwei fighter raising his guard and stepping in the other direction. As they circled each other, Kirishima realised Romano was right, the crowd felt tense, waiting for the next blow to be struck with rapt attention.
"Two warriors, circling and circling" Lorenzo continued "sizing each other up, taking stock of each other's injuries, their fighting styles, possible next moves… they love that tension, waiting to see which one breaks the stalemate…"
Akarou couldn't help but frown, Romano was right. He's been predicting how Romano could react to attacks, how to counter his counters… He knows how fighters think so well, is the whole showman thing an act?
"...and the tension climbs, higher and higher, until…"
Kirishima exploded forwards, momentum carrying him into an elbow strike which struck Romano-
Art of Deception: Shuffle
-And phased right through him. Lorenzo had become a blur of disorientating afterimages, irregular footwork turning him into a half dozen mirages. Kirishima stepped back, eyes darting left to right to keep up with the technique.
"...One fighter strikes, unable to bear the tension any longer, and the opponent deftly counters with an unknown technique!" Romano finished his sentence, lashing out punches as his footwork carried him effortlessly around Akarou. Kirishima blocked, but the irregular movement kept his attention focused on responding to blows, and frustratingly little else.
"Now, how will you get out of this one, I wonder? Back off, and attempt to gain distance? Rush in and try to blindly swing at me? Better think fast, before I ramp up the pressu-"
WHAM.
An elbow to the jaw rocked Romano out of his Shuffle. As he punched, Akarou had batted down the incoming fist with his elbow, before sliding along the outstretched arm and across the shoulder, connecting with Romano's face.
"I'll let you think you've got me on the backfoot, while I figure out your footworks timing. How's that for drama?" Kirishima asked. In response, Lorenzo smiled, gesturing to the crowd with one hand and working his jaw with the other.
"You should ask them."
True to his words, the crowd roared in approval of Akarou's counter. Kirishima lowered, and followed up with a rush of punches, two of which found their mark and the third hit air, Lorenzo's Vanish causing him to bypass it and use the opportunity to swing into a high kick, almost like a Capoeristas compact half-moon, directed into Kirishima's temple. The two fighters both felt the impact of bone on bone, followed by the crunch and grind of a hairline crack. But when Romano spun back to his feet, the pain that shot through his leg made him know something had gone wrong. Kirishima looked back at him through a guard, a thin trickle of blood visible on his forehead. At the last second, he noticed the kick, and responded as only a fighter trained in Lethwei could, turning to block the kick with the thickest part of his skull.
"I wasn't suited for Lethwei. But what can I say? I fell in love with it."
Years ago, Myanmar.
Kirishima threw kick after kick into his opponent, a far younger fighter, and felt like he was hitting an iron post, one that was laughing and boasting in Burmese at him. His shins were bloody and beaten, worn down by the boy's guard alone, and the moment he put his legs down for a rest, the opponent rushed in and planted a headbutt square into Akarou's nose, sending him crashing to the mat.
"Good technique, Kirishima. You throw kicks with perfect form!"
Kirishima lifted the ice pack from his nose to look up at his trainer. He always had an encouraging word, and he was right, there was little Akarou did wrong technique-wise, but he always avoided saying the obvious.
"I started too late, didn't I?"
"You take to Lethwei like a duck to water." The trainer looked pained as he chose his next words, as though he was breaking an uncomfortable truth. "But… the kids who fight here, they start when they're around seven, Lethwei is all they know. You've seen the state of some of them, this could be their only chance to make something of themselves."
Across from them, Kirishima watches a boy no older than thirteen throw punch after punch into a metal post wrapped in rope. His knuckles tore and bled, sweat beaded on his body, as blow by blow he bent the metal post into a right angle.
"So they train for an entire childhood, and gain a skeleton of steel in return. You have the skill, Kirishima, you just… missed the boat a little."
Akarou put the ice pack back on his nose. He knew it, but it felt worse to have it spelled out by another.
"Alright then… so what else can I do?"
"Well, keep honing that skill, I'd say. I have a friend, he's a master of Naban. I'll recommend you to him. Maybe you can't be as unbreakable as some of these fighters… but maybe you don't have to be."
"I don't have the unbreakable skull of a proper Lethwei fighter" Kirishima wiped a thumb across his forehead, feeling the broken skin "but with what conditioning I did, my forehead is more than a match for all the tiny bones in your foot."
Lorenzo tested his foot, feeling like he just kicked a brick wall.
"So, I take it you're more than just a half-formed Lethwei fighter then?" He said, grinning.
Half-formed? Kirishima knew it was an obvious insult, but it stung all the same. Closing the distance, he was almost caught by an arcing kick from Romano, who backed off again, using the reach of his kicks to keep Akarou from getting too close.
"I've combined Lethwei with Burmese wrestling." Akarou stepped in as Romano threw a kick,wrapping an arm around the outstretched leg and lifting, upsetting Romano's centre of balance. Any punches that would come would be stretched and weak, easy to block or parry. "I don't just use striking, I can grapple, throw, lock joints… it's a total fighting style, Burmese Vale Tudo." To emphasise, he leant back, twisting the leg in a painful one-armed heel hold, watching the magician clenching his jaw against the pain.
"Ah, right, Miss Morioka mentioned the Sameha Style in your introduction." Despite being unbalanced and at Kirishima's mercy, despite the reddening of his face and the pain flashing across his features, Romano still kept up the appearance of smooth control. "So, you've just flitted about, skimming from the tops of multiple martial arts, and given it a fancy name?"
The bite caught Kirishima off guard for a second, and he was a second late as Romano leapt off the ground and twisted, his other leg kicking into Akarou's neck, forcing him to loosen his grip and drop Lorenzo. The magician rolled to his feet just in time for an angered Kirishima to charge him.
For most people, angering a martial artist is a poor decision. But for Lorenzo Romano, he knew an opponent could be controlled by his emotions just as well as any joint lock. As Kirishima came in to strike, he saw the rage in his face, all thoughts of defence gone in favour of beating the crap out of him. He avoided the wide swing, wrapping his arms around him in a clinch and throwing a powerful knee up into his stomach.
Grunting, Akarou threw his hands down, catching the knee and thrusting it aside. before throwing his arms out and wrapping around Romano's biceps.
"OOHHH! COUNTER-CLINCH!" Setsuko Morioka exclaimed, hammering her fist on the announcers table in excitement. The two fighters struggled for a moment, Lorenzo straining against the Samehaka's lock.
"You want me to prove my style to you?" Kirishima hissed in his ear.
Lorenzo's plan had worked, he only hoped it hadn't worked too well.
"Now who's talking too much, huh?" Came his response, and felt himself leave the ground, gravity turning violently. Kirishima had lifted Romano's 183-pound frame, twisted around and thrown him into an arcing chest-to-chest body slam. As they fell, he pushed his weight into an elbow against Romano's chest as they fell, the shark sinking its teeth in. "This is the Sameha Style!"
Sameha Style: Great White
Art of Deception: Ditch
They landed, and Akarou felt his elbow crunch into his opponent's ribcage, then further through him, impacting on the arena's sandy floor. The magician who was beneath him a split second ago had once again vanished, impossibly twisting away at the very moment of impact through another evasive technique.
"Counteratt-" Akarou knew what was going to come next, but the guard didn't defend against the uncomplicated soccer kick that connected with the back of his head, hard. He fell forwards, his body feeling heavy and off-kilter, the onset of a concussion.
"I'm known for escape acts as much as my magic tricks, just so you know!" Romano's voice rang out, and Kirishima spun in time to dodge the next blow, nearly on instinct.
"Don't feel bad, at least it looked impressive!" Lorenzo launched forwards with a straight kick, separating akarous guard long enough to turn the kick into a step and throwing an uppercut that he just managed to sway back to avoid. "You're a natural performer, do those fancy moves have cool names as well?"
Kirishima thought back to a talk with his employer, years back when he began fighting for him. Kaito Kosuke had the biggest smile on his face, holding a bottle of beer in one hand and excitedly coming up with ideas for finishing moves, miming them in the middle of his office and using a very tired looking assistant to demonstrate them on. Akarou had settled on only a few useful moves, adapting them to be less flashy, more effective, but kept the names as a concession to Kosuke.
Shit, was this a show then? The stage name, the gimmicky "special attacks"? If Romano was right about that, what else could he be right about…
No, NO! Kirishima brought his guard down, and stared daggers at Romano's swaying form through the concussion.
"I'm a fighter! Nothing more, nothing less!"
"Then prove it to yourself! Prove it to the crowd you're performing for! DANCE, MONKEY!"
Kirishima roared, baring his fangs and charging, a wild elbow phasing straight through an afterimage.
Art of Deception: Shuffle
Still trying to shake the concussion, the ghosts of Romano felt even more disorienting to Kirishima. But it didn't stop him from throwing violent blows, punches, kicks, knees, hitting air as the magician led the enraged fighter around by his nose. As he did, he returned with his own attacks, low kicks, jabs, a withering blur of rapid strikes.
Plus Art of Deception: Flourish
On and on, a whirlwind of high and low strikes, kicks to Kirishima's shins and knees, punches to his kidneys, elbows to the back of his head and temples, Romano appearing to come from a dozen directions at once, a barrage created specifically to bring down one angry, concussed Sameha fighter, rattling his brain and under death by a thousand cuts.
Equals Art of Deception: Card Shark
Kirishima's perception had shrunk down to a single point: his own tortured body. At some point he had stopped throwing out attacks, instead closing into a guard, covering his head to try and allow some respite for his senses to return. Then, without warning, it stopped. Without the onslaught, the tension holding up his arms left him and they lowered in time for him to see Romano throw a punch directly at his jawbone. As he fell, he heard the crowd cheering.
"WINNER! LORENZO ROMANO!" As the referee called the victory, Romano turned, his arms wide, basking in his audience's applause, before lowering into an exaggerated bow. As he rose he was grinning broadly, and waved to a few of the more attractive women in the crowd on his walk away from the stage.
"Wow, didn't think Romano would have it in him." Agnes Dovraga said to the other assembled fighters. Next to her, Kure Shishō looked down at the prone Akarou, who to his credit had jolted awake shortly after the medics had reached him, and was already standing.
"By all accounts, he shouldn't have." He said. "Kirishima is stronger, tougher, and faster. In terms of pure ability, he's the superior fighter."
"But Romano moves like something else, his combat intelligence is through the roof! It's like he could see what Kirishima was going to do before he did it, there's no other way he could've moved like that!"
"Besides" Sansone Maciste added "Looked like he was winding Kirishima up, throwing him off his game. I gotta say, pretty underhanded thing to do, but if it works…"
"...All's fair, right?" Irving Blake grinned, opening another beer bottle. "Good fight, anyhow! Can't wait to see who's next!"
He put the bottle to his lips, then blinked.
"Oh shit, it's me! Uh…" he handed the bottle to Agnes, who took it, raising an eyebrow. "Can you hold that till I win?"
Not waiting for an answer, he turned and went to get changed. After he left, Dovraga looked at the bottle in her hand, shrugged, and drank it.
MATCH 2 WINNER: LORENZO ROMANO
WIN BY: STRAIGHT PUNCH
Once down the tunnel, away from his audience, Lorenzo Romano slumped against the wall, spitting blood and wheezing heavily. His foot was on fire, to say nothing of the pain in his ribs. It hurt just to breathe, if he had been a split-second later with his dodge…
"Romano."
Lorenzo sucked in and straightened up, turning to see Akarou approaching him. The other fighter was bruised, and stood a little shakily, but apart from that, he seemed none the worse for wear.
"If someone saw us now, they'd say you'd lost, not me." He grinned.
"Yeah… do me a favour, act more injured, alright?" Romano laughed, and cringed as a pain shot through him. "I don't want people thinking I came out of that worse off." He put his back to the wall, sliding down it to the floor.
"You're the performer, not me, I'll leave the acting to you." Kirishima replied, sitting down next to him. He didn't quite know what to say, until…
"I don't get it. You've got fantastic combat sense, maybe the best I've ever seen. If you focused on fighting, instead of putting on a show…"
"Ah, but there lies the problem. I'm a performer at heart, just like how you're a fighter. I live to please an audience, just like you live to win, and I don't think we could be as good as we are if we did it differently. So to that extent…" he presented a hand for Kirishima to take.
"...sorry about all that stuff I said. I was just trying to get under your skin."
Kirishima paused, and then shook his hand.
"I know you were, I'm just sorry to say that It worked. I guess… maybe you're right, about this being for show, but the fights are still real. If you were going to fight somebody willing to kill you, do you think you'd be ready for that?"
"Don't be so dramatic!" Romano smiled, pushing himself to his feet "I beat the Akarou Kirishima, right? I think I'll be just fine."
He turned to leave, hoping to reach the medical ward before that hot nurse left, when Irving Blake jogged past him, his massively muscular legs on full display in a pair of football shorts.
"Hey you two! Good fight! See you in round three, alright Romano?" He called, not stopping as he jogged out into the arena, for the third fight...