Note: My first Ultimate Muscle fic. Blah. I'm using the dub names. Spellings are subject to whatever I feel like. I don't think it matters just yet, though. Ultimate Muscle (or Kinnikuman II, if you will) hasn't quite reached enough people yet.
Disclaimer: Kinnikuman II is the property of Yudetamago/Toei/Shueisha/4Kids Productions.
Wrestling Makes You Free
By Son Rhandi
Meat explained it to him, Blocken's, Jr.'s tragic wrestling history. In his yesteryears, in a match against Ramen Man, a concrete ring was used instead of a spring one… Brain damage ended his career as a wrestler. Only through years of rehabilitation could he once again regain some shards of his life. He knelt there, that broken Blocken, his brow beaded about with sweat, his voice left hoarse from his horrified screams. That boy, Jaeger, was right at his side, wondering how it was that his master, his mentor, could be reduced to such a state.
"I don't suppose…" The older man managed a smile, a sad--no, defeated grin to mask the depths of his sadness. "It would be too much of you to hold me?"
The question shook that Germanic man, leaving his feel awkward, hesitant. He looked into his coach's eyes, shimmering in their own saline solution, and felt his heart sink. Jaeger scooped his mentor in his arms and sat him on his lap, not caring that Kid Muscle or his less elevated manager looked upon them. It was unbelievable to the green-clad lad that this man, the man who had taken him in as his son, who had pushed him to go above and beyond his limits… was now shaking in his arms…
Iscarat, thought Jaeger. This is your doing. You knew well, didn't you..? You and your cement ring… The notion stirred in his mind bitterly. But then, he, too, had a hand in Blocken's mental anguish. It was he who had agreed to the 'ring enhancement', so eloquently put by the rooster-looking fellow. He had made light of his warm words with ailing Hydrozoa, as well…
Jaeger cast his sights downward to his Herr Blocken, the brim of his hat--always kept so nice and clean--shielding his face and head resting comfortably on his protégé's right shoulder. He sighed a little sigh, that young man, unable to shake the hurt from his mentor's eyes, a look--he was sure-- he'd given Blocken countless times when they first began, during his rocky period. You're too strong for this, Herr Blocken… He tightened his embrace. Much too strong…
What he felt that while ago, when Mantaro achieved Ultimate Muscle, when the crowd cheered for Kid Muscle, as he pulled himself from Hydrozoa's insides, was it awe? Enthrallment? Whatever title one could slap on it, it was clear that support from one's friends could turn the tide. He shouted his comrade's name with all the energy he could muster, all the respect and support he could give… No use, in the end, but Hydrozoa thanked him, anyway.
Upward and outward, next, to the rooster, Iscarat, a man whose name matched too well Iscariot, he who betrayed a sort of holy man, as far as he knew. A trickster from the start, Iscara had shed the threads of a gangster from three score prior, only to fledge as a red bird of prey. Jaeger felt his sadness burn to a smoldering anger, anger for the integrity of the Muscle League, anger for Hydrozoa, and for Blocken, Jr. … His Herr Blocken…
This was it: the match that decided who would take on Kid Muscle--Mantaro Kinnikuman--for the position of this Earth Team. Win or lose, he'd be free…
He would always be free.