DISCLAIMER: Ultimate Muscle/Kinnikuman Nisei doesn't belong to me. I haven't collected enough Bazooka Joe bubble gum wraps to buy the right for the series, either way.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: And we've reached the third chapter! The characters keep getting manlier and, as you will be able to notice, the plot has been thickening while acquiring a totally new shape.

Due to certain circumstances, I'm in dire need of a proofreader to help me correct and verify the syntax/grammar of every release to give you guys the best I can offer. Also, I'm glad for all the reviews you've been giving to the fic up to this point. Thanks guys!

A Sonata for the Fallen
Chapter 3: Bad Seed
By MexMarco!

Quiet and overwhelmed by an unknown baroque ambience, the Royal Kinniku Library and its humongous shelves manifested their surreal splendor to Ataru Kinniku, the brother of the 58th Kinniku King, Chojin otherwise known as Kinnikuman Soldier. Having relinquished his right to inherit the Kinniku throne during his youth, Ataru traveled the Universe as a rebel and sometimes even an outlaw, early realizing his inability to follow the lineage of his royal family. It was not until the fateful day the six Kinnikumen were reunited by forces beyond his comprehension, -including Suguru, his previously unknown sibling- that he came back from his apparent death to fight in the Royal Survivor Tournament. Taking the mantle of the Kinnikuman Soldier after having defeated the real Chojin, Ataru donned a Kinniku mask once more and gathered a team strong enough to defeat the other Royal Contestants; however, the team's efforts fell short against the tenacity and brutality of the Super Phoenix team. In a final match that tested both Ataru's and Super Phoenix's ability to the maximum, the rebel Kinniku Prince and counterfeit contestant received a fatal wound from the Kinniku Revenger: His Chojin flame faded away before he was able to help Suguru reach the throne he sought for and rightly deserved.

Having revived thanks to Suguru's Face Flash technique, Ataru was invited to rule Kinniku Planet alongside his brother. Acting as a Chancellor and Seigi Chojin Prime Minister, the Prince finally made use of his savvy and sense of strategy to aid the throne capture and prosecute criminals together with The Ninja, thus creating the Chojin Untouchables.

Ataru breathed a muffled sigh; it had been so long since the Untouchable's last operation, and now that The Ninja had been apparently K.I.A. by Hanzo, another run looked impossible. Ironically, the thick volume that the Soldier held so tightly to his chest with his right arm, wrapped in leather and an iron border, was a record of all the reports turned in during his war against superhuman crime. Every letter written on the sepia hued paper and every signature that rested below its resumes highlighted the tales of glory, the success of every mission and the emblazoning of yet another anecdote into his old mind.

Despite its majestic and supernatural appearance, almost accurately representing a gothic image described by Poe himself, Ataru enjoyed the secrecy and serenity that such a hall of knowledge evoked into his soul. It didn't matter how honed his senses were, the endless rows of encyclopedias, anthologies and miscellaneous literature disappeared into the horizon, resembling almost a monotonous maze that few knew how to get out of. Due to this, there weren't many visitors who stopped by, allowing him to reclaim the locale as his personal study; not even his dear brother dared to come by.

Ataru inhaled deeply, closed his eyes and listened to the rhythmical echo of his own breathing. Relaxed by the deep sound of his flaring nostrils, his lips curved to form an invisible smile and he even began to stroke the thick bush of facial hair that emerged from the underside of his mask satisfactorily. This particular gesture of his only manifested itself during private moments of relaxation that he shared with no one but himself.

His wrinkled eyelids finally opened, but his gaze met an unexpected and frightening sight. Before him, over six feet tall, burly and smelling of garlic and several horrors of modern cuisine, a pig faced demon stood with all its repulsive might. The creature's nose wrinkled and even snorted a couple of times while fixing its menacing sapphire eyes on the helpless Ataru, who stifled a gasp as the vile wretched thing opened its filthy mouth to say in an unknown language.

"Hey, uncle. How's it going?" Mantaro asked with a half grin while waving one of his gloved hands at Ataru.

The soldier swallowed his heart, put it back in place and shook his fist in anger at his pig nephew. "Argh! How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that! What in God's name is wrong with you!"

"Um… I was thinking you'd be glad to see me." Mantaro frowned and drew circles on the tiled floor with his right foot.

I am Ataru thought. He seldom saw his nephew, especially ever since he started his Chojin career. The soldier only saw him in holidays, family reunions or birthday parties, although he did talk to him a bit during his fights against No Respect; nevertheless, his presence was unexpected.

"Well…" Ataru placed the book he was holding on the empty space of a nearby shelf and patted off the dust from his vest and cape. "How'd you get this far anyway? This library is supposed to be about as complex as an English courtyard maze."

The Prince simply cleared his throat and pointed towards a big sized map of the library built in the same fashion of that of a mall. Pointing at both Kinnikus current location with an arrow that said "YOU ARE HERE" in bold white letters, said map was apparently built onto the side of the massive bookshelf. Ataru rolled his eyes and nodded to himself, letting his arms hang in defeat: He shouldn't have installed those.

"Is there anything you need? Bear in mind this is not a food court." Ataru said, folding his arms on his back. "But if you're here for something serious, there are plenty of books here, so help yourself."

"Actually, what I needed was… is advice. I'm sure you've been up to date with what has been happening with the family and… me." Mantaro looked at his uncle solemnly.

"Ah…" Ataru cupped his chin and began to walk around the library, waving at his nephew to follow him. Indeed, he had heard all about Mantaro's painful loss at the hands of Robin Mask's son, as well as his current state of depression which he immediately noticed by his gestures, posture and way of talking. As a soldier, he was able to perceive the fear, doubt and anger of even the most inexpressive of men. "So, you've come to me to ask for advice. Mind if I ask why you didn't consult your father first?"

Mantaro followed Ataru aimlessly throughout the library, listening to the dull echo and clacking of their footsteps. "I discarded my dad from the beginning. I think I know him well enough to find out what he'd tell me. Same with Grandpa."

"How so? They have both participated in the Chojin Olympics at least once, Mantaro, whereas I have only seen 'action' during that tournament where your father was crowned King…" Ataru stopped abruptly after the last sentence, giving his nephew a quick glare. "Are you implying you've come to me so I can talk to you about defeat?"

The Prince shook his head and flailed his arms slowly, trying to catch up with his uncle. "No! Of course not! That's not the reason I've come to see you." Ataru knew he said the truth.

"So what?" Ataru kept pressing further with his harsh interrogatory.

Mantaro swallowed deeply, took a deep breath and halted a few steps behind his uncle. "You left home when you refused to inherit the throne… right?"

Ataru narrowed his eyes to thin slits. What was his nephew up to now? "Yes, I did. At first, your grandfather started denying my existence because he was never able to understand my reasons. Now that I'm back home helping your father… he just gets really mad whenever I ask him to give me the salt every time we meet at dinner." He explained with a chuckle.

"Then, you've finally made amends with him?" The Prince asked with an uncharacteristic tone that exuded hope.

The soldier shook his head slowly, gave his back to Mantaro and continued walking. "I let down my father… your 'grandpa' when I refused to don the mantle of his legend. He has an obviously good reason to be mad at me, after all; he poured all his life into achieving all those victories… but I just shrugged and walked away." Strangely, Ataru's anecdote didn't sound at all painful or filled with sorrow.

"Why did you do that then?"

Ataru's fingers curled into fists and his invisible brow furrowed, tugging at the fabric of his green mask. "Get straight to the point, Mantaro."

Mantaro felt his uncle's coldness, but gathered enough courage to avoid wetting his pants and running off as fast as his legs allowed him. "I'm trying to… but I wish I could listen to your reasons for doing such a thing."

Ataru growled under his breath. Such a thing he said repeatedly to himself, knowing that, as usual, he wasn't understood for his actions. Still, he felt he owed an explanation to Mantaro.

"Because I saw that the life of royalty, its splendor and regal endeavors weren't the bricks of the path I wanted to follow. Happy now?" He replied harshly. "Fine. Two hallways to the west and you'll be out of here, where you belong." Ataru kept walking, not even bothering to bid his nephew goodbye.

The Prince thought his choices over, but something about his uncle's demeanor forced him to try his luck. "No! I'm not leaving until you tell me why you decided to emancipate from the family!"

Ataru stopped abruptly, bringing his teeth behind his mask to bear. "What!" He hissed furiously.

"I know it all! Not only did you run off, you also renounced to the Kinniku name. You're not even supposed to be stepping foot into the castle!"

The following few seconds were a slow motioned, blurry haze for Mantaro. Ataru turned to his left, stretched out an arm and firmly squeezed his nephew's temples with inhuman strength, burying his fingers into his skull. Surprised and overwhelmed by the pain, the Prince crumbled under his own weight, falling on his knees with a thud. The soldier simply swung his arm towards the nearest shelf, slamming Mantaro on the wood; afterwards, his nostrils flaring painfully, Ataru pressed his forearm into his nephew's throat, putting him in an improvised chokehold.

"Who told you that…?" Ataru tried to remain calm but lost patience and asked once more. "WHO TOLD YOU THAT!"

Mantaro struggled against his uncle's strong arm while trying to breathe. His efforts were futile. "Ack… It was… Grandpa… Is that why... he always says you don't exist?"

Ataru was losing his patience. "Why does this matter to you! What benefits from all of this! Who! Did you go all Nancy Drew on me, minding other people's business because you thought it was fun!" His eyes soon were as big as dollar coins. "Don't think you'll take advantage out of the depressed and sullen kid drama you've been staging over the past few months!"

The Prince's eyes became watery and his grip on consciousness was faltering, but still he was able to speak, even if it was incoherently. "Ugh… Do you… rmph… remember my last birthday? The gift you gave me?" He slowly slid a hand into his pant's pockets and pulled out the crimson pocket knife his uncle had given him, the sheath pointing towards him as a gesture of trust.

Taking the knife off Mantaro's grasp with relative ease, Ataru let go off his nephew's throat and, through a quick repositioning of his arms, he grappled the Prince by the elbows. He looked at him so fiercely and closely that both their eyes watered; Ataru even got a direct sample of his nephew's horrid breath as he gasped for air.

With the coldness of a calculating machine, the Soldier bent his whole body backwards while pulling Mantaro's arms with an underhook lock, arching his back to an impossible angle. The Prince, helpless due to his lack of breath and partial disorientation, lunged forward immediately, thus hitting the floor like a slab of concrete with his shoulders and neck. Bones cracked loudly as the victim opened his mouth, but only gagging and guttural sounds emerged from his throat.

"REVERSE TIGER SUPLEX NIKUDAN STYLE!" Ataru yelled out loud as he let go off Mantaro's stiff arms. The Prince stared blankly at the ceiling while taking very deep and audible gasps. His neck felt like an iron rod at melting point… certainly it was an unbearable pain that he rarely ever experienced, even during his matches against foes as strong as Mars or Checkmate.

"Let that be a lesson for you. Hopefully you will stop being so nosey… figuratively." Ataru spat with anger while looking down at his nephew's tattered body, having no regrets towards his latest actions.

The old generation Prince was about to walk away from such a depressing scene when he felt a loose hand driven by poor volition grip around his ankle. Ataru hissed at Mantaro once more and turn around to meet quite an unexpected sight: It was his nephew, growling angrily while pointing at the knife he had been holding for the past few seconds.

"I understand you, uncle… I know… why you left home." Mantaro tried to incorporate himself but his knees failed him, forcing him to sit on the floor instead.

"Bullocks…" Ataru grumbled. He had been disappointed by similar words too many times during his nearly five decades of life.

"NO!" Mantaro yelled angrily before reaching a coughing fit. All the time, he tried to look at Ataru in the eyes. "I know what it feels like… to carry on someone else's legacy … fighting not for yourself but for the approval of others! I failed everyone because it wasn't me standing on that ring on the first place! It was…"

"SILENCE!" Ataru shook his fist at Mantaro, but the Prince's expression remained the same. "You have no idea about what you're saying!"

"I WAS ABOUT TO RIP OFF MY MASK LAST NIGHT WITH YOUR KNIFE!" Mantaro yelled with an anger that had accumulated from years and years of victories and losses, glory and defeat, beatification and humiliation; in a nutshell, the sum of an eternity of condescendence that fed the raging fire of his heart like the heat of a thousand suns. Every word that emerged from his dry, swollen monkey lips sounded like the poetry of the defeated, the cry of the conquered. It was simply like a sonata for the fallen, a dying roar let out not by sore losers but warriors who have lost the battle of life.

Ataru was speechless when such tragic words rang inside his eardrums. Disbelief was the only thing his old and tired eyes could exteriorize. "What… did you just say?"

The Prince looked down at the floor, waiting for the stiffness to abandon his sore body. Contrasting with Mantaro's full fledged sorrow, his expression demonstrated anger and bitterness at his apparent lack of strength and integrity. "You're not… going to have me say it again… are you?" He muttered angrily in between gasps. "I'm tired of being everybody's superhero, trying to keep up with ridiculous standards and training that really doesn't leave me with anything besides pain and fatigue. I know why you ran away, uncle…"

The soldier stared blankly at his nephew.

"You hate this family, don't you? You hate being a Kinniku, somebody forging a legend against his own god damned will." Mantaro scratched his head and tried to get back on his feet once again, losing his balance once again despite his struggling; however, before crumbling once again his fall was stopped by the help of two firm hands.

Eyeing him thoughtfully, Ataru held Mantaro by his armpits. The moment both of them exchanged glances lasted almost an eternity before the rebel Kinniku draped his nephew's arm around his neck to help him walk.

"Before you dare to say just one more word, let's head over to my study room. We need to talk." Ataru's voice shook the room's foundation like a thunderstorm. Mantaro simply nodded, looking at his uncle in shock.

Nearly five minutes later, the two men vanished from the library's eternal vastness. The only memory left from their encounter was a circular shaped, caved in portion of the polished floor surrounded by cracks and rifts, as well as the abject remains of what appeared to be a tiny blade.