In the Hands of Young Chôjin
By Son Rhandi
Chapter 14: "Good Men Will Go"
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"I know. I'm not sure how to feel, either."
"Should we say something?"
"No. I think we should wait until he's done."
Blocken, Jr. laid the bouquet at his student's headstone, his mouth a rigid, straight line, and without a word, he rose-- slowly but surely-- and turned to approach the Gen-EXers. They both stood before their fallen ally's grave.
"Um…" Dead Signal rubbed the back of his wire pole neck. "Jade, I can't believe you're gone. It doesn't seem real, you know? Anyway, I'm real glad that you were a part of our class. …I don't really know what else to say…"
"Jade," Crione got down on bended knee. "There's really a lot I want to say but…I just don't know how… so… thank you for everything. We'll miss you."
When they turned around, Blocken was already headed back down the path to the cemetery gate. The Gen-EXers trotted to catch up to him. "Master Blocken, please don't run off," said Signal. "We'll have to return to Hercules soon."
"I don't have to be reminded," the old man snapped suddenly. He took a seat on a marble bench positioned beside the path and sighed, burying his face in his hands.
"Um… You did a wonderful job with Jade, Master Blocken…" Crione Man began. "He was a great wrestler. He really made our class shine… and well, taught me a little about the power of friendship. When Hercules is back together, when you're feeling better… do you think… you could educate us on it?"
Blocken looked up at him, tears of mourning shimmering in his eyes. The old man pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes and snorted. "You picked a fine time to be making requests…" He said sarcastically.
Crione looked a little downcast at that. "I'm sorry…"
"…But I suppose friends of my boy can't be all that bad, eh?"
"He seemed to like us well enough," quipped Signal.
"…… A Justice Chôjin's power is the power of friendship. You won't reach your full potential without it. That's your first lesson. When Hercules is back together, when we're all feeling better, I'll educate you two on the power of friendship. I think Jade would like that."
They bowed to him. "Thank you, Master Blocken."
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Soldier surveyed the area and shook his head. "It's really a shame all this had to happen…"
"I know, but it's all over now. All we can do is clean up and continue with our lives."
"It'll be difficult with only a handful of instructors…"
"We'll make do. It's not like we have that many students anymore, anyway…"
King Suguru and brother, Ataru, looked as the bulldozers gathered the rubble in piles of their years-old school. Most of their friends had died in the Bloody Arms assault: Curry Cook, Geronimo, Jesse Mavia, Rikishi Man, Buffalo Man… It would be only him and the other survivors now: Ramen Man, Robin Mask, and old Blocken, Jr.. Ataru --otherwise, Kinnikuman Soldier-- agreed to join them as soon as he heard the news. They'd have to talk with Terryman to see if he could come out to help, as well. In any case, it would be a while before they could begin again with the education of Justice Chôjin.
Kevin stood on the cliffs at Hercules' edge, his trench coat flowing in the dry, stale wind. It had been two weeks since the invasion of the Factory and his father had recovered nicely. It was time for him to be getting along, too.
"Kevin…"
He turned around. A pair of red eyes and a familiar blue mask looked back at him in the form of his patriarch. "Are you leaving?"
"Yes," he replied, turning his attention to the stars. "I'm going back to Earth shortly."
"Hm. Kevin, I'd like you to stay and help out here at the Factory."
The young Englishman turned around. "You've got a lot of skill and talent," Robin continued. "It would do us a great deal of service if you'd stay and help out with the new students."
"…Sorry, old man, but I'm no assistant teacher," Kevin chuckled dryly. "I've seen enough of this place already, and the sooner I leave, the better."
Robin Mask shrugged, seeming to expect that sort of answer. "Then I won't stop you. You're a grown man, so go and do what you want. But Kevin… You're still my son and… I love you. Thank you." Robin extended his hand.
Kevin looked down at his father's hand, then looked back at him. "Old man, I looked out for you then, but it doesn't change a thing between us. The next time we meet, it'll be in the ring."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Alright, then. Until we meet again..." They shook hands and went their separate ways.
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"I don't cry so much anymore, thanks to you. You helped me to grow up a bit, I think. …I'll always be a bit of a coward, but even in the face of death, I'll keep a straight face, because that's what you did, because that's what Justice Chôjin do. So…" He removed the lid from the urn. "Godspeed, Gazelle Man, back to the city you once protected…"
They spread his ashes over the city from high at Tokyo Tower, that fallen friend of theirs, the late Gazelle. Mantaro had made sure to hold a huge funeral march on his home planet. All of his subjects would know of his feat, everyone would know the name 'Gazelle Man'. They had him cremated and his remains scattered to the winds blowing through that overcrowded city, Tokyo. Meat and Mantaro kept their faces straight, while Terry took off his hat and placed it over his heart. Seiuchin covered his eyes and sobbed quietly, letting out all the tears that he didn't have time to shed those two weeks ago.
"Come on, you guys," said Meat. "We should go."
"Yeah…" Seiuchin sniffled and wiped his muzzle, following Meat to the elevator, Terry the Kid behind the both of them.
"You comin', Mantaro..?" Terry inquired, nestling his Stetson atop his cranium.
"I'll meet up with you guys later. I still have something else to do."
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He took the shuttle to the area they all played in before all the tragedy that Bloody Arms brought them, that field where they played a game of football and horse around as young men do. Tucked under his arm was a standard-sized pigskin, a new one he'd purchased just for this. Mantaro walked through the field a little ways. It was a blustery day, the wind tossing about the tuft of hair sticking out of his mask. The muscle prince plopped down in the grassy venue. He took from his back pocket a permanent marker and began to scrawl all over the football. Then, he set the ball down and returned to his feet, leaving the field as though he'd never been there to begin with. He stopped suddenly, looking over his shoulder, then up to the clouds overhead. There wouldn't be any stray spear fists, he was sure, and so, continued on his way.
To Checkmate:
It's been two weeks since we last saw you at the Bloody Arms space base. You're probably dead if you haven't returned by now, but somehow, I want to believe you escaped and are alive somewhere. I wanted to ask you if you'd join Muscle League. Though, I wouldn't care if you stayed dMp out of respect for Sunshine-- you'd be my friend in any case. If you're out their somewhere, if you happen to come back to this place, bring this ball back with you. We'll play a game of football again. And if you're not, well, please give Gazelle, Jade, and Sunshine my regards. I'll never forget Blocken's tears, I'll never forget Gazelle's last words, and I will never forget what you did for us. Even in death, I won't ever forget you.
Love,
Kinniku Mantaro
He heard a 'thud' come from behind him. Mantaro turned around and gasped. There was a black portal in the sky..! He ran as fast as his feet could carry him back to the place where he'd set the football, his eyes full of hope, his heart pounding in anticipation. And there he was, the castle and the horse's head towering on either shoulder, the familiar checkered cape, though burned to half its original length. "Checkmate…" He wanted to shout, but his voice could only managed a choked whisper.
The chess set wrestler knelt before the pigskin, his eyes darting to read Mantaro's message. He scooped the ball under his arm and turned to head for the IWF headquarters, stopping short upon seeing Mantaro. "Young Muscle…" He smiled.
"Checkmate…" Mantaro's face lit up, and he ran to meet his friend. Suddenly, his smile dropped. "Oh… Checkmate……"
His right arm… there was nothing below the shoulder… The man in tattered clothing cocked his head. "Do not look at me so, Mantaro. 'Tis only an arm I lost. Please excuse my late return, but needless to say, I've been away recovering. Now, might we fetch the others and have at a game of football?"
"…Yeah… Let's go get the guys… They're gonna be… so happy…" Mantaro took the pigskin and met the chess set wrestler in an embrace, Checkmate returning it with his remaining arm. After all their struggles, their sadness, they could finally go back to being something more than Chôjin wrestlers, they could go back to being young men, young men with brave hearts. They had transcended space and time, fighting all the while so that they may have back their fun times, so that there wouldn't be any more tears. The actions they took were not performed because they were what good Chôjin did, but because they were what good men did…
Good men will do good deeds.
Good men will go far.