Chapter 8 The Star's story.
I'm back my lovelies! Sorry this took so damn long, writers block is all forms of hell. So now, enjoy this two part chapter!
[Omega Note: This took for freaking ever, on both sides of the equation. For Ragnorak to write and for me to edit, so much so that we actually had to split this thing in half. Sorry about that, enjoy!]
Holy shit, I'm sore! Owwwwwwww!
Those would be my first thoughts after my first training session with Bahamat. My body ached and pained in places I didn't even know were possible. Worst part of it was that I didn't fully learn the magic; Bahamut told me it would take another few days or so until I could be up to par with Natsu or any of the other Dragon Slayers.
When I woke up the morning after training I noticed two things: first, I could move again so yay! Gotta love Gamer's Body when it works. Second, I had a big screen in front of my face that made me a very pissed-off Gamer, why? Well. . .
{Game glitched out while you were napping and you lost about. . . 199 stat points. Sucks to be you! Fortunately, as I am a just and humble God of Chaos, I've decided to take those points and place them where I please! Enjoy your new Stats! Love, Ragnorak}
I called my Stats up to see how badly Ragnorak had screwed up my build.
Name: Spencer A. Hott
Alias: Mores M. Operandi
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Title: The Gamer/Merciful Death.
Level: 200
HP: 2050(regen: 105 HP per minute)
MP: 8850(regen: 3150 MP per minute)
Str:169
Vit:90(-8)
Dex:241 (+4)
Int:339 (+15)
Wis:300 (+15)
Luc:170 (+5)
Stat points: 0
Money: 500000 yen
Skill points: 140
Affinities:
Chaos:1050(+20)
Fire: 1040(+20)
Lighting: 90(+20)
Earth: 55(+20)
Water: 70(+20)
Wind: 35(+20)
Dark: 1050(+20)
Light: 95(+20)
'Damnit! I was gonna train up my Strength stat!' Before I could curse out Ragnorak, I noticed something else, a certain smell. After a moment, I realized it was the smell of something being burnt. I jumped to the only conclusion I could while still half asleep.
'The Hero Faction is burning my house down! Water! Fire hydrant! Extinguisher! Something I can use before my house burns to the ground!' I raced down the steps, thinking I saw a fire extinguisher in the kitchen. . . only to see that the smoke was coming from inside the kitchen itself. How my smoke alarm didn't go off I have no clue. That is, until I saw the source of the fire, and she was covered in soot.
Disbelief overrode my panic as I just kinda stood there open-mouthed as Murayama tried to put out. . . whatever the hell she had tried to make. I forced my jaw back in its place as I walked up to her and asked her as politely as possible.
"What in the world is that?" She stared down at her burnt piece of culinary tragedy and gave me a nervous shrug.
"It was supposed to be scrambled eggs."
". . .Why are there pieces of the shell in the pan?"
"I guess I missed some." She laughed nervously as I stood there, gobsmacked.
'Missed some? More like missed the whole shell! Dear God, there's more shell than egg in that pan!' I had the tact to not say that; so instead I gave her, and her crime against cooking, a dead eyed stare. One that I've perfected over my life, even through my mask she could feel it.
"Is it that bad?"
"Do you want to taste it?" I asked her. She nodded, hoping to prove me wrong no doubt. That or save face, but honestly I didn't care. Is this what Bobby Flay and the other one have to deal with on Worst Cooks of America? Is there a japanese version?
Either way, Murayama took a stab at the abomination with a plastic fork, which promptly broke on impact with the 'eggs'.I made a motion for her to continue with the attempt. She stared down her creation, took a deep breath, and ate the entire thing in just one bite. Twenty seconds passed when the Kendoka got green in the face, rushed over to the trash and violently removed the contents of her stomach. I held her hair back as she barfed, didn't need the smell of vomit in my place for the next several hours. After she was done, barfing her guts up, I made some tea for Murayama and some good, old-fashioned coffee for myself.
"So. . . Wanna explain why you nearly burned the house down?" I asked her from behind my 'The Godfather' mug; being able to drink with my mask on had many advantages: one of those was looking professional right after I had woken up.
"Well, I wanted to thank you for letting me stay here for the past couple days and I thought making breakfast for you would be a good way of showing my appreciation. But, you saw how that went." As if to mock her, whatever was left on the pan burst into flames. She eeped as I put out the flame out at the same time; apparently, there was a fire extinguisher down there, right by my seat. Neat.
I washed the pan immediately! Burnt food has a tendency to stick if I didn't wash it afterwards. Once that was out of the way, I showed her the proper way of making scrambled eggs. Somehow, Murayama struggled to separate the yolks, which is the easiest part of the job!
Groaning mentally, but outwardly showing saintly levels of patience she finally managed to make some halfway decent eggs.
"Now these we can actually eat." I told her; she had a slight blush, but it was wiped away as we ate in comfortable silence. I liked silence, it was nice, calm and most of all qui-
"Hey, Mores, did you know there's a kendo tournament in a few days?" She asked me. Mental screaming aside, I hadn't known, that or I had forgotten because of the shit show that was yesterday. It was best to pretend I did know but not the specifics, it had worked for me so far.
"Yeah, I think I saw a poster, it was in Kyoto right?" I did need to know since I was the unofficial coach afterall. She nodded and I had to stop myself from showing my shock that I got it right the first time.
'Damn, maybe those extra points in Wisdom did something after all.' I made a mental note to check to see if it was my Wisdom, or my Luck, that helped me out.
"The big city, it's a class against class bracket. Our school was invited, though we need a coach to chaperone us and drive us to the arena." She said so sweetly, I gave her a bug eyed look, while I pointed to myself. Murayama nodded very enthusiastically.
'Ah hell, I don't know how to drive a bus! I also don't know where the stupid thing is!' As I was having my mental freak-out moment, I felt like I was forgetting something. 'Oh yeah!'
"How does the class vs class bracket even work? Isn't kendo a more. . . calm sport?" I asked her, since I was thinking it might actually be a Royal Rumble-type thing. . . and now I have bikini-clad ladies wrestling in a mud pit as an image. . . I blame Issei for this. She must've caught the first part of my thought process due to my silence.
"Oh it is, it's actually based on a lottery system that picks the three people for each round, then the rounds are split into sub rounds where the six people on both sides go against each-other. Its the best of three, where if one teammate wins a match it counts as one point, then the successful team moves forward in the tournament. Until, finally, we have one winner. It's very simple if you just think about it." She finished her explanation like it was an everyday occurrence and not at all confusing.
"So it's basically a randomly selected two out of three match between classes?" She nodded.
'Oh thank god! It is actually really simple. Dodged a bullet there, but that still leaves one big problem, well two, now that I think about it.'
"The flyer was ripped near the bottom, so I don't know when the actual tournament is. Also, where the heck do I find a bus?" It was best to get those questions out as soon as possible. I took a sip of my coffee as she answered.
"Oh, we can get a bus from the school-" 'Okay, good.' "- and the tournament is taking place in three days."
"PBBBT!" I instantly performed a spit-take. Luckily, my Luck stat kicked in and I managed not to spit in Murayama's face.
"WHAT?! Holy crap!" I shouted. "Three days?! That's not nearly enough time. Dear lord, am I even registered as a coach?! " So many worries, not enough time for them all, and here I thought I wouldn't have these types of worries as 'The Gamer'. Shit!
"Hey, hey, do you think Katase and I are that absent minded that we wouldn't have registered you as the Kendo Club's coach?" She asked with crossed arms. I shrugged, if someone who is three years older than her, I.e. me, forgot something so important than I assumed they would have too.
"As for time, we'll just have to train a bit harder than we normally do." Okay, she had a point, but. . .
"What about your classes? I'm sure the teachers-"
"We're excused from our classes if we have a tournament coming up. You'll just have to make sure we're all there for attendance." Okay, I can work with this.
I took a breath to calm myself down, then gave Murayama a thumbs-up. "So, do you have a rulebook for Kendo tournaments on you? I should go over them in detail since I'm the coach." Unfortunately, she didn't have them on her, but she did say they may be in the club's office. 'The club has an office?' I didn't voice the question and she didn't answer it.
'Please don't be a mess.'
Thirty Minutes Later
'I asked for it to not! Not to be a mess!' My eye twitched murderously behind my mask. What I saw was a Compulsive-Hoarder's wet dream. Precariously stacked papers as far as the eye could see, the desk covered in trash and sticky residue that I hoped was just caramel. Overall, it was a pigsty; Murayama and Katase chuckled nervously behind me, sensing my annoyance at the mess.
"Yeah, our last coach didn't like the idea of cleaning too much." Katase chuckled nervously as I glared at the stacks of endless paperwork. 'If I had my way they'd all be burning!'
"Why didn't you clean this ages ago?" I had to ask, I tried to keep my annoyance out of my voice but I'm sure it slipped a little. They began to chuckle nervously, they were hiding something and I didn't like where it was going.
"Well. . . it's tradition in this club for the new coach to clean after the last one." Murayama told me. I turned around, took off my mask, so they could see my very unamused reaction.
"You're shitting me. You just made that up, didn't you?" I deadpanned; they got defensive but didn't refute my point. Then, when I wasn't looking they ran away!
I was about to pop my top in another dimension, but a cracking of glass told me my Star Arcana had ranked up again, 'its at six right?' I shook my head so I could focus on the paperwork. . . which only seemed to multiply the more I looked at it.
'Screw it!' I sat down in the chair and grabbed the first piece of paperwork I saw. 'High Dex and Int don't fail me now!'
Another Thirty Minutes Later
That. . . had been easier than I thought it would be. Most of the stuff was out of date so I brought it into Stillborn and burned it all, it felt good to do that. The rest was some budget stuff, god my head still hurts from that. Then, it was time to clean the stupid room; considering I could see a couch that had been buried until a few minutes ago and everything sparkled. Yeah, I cleaned that place up pretty well. I would've stayed there and continued my internal gloating of my cleaning skills. if Katase didn't come in.
"We're ready to begin. . . training, god this place is clean! There's a couch?! Where was that?"
"Under the stacks of paperwork and trash, also that sticky stuff on the table was not caramel." I told her, that had been an. . . interesting discovery. 'I'm just gonna repress that in three. . . two. . . one. . . Boop! Good, now, what was I just doing? Oh yeah, coaching. . . they're completely screwed.'
That helpful thought buried inside my concious I followed Katase back to the sparring mat; the entire club was sitting to the side and she sat down with them.
'This is where the adult says something smart, isn't it? Shit nuggets. . .' That thought replayed itself on loop for a few moments before I gave myself a mental smack upside the head. I coughed into my fist, getting their attention.
'Time to make something up, it worked for Saitama in a fan fiction so I hope it works here.' [Omega Note: It worked for Saitama in general]
"Okay, the kendo tournament is coming up quick and, as you know, it's different from the normal tournaments. You all probably know this, but I'll say it just to be sure. This type of tournament means any single one of you could end up in a match, not just the captain. Throw in the fact that the tournament is only in three days and we have a recipe for embarrassing defeat."
There were a few murmurs among the group, but Murayama's glare quieted them instantly. I grabbed a bokken from one of the racks, then stood back in front of the gathered club members.
"Before I tell you my game plan, do you believe honour has a place on the mat?" I asked 'rhetorically' the rules being different this year making me wonder if they can adapt. As I suspected Murayama spoke for the club and her answer was just what I figured.
"Well, of course! Mutual respect for opponents goes both ways. It's the way to do things in a tournament." The club offered murmurs of agreement, I had to suffocate the desire to scoff but they would learn.
"Well, the tournament doesn't think so. The rules involving combat only restrict blows to the neck and above, anything other than that is allowed. Do you think your opponents will uphold any sense of honor?"
I heard, once more, murmurs of agreement. With that, I pulled a projector out of the storage closet, why they had this I have no idea but it was definitely useful. I connected it to my phone and looked up Warfare-based kendo tournaments.
The video started off innocently enough with both opponents bowing respectfully at the beginning and sharing some friendly banter, but it spiraled downhill fairly quickly. So much so that they had forgone their weapons and were rolling across the mat beating each other senseless. Figuring they saw enough I turned off the projector and shoved it back into the storage closet.
"What was that!?"
"That was the most extreme case of what could happen during this tournament, Katase. So, anyone still thinks the opposition will fight with honour? At least your standards of honour?" I asked once more. Silence, now that is the reaction I wanted.
"Since there's no way on God's green Earth I can convince you to use dirty tricks, I can at least show you how to counter them. Now…" I trailed off as I pulled a bag of dirt from storage and started pouring it all over the mat. I heard many protests and a few choice words that I ignored for the sake of my sanity.
"Can either Katase or Murayama join me on the mat? There is a method to my madness, I assure you," I told them; Katase was the unlucky volunteer. She stood in her normal kendo stance and I slid into a much more relaxed stance. We encircled each other before she made the first move.
I blocked easily enough, but that hadn't been my intention. I brought my leg up as if to perform a Fumikoshi, which made Katase bring up her guard. Her action made me grin as I brought my foot down onto the dirt-covered mat, hard, which caused a cloud of dirt to fly into the air in Katase's direction. The impromptu 'Sand Attack' got into Katase's eyes, which made her squeeze them shut to avoid the pain of dirt in her corneas. Despite being blind, the Kendoka tried to swipe at me with her wooden blade; a fool's mistake if I've ever seen one. Her wild slashes were telegraphed to the point where, even by putting myself at a human's level, I had no issue dodging the strikes. Then, Katase arrived at the point where she lunged forward with her sword, which had allowed me to spin around and lightly(as she wasn't wearing any protective gear) bonk her on the head with my own blade.
I went over to the nearby water fountain and dipped a towel into the water. I handed the cloth to Katase, so she could wipe the dirt out of her eyes.
"That's cheating!" She whined, while I laughed at the statement.
"Not in the upcoming tournament it isn't~" I was cheeky, yes, but I caught them all off guard with the implications of what could happen.
"Now can anyone tell me what she did wrong? Besides losing," several hands went up, I picked one at random.
"Well, she had her eyes closed, so she couldn't see." Jasmine, I think, explained to the club; I clapped lightly at her accuracy.
"Bingo! Dust like that doesn't tend to stay up for longer than a few seconds and, even if some is still up in the air, you should always open your eyes just the smallest bit. That way, you can at least tell what you're hitting. Now, I need another volunteer! Katase you can sit down, unless you wanna go again?"
She shook her head and sat down. This time a random girl in the club stood up. Observe told me that her name was Jackie.
'Huh, nice name,' unlike Katase, Jackie started attacking right away.
I had to hold down a grin, striking fast and hard is often a capable strategy. After some back and forth between the two of us, Jackie had managed to disarm me of my weapon. She let her guard down, making the mistake of thinking that I was down and out. In a flash of movement, I grabbed her own weapon and gripped it tightly. Jackie and I had a brief tug of war for the wooden sword, until I got her into the perfect position. When she made to tug once more, I let go and she fell on her ass. . . outside of the ring.
"And that is how you get a ring-out where I'm from." I told her; I helped the fallen Kendoka up onto her feet. Then, I gestured for the club to figure out a way Jackie could've walked away with a victory. That time, Katase had been the first hand up.
"She could've used your own strategy against you."
"Excellent! Now you guys are learning. Alright, time for the real fun to begin." I chuckled evilly; they all gulped in unison and began to sweat nervously.
'Good, they should be nervous!'
Three Days Later
Three days came and went far quicker than I would've thought. As I walked into the office to turn in some paperwork for the bus I couldn't help but chuckle at how fast they got tired. I worked them to the fucking bone, and the marrow I'd wager.
{I believe their exact words for your workout routine were 'fucking insanity.' Hilarious as always partner.} Bahamut congratulated me. I gave him a telepathic chuckle as I pulled out the bus number.
"All in a few days notice. But seriously, I haven't slept in three days!" I whined. So much damn paperwork caused a shit ton of all nighters! By the time I was done it had already been morning for god's sake! 'Ugh, coffee is my new comfort drink.'
Mental note aside I needed to find the bus, the tournament started in a few hours after all. I went down the large lot of buses until I had found our bus. . . that I was supposed to drive.
"It'll be a miracle if I don't crash this behemoth." I chuckled nervously as I entered the bus. It was a stereotypical type of bus, except instead of highschool it had Kuoh Academy in big bolded letters on it's side. I shrugged at that, though I noticed when getting in the bus that the driver seat was in the wrong place! 'Shit! Oh wait, this is how cars are made over here. Double shit!'
I sat down in the janky-ass bus seat and set it to reverse, I ran over the fence in the first five seconds; great start. I turned the bus to the road and the fence flew off. . . into a orphanage. . . that exploded.
'Look away, you got shit to do,' I told myself; the orphanage had been abandoned for a few weeks so no harm no foul!
That's what I told myself over and over, as I crashed into various obstacles, before the bus crawled to the front of the academy.
'This is the first time I'm driving a car, and it's a bus at that, so it should be very. . . interesting, regardless.
The Kendo club boarded the bus as soon as I opened the doors, they had looked a little jittery, but other than that, they looked confident. Katase and Murayama sat near the front of the bus with me, which only made things worse for my shaking hands.
'Breathe, it's like riding a bike; a big, metal, thirty-ton bike. . . Good lord, I am screwed.' I was always garbage at pep talks.
I took a calming breath and pulled out of the lot; I took it slow, at first, but eventually got up to the speed limit.
"Okay, maybe this won't be so bad," I murmured to myself. 'I don't think I've invoked Murphy's Law, so I should be fine. . . and I just remembered who my GM is. Triple Shit!
Three Hours Later
"Move your ass, lady! My grandmother drives faster than you!" I screamed out the bus window, amidst the hell that was rush hour traffic. I slumped back into my seat and mumbled some rather descriptive curses under my breath.
'Good God, this is ridiculous! We were making great time too! But, I just had to take the highway' It was fine for the first half-hour or so, but then we got caught up to traffic. Apparently, some idiot had the bright idea to bring his tanker onto the highway, said tanker only capable of going about ten miles an hour! So, we got stuck in the damn traffic for over two hours!
During this little altercation my inner new yorker had come out to play and good lord was he cranky.
"Move the fucking lead out of that rust bucket you call a car!"
"Oh you did not just honk at me, bitch!"
"I will fight you here and now, cocksucker!"
If I wasn't The Gamer I'm sure my throat would have been raw from all the screaming I did. It's also safe to say that I scared the living crap out of the Kendo club, guess they didn't expect someone who's normally so soft-spoken to snap so suddenly.
'Screw this!' I had had enough. I managed to turn the bus into a exit ramp, I waited until I was a good distance away from the highway and then. . .
"Angel Of Death" I whispered and my two sets of wings exploded out of my shoulders and out the windows. I could hear the kendo club's screams of surprise, so I did the sensible thing.
"I am a Reaper, a supernatural race of creatures that guide souls to the afterlife, and most likely the next Grim Reaper but that won't matter since you won't remember any of this." Blunt could be my middle name at this point. They demanded answers so I turned around, a rather hard thing to do with skeletal wings mind you, and smiled behind my mask.
"You all look rather tired, you could use some Sleep." The skill activated the second I created it and they fell back, asleep on the seats.
Sleep(Active) MP cost: 40 MP per creature Level: 2(50%): A Final Fantasy classic, it does as advertised. Puts any living beings under your level into a deep sleep, nothing short of a nuclear bomb will wake them up unless you want them to.
'God, I love this skill already.' I buckled the club up with my mind, before I focused on driving, although it had been more like flying at that point.
"According to the map, the tournament should be about. . . here." After I had brought the bus back onto the ground, I had dismissed my wings and parked the bus into an empty parking space.
The tournament seemed to be indoors, but from what I had read on the pamphlet(which I stole) they had an arena outside for the semi and final rounds. I pulled the pamphlet back out from my inventory and checked the time simultaneously.
'huh, we're ten minutes early. That's always good, it also gives them time to shake off the sleepies.' I broke the spell with a snap of my fingers, making them all wake up at the same time.
"What happened?" Katase yawned. I fed them a lie that they had fallen asleep during rush hour, they ate it up like cheap sushi.
'What are they most likely to believe? That their coach is a manifestation of death who has skeleton wings sprouting from his back or, are they going to think that they dreamt it all up? It's a no brainer!' I thought triumphantly for a moment, before I had to help the club unload their equipment.
The building looked much more impressive on the outside. Outwardly, it reminds me of an old roman colosseum; I could almost picture gladiatorial combat there instead of those ruins in Italy. Yet, when we entered, the illusion shattered spectacularly. Rows of dirty blue mats had been strewn across every corner of the dusty field. Filth-encrusted fold-up chairs were in the stands, where pristine, or at least clean, seats should have been.
Normally, when it comes to clutter couldn't give two shits whether it was clean or not. But, when its condensed in a small space(*cough* Office *cough*) or there's just so much filth in an area, it tends to make me want to take the nearest fire hydrant and hose everything down.
'Don't look at it Mores, just. . . don't look at it.' I told myself, referring to my new name instead of my old one. It still felt weird, but I thought I was getting used to it. I scanned the area for any other schools, there were supposed to be twenty or so other schools participating.
'Where-ah! There they are!'
The floodgates opened and several dozen students began to file in from the many entrances. About a third of the schools, including my own team, were girls; the others were either the exact opposite or mixed. I looked back and noticed the club looked even more jittery than before, which was confusing since don't they do this often?
"You guys have done tournaments like these before, right?" I asked the gathered Kendo club members, while fearing the answer. The two leaders of the club both nodded, the others, on the other hand, did not. I resisted the urge to facepalm and shook my head. "Well, it's too late now! If you're feeling nervous then try and calm yourself down. I find it best to imagine a calm scene in your head and lose yourself in it for a few moments. It works for me well enough."
[Omega Note: I would like to call bull on that, for multiple reasons. . . and it looks like the others agree]
They all gave me a deadpan look, which made me chuckle nervously. Then, Murayama and Katase tried it, followed by the rest of the Kendo club. I couldn't help the small amount of pride that I felt when they tried a technique that I honestly only used once or twice. By the time matches were about to start, they were much calmer.
{That worked?}
"Apparently so," I murmured aloud. 'Guess my advice is good for something, neat.'
I nearly pulled out a chair from my inventory to watch the show, but I couldn't let them know that magic really existed, so I wandered over to the coaches' seats and sat dow-
"Oh my god, they're so clean!" I blurted out; the other coaches laughed, but they didn't dissuade me from joining them, so I did.
I watched the Kendo tournament progress for what can only be described as both the most thrilling and boring experience in my lifetime. Thrilling, because whenever my team was on I had to suppress cheering them on like an over-excited parent to nearly biting my fingers because of how close things got. Boring whenever my team weren't on. So far none of the other teams tried anything, strangely enough. Maybe I misread the poster? No, no I didn't, maybe they're all just waiting until the next round?
Due to my thought process and tendency to sleep through things that bored me, the qualifiers ended and the semis were already well underway. I peeked at the leaderboards and every last one of my team made it; I could see the kendo club celebrating like they won already.
'Okay, now I know something's up.' I did the math in my head(thank god, for my high Int stat!) and the numbers weren't adding up. The odds of all of them making it through were less than seven-percent! I glanced at the other contenders and saw why, my team was the only one, not just untouched, but also the only one that wasn't made up of elites. Looking around made my hypothesis easy to confirm, especially with the greedy looks the refs had been giving the other coaches.
'They set up the matches purposely so that their best members got through to allow them to team up. Of the twenty teams, mine is the only one with more than five people left. Hell, all twenty of them made it through the fodder. The rest barely had one or two people left, given the math, my team will barely be able to rest after this,' I surmised. 'Only two people at any given moment will be free to rest between matches and I'm sure they'll fill up those two precious slots so none of my team can get a breath.'
My hands formed fists before I forced them to stay neutral in my lap. My fingers cracked at the effort and it was loud enough to alert the other coaches.
"You're a little young to have arthritis, aren't you?" One of the female coaches asked, disguising condescension as worry. I chuckled, it was fake of course, while I rubbed the back of my head.
"Well, I'm also too young for cancer, but I had that too; don't worry so much about me. Aren't you too old to coach such a club? It isn't a place for frail older women such as yourself." I said in a faux worried tone.
She was fuming furiously, which made me smirk victoriously behind my mask; I turned back to see Katase standing up to the mat.
Her opponent waddled to the mat. First thing I happened to notice was that this guy was seriously fat! Like 'Chinese phone books for a chin'-type fat. How the hell did he make it through the prelims? Bribery can only go far, although just because he's here means that he's either really good at Kendo or really good at cheating. So, with that logic. . .
'If I cheated, then that would be me saying that I don't think they can handle this.' I shook my head as the referee stated the almost non existent rules of the match for the hundredth time that day.
[POV shift Katase. First person pov]
'This is a Kendo tournament right? Not a fucking Sumo Wrestling match!' I fumed inside my mind. My opponent was, quite frankly, the fattest man I'd ever met. He was so fat that the mat was rippling from his weight.
"Are you. . . eating a bag of chips?!" He looked up from his jumbo bag.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you want some?" The faux-Sumo offered me the chip bag, but I rapidly declined.
"No I don't want any! We're supposed to be fighting for crying out loud!" I didn't think he could do anything dangerous to me, but then I remembered what Mores told us during his hellish training.
'Never underestimate an opponent, that's how they will defeat you. So, be wary of easy looking opponents, especially after the prelims. They're there for a reason so be wary of it.' His voice as tactical as it was serious. I took a breathe and went into my stance, the fatty just stood there, until he pulled out what amounted to a greatsword out of a bag the coaches brought. His stance looked like Cloud's from FF7, but without the serious expression.
"Now as said before, the first person to get pushed out of the ring looses. No other rules apply, fight!" The ref immediately jumped off the mat.
'That's understandable, I suppose.' I circled my opponent, trying to figure out someway to push him out. He watched me lazily, as if I couldn't do any damage to his ginormous body.
'Cocky bastard, he's not even blocking! Well, that can work to my advantage,' a plan was quickly thrown together in my mind, then executed soon after. I struck from the side, smashing my Shinai on top of his fathead. His body shuddered like jello, while continued my attack by attacking from the side. My sword kept striking from all angles, going faster and hitting harder than before. The fat-man stumbled a little to the left, each strike from my blade pushing him closer to my victory.
Suddenly, my instincts screamed at me to block; I raised my Shinai just in time to block his giant wooden blade, that was most definitely compensating for something. The blow itself knocked me off my feet and sent me backwards by a few feet as well. I gasped in pain, but quickly rolled out of the way when he swung his broadsword down to cave my face in.
All of a sudden, I was the one of the defensive. His strikes beforehand were meant to test my mettle, but now they hit with blinding accuracy. My arms still burned from his first strike and, as I continued to dodge, they burned even more as he set forth a hailstorm of attacks on my body. It felt like he was hitting me with a two. . . by. . . four.
'Oh, forgot, his Shinai is basically a fancy-looking 2x4.' My epiphany cost me a blow to my legs; I was sent into the air and landed painfully as my opponent prepared to finish me with a final swing of his weapon. I half-heartedly brought my weapon up to block the attack, but my Shinai instantly shattered upon contact with the Sumo's strike. I rolled towards the edge and shakily stood up. My chest hurt just by breathing, I couldn't see clearly for a moment until I shook my head. 'Good God, my everything hurts.'
'Well, I lose,' I lamented as the blubbery whale waddled over to push me out. There was no way I could win, not without my weapon.
'Who knew that the Great Katase was the first to give up in a near hopeless situation.' For some reason Mores' voice popped into my mind.
'I'm not giving up.'
'You may lie to yourself for as long as you want, but you can't lie to your coach.' That annoyingly-sarcastic tone echoed in my skull, maybe it was a concussion that was causing this but it was really starting to piss me off!
'I'm not giving up; I'm accepting reality.' I restated, the voice scoffed in my mind.
'A rose by any other name is merely a rose; you are giving up and in a painfully embarrassing way. Are you not the vice president of the Kendo club, or are you a defenseless. Little. Girl?' That scornful voice made me nearly hiss out my response.
'Well, what do you expect me to do!?'
'Simple, I want you to kick his fat ass. Look down.'
I did so and saw a piece of my Shinai lying on the floor. I pick it up, making sure to avoid the splinters whenever possible.
'Good, now do exactly as I say, think you can handle that girly?' I had really wanted to punch that bastard in his stupid face, but I nodded.
'First, drop to the ground.' I did as Mores' voice told me and, in the process, dodged the sharp swing of my opponent's stupidly huge weapon. 'Move behind him and when he turns smack him in his man boob.' I nearly turned green, but I followed orders and crawled under his titanic legs. I stood up and when the Sumo turned I did as I was told and smacked my opponent in the chest with my Shinai; the fat man gurgled and took a step back, nearing the edge.
'Do it again, then kick him in the dick.' I nearly complained about how wrong and illegal that was, but this tournament allowed me to do so. I smacked his chest again and brought my leg back and smashed my foot between his legs. My opponent crumpled to his knees near the edge of the mat, so with one last smack of my broken sword I managed to push him out.
I didn't even hear the ref say I won, I was too exhausted to care. I couldn't even move anymore, that is, until someone carried me over and placed me into a stretch chair.
"Nice job, way to turn a hopeless situation into a win." The same bastard that had wormed his way into our club told me. I wanted to retort, but with the danger out of the way I suddenly felt very sleepy.
"I wouldn't try to get up, you're out of the tournament. You're exhausted and have several bruised ribs." I didn't even try to argue with him, as I was in the throws of passing out, I felt Mores covering me with a blanket.
"Sleep well youngin'."
[Return POV]
The matches didn't get any better after Katase's, if anything, they got worse. Only Murayama was able to win a match after her partner, everyone else was knocked off the mat like flies. I was able to catch the ones that literally flew off the mat; I ended up having to to heal them on the spot in some cases, because their bones were broken. The only good thing that came from that endeavor was that I had been power-leveling Healing Hands, which at that point sat at a respectable level 20.
Soon it was just Murayama; alone against, at least, four enemies. I nearly bit my nails off, she had barely gotten any rest between matches. Whenever it wasn't her turn to fight, one of the other competitors would just forfeit, which would make her have to fight again. The Semi-Finales progressed how I had expected them to with opponent after opponent coming to try to take Murayama down.
The first match had Murayama barely beating a cheeky little shit who threw dirt in her eyes whenever he got the chance, unfortunately that was his undoing since it ended up clouding his own vision to much. Poor bastard didn't see the kendo stick in his nuts till he felt them in his mouth.
Like the last few rounds, one of the competitors forfeited , leaving Murayama's opponent walking up completely rested. The new guy looked like the equivalent of a goth Hot Topic shopper. He had more piercings than skin, black eyeliner was painted under his glazed blue eyes, a pitch-black mullet decorated his scalp, and there was a magic-circle tattooed onto his forehead.
'Jeez, and people call me an edgelord! I think I've found the perfect model for My Chemical Romance's newest singer!'
{Partner, focus for a second. Isn't that a sheath that human is holding?} Bahamut's question snapped me out of it and I managed to refocus on the edgelord, specifically what was on his hip. A simple onyx sheathe, normally I wouldn't be worried, but the fact that it had a handle coming out of it and I could see a glimpse of the metal underneath made me worry for my friend. My hands had started to crack again from my nerves.
'He wouldn't right? No, of course not. There are to many witnesses. . . ' My hopeful train of thought crashed and burned when I truly understood the gravity of the situation. We were surrounded by people who would use any dirty trick to win, murder still qualified as a dirty trick. I could assume all the refs had been bribed to look away, no matter the circumstances. The rest of the kendo club was asleep or barely awake themselves, I could also assume that I was alone in being able to discern 'murder' from an 'accidental tragedy'. I couldn't exactly. . .
'Hold on now. . . Oh, this could work quite well.'
I walked up to the ref and waved him down, dragging my chair over in the guise to get a better look.
"What are you doing here, Coach?" Murayama asked tiredly.
"Giving you a break, I'm subbing in for you."
Silence, dead silence. Just as I thought, nobody had expected it. It was a tradition that nobody, not even the other coaches, had thought about breaking.
'Except me~' I sing-songed mentally. Murayama just gaped at me like a fish, as did her opponent.
"It's not against the rules now is it~" I sing-song; the ref confirmed that it wasn't against the rules, because there were no rules! Murayama snapped out of her momentary stupor and she didn't look happy.
"I'm fine Mores, I don't need to-" She didn't get a chance to finish since I lightly tapped her with my sheathed weapon; she fell to the ground like a sack of flour. I sighed and pulled her back up. "You are far too exhausted to fight, I'm surprised you can even stand at this point." I helped her down and into the chair I'd dragged over. I patted Murayama's head, which nearly made her fall on her face.
"How about I handle this? I haven't fought all day and, honestly, it's driving me a little crazy." Now that got some chuckles out of her. The edgelord shrugged and said that he was fine with the change.
"Fine, but you better win now." I chuckled at the half-threat; half-encouragement. "I always do! Remember that you haven't beaten me yet!"
"That's because you cheat!"
"In my country it's not called cheating, it's called winning." Cheeky was my tone, as was my grin. She groaned and I turned back to the other guy. Edgelord's eyes narrowed into slits, which reminded me of Voldemort, considering how pale my opponent was. His stance turned far more lethal, mimicking the fighting style of a certain, bull-headed, White Fang leader. I got into my own stance of sorts; I may not know how to properly use a sword, but I must be doing something right if I'm still alive.
"As this is the final match of the tournament, you must fight until your opponent is unconscious. Hajime!" The instant that the ref signalled the beginning of the match, I heard the tell-tale click of a sword being unsheathed. In the next instant, my instincts were screaming at me to MOVE!
"Shit!" I dodged the blade by a hair's breadth. The edgelord actually showed some emotion as he swung his katana with a furious roar. I blocked the slash with my own blade, but I was immediately pushed back. Our interlocked blades gave me a chance to see what his katana actually looked like and, suffice to say, it was a horror show made out of metal. Black handle with bright orange highlights curling around the handle in a spiral. The blade was glowing with a unnatural red color that was also decorated in bright orange highlights; sharp teeth garnished the edge of the blade, making it look even more menacing.
'Holy shit!? What is this dude's level? Observe!'
Tristan Edwardson
Title: Reaper Hunter/Child Killer
Alignment: Lawful Good/Chaotic Evil
Level: 76
HP: 5000
MP: N/A
Affinities: N/A
Bio: Once a caring man, but due to circumstances in his past he now despises any and all Reapers. It doesn't matter what age or strength, he will attack to kill. During his hunts, Tristan has had plenty of experience of identifying hidden Reapers, so he knows your secret.
P.S. try not to lose your head, the kiddies are watching.
'Oh, this ain't good. Also, what's with the split alignment and title? This guy bipolar or something?'
{Dodge left!} I followed Bahamut's order and avoided getting cleaved in two. Tristan got his sword stuck in the ground, since his katana cut through both the mat and the ground beneath it. I jumped back into the fray and immediately went on the offensive. He tried to smack me aside, but my knee slamming into his gut stopped him cold. I brought up my sheath in a batting pose and slammed it into Tristan's head with all of my strength.
"Let's see you grit those teeth!" I roared at the edgelord as I smashed my sheath into his head again and again. 'God, I miss Gurren Lagann. . . and Kill la Kill too, now that I think about it.'
The kid just tanked them all without any visual reaction. Tristan thrust his blade forward, intent on impaling my chest.
But, enraged as he was, he was predictable, but predictable doesn't always mean easy to block.I had always managed to block just before the strike would make impact, but he just kept getting faster. At that point, guarding would just divert the blade into less vital areas, but they were no less painful. I gritted my teeth when his blade struck my shoulder, 'this would so much easier with magic, but I can't exactly do that now can I?!'
A quick strike to the knees threw Tristan off balance and my right hook propelled him off the mat.
'Normally, I would heal, but once again, can't do that. Too many eyes are watching.'
{Forward thrusts incoming!} Was all the warning I got before I had to twist my body without getting struck again. I riposted one of his attacks and straight-up spartan-kicked him away; Tristan hurtled towards the stadium walls and bounced off.
'Okay, no more mister nice guy.' I ran towards Edwardson, increasing my speed to inhuman levels to make it seem like I was disappearing and reappearing. His eyes seemed to struggle to keep up; when he pulled a guard up he looked surprised to see my boot instead of my sheath. I brought my foot down onto his head with as much force as I could without turning his brain to mush.
Tristan's teeth shattered as his jaws slammed against each other. The so-called 'Reaper Hunter' roared once more and swung his blade like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Each swing had been so painfully slow that I had stopped holding back as much as I had before. I've seen snails that moved faster than he did. My fists smashed into his stupid face over and over again; every futile block was pushed aside by a hand that wasn't punching his lights out.
An uppercut to the jaw sent into the air and a corkscrew punch to the stomach sent him spinning away. My speed allowed me to land punch after punch, even while he was still in the air! When Tristan landed, he looked like he was standing up based on pure willpower alone.
'This farce has gone on long enough.' My thoughts turned dark as my hand drifted towards the handle of my blade and the tell-tale click echoed through the air. The blade itself hadn't been anything special, a simple, steel katana, but it got the job done.
I entered a stance those of the DmC community knew very well and for the briefest of moments I held the smug grin of the aristocracy of the supernatural, before I forced it into a neutral stare. My hands became a blur of rapid slashes, cuts, and stabs. Tristan's edgelord-blade was eventually sent flying out of his grip, leaving him even more exposed to my attack.
My assault lasted only a few seconds, but it did its job. I flicked off what little blood had collected on my blade as I sheathed the weapon back into its scabbard. As I walked away, Tristan's clothes were shredded into tatters of cloth and thread; that greasy mullet he had been so proud of also fell victim to my slashes. Cuts littered the 'Reaper Hunter's entire body, spilling blood over what remained of his clothes.
To add to the overall effect of Tristan's smackdown, I cut small hourglasses into each of his eyelids. The amount of control it takes to cut through the skin and not the eye underneath is immense; I knew this, he knew this and it caused him to shake in fear.
"Stay down, or my hands may 'slip' next time." My voice was as dark as the subject matter. Tristan fell to the floor in a state of unconscious not a moment later. The referee declared me the victor, while I couldn't help but roll my eyes behind my mask. The trophy was automatically sent to my inventory and I closed the window with a twitch of the eye.
'But, I really need to focus on my non-magical fighting abilities. That guy was well below my level, but he managed to stick me in some places because I wasn't taking the match seriously.' These were my thoughts as I wandered back to my team, who were now all awake and staring at me with wide eyes.
"What? Do I have blood on my mask?" As legitimate as this question was it went completely ignored. Instead they chose to stare at me with eyes full of awe and respect, none more so then Murayama. The young Kendoka looked to be bursting from excitement; Katase shook her head, but I could see the smile underneath.
"How did you do that?!" Katase asked. I shrugged. "I practice a lot." And by practice I mean playing Devil may cry and spending hours trying to replicate it.
"Holy shit! I just, wow! You were just, holy shit! . . ." Murayama kept babbling on and on, not realizing that I couldn't understand every other word coming out of her mouth. I had long stopped paying attention at that point, so I just raised an eyebrow behind my mask to silently ask someone what the hell she meant. The silent question was heard by Katase, who coughed into her fist and silenced Murayama's excited babbles.
"What she means to say, is that you were awesome." I bowed dramatically, just like I used to after school plays. The others began to murmur among themselves, curiosity getting the better of me I listened in.
"Holy shit! Coach absolutely destroyed him!"
"Oh yeah, he did, he was brutal!"
"I could hear the bones breaking from over here."
"I have a tooth from the emo!"
And so on and so forth, they murmured how I wrecked his shit. I had wanted to bask in the glory a little while longer and made the mistake of listening to more of what they were saying. . .
"Why do you think he shredded his clothes?"
"Well, there is that rumor going around that he bats for the other team."
"So, the rumors involving the Knight using his greatsword-"
I immediately stopped that line of thought with a powerful clap of my hands; I even used magic to enhance the sound.
"How about we save the gossip tomorrow, unless you want to walk back home?" My voice was calm, but my message was very, very clear. The kendo club swiftly nodded and dragged themselves to the bus; the girls kept whispering as they straight-up sprinted to the bus.
I kept my glare on them until they disappeared past the door. I sighed and began to move out when I noticed Murayama was struggling to keep up.
"Need some help, Murayama?" I called back to the injured Kendoka; Murayama looked like she wanted to say no, but her shaking legs said otherwise. I grabbed the chair she had been sitting in first, then I grabbed Murayama's arm and slung it over my shoulder to help her walk.
"I can't believe I let myself get so tired I need help just to walk." Murayama whined, as a result I flicker her forehead.
"Everyone needs help sometimes, you worked your ass off by making your way through that tournament with barely any rest between matches, no less! How about you start being proud of yourself?" I lightly-scolded her; Murayama was silent as we walked to the bus. When I was about to throw her onto the seat in the back Murayama hugged me; I immediately went rigid out of shock, but forced myself to relax.
"Thanks Coa-no, thanks, Mores. You're a better man than I imagined." she sounded sincere, 'wait, what did she think I was like?'
{Well, you did come off kind of. . . strong when you first met} Bahamut reminded me.
'Huh, forgot about that. Man, I acted like a psychopath.'
"Damn, that's high praise from you Murayama." Katase and I said in unison; we all just stared at each other for a moment before we all burst out laughing.
'This really is an anime world, things like that would never have happened in my past life.' They stepped onto the bus as I stealthily slipped Murayama's chair into my inventory.
As I stepped onto the bus I heard the tell-tale sound of shattering glass that every Persona player loves. The star arcana hopped up two whole ranks, sorta like Bahamut's had. 'Ooh! I got a new goodie! Let's see it now!'
Congratulations! You have leveled up the Star Arcana!
Rank: 8/10
Effects: Kendo Meetings: Since you've befriended one of the leaders of the kendo club you are allowed into their meetings and sometimes their sparring matches. Chance of increasing Dex, Vit and Wis, but it requires two-four hours of free time.
One of us, One of us(!): Since you have helped them grow stronger the Kendo club and, by extension, the captains have made you their coach and confidant. This has many possibilities which means
showers, you lucky bastard! Unlocks access to the club showers; 60% chance of a orgy happening if you ask while in the showers.
Best Coach Ever(!): Your position as Coach has made the Kendo Club trust you more! The Kendo Club members are 50% more likely to ask for your help, personal or otherwise; when done successfully +10 to all stats.
'Oh, that's good.' I climbed back onto the bus, only to see everyone was asleep once again. I shook my head at their antics, but that didn't affect the smile covering my face. I fished around inside my inventory and made sure to give each girl their own blanket.
After I buckled each of them in, I started the engine and drove the bus out of the parking lot. I didn't plan on actually driving all the way back to Kuoh, but I couldn't let anyone see the bus take-off.
'No way in hell that I'm going through highway traffic again! Good lord, it was almost as bad as the traffic in NYC.'
I drove down an abandoned-looking road for about a mile, before I checked to see if there was anyone nearby at the time. There weren't any, so I brought out my wings and started the long flight back to the academy.
Flying all the way back like that let me practice using my wings; that and it power-leveled my Mana Channeling skill, which, at the time, sat at level 27.
'I should be pretty safe up here, time to use up some of those Skill Points!'
'Lets see, a few dozen here. . . maybe a couple there. . . one or two there won't hurt.' That had been my general thought process as I picked the skills to add points to. I had to mentally prepare myself for the avalanche of infoboxes, before I could confirm my choices. Nearly a dozen screens popped up in front of my eyes, but they only caused a minor-headache since I was ready for all of them, which I considered to be progress.
Reaper Art #31: Death's Grasp(Active) Level: MAX MP Cost: 400 Effects: telekinetic abilities, aka the 'Force'; does crushing damage to internal organs; damage varies based on density of organs(Created after a drunk telepath tried to strangle a Reaper many millennia ago. This art allows the Reapers who have trained extensively to become a Sith Lord, perhaps that's where this universe's George Lucas got the idea from?)
Blood-Scourge(Active) Level: MAX MP Cost: 500 Effect: Applies the 'Toxic' ailment to enemies; lasts 5 minutes; enemy must be bleeding for skill to activate.
Saint's Circle(Active) Level: MAX MP Cost: 20 Effect: Cure status ailments to self and others within a 5 foot radius.
Saint's Prayer(Passive) Level: MAX Effect: Raises all affinities by 5; passively increases Wisdom by 10(peace of mind, peace of spirit, peace of body)
Barrier of the Just(Active) Level: MAX MP Cost: 100 Effect: Creates a moderate-sized barrier to protect allies.
Reaper Art #32: Inner Balance(Passive) Level: Max Effect: +10 to Dex and Wis(A mid-tier skill that all aspiring Reapers learn. Mastering this shows true potential to take up the mantle of Death)
Reaper Art #33: Skeletal Hounds(Active) Level: MAX MP Cost: 300 Effect: Summons three skeletal hounds that can sniff out any enemies within a 40-mile radius(Even reapers need help hunting down their quarry)
Reaper Arts #34-50: Moshinju(Passive) Level: MAX Effect: +15 Dex and +40% mastery of Scythe-Type weapons(A mixture of pole and blade techniques designed to ensure maximum efficiency with scythes. Only those who have proven worthy are taught this sacred art, and they often are the ones picked to be the Grim Reaper and other high spots in the Reaper hierarchy)
'Now that was a very nice power up and I still have a lot of points to use. This is gonna be fun!'
By the time I had closed all the text boxes, the bus was above Kuoh. With it being dark out, parking while flying was made to be a very easy task. I landed the bus as if it were a cruise liner, when I was sure the tires were firmly on the ground I dismissed my wings. When I folded my wings back up into my back, they felt fairly stiff: I stood up straight and my entire body felt stiffer than a board. I stretched myself out until I felt the bones in my back crack into place.
'Good god, did that felt good!'
"Damn, it sure gets dark here fast; It's barely 8! Better wake up the sleeping beauties," I yawned as I talked to myself.
I began waking them up and one by one the girlies woke. Murayama had been the hardest to wake up, so Katase and I threw a bucket of water on her. I then spent the next five minutes running for my fucking life; Sirzechs ain't got shit on a pissed-off and sleep-deprived woman.
I waved goodbye as each of the girls either started walking home or they were picked up by a parent and driven home; besides myself, Katase and Murayama were the last ones to leave. I walked back home that night, going over the day in my head and smiling all the while.
"Today's been a good day, all things considering. I should probably check on my research room before I go to bed; wonder if they finally finished researching those Jaegers I commissioned ages ago."
[Pov Shift! Murayama First Person]
I drove Katase to her home. The ride was quiet the whole time…..not.
I was the one to drive Katase home, since our houses were somewhat close by. The ride was calm and peaceful from start to finish. . . if only.
"Hey, Mura, did you hear Coach in your head barking orders when you were on the mat?" I shrugged, I didn't think so. I may have, but I had been too exhausted to pay attention to my own thoughts, let alone any others.
"Why? Did you hear him in your head?" Katase nodded tiredly. When she spotted my confused look she attempted to explain, but it just came out as some incoherent babble. Then, a very amusing thought popped into my mind.
"You don't happen to have a crush on our dear Coach, would you, Katase?" My tone was teasing, as usual. Katase's eyes widened before she vehemently denied it; I laughed at my friend's reaction.
"Well, what about you?"
"What about me?"
"Do you like him?" My shock nearly caused me to swerve.
"No! Of course not! He's just a friend." I vehemently denied after righting the car. Katase merely raised her eyebrows, 'oh no, I know that look!'
"Really? Then why did you spend the night at his place? You don't do that with any of the other kendo club members and you certainly didn't do it with the last coach."
We both shivered at the mention of our last horrible couch. Good god, I really hated cleaning up after her. I swear I saw a fully used condom on the table once!
"Well, our last coach was a selfish bitch who couldn't keep it in her pants." I growled, the memories burned into my mind forever. I could never unsee what has been seen.
"Meh, that may be true, but that doesn't prove you don't like him." Katase teased. I sigh as I pull up by her house; Katase got out of the car, giggling all the while. She's got it in her head that I like Mores, which I clearly don't; just because he's the only guy I tolerate and cordial with doesn't prove jack shit!
"Hey, Mura! You ever gonna show me your home?" I shook my head in response to Katase's question, slightly annoyed from the use of that nickname.
"Not gonna happen, I like my privacy thank you very much~!" I sung as I pulled out of her house's driveway. She waved me to me as I did and I mirrored the action.
"That's the third time this month she's asked, one of these days she's gonna just follow me home." I murmured as I drove back, making sure to take some of the lesser used roads. I know none of my classmates are still up at this hour, let alone still driving, but my damn paranoia trumps common sense, I suppose. I pulled up into my driveway, the living room light is still on; dad must be home.
I open my car door and sigh at the sight of my sad little home; another broken window with an empty bottle in the yard.
'He must be drinking. . . again. Guess it was to much to hope he'd quit by now.' I thought as I threw away the bottle; the window can be fixed tomorrow, I suppose.
I started checking for more bottles as I entered the house. The opening hallway is clean for once; no lingering trash, but it still smells like piss, vodka, and regret. I entered the kitchen and plopped my bag onto the table, knocking over some more vodka bottles that had been stacked to my height; the pseudo pyramid collapsed onto my bag, thankfully, they were all empty.
I heard grumbling coming from my right and saw my father asleep on the recliner; the lamp beside him burning from when he came in and forgot to turn it off. I started to sneak past him when I saw a very disturbing article of clothing clutched in one of his hands; a pair of panties, my mother's, to be specific. I'd never met my mother, but my father told she had been the kindest person to exist and that I looked just like her.
"If she was so kind, why did she abandon us!' Bitter thoughts resurged again within my mind, I shook my head; she wasn't worth the energy to hate. I started tip-toeing up the stairs and, just as quietly, I opened my bedroom door; the sight that greeted me was horrifying in more than one way. My clothes were scattered across my floor to create a gigantic mess. That alone wouldn't be enough to cause the dread building within my chest, instead it was the underwear covered in a shiny, milky-white liquid that caused my horror.
Out of fear, I scrambled to my door and attempted to lock it; the lock hadn't worked once in my life and it certainly never stopped my father when he was in one of his moods. I calmed down just the littlest bit when I heard the click of the lock.
I picked up the soiled underwear on the ground and threw it into my closet, on top of a pile that I hadn't needed to add to in almost two years.
'He promised me that he wouldn't do this again! What if he-' I cut myself off, before such a thought could finish. 'No, he won't do it; he hasn't in almost two years. He got help, he's not a monster, not anymore.'
'Still. . .' My thoughts trailed off as I stripped out of my Kendo uniform and into a loose shirt and pants for the night. I crawled onto my rickety bed, the sheets still smelled like my father even after so long; I shuddered as I pulled my thorn-like covers over my body.
'Don't freak out. You're not weak anymore. I'm not weak. I'm not weak. . . I'm not. . . weak,' my thoughts turned hazy as my eyes misted over. 'I am weak, still just a weak, little girl. I can't even fight without my coach helping me!'
'Mores, he's my friend and a good coach, but he's not my therapist. I can't tell him for the same reasons why Katase can never know. This is my problem and I will handle it!'
As I began to drift off, I just barely heard the sound of my door jiggling awake.
Cliff hanger's are fun...when I'm the one controlling them. Either way, the next half of this chapter shall be coming much, much, much sooner then the last. See you soon.