Ugh. On the plus side, I cranked this out fast with no stress. Other side... good lord, I just wanna fight already. I wanna punch and kick and stuff!

The characters are doing stuff in the Castle. Enjoy.

As stars filled the sky, a beautiful contrast to the vast darkness, Castle Stronheim was abuzz with the laughter of friends and loved ones, the playful banter of rivals, and the unpleasant verbal shootout of those who didn't get along.

Regardless of what category befell them, Castle Stronheim was a sanctuary, free of the relentless paparazzi and lecherous fans. Under Krauser's hospitality, they were treated to a warm, calming environment to relax their bodies and minds, and properly prepare for the raging battle that would ensue come tomorrow.

These are their stories, as they enjoyed the final night of peacetime before all-out war.


"Cmon Krauser, just think about it for a second!" Mr. Big raised his voice, legs forced to scramble to keep up with the rapid footsteps of the lord of the castle. "You and me, ruling Southtown together! What better way to restore your honor?"

"Big... read my lips." Krauser spoke aloud, but didn't even look at him. "I. DON'T. CARE. ABOUT. SOUTHTOWN. ANYMORE."

Krauser started to quicken his footsteps; the relentless Big would not be left behind.

"B-but why not! Back in the day you came and took Southtown by force, remember? You stormed in, and kicked the shit out of Geese's old administration. He didn't know what hit him! Wasn't that a glorious time for you? Think about that feeling... about recapturing that! Southtown, all ours. With Geese outta the pictur-"

"If you think Geese's absence is supposed to be a selling point, that's where you're mistaken." Krauser retorted. "You just don't get it, Big. Without Geese... what's the point? There's no sport in it. What I did back then was about him, and HIM alone. I wanted Geese to curse me, to know that I was his superior, just like days' past. Without him to grovel at my feet, I can't be bothered to concern myself."

"But, what about all that bravado about restoring your honor?" Big argued.

Krauser dismissed that with a laugh. "Ha! Mark my words, Big... I WILL restore my honor. But I'll do it my own way, not humoring your basic, opportunistic goals. You're on your own. Now... leave me be. I must keep these hooligans in line."

With that, Krauser's footsteps increased once again. Big tried to pursue, but Krauser flicked his cape into Big's face, disorienting the bald guy just long enough to slow him down and finally escape his nagging.

With an angry growl, Big straightened his sunglasses. "FINE THEN! MORE FOR ME! YOU'RE ALL GONNA BE SORRY YOU MISSED OUT! AND BELIEVE ME, THERE'S NO TAKESIES-BACKSIES WITH MR. BIG!"

Krauser just shook his head with pity, as Big's bemoaning became a distant memory. With blunt force and authority, his meaty hand forced a large wooden door open, and he was greeted with the Dining Room: here, most of the 48 contestants were enjoying the banquet and drinks laid out by the gracious staff.

"Yes! YES!" Krauser bellowed with a smile at the sight before him. "Eat my food! Drink my booze! Take full advantage of my hospitality this night... because I promise you, I'll selfishly break your spirits come tomorrow!"

"...Cool with me." Terry casually stated. "Pass the wine."

"WOOOO!" Joe cheered obnoxiously loud. "I'M IN MY ELEMENT! JOE HAS FOUND HIS HAPPY PLACE!"

"You also found my EAR." Andy complained.

The fact that Krauser's greatest opponents didn't take his threat seriously spoke volumes to the level of pure mellow the castle was currently enjoying. Nobody wanted to think about violence. Nobody wanted things to get heated. They just wanted to get drunk and have fun.


Food was enjoyed.

"MRRPH! MMMPH! MMRRGH! GRRMGH! MMM! PASS THE BRATWURST!" Li Xiangfei mumbled between chews, her mouth stuffed so full of German sausage, it was a miracle the girl could utter a syllable. The Chinese girl was a medical marvel: how on earth could she be so little, yet have a bottomless abyss inside her?

...Right beside her, another anomaly was indulging in the large spread. Hinako Shijou, the part-Russian Japanese girl, was proving to be Xiangfei's equal in the gorging department... as well as not gaining a pound.

"Mmmph! Mmmph! Mmmrrrph! It's a pleasant change to be eating something other than chankonabe~" she mumbled with glee, her cheeks bulging with sauerkraut.

While the majority left the girls to their own devices, a curious Vanessa was sitting tableside for the show, and the mature boxer showed just what a practical and simple-minded woman she could be, by attempting to find logic in this insanity.

"Soooo... how the hell are you two doing that?" she asked between sips of her warm lager.

"Sumo wrestlers are trained to have a calorie intake of over 10 times the recommended daily limit." Hinako explained. "This is nothing for me."

"And I work in a restaurant, so food is basically my whole life." Xiangfei grinned wide as she spoke, a bit of sausage falling out of her mouth.

"...Right." Vanessa uttered flatly. "Welp, you gals have fun. I'm gonna keep being thin and beautiful, thank you."

While the exchange between the ladies couldn't be chalked up to pleasant, but was also not hostile... one particular woman could always be relied on to tip the scales. Usually in the wrong direction.

"EEEK!" Hinako squealed as a black-gloved hand seized her stomach without permission... and another hand started aggressively pounding her chest. A loud, brazen voice followed...

"Better hope it goes straight upstairs, and not to that belly! ¿Tu cavas?"

Hinako looked up to see the smirking face of Angel; recognizing this rude figure from tournaments' past, she angrily slapped her hand away. "How dare you! Sumo wrestlers should strive for big bellies!"

Angel rolled her eyes, a finger digging in her ear to further paint a crude picture. "Tsssh, in your little storybook fantasies. Any woman with a brain knows the real winners are the ones with sexy bodies and an attitude to boot. Like THIS~"

Hinako and Xiangfei looked with disgust as Angel seductively traced her curves, taking a moment to briefly, teasingly push her breasts together and further deepen the crevasse of cleavage in the middle.

"THESE are the breadwinners right here, chica. You stuff yourself with food, and yours are gonna be flopping like elephant ears. So I suggest you put down the forks... or go ahead and put a down payment on your electric scooters! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!"

Feeling she had adequately ruined the moment, Angel gently tapped the spectating Vanessa's cheek and strutted away, to go sit over where Ramon was chilling.

Vanessa looked over at them; they were no longer eating, instead looking down dejected at their plates, as the utensils gradually slipped from their grasps. The joy and passion in their eyes from a moment ago had flickered out, dampened by her rain on their parade.

Good at heart, Vanessa spoke up. "Don't let her get to you, okay? She's a graduate from the University of Bitch."

"With honors." Mary casually added from her spot a few chairs away.

"Sniff sniff... I don't need her telling me how to live my life." Hinako angrily sniffled. "I live for Sumo... it's my culture, my way of life. I believe in it."

"Then pick up that fork. " Vanessa winked.

"SHE'S RIGHT!" Xiangfei boomed. "Cmon, Hinako! Screw Angel! LET'S EAT TILL THEY FLOP!"

...And thus, Krauser's food supply was treated to a second assault, as Hinako and Xiangfei, utensils in hand, pushed out Angel's hurtful words and filled that space with delicious German cuisine.

"Shit, dude." Ralf joked to his partner beside him. "At this rate, we're gonna have to dig into our MRE's to fill them two up."

"Oh those'll back em up for weeks." Clark laughed.


Meanwhile, at the other tables, the wine was plentiful. Bottles passed around, glasses to the brim with sloshing crimson, the echos of clinks filling the room. It was a good time.

...But the main attraction was sitting in the middle. Many of them had actually stopped drinking, out of sheer disbelief, to gather around and see this spectacle with their own eyes. Some were playing along, others close to making bets she couldn't do it again.

These uneducated fools were unaware of what a true connoisseur she was.

"Pass me another one."

"A-are you sure, Kingy? You're looking a little tipsy."

"I'm fine. Gimme."

Yuri reluctantly reached for the ninth bottle, sliding it over to her past teammate and fellow pioneer King... who was wearing a pitch-black blindfold. That side of the room grew silent with suspense, as King picked it up, swirled the contents a few times, presented it to her lips, and sipped...

"...Chateau Cheval Blanc, 1920. Good year? I dunno. I wasn't born yet."

There was no tiny trickle of applause: it started off as a rushing wave of clapping hands and carried on for a good 20 seconds, as the non-believers were starting to believe, and the already-believers were just that much more impressed.

"No... f***ing way." Malin denied.

"King is the Booze Goddess, okay?" Yuri nudged her rival. "Best to just get on your knees and repent."

"Hey, don't nudge me!" Malin angrily shoved her away. "Grrr... I need some liquid courage just to be in the same room as you."

"B-but you're too young for-"

"F***. YOU."

King, still blindfolded, motioned to whoever flanked her left to bring another bottle. Mai obliged, presenting it to her. King took it, and the room grew quiet again as she sipped...

"...Saint Emilion Grand Cru, 190...5? No, 1904."

Another round of applause shook the dining hall. After perfectly nailing ten bottles... was there any doubt of King's legitimacy? There was no trick, no sleight of hand to possibly discredit the uncanny ability she was blessed with.

"You're amazing, King." Ryo praised.

"I guess I am pretty awesome." King boasted. "Boy, I'm feeling woozy now though... if i take this thing off, I wonder what my vision's gonna look like? You better take me out of here, Ryo."

"Hehe. Yes ma'am." Ryo grinned as he approached his companion, helped her to her feet... and she stumbled right into him.

"WOOO! Heheheheheheh... that's good shit~" King giggled wildly. It didn't help that she'd already tanked a few glasses before beginning her little wine-guessing exhibition.

"Please get her out of here, Ryo." Chizuru laughed. "Even for KING that's pushing it."

"I'll take care of her." Ryo smiled as he scooped King up bridal-style and carried her off.

"Brother Kensou, can we have some wine~?" Bao ever-innocently asked his older guardian, Momoko sharing the same pleading face.

"Wha- hell no!" Kensou shut them down. "Remember the last time you got into Chin's wine pot? NEVER AGAIN."


With the show over, people gradually dissipated back to their own business, leaving King's friends alone to resume the fun without their beloved bartender/bouncer.

"Hey Chiz." Yuri softly muttered to the woman beside her. "Is there any way you can, you know... cut Malin off?"

Chizuru had to look to see what Yuri was talking about: sure enough, the dagger-wielding girl was already red-faced, stumbling around, as wine sloshed out of the bottle she was shakily wielding and stained the floor. Judging from the quantity inside... it looked like only a few sips had set her off.

"...Well I COULD, Yuri, but that feels too much like being in charge, and I really don't wish to relive that." Chizuru awkwardly looked away as she spoke.

"Ah, Kasumi or somebody'll take care of her." Mai dismissed.

"Did Kasumi make it to the Castle?" Yuri asked.

"Dunno...haven't seen Eiji around either. Boy, no wonder Malin's in the bottle: neither of her friends are here for her."

"If you can even call them friends." Chizuru pointed out. "All they really share is a common motivation, stemming from vengeance."

"...You got that right." Yuri whispered, a sweatdrop forming. Malin was looking at her, attempting to do the whole 'I got my eyes on you' thing with her two fingers... but her fingers missed her face and instead grazed her ear.

"Malin aside... can I ask a question, Yuri?" Mai opened.

"Shoot."

"How is Robert's motivation? You know what I mean? Is he... happy to be here? Fired up?"

Yuri looked up, a pondering finger on her chin. "Hmmmmm... yeah, yeah, Robbie's fired up. He's always up to throw down. Why? Andy not so much?"

That prompted Mai to look down at her own feet with dismay. "Grrr... Andy's acting so weird lately. He hasn't talked at all about the tourney. Hasn't pondered his first opponent. He's acting like... like..."

"Like?"

"...Like a retired person."

"Ouch." Yuri clutched her chest at that one. "Andy's way too young for that. We're fighters. It's our whole life. That means its our duty to carry on as long as our bodies will take us, until we can no longer find the strength to throw a punch. If Andy cuts himself off at this age, he's gonna be really miserable."

Mai nodded. "Exactly. I need to find some way to get Andy hyped. Get him fired up. Get him excited. Get him like an ANIMAL. Hmmm... maybe I should pour a bottle of wine down his throat, crawl on him and f-"

"COUGH COUGH." Chizuru was not subtle in the least with that one.

"O-ohh... sorry Chiz."

Yuri, seeing potential for a joke, struck. "Hee hee... yeah, take it easy around Chizuru, okay Mai? She doesn't have a love life like we do."

The always-elegant, composed Chizuru was reduced to red cheeks. "Wha... I... THAT'S NOT TRUE! I do too get around! I... I..."

"We NEVER see you with a guy." Mai laughed. "Seriously, you must be locked up tight in those black leggings. Unless... maybe you're into something else~?"

"NO!" Chizuru squawked. "At least... I don't think I am..."

"I think Chiz likes older men." Yuri giggled. "I saw her sneaking out with Heidern last year, and then she kissed Geese at the party? Maybe you'd like a date with Papa-san! Hahahahahahaha!"

Chizuru was full on tomato. "Alright Y-Y-Y... Yuri! You're pushing it... agh..."

That last grunt wasn't in tune with the rest of her sentence. Neither was her sudden change: face twisting, hands reaching up to clutch her arms. Something had Chizuru rattled.

The other two noticed. "What's wrong, Chizuru?!"

"Cold." Chizuru growled. "It's those damn Hakkeshu... everytime they enter a room, I can sense their disgusting taint."

The girls looked around, searching for signs of the disturbance; they spotted him: angry face, white hair, ridiculous legs to compliment that exposed torso that looked like straight up rock. If one gave Yashiro a title, it would be the 'De Facto Leader' of the now-defunct Hakkeshu. At least, the world HOPES it's defunct.

"Kagura." Yashiro spoke her name formally, but with no pleasant tone as he approached.

"What do you want?" Chizuru's tone not hiding the fact she didn't want him in her presence.

Yashiro postured himself taller, to try and intimidate her, as he folded his arms. "Where is he? I know he's here."

Chizuru's lip curled. "How exactly do you know?"

"I can feel him."

Surprisingly... a smirk. "Well, your feeling-ometer is broken then, because Iori never left the city."

That caused Yashiro's face to twist. "Wha- it can't be!"

"Sorry. It be." Yuri stuck her tongue out as she taunted.

"OROCHI DAMMIT!" Yashiro cursed aloud as he abruptly turned around and started to stomp off.

"Dude!" Mai called out. "Why don't you eat some food or something? Enjoy yourself."

"...I CAN'T eat." that chilling comeback made Mai's stomach form an unsettling cramp. Her lips parted, like she wanted to respond... but words failed her.

Their conversation was brief. Yashiro was already yards away, having said his piece... but he did stop to turn around and deliver this final threat.

"Tell Iori he can't hide forever. I'm coming for him, tourney or not."

With that, the unpleasant aura chilling Chizuru's skin faded, and the woman was at last allowed to feel the warmth and comfort of her company again.

"Thank god..." Chizuru sighed. "I can't stand to be around them."


AFTER THE PARTY...

While the banquet made great strides in settling them down for the night, to relax and reflect on their upcoming trials... in this world of crazy fighters, simply getting to bed was just the other half of the story.

Ryo managed to get King there, at least. After her self-promoting performance in the dining hall, her head was on a turntable big time. Nothing felt better to her right now than the delightful combination: a soft bed to lay on, and the comforting embrace of her man's arms.

"Nghhhh... I must look like a wreck right now." King mumbled, borderline slurring as they lay.

"I think you look sexy." Ryo smiled.

King's drunken laugh was absolutely adorable. "Heheeheheheeee yeah? What does it for you: the bow tie or the suspenders?"

"Why, your beautifully masculine short hair of course."

"Oh really? I'd better make sure you're actually swinging my way."

They both broke out in cute, hushed giggles as King rolled over, draping across Ryo's waist, her face perfectly in range to close in on that exposed chest in his black gi. Ryo closed his eyes and relaxed into the sensation, the warm tickle of her lips trailing kisses up and down his pectoral.

"Mmm... that's nice." he sighed. "So, you think you're gonna win this one?"

"I'd like to." King made conversation between kisses. "I got a business to run, a little brother and cat to feed."

"2 and a half mil would certainly go a long way."

"Mmhmm. Or I could always just join back up with Big."

"GULGH- COUGH COUGH!" Ryo literally swallowed so hard, he choked on his own saliva. King knew the risks of that little joke; she was forcefully ejected from atop him in his jump of utter surprise.

"B-BIG?! So that's what he was on you about?!"

"Yup." King kept her cool and responded. "Relax Ryo, I was just kidding."

"Oh... r-right... good." Ryo sheepishly spoke those words, embarrassed that he momentarily broke his cool. With a small, awkward chuckle, he laid back down and King resumed her position atop him, head resting on chest.

"...So why don't you?"

"Eh?" King's turn to be surprised.

"Well I mean... hypothetically of course..." Ryo made sure to clarify. "He respects you now. He wouldn't treat you the way he used to, not after the way you showed him up. You could share the seat of power with him, lord over Southtown... all the wealth, for you and your bar, your brother..."

"And my cat."

"Heh, of course. So why don't you?"

"...Would you?" King countered.

"Of course not."

"Well, there ya go then. If I was Queen of the Southtown Underworld, and you didn't join me, that'd make us enemies. And then I'd have to beat you into submission. And make you my sex slave. With that little red thing in your mouth. We don't want that, do we~?"

"I... guess not. Haha." Ryo chuckled.

"Besides..." King cooed, leveling her face with his. "...I like what we're doing now much better."

They shared a smile of equal desire as their lips inched closer...

The door swung open, disrupting their romantic session to turn and look at the intruder. They were met with the eyes of a young girl, blue pigtails with pretty red ribbons... and her cheeks were starting to form a flush.

"O-oh! Gomennasai..." Hotaru bowed respectfully to them before fleeing the room, shutting the door.


Door Number 1 didn't work.

Ever-persistent in her endeavors, Hotaru Futaba silently skulked the hallways, her eyes closed, her hand out with a mystic demeanor about her, trying to truly discover if she had some form of sibling telepathy that would guide her to him.

"Hmmmm... this door... feels right." Hotaru whispered. With a deep breath, she turned the knob, cracked the door open...

Well, Gato wasn't here: it was his TEAMMATES. Bonne Jenet was sleeping peacefully (or passed out) on top of Tizoc, who was taking up the entirety of the bed.

"Darn... maybe this one?"

Hotaru closed the door and tried next. Third time HAD to be the charm...

Terry was sitting on the bed, his hands softly rubbing the bare back of a topless Blue Mary, who was laying prone with her eyes closed, blissfully sighing. Her larger-than-average breasts were bulging out, from where they lay smooshed against the mattress.

"Occupied." Mary called out. She didn't even open her eyes, or look in Hotaru's direction.

"G-GOMENNASAI!" Hotaru squeaked, shutting this door even quicker.

With a defeated sigh, Hotaru pressed herself against the wall and sank down... there was just no use. Checking the doors one at a time would only lead to mental scarring. The castle was too big... he could be anywhere!

As the girl wallowed in her hopeless situation, a cute pair of miniskirt-baring legs clad in light pink go-go boots approached. Hotaru didn't see her coming, and was only alerted by her voice.

"What's wrong, little cutie pie~?"

Hotaru picked her head up from where it sank to her knees, looking up at the figure: a face that bore the illusion of a warm smile, but seemed to err strangely into the territory of mischievous smirk. That's all Hotaru had to go on: her eyes couldn't be seen, thanks to the shroud of brown bangs.

The naturally-open Hotaru spoke to the stranger, a blush on her face. "I-I'm looking for someone..."

Shermie put her hands on her cheeks, enthralled by the cuteness of the girl. "Awwwwww, did you lose a little friend? It's okay, you can tell me~"

Hotaru fiddled with her fingers nervously. "Y-yes... my brother."

Shermie gasped. "Ah! You mean your big bro left a cute little cinnamon roll like you all by herself? The nerve of that guy! Well, you just tell Auntie Shermie what he looks like. I'll help you find your bro."

Hotaru showed hints of a smile. "R-really? You will?"

Shermie's smile grew wider. "Of course I will! I wouldn't feel comfy leaving you in this big castle without someone to watch over you. Give me the deets, s'il vous plaît."

"O-okay... well he's got broad shoulders, long brown hair... he wears yellow and he... ehh... he's a little... harsh.. in the face department."

Shermie nodded intently with every detail, a hand on her chin. "Hmm...hmm...hmm... well chérie, I'm afraid I haven't seen anyone like that around the Castle. Maybe he's still in town?"

She hung her head back down. "I see..."

"B-but that's okay!" Shermie tried to reassure. "I promise I'll keep an eye out for him, kay? In the meantime, I've got somewhere I need to be. Wanna stay with me?"

Hotaru politely waved her hand dismissively. "No no... it's okay. Thank you for your help, ma'am. I'll be fine on my own... as always..."

Shermie gave a little pout. "Awww... you sure? Well, I guess I'll head on then. Give me a call if you need anything, sweetie. Au revoir~!"

Feeling comforted by the woman's cheery attitude, Hotaru managed a smile as she bid Shermie farewell with a wave. Shermie flashed her a warm smile as well, giving a much cuter, more whimsical wave goodbye: wiggling her fingers with a giggle. She walked away, perhaps towards that business she'd spoke of.

"...You shouldn't be fooled by her."

Hotaru wasn't expecting company again so quickly, so she was startled by the young voice calling out, much similar to her own. She swung around and identified her: a girl around her age, with long strawberry-blonde hair, rouge eyes... even her earnest vibe was akin to the way Hotaru carried herself commonly.

"What do you mean? She seemed nice." Hotaru responded.

The girl approached, taking a few licks of the large, round, swirled lollipop in her grasp. "Don't be naive. Some people hide their intentions behind a pretty face. That woman... she's not right in the head. Be careful around her."

Hotaru looked away, hands on her cheeks. "O-ohh... I had no idea..."

The girl finally stopped in front of her, extending a greeting hand. "I'm Kula. What's your name?"

Deciding this girl was okay, Hotaru gave a traditional bow before extending her own hand to meet hers. "Hotaru Futaba."

"What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?" Kula asked.

"I...I'm looking for someone." Hotaru mumbled. "But he appears to not be here... so I have nobody. Sniff..."

"...You've lost somebody important to you." Kula spoke those words, as if she and Hotaru's minds were one.

The girl blushed deep. "Y-yes..."

"Trust me. I know what that's like. Too well."

"Y-you do...?"

Kula nodded. "Well Hotaru... would you like to spend time with me? I'm lonely too."

The invitation brought a smile back to Hotaru's face. "Y-yes. I'd like that. Thank you, Kula-san~"

In turn, Kula managed her own smile... perhaps the first time she'd smiled in a while. She took Hotaru's hand in her own, and the two girls ventured off into the Castle, to pursue whatever adventure was fitting of their newfound friendship.


Shermie skipped playfully down the hallway, humming a made-up tune, seeming to have not a concern. She certainly didn't look like she belied other intentions, like Kula claimed. Those bangs hid plenty... but the rest of her looked absolutely approachable. Not to mention insatiably desirable, from her legs to her hips to that extraordinary bust.

"Humm hummm hummmm... la de daaaaa... I wonder if her brother is a looker? Tee hee hee~"

Brushing aside her whimsical, meandering thoughts, Shermie finally got down to business. She DID have someplace to be, after all.

"Where you been? We've been waiting on you." Yashiro reprimanded her upon her arrival at her destination: the entrance to a closed door, where he and Chris were standing before.

Shermie gave a childlike pout, bottom lip puffed out. "I was just having fun."

"This is important, Shermie." Chris backed. "Now that the three of us are here..."

The trio stared at the door. What lurked behind it? It must have been something pretty scary, or at least abnormal by THEIR standards, to stop them in their tracks.

"Well? What we waiting for?" Yashiro urged.

"I'm not going in there first." Shermie put her hands up reluctantly.

"We go in together." Chris said calmly.

"I don't know what you two are afraid of. " Yashiro scoffed. "Let's just go in and talk to the whackjob."

"Then YOU open the door." Shermie pointed with a curled finger.

A roll of his eyes. "Fine."

Steeling himself, Yashiro opened the door, inviting them into a thick smokescreen, obscuring most of the room with its unpleasant odor and haze.

"Ugh, that's lovely. Smells like fresh bread and roses." Shermie waved a hand in her face to ward off the fumes.

"Will you relax? Your lungs aren't getting cancer anytime soon." Chris jabbed.

The trio navigated their way through the hazardous smog, feeling around so they could get a bearing on what direction they were moving. Finally, they saw a beacon: a fireplace, roaring with a warm glow. Obviously they were in some kind of sitting room, or lounge.

"Well well well. Look what the psych wards dragged in." a voice in the smoke made itself heard.

Yashiro lowered his eyes when he heard it. "That's the hypocritical statement of the century!"

"Hehehehehehehehehe!" the man cackled as he tossed a spent cigarette butt into the bucket by his rocking chair: the thing looked like it hadn't been changed in days! Surely one man didn't...?

"Can we fumigate this place or something?" Shermie whined. "I can't hold a conversation with the room smelling like... like... old people at a picnic table!"

"We'll keep this brief. Then we'll be on our way." Yashiro silenced her. He turned back to the figure, who had yet to turn their head or show an ounce of acknowledgement of them.

"So speak." the man demanded. He lit another cigarette.

"You keep popping those things, you're gonna end up like us, Ryuji." Chris grinned.

Yashiro spoke up. "You know why we're here, freako. You know what's going down."

"Do I?" Yamazaki called out. "Maybe you should remind me. If for no other reason than for me to laugh about it."

"This is no laughing matter!" Yashiro growled. "This has the potential to be something big. Far bigger than your twisted mind could grasp. Now, are you gonna help us this time, or abandon us like usual, you traitorous rat?"

"Y-Yash, it might not be wise to-" Chris whispered.

"Quiet, Chris. I got this."

Yamazaki, still not turning his head, flicked another cigarette down. Finally, he crumpled the empty box and threw it into the fire.

"Ooooh hoo hoo hoo. Powerful words there, buddy." he spoke. "You guys should know better than to bother me with this cultist nonsense. I got better things to do."

Yashiro could feel his anger growing. Calm words were failing... and he was just pissed enough to start taking it up a notch.

"Ryuji..." he growled. "We've given you a break for a very long time. We NEED you this time, more than ever. And maybe I'm not going to take no for an answer."

...Yamazaki didn't like that one at all.

SSSSCCCCCCRRRRRAAAAAAAAAPPPPPEEEEEEEEEEE!

Shermie and Chris nearly lost their skin when they heard the scraping of his rocking chair, grinding against the floor, as he forcefully rotated, until his visibly unhappy face met theirs.

"Was that a threat, Yash?" he warned. "You're treading daaaaaaaaangerous territory here. There's a reason why Goenitz left well enough alone with me. He didn't have the balls to try it. Or maybe he just had enough brains to know what was good for him."

Shermie and Chris didn't dare utter a peep; Yashiro seemed to be the only one willing to stand his ground against the likes of the psychopath who'd excommunicated himself from their ranks. The white-haired man only grinned, relishing in the tension of the confrontation.

"Well, maybe he'd feel differently today."

Yamazaki was back to smiles. "Yeah? You gonna ask him?"

"...You can ask him yourself if you help us. We're bringing him back."

For the first time in this talk, Yamazaki showed actual surprise: his eyebrows raising, the smile fading from his face. His arms folded to join his draped leg; he was certainly interested now.

"Bringing back the G Man, eh?" Yamazaki echoed. "Sure you want that?"

"We're gonna need him for what comes next." Yashiro kept that same diabolical grin. "Ryuji, I'm going to make the easiest sales pitch I can: this world is going to change. DRASTICALLY. And we, who live to serve the higher power, have been chosen to inherit the Earth. If you want a slice of that, I suggest you wise up and get those gears in your head rolling properly."

"So what are you phantoms gonna do anyway?" Yamazaki inquired, his face showing he was at least still invested in the pitch.

"What else?" Yashiro replied. "We fill their hearts with woe. Make them hate us. And then... we crush our opponents. And when Orochi's followers stand tall at the apex of the tournament, their spirits will break. They'll recognize the One True God, and, then... we beckon our mortal forms back to us. Our power will increase tenfold. Bringing back Goenitz will be just the beginning of what we can accomplish!"

"Power is sexy, babe." Shermie purred. "Can't have enough of it."

"We don't wish harm upon you, Ryuji." Chris finally chimed in, with a more passive voice of reason. "We still recognize you as one of us, even though you were absent in our time of need. Just help us this one time, and the world is ours. Good deal?"

"So what's your answer?" Yashiro urged. "Mature and Vice are already onboard. The only one we still need to pull this off is YOU."

SCRAAAPE! SCCCCRAAAAAPE!

His rocking chair scooted back around, once again filling their ears with the dreadful grind. It took only a second, before their ears were spared, and Yamazaki was back to his original position: turned completely away from them, where it was impossible for them to read him.

"I'll see if I can squeeze it in my busy schedule. Now get lost."

The answer wasn't one they wanted to hear, but at least two of them took it for what it's worth. Yashiro, the cheekiest of the bunch, opened his mouth in disapproval.

"Really? You're gonna blue ball us like this?"

Yamazaki had no verbal response. He merely waved his hand in a repelling motion, shooing them away like houseflies.

"Let's go, guys. That's the best we'll get out of him." Chris motioned towards the door, his preservation instincts running the strongest. Thankfully, Yashiro took the hint; the trio finally exited the room, but not before Yashiro shot a mean glance at the back of Yamazaki's head.

The door closed.

...And then the door swung back open.

"RYUJI! Glad I caught you!"

Yamazaki's solitude was disrupted a second later, an annoyed curse leaking from his pressed lips, too quiet for anyone to hear.

Mr. Big was far less fearful in approaching Yamazaki than the Hakkeshu trio. He had no hesitation in parking himself in the chair adjacent to Yamazaki's, and the bald guy immediately started flapping his gums:

"Alright, listen! I know a guy in Nicaragua, he can get us a good deal on coke. We push it out, make a profit, start arming our guys, pay off the PD... this can work, RyujI! We can rule Southtown, just the two of us!"

"...I'm listening." Yamazaki at least didn't shut Big down immediately.

Big enthusiastically gesticulated with his cigar. "I have some friends in the audience, they'll get the betting action going. And you and I together have a good chance of winning the 2.5 million prize, so that'll help us out a SHIT TON. After that, we just need to build a proper gang. We need security. Manpower. Tough fighters. A strong presentation."

"Who we got?" Yamazaki shrugged.

"Myself and you. My old boys are a phone call away. I tried to get King on, but she's not biting. Ah well, we don't need her. Listen, I have some NEW ideas for potential recruits... I'm looking at Geese's old flunkies."

"Tubby and Baldy?"

"Yeah. Without Geese here and with them being tortured by Captain Justice, they'll be easy to convert to our cause. And while we're at it... how about those two ex-cons?"

"Other Tubby and Shorty?"

"Yup. Once a con, always a con, I say. Hopefully their old blood still runs deep. Trust me, I know these kinda guys... and that part of you doesn't go away. Ever."

"Fine."

"So? We on?"

...A wide, tooth-baring, skin-stretching grin spread across Yamazaki's cheeks.

"...I'll see if I can squeeze it in my busy schedule."


Kensou knew finding a bathroom in this Castle would be a feat in patience and endurance. Thus, he was clenched to his utter limits as he traversed hall after hall, corridor after corridor, desperate to locate that sweet porcelain throne to relieve himself of the earlier banquet.

He rounded a corner: dammit, more doors. Now he was getting discouraged. Would Krauser be mad if he...?

"Sh-shit...!' Kensou whispered aloud as he heard a door FLING open forcefully, followed by a voice so loud, it sent vibrations through the carpet.

"GET OUT OF MY STUDY! PHILANDERERS!"

Kensou took cover just in time to see two figures come SOARING past him.

"S-sorry! Not~!"

Kensou watched them as they ran away: it was Mai and Andy, albeit with much less clothing than normal. Andy was in just white boxers, whereas Mai had completely shed her ninja garb and managed to grab it and press it against her bare chest before Krauser chased them out. Kensou couldn't restrain himself from watching her run away from behind: her red thong-clad ass was bouncing up and down with her fast sprinting.

Kensou peeked back around the corner: there stood an annoyed Krauser, scooping up Andy's clothes in a pile and throwing them aside. He was also flanked by two other figures: the ones in charge of this year's contest.

"Bats in your belfry, Lord Krauser?" Rose teased, a childish snicker leaking out after.

"Enough, Rose." Adelheid shushed her. "The whole Castle seems to have gone quiet for the night, Milord. Perhaps now is a good time to discuss business."

Krauser nodded. "Indeed. There's still the matter of the favor you owe me. Please come in."

"Favor...?" Kensou whispered to himself. As soon as the door shut, his curiosity got the best of him. The restroom could wait.

Kensou crept up to the wood, pressing his ear against it, hoping it was hollow or transparent enough that he could capture the voices on the other side...

"Now then, have you determined the matchups for the first round, Miss Bernstein?"

"Yes, Milord. I used a combination of random selection, personal preference, and... female intuition~"

"I see. Well then, my request is THIS: I want HER in Round 1."

Kensou gasped; he quickly slammed a hand against his mouth afterwards, hoping it didn't penetrate the wood.

"Ahhh yes, I figured as such. Your ruthlessness is admirable, Lord Krauser~"

"You must be referring to the... odd outcome of your bout from last year."

"Right you are, boy. That wench CHEATED, I know it! She stained me! Honor demands that I defeat her justly, and restore the right that has been wronged!"

"Hmmmm... well I can definitely manage that, Milord. I'll have to switch a few names around, but rest assured, you WILL get your fight with Miss Asamiya. I promise you."

"You have my gratitude, Miss Bernstein."

"Shit! He's going after Athena... I have to warn her!" Kensou fretted. "I have to... I have to..."

"She has to figure this out on her own, my boy. It's a test of character."

Kensou closed his eyes, remembering Chin's words from yesterday afternoon. He didn't want Kensou to interfere... but how could he sit by and do nothing? Krauser wasn't just going to beat her: he was going to PUNISH her. What kind of partner... no... what kind of FRIEND would he be to let something like that happen to Athena, even if it was just a competition?

"Master Chin..." Kensou softly muttered. "Forgive me. But I can't just do nothing..."

Kensou was wise to keep his ear there, as more words followed:

"Lord Krauser, is our business concluded? I'd like to take a walk to your castle rooftop for some fresh air. To meditate on my battle tomorrow. Do I have your leave?"

"Yes, yes. Feel free to explore. Just be careful up there, it's very high."

"Thank you."

That was Kensou's cue to GTFO. Clenching and waddling, he tore out of there as fast as possible, to continue his pursuit of a toilet... not only to relieve himself, but because he had a lot to sit and think about now.

And with that, Castle Stronheim had officially gone dark.


This chapter felt really good to me. It's not perfect, of course, because I had to squeeze in a whole lot, and even THEN some characters have really gotten the short end. But, I did the best I could. It may not be 80, but it's still 48 characters getting juggled for pete's sake.

NEXT CHAPTER: The Twilight Tournament is underway! 48 contestants will be whittled down to 24 in this pulse-pounding opening round!

But first... time for some bonus scenes.


BONUS SCENE 1

Iori finally folded; it was too damn hot in this room.

With an angry grunt, he kicked the bedsheets free and slid off his side, springing to his feet, ignoring how much commotion he caused. He looked back at the bed: Mature and Vice were still snuggled against each other, fast asleep. They didn't notice the sheets had been messed with; their slumber was too deep to be affected by the draft kissing their bare skin.

Iori ran a hand through his damp hair and exited the room, not caring he was shirtless and only wearing black PJs, hanging loose on his waist as a result of the fastening strings being unsecured.

The hotel was nice and calm, since not many fighters stayed in town. Perfect for a walk. Perfect for reflection. Who was he? Why was he here? What's the meaning of life? Bah... did it even matter. It was another year... he was just a crooked, chewed up cog in this long-turning maelstrom. What was there to expect from this year, anyway? Shady plots, meaningless rivalries that carry onto the next year and start all over again... and that football stadium was done for. Their impressive little outer ring was gonna go out like a knife in bubble wrap.

On top of everything... at least he always had Kyo. When everything else was unbearable, threatening a desire to rip out his brain and tenderize it with a meat cuber... there was always Kyo. But this year, he didn't even have THAT much. His only paradigm, the only flimsy, brittle thread that kept his demented mind stimulated was chilling in Japan, probably ready to wake up in the morning, grab a cold one, and plop his ass on the couch with the tv remote. And he would laugh... laugh at their struggles. Laugh at the inevitable chaos that would come with it. He was free from it all... so why the hell was Iori here?


Athena felt weird being alone. Not that she sleeps in the same bed as Kensou or anybody else, but... just knowing they were far away, and she had voluntarily removed herself from them, had her feeling weird about herself. She finally crawled out of bed, adjusting her light pink tanktop, tugging at her skivvies, making herself as comfortable and non-chafed as possible for what would inevitably be a stroll through the hotel. Too much on her mind to sleep tonight.

She ran a hand through her sweaty purple hair and made her way to the door... and thankfully realized she hadn't put on any shorts yet.

"Oops. Better put on some shorts."

The hotel was nice and calm, since not many fighters stayed in town. Perfect for a walk. Perfect for reflection. Who was she? Why was she here? What's the meaning of life?

She didn't need money. There was no evil to eradicate. Was there any bad blood with Ash? Nah... she didn't even think about him. No, the only answer that came to mind was...

Krauser.

She could still feel it, crawling on her skin... unyielding, tormenting, virulent, like a parasite. She was scared to death. But her fear still didn't outweigh her guilt: THAT'S what hurt the most. Athena tried to love everybody. She always believed in the golden rule, so the thought that someone (besides Mignon) held genuine ire towards her, much less wished VENGEANCE on her, felt like a scar on everything she strove to be.

If Athena Asamiya were perfect, everybody would be her friend. The world would never quarrel. Everyone would put down the guns and point cell phones at each other instead, to take selfies and capture beloved memories with one another.

Delusional? Probably.

Athena felt the air shift; she faced forward and noticed another figure coming straight at her. Iori...? Good lord, his pants were sagging. He really should tie those strings. Seeing Iori's boxers hanging out suddenly made her all self-conscious: were her shorts low? She looked down: thank god. No cotton showing.

The two kept walking forward until there was no more free space between them. Now halted, unable to progress further, they just stood there... and stared.

Iori stared at her.

Athena stared at him.

"...Will you move?"


BONUS SCENE 2

Despite the high altitude, the night air was calming for Adelheid Bernstein.

The young man stood boldly on the rampart, looking up at the sky, his eyes closed, as he breathed... breathed... breathed in his turmoil. Breathed in his limitations. Breathed in human weaknesses.

To be champion, he had to have none. His father would have opposed God himself, were his plans challenged; Adelheid strove to become everything that man was... but he also knew he had to be MORE. For even Rugal had weaknesses: his avarice, disregard for life, violent bloodlust. These things were naught but poison to pure veins, feculent, decaying waste, able to turn a healthy, brimming heart to a moldering, corroded pulp.

Adelheid knew he could be the ultimate fighter, because he was more than Rugal. He was everything HE was, but without those weaknesses to hinder him. His blood ran strong. His heart impervious. His body and soul consonant, a perdurable harmony.

His eyes popped open. He sensed... intruder!

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!

Adelheid leaped aside, just in time to catch the explosive shockwave of a powerful combustive force, which struck the rampart he once stood on, demolishing the tooth-like stone structures to smoldering nubs.

"Not bad. If you couldn't dodge that one, I'd have walked away for good."

Adleheid bared teeth as he stood up straight, dusting himself off, eyes capturing the surprise attacker.

When he saw him, his heart skipped.

"Y-you..."

Brown hair, short, just like his son's... but his face bore a neatly-groomed counterpart, to show his age and maturity. He bore familiar colors: baggy pants, olive in shade, coupled with a more forest-darkened, long-sleeved top. A stylish pair of beads around his neck.

If it wasn't obvious where this man hailed, where his place was... one only need look at the symbols on his red combat gloves. On his shoulders. On his back. Everybody knew what that crest signified.

"Kusanagi... Saisyu." Adelheid uttered his name backwards, as per common Japanese tradition.

Despite the heavy air of this tense encounter... Saisyu flashed an uncharacteristically goofy grin, showing his well-tended white teeth. He reached into his top, fingers slipping past the bit of exposed chest, and he produced an entry card, which he began waving tauntingly back and forth.

"I hope you didn't think I was going to miss this show." Saisyu boasted.

Adelheid's eyes narrowed. "I see you're healthy this year. Good. I take it your son is caught up...?

Saisyu shook his head. "He'd rather watch it at home. Said he didn't want to deal with the craziness this year. He and his girlfriend have the house to themselves, so I figured I'd throw my metaphorical hat into the ring. I am feeling good this year."

Adelheid turned towards the dying remnants of the burning wreckage. "And is this an attempt to intimidate me? You'll have to do better."

...The grin faded from Saisyu's face. "No. It's just a taste of what's coming. Hmh... you know, you look so much like him. When I look at you, it's like I'm right back in that bastard's..."

Adelheid took an angry step forward; he knew exactly what the elder Kusanagi was referring to. And they both knew full well what a touchy subject that was.

"Don't you dare mention him...!"

Saisyu, deciding his actions had spoken loud enough, turned his back to Adelheid to signify no violence. His words, however, would attack full-on.

"Mark my words, Young Bernstein... I haven't forgotten, and I'm not even CLOSE to forgiving. It's your burden to bear now. It's a part of you. So blame him. Curse his name with all your breath. Nothing is going to save you from the wrath of the Kusanagi... and I assure you, it will be a terrible wrath."

Saisyu ignited a flame in his grasp one last time, a lasting impression, a message of what Adelheid had in store for him in this competition. Once he felt the young man had an adequate look... he closed his fist, snuffing the flame out, before finally walking away.

Adelheid's fists clenched tight, his whole body along with it. Was he afraid? Vengeful? No... he was beyond such emotions. The only emotion befitting of him was remorse. Remorse, and grief... for the man who spawned him.

His eyes closed, Adelheid looked back to the sky and uttered these somber words:

"The sins of our fathers..."