In the Hands of Young Chôjin

By Son Rhandi

Chapter 02: "Red-Letter Wrestlers"

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"B*A… B*A… What could that stand for?"

Back at IWF headquarters, Terry poked at the offender fist, studying each crook and crevasse like it was evidence at a crime scene. What was it, he wondered, that made Checkmate take off so suddenly? The spray-painted letters, what did they mean, and why was this fist aimed at them? He thought back to when this sort of thing had been sent to--or through, rather--Sunshine, a calling card of the dMp. But this… Wouldn't the dMp brandish their logo on it if it was indeed theirs?

Seiuchin and Gazelle Man, meanwhile, stood at the doorway watching their comrade's investigation from a respectable distance. "Terry's been going over that thing for almost two hours…" The walrus breathed. "What does he expect to find?"

"I don't know. It's strange..." Gazelle Man flicked a piece of lint from his ear. "When we were still playing, I heard a gun go off. A harpoon gun, to be specific."

"Harpoon..?"

"Mm-hmm. It sounded far behind me. Since it hit the ball before its descent--roughly 30 feet in the air--it would have to have come from the rooftop of a nearby building."

"That's possible. We were playing on an open field and in full view."

"…All these weird incidents happening to us all the time…" The crimson stag put his hands behind his head, sighing. "I'm beginning to wish I'd chosen an uneventful life back home… Where's Mantaro?"

"Probably off eating or something. I'll go find him." Seiuchin started his way, but halted his tracks upon seeing a figure walk through the double doors of the IWF's entrance. His face faulted a bit in seeing it was Checkmate. Shrugging, the pinniped raised a hand in greeting to the approaching Check. His button eyes widened as he watched the chess set wrestler stagger, quick to bear his weight on the adjacent wall.

"Gazelle! Terry!" Seiuchin called to his teammates. Checkmate's face was completely black, his arms and clothing mottled with soot. Even the ends of his cape were singed… The Texan and Tanzanian came running to meet with the walrus, taken aback at the sight of the blackened king.

"Checkmate!" Gazelle Man shouted. "Are you all right? What happened?"

"Sunshine is dead."

The others stood there gaping. Had they heard right? Sunshine was dead? They had no time to contemplate. Check dropped to his knees, falling forward. Terry caught him before the rest of him could touch the floor. "Check? Checkmate?!" No response. "He's fainted…" Terry slung the chess master's limp body over his shoulder. "Let's get him down to the medic, pronto."

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"Sir! We've carried out our mission without a hitch!"

"Sunshine was nothing!" Hoffman barked. "Why, we took him out in 10 minutes, tops!"

"Ten? I thought three of you could finish in less than half that time."

"Don't get us wrong, sir." Rhodes spoke, his feathers ruffled a bit. "Though an old man, he was a Legend. We had to make sure he was dead. We even torched the place to finish up."

The head man allowed himself a sidelong smile. "That's why you're the Animal All-Stars. I'm glad I could count on you all."

They all bowed to him. "Are there any further orders, sir?"

"Here." The boss figure tossed Hoffman a small stack of tickets. "I'd like for you all to introduce yourselves to those Muscle Leaguers of the Japan guard. Give them those, but don't fight them. Leave them to Team Aquatics."

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"Hmm. He's suffering from a bit of respiratory irritation. His case isn't too bad, but I'll keep him on some oxygen until his breathing becomes better. It seems to me he's more overwhelmed than anything. What happened?"

Terry shrugged. "We don't know. He just came in like that. Then he passed out."

"Well, I'll keep an eye on him. I'll send a runner when he's okay to leave."

"Thank you , doctor."

Checkmate's return came sooner than expected, but none of them thought it would be under that sort of circumstance. What had happened to him, that chess set wrestler, to bring him back sooty and fainting?

Terry crossed his arms and breathed a heavy sigh. "This has to do with that fist. I'm sure of it."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, now," Mantaro reminded them all, having joined them upon hearing the news. "This could all be some crazy coincidence… Right?"

"I doubt it. First, Check takes off as soon as he sees that spear fist and when he comes back, he looks like he just came out of a burning building and goes on to say that Sunshine's dead?" The Texan tugged at his suspenders, a thoughtful look spread 'cross his face. "This is hardly a coincidence, 'Taro."

"That arm wasn't like the last one we saw. It was yellow, like Sunshine's…." Seiuchin observed. "You don't think…..?"

"No way. Who would be so horrible?"

"Who else but the dMp?"

"I don't think so." Gazelle Man leaned against the wall. "Sunshine blew up their entire base, so I don't think the survivors would come after him. Wouldn't put it past 'em, though… We can ask Checkmate more about it when he gets out. Right now, we should probably tell Meat about all this."

Indeed. They'd have to do some waiting if they wanted some answers. Check sat their in the hospital bed, taking in rapid breaths of the 8th element, his grimy body dirtying the white sheets. He kept a pained look on his face throughout, though not due to physical hurt, for it was something he would never feel. Rather, this was a bout of emotional discomfort, to put it lightly. He couldn't get it out of his mind's eye, the

petrified expression of his master, Sunshine, his body a sickeningly overdone red and charred black instead of a healthy goldenrod. He specifically told him not too be gone too long. Why did this..?

Checkmate buried his face in his hands. It no longer mattered to him that he'd been used for Sunshine's gain, nor did any of their past transgressions matter. The man who raised him was gone…

And he was alone….

The chess set wrestler ripped the oxygen mask from his face and threw the sheets from his legs. He took a swift kick to the tank, putting a large dent in it and causing it to fall to the floor with a metallic 'clank'. He paced, that Checkmate, around the room, his face straight, his jaw tightening. Why hadn't he been there? Why couldn't he have prevented this? He took an angry fist to the wall, shouting out his rage as his knuckles crashed into the enclosure. None of this was happening. This was a bad dream, a nightmare of the Nightmares. He couldn't deny, however, the dirty soot on his skin, the harsh smoke in his lungs, and the horrible heat of the flames...

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"…And so, that's how it is."

Meat sighed. "If it's not one thing, it's another… So, then, is Checkmate all right?"

"Doc says he oughta be fine," replied Terry. "But what matters to me is the snake in the grass got Sunshine. Why him?"

Gazelle Man crossed his arms. "We don't know enough yet to determine a motive. It might just be some dMp retaliation. I don't think it's anything to worry about."

"But what if it's something more than that..?" Seiuchin speculated. "The only one who can tell us anything is Checkmate, but I doubt he knows any more than we do."

"That is correct, dear walrus."

They turned to the doorway, a clean Checkmate entering. "The fist, might I have it? It belonged… to my master…"

Meat's brow furrowed. "So then, he's dead after all…"

"Aye, dead as chivalry…." Checkmate looked to the ceiling, pensive. "Sunshine hath been felled. I saw the body with mine own eyes. Please, allow me to have the fist."

Terry nodded, retrieving Sunshine's broken arm with harpoon shoved straight through, per the chess master's request. "If ya don't mind me askin', Check," the Texan began while transferring the spear fist. "Just what on Earth happened?"

"I wish I could tell thee, Kid, all of ye," he said in voice deep and sorrowful. "But truth be told, I am at a loss, myself… The master's body was in pieces and burned like red brick, a great fire rageth upon my arrival, explaining my ragged appearance, and then… the temple collapsed shortly afterward." Checkmate closed his eyes. "…I could do nothing…"

The others lowered their heads. The chess set wrestler turned his attentions to his late mentor's limb, molested by a blade mounted on a pole. Those two letters, red like the fire, were his only clue as to who could have committed such a heinous act. Two letters to tell who or what did Sunshine in…

"Please don't think ill of me, but methinks I need to take my leave. Good-bye, dear sirs…"

Checkmate, taking his master's arm and his sorrowful heart with him, exited via those glass double doors, ones which he'd recently been invited to pass through, and cast his sights to the blue sky above, his back to the building. It was strange, having all these feelings for this man who he held an air of indifference to his entire life. To him, Sunshine was just there. But now, his mind was clouded with regret, remorse. Sunshine watched him grow up, while he had watched the brick colossus grow old, a sort of bitter irony. He supposed he would have had to see his master die, anyway, but not like this…

The others--that is, Terry, Gazelle, and all the rest--watched as Check remained outside their glass doors, having pity for the ex-villain. "Poor kid…" Meat shook his head. "Even if he was a villain, Sunshine was all he had."

"I don't like this…" The Texan narrowed his eyes. "Somethin' real peculiar's floatin' 'round this whole thing an' I don't like the smell o--Check!"

Their eyes widened as they watched Checkmate fall forward. Terry wasn't sure, but it looked as if something had struck him from above. The chess set wrestler fell to the concrete, quick to pick himself back up and ready to fight. Standing before him was a green, zebra-striped giant with a humongous horn sprouting from his forehead. The rather unattractive fellow grinned aggressively.

"Bighorn!" Another yelled from the IWF's rooftop with a thick German accent. "We weren't supposed to attack!"

"Yeah, well that was for the match he lost. I had money riding on him!"

The dog-faced fellow and his rooster companion jumped down to meet Bighorn, the three of them stood side by side, glaring at the chess master with teeth bared and icy eyes. The four of the Muscle League and Meat rushed out of the building to be at the side of Checkmate, their attentions quickly being focused on the unfamiliar trio.

"Hello there, Muscle Leaguers," the rooster greeted them. "I'm Red Island Rhodes, and my associates here are Hoffman and Bighorn. How's life?"

"Don't play that with us," Gazelle Man hissed. "What business do you have here, coming from nowhere and attacking Checkmate?"

"Woah, now. Don't be like that. This moron here with the growth on his head's responsible for that."

"You're one to talk…" Bighorn shot back, gesturing toward the red crest on Rhode's cranium. The cock just shrugged. "So, I take it you got our boss's message? The dMp-inspired spear fist?"

The other wrestlers were taken aback. "dMp-inspired..? Then, you guys aren't with the dMp?"

"Hah! dMp?!" Hoffman quoted incredulously. "We would never belong to a organization so weak!"

"And anyway, we didn't come to chat. Here. Take these." Bighorn tossed a pack of tickets to anyone who could catch it, that happening to be Terry. "It's up to you as to whether you use them or not, but our boss's plans will be carried out, regardless."

They took off, hopping the rooftop to make their exit. "Wait!" Checkmate cried. "What be these plans of which thou speakest?! What meaning do these letters hold?!" If they heard him, they weren't stopping. Check threw out a disheartened moan. "Sir Kenyan, what is it that thou has received?"

"Huh? Oh… They're… plane tickets..?"

"Let me see!" Mantaro plucked the tickets from the Kid's hands. "Maybe it's an all expense paid trip to some tropical getaway!" He chuckled gleefully as he read the information on the ticket. Mantaro's jaw dropped to the ground. "Australia?!?!"

"You've got to be kidding…" Gazelle Man crossed his arms. "They don't really think we're gonna drop everything to play their little games, do they?"

"Then, please, good sirs," Checkmate approached. "Let me have one and I shall travel there myself."

The others turned to him in disbelief. "Check…" Seiuchin began. "All on your own?"

"What does it matter…? The only thing I have to lose now is my life."

The muscle prince leaned in towards Meat. "We can't just let him go all by himself, can we..?" He whispered. "It wouldn't be the thing to do…" The miniature manager whispered back. "I guess I can talk it over with Harabote… Er, Checkmate…" Meat addressed him. "Why don't you wait until we decide what we're going to do..? We'll help you, if we can."

Checkmate nodded. "Thank you. It would be most appreciated."

Something rotten was in the world of Chôjin wrestling. The chess set wrestler promised himself, and Sunshine (rest his soul), that he would uncover it, with or without assistance.