CHAPTER FIVE: WINES AND RITUALS
❝The future depends on what we do in the present.❞
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"Blizzard... Spark..."
Those words again.
The intensely painful feeling returned to her head.
"Rush... Thirty... Dawn... Tranquility... Five..."
As she heard those words, the strength in her body disappeared, leaving her helpless.
"Nexus... Eleven... Speed Boat..."
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Honoka jolted awake in a cold sweat as if electricity was inserted down the length of her spine, her breathing labored in her chest.
The sweet smell of the air freshener filled her nostrils, giving her a delightful way to wake up from her nap.
"Miss, are you alright?" asked a concerned voice.
Taking in her surroundings, Honoka realized that she was in the backseat of a taxi and had dozed off on her way to the hotel complex only meant for fighters participating in the tournament. Her head was leaned into the glass window for use as a temporary pillow to assist her with sleeping. Once again, her appearance was disheveled, but not as bad as it was back at school. Her hair was a bit tousled, while some of her drool was stuck to her face.
"U-Uh, yeah, I am." she laughed sheepishly as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "I guess I've just been so excited about the tournament that I barely slept a wink last night."
The driver chuckled in response. "I don't blame you. If I were in your shoes, I'd be excited too. The world's greatest fighters are gonna be gathered there, after all."
"No kidding! I can't wait." Honoka exclaimed. "Oooh, I bet I'll end up meeting the luchadores King II or even the awesome Heihachi Mishima." she gushed, clasping her hands together.
The man looked in the rearview mirror at Honoka with interest. "Heihachi Mishima, huh? You a fan?"
Honoka gave a nod. "Mmhm. Always have been from a kid," she confirmed. "I mean, I know Bass and Tina Armstrong are my favorite fighters along with Kasumi, but Heihachi most definitely takes the cake as the best fighter."
"Hmm, you don't look like someone who keeps up with the news very often."
"Hmm? What makes you say that?" Honoka questioned innocently, tilting her head to the side.
"You haven't heard?" She shook her head in response to his question. A sigh left his lips at having to break the news to the young girl. A naive one, she is. "Heihachi Mishima is dead."
As those words left his mouth, she felt her beating heart drop to her stomach. Her hopes and dreams of possibly getting to meet him deflated like a balloon. A large part of Honoka didn't want to believe her idol was deceased, considering that this information only came from one person. Still, since he said something about it being on the news, Honoka knew she had to believe him. From her perspective, nothing good came out of the news. Something terrible always happens; it was part of the reason why she hated the news and would avoid ever looking at them. And THIS was one of them.
"Oh... I see." was all she could say. Honoka's eyes cast down to her hands and she stayed silent for the rest of the car ride to think to herself.
'Heihachi Mishima? Dead? That can't be true, right?' she inwardly said to herself. 'Please, tell me this is a terrible hoax or a stunt?'
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Honoka eased her things on the floor, panting. "That should be the last of them...geez, they're so heavy."
Catching her breath, she admired the hotel room they assigned her to. Since this hotel was only available to fighters entering the tournament, this was the only place she could live for a while. "Wow...It's so pretty." Honoka thought for sure they must have put her in the wrong room.
The bed was made of redwood, dressed in pink and white sheets, with a table next to it with welcoming flowers and a walk-in closet. To the right was another door. She made her way to the mysterious door and pushed it open to find a bathtub built right into the floor and a sink made of what she thought was gold or pretty close with sparkling white facecloths. Taking in her surroundings in awe, Honoka let out a squeal. "This is so cool! If grandma were here with me, she'd have a blast being in this room." Honoka's mind retraced back to her beloved grandmother as she said this. Before the incident ever happened, the two of them were inseparable and practically traveled places together. Just being in a different place without her felt uncomfortable for Honoka.
Her mind focused on her grandmother until a knocking sound was heard at the door.
"Come in," she responded.
When the door opened, she was met with the sight of an attractive asian woman dressed in the uniform provided by the Mishima Zaibatsu.
"Miss Kimura, is it?"
"U-Um, yes!" she answered, her voice stammering a little. "That's me."
"Your presence is required at the introductory banquet of the King of Iron First tournament. Formal dress is required."
'A-Ah! The pre-tournament entry event!' she stammered inwardly, covering her mouth in shock. 'I forgot that every tournament holds one. I came here this far, and I can't afford to miss it.' she panicked.
"Alright, I'll be right down."
Honoka watched the woman nod and leave the room before quickly undressing out of her casual clothing. She rummaged around in her luggage for something nice and sophisticated to wear to the banquet held at the Mishima Zaibatsu. When it came to dressing formally, Honoka's choice of clothing wouldn't be what many would call sophisticated. Come to think of it, she had thoroughly forgotten to pack something nice to wear for these kinds of events. To make matters much worse, the only thing she managed to pack was her strapless and puffy light blue dress.
The thought of herself as the only one wearing a very frilly dress to a grand and formal event made Honoka cringe inwardly. She could just imagine the fighters that were going to be there giving her a lot of strange stares because of her choice of outfit. Not only that, but her reputation would also probably damper further than it already was.
Honoka gulped as she pulled out the dress. A person would look at what she's wearing and blatantly refer to it as a prom dress. Of course, it wasn't anything formal, but at least it was still something conservative enough for her to wear to the event. Deciding not to fret over it further, she got dressed in the blue dress with a pair of blue strapped heels. She carefully slipped on a black glove on her right hand that sported a logo of a winking skull and crossbones on the back.
Running a brush through her salmon pink hair, Honoka carefully placed a headband with a blue flower on her head and wrapped a blue choker around her neck to go with it.
Before she decided to leave the hotel room, Honoka spun around in the mirror a few times, examining her appearance. "Oooh... it looks so pretty. I hope I don't look too overdressed."
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An audible gasp left Honoka's throat as she sat in the backseat of a cab, gazing through the window in wonder. Like a little child, her hands were glued to the glass as she watched many places and buildings pass by in her sights. Neon lights and color video billboards shined brightly through the dark night, lightening up the city like one huge Christmas tree. Growing up with a huge imagination, the vivid brightness was enough to make her think she was in an awesome cyberpunk universe. "So pretty," she murmured.
The curious girl wondered why she never took the time to explore her hometown of Tokyo. Naturally, as a teenage girl, she was too wrapped up in attending school every single day and since her grandmother was strict about her completing her education, she didn't have the chance to do so.
Additionally, she had her precious grandmother to worry about rather than going out with friends or going on little adventures through the cities. At any time when her grandmother would head out to run errands or take a small shopping trip, Honoka would tag along out of concern for her health. While Honoka wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, she was smart enough to teach herself not to let her guard down for a moment. Honoka never trusted her grandmother going out alone with no one else with her. Her health was not in the best condition and if something were to happen while she wasn't with her, Honoka wouldn't know what to do.
"Wow...I've never seen so many lights. I don't think anyone can remember how to get home in a big town. I wish Grammy were here to see this."
As the cab halted, Honoka paid the fare and exited the vehicle. The young girl stared up at the colossal building. "So...is this where the tournament is being held? Geez...it's so enormous. It must have taken a lot of time for whoever built it."
Leaving her thoughts to herself, Honoka walked across the expansive courtyard of the Mishima Zaibatsu and headed towards the large hall where she heard the sounds of classical music playing.
Getting to the open main doors, Honoka entered the building and took in her surroundings. The hall was decorated in lights to show off the wealth and glamour the Zaibatsu held in its grasp. The appearance and the lavishing interior made her anticipate the large feast awaiting her stomach.
Honoka didn't care much for dancing and social gatherings. However, she always wanted to meet a few of her favorite fighters who repeatedly took part in the KOIF tournament. Although she was disappointed at the news of Heihachi's death, she wasn't going to let it stop her from entering the tournament.
As expected, there were a lot of fighters from around the globe attending the banquet. With this many people around her, she felt utterly lost and undersized by their large heights and bulky bodies. Slowly walking around the hall, Honoka tried to avoid carelessly colliding with individuals that almost filled the place with much effort.
Honoka took time to explore the place. Of course, the room they were all standing in was relatively wide, large, and well proportioned. Two long-length tables on either side of the room contained trays of sustenance. Honoka couldn't help but gawk at the table full of food, her mouth nearly watering. As if fate itself understood her actions, a horrendous growl was heard from her abdomen to alert her of the need for food. Putting a hand to her stomach, Honoka let out a nervous chuckle.
"Weeell, speak of the devil..."
Walking towards the closest table, Honoka took her time scanning the food dishes that positioned themselves on the spread. "They all look so yummy! Oh! I just don't know where to start." A sigh escaped her lips, taking in the sweet aroma of the food. Not wanting to start the night on an empty stomach, the salmon-haired girl started contemplating her choice of food.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to the greatest competition on Earth, The King of Iron Fist Tournament 5." Sounded a voice over a radio system. "The most ferocious competitors from across the world..."
Despite how thunderous and precise the voice sounded, it fell dead on ears for Honoka nonetheless, for she was too busy gorging herself with food.
'There's so many people. They must be here for the tournament, too.' Of course, Honoka knew it didn't take a genius to understand the obvious. Her thoughts then drifted to the night she was nearly sexually assaulted.
Flashback
"T-The hell?! Just what the hell are you?!" he shuddered, trying to hurry away from her. Honoka examined her hand with both bewilderment and fear.
"W-What's going on? My fist is burning!" she shivered while examining her hand that continued to release a red energy. "What's happening to me? S-So...it is real?"
End Flashback
"It's real." she concluded, her red orbs becoming serious. There's no mistake. Honoka wasn't just having weird nightmares like she thought. If she was being honest, her dreams didn't feel like regular dreams. Regular dreams that people could wake up from daily and go about their ordinary lives.
They felt evocative and futuristic at the same time. Sometimes, she would wake up from a dream mysteriously from the past and a dream seemingly in the future. A licensed doctor would tell her that it's normal for people to have these kinds of visions while sleeping, but it wouldn't be enough to put her at ease. Before placing her grandmother in the hospital, Honoka used to enjoy going to sleep at night to have dreams, whether they were normal or weird in a way. Some dreams were supposed to express happier feelings, sometimes intensely, with as much emotional clarity and vividness as any nightmare.
However, for Honoka, they felt like endless nightmares one after another, every day. Her dreams turned out to be part of her reality, which terrified her. The dream about her hand turned out to be real. After all, she also had to wonder if all of her other dreams would soon become part of her reality.
A shoulder then collided with hers, breaking through her train of thought. "~Heeey! Watch it.~" slurred a feminine voice. Honoka followed the voice to find an alluring young woman behind her. Her skin was beautifully fair, a beauty mark spotted near her right eye. A single red strand was buried in her green hair, bringing out her natural pale green eyes. A tint of pink was plastered on the cheeks of her face. She wore a deep blue strapless dress with matching arm gloves.
For a strange reason, Honoka felt like she recognized the woman from somewhere, but she couldn't figure it out. After taking a minute or two of examining her, the realization hit her hard like a solid rock.
"'Scuse me? You wouldn't happen to be...Tamaki?" Honoka questioned, curiously tilting her head.
She became even more uncomfortable when the green-haired woman merely narrowed her eyes at her through her drunken sight. "Yeeeah. That right." answered the green-haired beauty. "And just *hiccup* who are you?"
"It is you," Honoka confirmed, becoming a little excited about getting to meet a fellow fighter on the first night. "I knew I recognized you from somewhere. It's so nice to meet you! My name's Honoka. You were in the preliminaries for the last DEAD OR ALIVE tournament, right?"
The woman, now known as Tamaki, folded her arms and shot her a skeptical gaze through her drunken expression. "Y-Yessh. Care to explain how-"
"I was there too!" beamed the jubilant high school girl. "If you don't mind, I'd really like to train with you."
Right now, it was for the best. Honoka was already labeled a joke amongst the fighting community, so the last thing she needed was to make an enemy on the first night of the tournament.
Tamaki's eyes scanned Honoka leisurely through her intoxicated, yet sobered sight. Judging by her bubbly and childlike demeanor, it was very apparent to her that she was indeed a very young high school girl. But what really caught the drunken woman's eye was the girl's large bust nearly popping out of her dress. Although her baby face features were an immediate dead giveaway to the fact that she was a young girl, she couldn't help but notice she possessed a well-developed body of a mature woman.
"~Well, with a body certainly like yours, the steaks of you winning this tournament could be fairly high,~ " she said with a smirk, eying mainly her large breasts. "However, I suppose anything could be a weapon if you use it right."
Unfortunately, what Tamaki said would go entirely over Honoka's head, for she only gave her a perplexed stare. "Hmm?" she hummed, not understanding what she meant by it. "What do you mean?"
Tamaki raised an eyebrow in disbelief at her reaction. Typically, many girls would've been flushed with embarrassment over a sexual comment made about their bodies, but this girl reacted the complete opposite. "Seriousshly? Don't tell me you entered this tournament without some sort of strategy prepared," she said incredulously.
Honoka blinked in confusion for a couple of seconds before she perked up in realization. "O-Oh yeah, I do! My strategy is to make sure I train hard to win this tournament and get the prize money. I've got it all figured out." she proudly declared with sheer confidence.
Tamaki shook her head and chuckled at the girl's naivety. "~Honoka, darling. I fear to tell you that isn't exactly what I mean," she said with an amused smile. She then took a step closer to the young girl, closing whatever space there was between them. With unease, Honoka nearly recoiled from the woman's hand reaching out to her face, but chose to remain still. A soft gasp left her lips as Tamaki's slender fingers came in contact with her chin. Like a cat, Honoka found herself nearly leaning into her touch and rubbing her cheek against the palm of her hand. Her skin was soft and smooth like a baby's. She was so drowned in her thoughts that she barely noticed Tamaki tilting her head upwards to meet her face, their eyes boring into one another. "For starters, you have everything a man would want in a woman." she purred lowly, pulling her curvy body to her.
Honoka felt the heat rising through her face at her breasts touching Tamaki's. "M-Miss Tamaki...people are staring..." she stuttered, glancing at the participants from the corner of her eye.
"Such a pretty face," Tamaki murmured, her face inching towards Honoka's. The drunken woman's warm breath ghosted over her lips, the sweet scent of white wine filling her nostrils. "Perfect pouty and pink lips." she added, lightly gliding her finger along the dazed teen's lips.
"M-Miss Tamaki, you're...you're too-" Honoka's words abruptly came to a halt and then turned into a surprised cry at the sudden feeling of her derrière being grabbed and squeezed. "W-Wha-What are you doing?!"
"~Firm~." she purred again, giving her backside a tight squeeze.
A whistle was then heard, breaking their...conversation. "Whew! When did things start heatin' up in here?"
"AHEM!" A deep yet calming voice made itself heard, taking the attention away from the spicy treat for the eyes many had just witnessed. A man in his mid-forties with a cold, calculating look. One could tell he is American by the American flag pin on his butler suit. He had a tattoo on his neck that was halfway visible with a man about to throw a sword like a javelin. His grey hair came not from age but the stress that he endured in his line of work, or used to, before he retired and got hired by Mishima zaibatsu as head of security and the Tekken force.
"Hello, my name is Simon Wellston. I am your host for tonight's banquet and the 5th King Of Iron Fist tournament. I hope you will enjoy tonight's pleasantries. Also, Miss Aoki will please stop fondling Miss Kimura," Simon announced to the crowd while bringing attention back to Honoka and Tamaki.
"~Aww but it's so much fun messing with her~," says Tamaki, still fondling Honoka.
Most of the people at the banquet took their attention off the two but the rest who were taking in every second didn't dare miss a single moment.
"~See, if I lightly pinch here, you'll hear something amazing~," said Tamaki with a smile.
Tamaki lightly pinched Honoka's nipples and she let out a moan that would snap a lesser-minded person's sense of reason. However, Simon did not take kindly to Tamaki, disregarding him and continuing with her antics when he politely asked to stop. So like any host of the King Of Iron Fist, he walked towards Tamaki. He didn't say a word or show any hostile intentions.
As soon as he got in arm's length to Tamaki, Simon's first thrusts toward Tamaki's face. Despite how little time to react, Tamaki dodged with a hair's breadth of the distance between the two. Despite clearly not being sober, Tamaki can fight the best of them. A seductive smile appeared on her face while she stared into the cold eyes of Simon.
"~My my... It isn't brutish of someone of your stature to hit a lady?~" says Tamaki
"If I really wanted to strike you. We wouldn't be having this conversation," replied Simon.
"~Oh?~..." says Tamaki as she giggles a little.
"What's funny?" asked Simon.
"~Nothing... I like it when they play rough a little~" replied Tamaki.
The tension between the two people is so thick you can cut the air between them. Tamaki just sighed and sat down while muttering.
"~He just had to ruin my fun~..."
Simon turned to Honoka, who was a blushing mess. Simon moved his gaze to the poor girl. Honoka felt his gaze and stepped back a bit. Somewhat intimidated by Simon's presence, she bowed.
"I'm so sorry! I-I didn't mean for that to happen," Honoka says to Simon.
"Raise your head girl." replied Simon.
Raising her head, she again came into direct eye contact with Simon, who hadn't changed his facial expression since he first introduced himself.
"It's understandable of someone of your nature to fall prey for Miss Aoki's antics. May you enjoy the rest of your night Miss Kimura..."
With that said, Simon nodded his head toward Honoka and went along his merry way, conversing with the other guests at the banquet. An hour passed by, and many fighters and other invited guests conversed with each other. Some just showed plain hostility to each other, while others seemed chummy.
Honoka was too tangled in her thoughts that she barely heard a brash male voice calling out to her, trying to grab her attention.
"Yo, funbags!" loudly sounded a voice, bringing her back to reality. Turning her head in the direction of the voice, Honoka spotted a young man with a rather irritable yet bored expression. He was dressed in a black blazer, an unbuttoned leopard shirt underneath, and black trousers. His fiery red hair was slicked back, making her characterize him as one of those street punks she had a run-in with that night. Honoka shifted uncomfortably as his brown orbs roamed and explored her body, her bountiful breasts inevitably coming in his view. "Nice rack. Got plenty of milk stacked somewhere in there or somethin'?"
"Milk?" questioned a completely dumbfounded Honoka, innocently tilting her head to the side. "U-Um...no. I don't think I packed any to bring with me," she said, shaking her head. This earned a few chuckles from participants of the tournament. Poor girl was cartoonishly oblivious to the fact that the guy was hitting on her. Her lack of awareness of situations would easily put a target on her back for fighters who wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of that. "I can go look for a vending machine if you're thirsty." she offered, turning to walk away.
"That ain't what he meant." deadpanned a brash and tomboyish female voice. Honoka barely noticed a girl walking up beside her. She noticed that she was of Japanese descent with short street-styled hair and chocolate orbs. She wore a lacy-edged pink tank top under a vibrant yellow, fuzzy sleeveless tunic with orange "v"-shaped stripes with a red tartan short skirt over bright nylon orange stockings and black knee-high, shiny pointy-toed boots. "He's talkin' about your boobs, dummy."
Honoka's eyebrows furrowed, her pupils adverting from the girl to her enormous breasts. "M-My boobs? What about them?" she asked, touching them a bit.
The Japanese-Osaka girl shook her head with an exasperated sigh. "Are you dense? This knobhead's trying to make a pass at you by making pervy comments toward your boobs."
"Tch." shrugged the orange-haired fighter, crossing his arms as he threw a glare at the brown-haired girl. "Takes one to know one." He then turned his attention onto a bewildered Honoka. "And you...what're doing here, huh?" he interrogated, drawing closer to her. "There's gotta be some weird mix-up in you being here 'cause there's no way you got your invited to the King of Iron Fist tournament." he doubted, eying her suspiciously.
"Uh...I...um. It's for-" Honoka paused, desperately searching for another answer to give him other than the one she already had. To her surprise, she had entirely forgotten why she was here in the first place. Obviously, her grandmother was the reason why she was standing amongst other fighters right now. However, she had an unknown feeling that she was her for another reason. But she had difficulty figuring out what it was. "I-It's personal."
From afar, a sultry and curvy assassin was staring at Honoka, chatting with the taekwondo fighter she recognized from the third tournament and an unfamiliar-looking girl. She had eyes as if she had just found her long-lost toy. Who else could it be but Anna Williams?
The Irish brunette had eyes on the young fighter ever since she walked in. Tamaki, who she had a bit of fun with from time to time in the past, made a move on Honoka before she did, but Anna would have taken the more subtle approach. Not the full-blow sexual harassment Tamaki gave Honoka, or could it even be called that since the bubble-headed girl had not once complained during the entire altercation?
As there was all the time left in the world, Anna decided waiting a day before the start of the tournament would be perfect to approach her target before anyone else she knew would.
Her red-coated lips slowly stretched into a smile. "This should be interesting..."
TO BE CONTINUED
Full credit goes to my boyfriend for helping me write out this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it :)