"Here's that glass of lemonade you asked for, young mistress, made with freshly squeezed lemons plucked directly from trees in the Amazon rainforest."
"This won't do. I asked for a glass of lemonade with fifty ice cubes. There are exactly forty-nine ice cubes in this glass. Take this back… and learn some basic math while you're at it."
"Y-yes, mistress. Terribly sorry, mistress."
While the man skulked away, trembling at the thought of losing a job that paid millions, the young mistress in question was sprawled out on a lounge chair. Sunglasses protected her eyes from the heat of the sun, sunscreen doing the same for her arms and legs. Karin Kanzuki stared off into the distance, overlooking the grounds that made up the Kanzuki Estate. Whole countries had been smaller than her family's home, countries that had much to benefit from their wealth.
But that was their problem.
Karin sighed. Looking over mountains and cherry blossom trees might have kept her eyes at ease, but it did little to alleviate her inner boredom. Lounging about in the sun was all well and good, but life had more to offer than that. Karin wanted a challenge. She'd wanted one for a while now, but the criminals she found by (intentionally) wandering into alleys were no match for the Kanzuki style of martial arts. They didn't interest her. Quite frankly, they put her to sleep.
Checking the time, Karin glanced down at her Adamantium-plated Dior watch. It had to have been at least a minute by now. If that butler of hers didn't hurry up, then he could say goodbye to-
"Here's your lemonade with forty-nine ice cubes, young mistress," the butler said, glass in hand.
She noticed the man was sweating profusely and had to dab his forehead with a cloth. She chalked it up to the heat radiating from the sun, as opposed to her having him run around.
Squinting, Karin lowered her sunglasses for a thorough inspection. Lo and behold, there were forty-nine ice cubes.
"Yes, thank you." Karin gave a nod in thanks and took the drink, complete with a straw and a tiny umbrella hat. Before she could take a sip, though…
"Young mistress."
"What is it now?! " Karin said, growing more annoyed by the man's insistence to interrupt. As if being bored hadn't already been bad enough.
"There is a programme on the television that may interest you."
Recoiling against her better judgement, Karin followed him into one of the living rooms. It was fitted with an 8K screen, and the Kanzuki often allowed the room to be rented out for use as a cinema.
"This had better be worth my time." Karin propped her feet up on a table and waited. She didn't know why the butler was smiling, or what he had to smile about, but did not question it as he unpaused the television.
On the screen was what looked to be a ballroom. The camera moved along to show men and women in fancy dress, all of them opting to wear masks. It looked to be some sort of high-society event, not too different from the parties Karin's parents dragged her along to. Positioned in the middle of elegance and nobility sat an empty cage. Empty that is, until a figure swooped down from the cage's ceiling and made their presence more than known.
"Does the blood of a fighter run through your veins? Do you yearn to have your talents tested in the ring?"
An earnest fascination drew Karin in closer, both literally and figuratively.
"If you think you have what it takes, then come to the Casa de Campeones in Barcelona. We'll be waiting."
The figure, who had not revealed his name, and wore a mask of his own that covered everything except his eyes, pierced the camera with his gaze. Karin almost sensed that, despite the notion being devoid of any logic at all, he was looking at her. As if, somehow, he could see exactly who was on the other side.
Normal programming resumed once the advertisement ended. No doubt existed in Karin's mind as to what her next course of action would be. With excitement coursing through muscles that had been inactive for far too long, Karin launched up from her seat, causing the butler to flinch.
"Pack our bags," she said. "The Kanzuki's are going to Spain."
He returned her smile, and she understood now why he had smiled in the first place.
A long and arduous process followed for the family's butler, who had the task of packing bags for four people; Karin, her mother, her father, and himself. For Karin, it was as simple as waking up and then taking the limousine to the airport. Of course, the impromptu decision meant that the family had no time to book their private flyer and settled on standard airline travel.
Karin wondered, as she stared out the window opposite her first-class seat, about the journey ahead.
What sort of fighters would be at this Casa de Campeones?
Would any of them be a challenge?
Most importantly, who was the man in the mask, and what did he have to hide?
Karin stepped out of the plane, followed by her parents, and then the butler carrying their belongings. She could hardly see his face beneath the baggage, but he hadn't complained, so Karin supposed he had to be fine.
"I hope you have enjoyed your flight," the attendant said with a whitened smile. "Your suite has already been prepared, and the hotel staff are awaiting your arrival."
"They had better be. And the bedsheets should be made of 100% cotton. The Kanzuki's do not sleep on anything less," Karin's father told the woman with a scowling frown.
Moving from one sunny environment to the next, Karin found her favourite pair of shades and put them on. Sleep was the very last thing on her mind; sandy beaches and a fighting tournament being held somewhere were far more appealing than the idea of being cooped up in a stuffy room with foreign-language television.
A gloved hand on Karin's shoulder stopped her from running off. The strict, yet doting voice came from her mother.
"Now I know you're eager to explore, but please don't wander too far from the hotel, dear. And do give us a call if any trouble does come up."
"You mustn't worry about me, mother, I'll be fine," Karin said with a roll of her eyes. "I'm perfectly capable of defending myself."
The Kanzuki and their butler allowed her to go off on her own. She had been raised to be a fighter and was at that age where she needed to explore the world with her own eyes, on her lonesome.
Though she had intended to go directly from the airport to the ring, Karin couldn't help but go in and out of a few shops. Barcelona's streets were paved with colour and personality. Even the standard tourist traps had a vibrant glow to them that compelled more exploration. Being that as it may, Karin could spend time sightseeing later.
She ventured off the beaten path and down the narrow alley. Clothes had been set out to dry, hanging from the windows above. A street fighting tournament, Karin surmised, wouldn't be held in broad daylight, for any old tourist or policeman to stumble upon. Karin also surmised that with no directions, or knowledge of the Spanish language, the search could take her a while. And in peak summer-worthy weather, no less.
Today had not been the best of days to wear tight black shorts.
When Karin did eventually reach her gateway to excitement, the actual entrance itself left a lot to be desired; a far cry from the gala shown on television. A wooden door on the side of the alley read Casa de Campeones in glowing letters and said no more. Occasionally the words flickered and disappeared completely.
Others most likely would have called it a day and gone home, not wanting to be involved in clearly shady dealings. But not Karin. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door and did not have to wait long for an answer.
"You are?" a man said in a heavy Spanish accent. Judging from his sunglasses and all-black attire, he had to have been the security. Karin didn't like the way he looked her up and down, as if he couldn't quite believe someone with her appearance would show up.
"I heard capable fighters would be here, and I would like to meet them," Karin answered, her words succinct and to the point.
"Little thing like you wants to be in the ring?" The man burst out in laughter. He had quite a bit of heft to him, causing his fat to ripple as he did so, much to Karin's disgust. Yet, she made no attempt to stop him, standing in position with only the barest hint of a frown. "Either you got some big cojones, senorita, or you in the wrong place."
"Actually, I think you'll find I know exactly where I am."
Without giving the security guard time to think, Karin seized his arm. The man had forced her hand, leaving her no other choice. In spite of the massive difference in size between them, she had no trouble performing a perfect execution of the Arakuma Inashi, flinging him high into the air to land on his back.
An attempt to get up only resulted in groaning and more pain for the security guard. While Karin initially thought that she only threw him down out of necessity, she couldn't deny getting pleasure out of proving the man's preconceptions wrong. Maybe just a slight bit.
Karin folded her arms and looked down at him, smirking. "Still think I'm in the wrong place now?"
"Go right ahead, senorita." The concrete muffled his voice.
Without giving him a second thought, Karin entered.
Where she expected to see a room more resembling the one she saw on television, with socialites and snobs. Those sorts were absent, instead replaced by people more like her. Fighters, some more than twice her size, sparred with each other and with worn-out punching bags. Word must have spread fast because Karin's fellow combatants had come in droves, like moths to the flame that was the masked man's allure. One light source existed in the middle of the room, where most of the fighters trained, making it difficult for her to properly make out anything beyond them.
She could, however, see a few illuminated silhouettes. It didn't bother her that some of the fighters clearly had her beat when it came to physical strength.
Why? Because of her family's motto. The worst a Kanzuki will ever be, is the best.
Her gaze did not linger on the girl for much longer when Karin spotted, in the centre of the action, a cage. The same one she had seen on TV. Like an invisible magnet attracted her, Karin walked toward the cage. Her heart pounded with every step. An image on a screen could only represent the real thing so well. Up close and in person, it looked so much larger. So much more daunting.
No one stopped Karin from climbing into the metal cage. If they did, then she couldn't hear them, too absorbed in her own eagerness for the masked man to show his face. She hoped he showed up, and at the same time, was terrified that he would.
Cutting the string of tension, the masked man gave a sharp cry. Honed instincts allowed Karin to whip her head in the noise's direction; the very top of the inner cage's walls.
Karin watched and found she could not look away as the man performed a backflip, gliding through the air afterwards. His movements were like that of an Olympian diver; fierce, and yet every limb, every minute gesture, had been accounted for.
His shoes made no more than a whisper when he landed in front of Karin, neither breaking sweat nor the hypnotising aura surrounding him. Certainly he had hypnotised the young lady in the ring, whose eyes had not moved an inch. It took him tapping her shoulder to knock Karin out of her stupor and bring her back to reality.
"Oh!" Karin said. "You're…you're the man I saw on the television with the mask."
"That is what I am, but not who I am. You may call me, Vega," the man said, bowing. "And what name would a lovely young lady such as yourself have?" Even his voice had a magnetic quality to it.
"Karin. Karin Kanzuki," she answered instantly, before Vega's charm could overwhelm her.
She hadn't come all the way to Barcelona just to act all doe-eyed. Karin came for a fight, and a fight she would get. Shaking her head, Karin cleared herself of intoxicating thoughts. That pounding in her heart never stopped beating away like a drum, but Karin did not let it control her.
"I have come from Japan to fight you." Her gaze steeled.
"Is that so?" Vega leaned forward, his height advantage and the strength coursing in sinewy muscles bearing down on Karin. A nagging bone in her body told her to leave; scamper off with her pride while she still could. But Karin had never obeyed the whims of doubt, and she did not intend to start with Vega.
"I'm flattered, but it's not that simple. There's a tournament going on here, which means you'll have to enter and work your way up before you can-"
"No," Karin said, raising her voice. "They can fight amongst themselves. I'm not interested in them. But I am interested in fighting you."
A change must have occurred in Vega's opinion of Karin, as he folded his arms and leaned back up. His face being hidden by a mask and pale light made it hard to tell, but she had a feeling Vega was smiling.
"Very well. I, Vega, will fight you. Let's see if your brawn is a match for your beauty."
With the door of the cage closed, the chance for Karin to change her mind had long since faded.
After giving Vega the traditional martial arts salute of the open hand and the closed fist, she stepped back to put some distance between them. Outside of the cage, the fighters fell into silence, as eager to watch Vega in action as Karin was to fight him. She could not, and would not, falter now. The worst a Kanzuki will ever be, is the best.
Vega tossed it into the air and the mask came off, confirming what Karin had suspected all along; he covered his face in spite of his face, and not because of it.
He lunged at her with a killer's precision. Karin thought his flying dive had been impressive, but his agility left little room for her to do anything except bat away his strikes with her palm. Vega wore a metal glove with three claws that stood out like sharp knives. For a man who clearly prided himself on looks, he had no qualms when it came to ruining the faces of others.
Her body could only dash away as Vega kept her on the defensive, narrowly avoiding potential slashes to the face. Karin had never met anyone who left her unable to counterattack, forced to move backwards and stay in corners. So far, neither fighter had landed a single hit. That didn't make Karin think of herself as any less weak.
But after a while, her legs began to tire. Karin backed away as she fielded yet another slash, every breath now an effort. She knew her movements had slowed since the beginning of the fight, and the crowd knew about as much. Cheers, consisting of "Vega" and "Karin", now left out the latter name.
It occurred to Karin that, for the first time in her life, she was the underdog. There was no might or maybe, or secret ace she'd hidden up the sleeve of her red sailor fuku.
Giving up had never really been her style, and reflected poorly on the Kanzuki name. One strategy. Barely a concrete plan, and more a hopeful idea. That was all she had. If it didn't work, then…no. It had to.
Whereas Karin had sweat herself a new layer of oily skin, her opponent remained in perfect condition without a drop of perspiration to suggest otherwise.
"You can't keep dodging forever!" Vega called out to Karin, even as he drove his claw towards her chest.
She dropped to the ground before the knives could reach her. Vega only slightly furrowed his brow, in fear of marring his face with hideous wrinkles. He could do little else. By the time he realised Karin's gesture had been a feign of feat, her legs had already swept underneath to render him off-balance.
Karin had hardly been able to breathe prior, but now she couldn't. Not without having the air inside sucked out, as if Vega really had punched her in the chest. Taking in gasps through the blurry mess that had become her vision, Karin watched Vega fall, hoping with all the hope she had that her last gambit paid off.
It did not.
The same agility Vega used to dive from the ceiling, he used to steady himself, flipping in midair and sticking to the wall like a fly. Karin's heart sank. Already she knew the outcome of their fight had been decided, but fought against her buckling knees to take her loss standing up.
"I call this attack the Sky-High Claw!"
He jumped from the wall with one arm outstretched, the sharp edge of his claws mere centimetres away from Karin's face. She made no effort to move. The tired look in Vega's eyes told Karin everything. He wanted a challenge, and instead received a girl whose confidence far outweighed her abilities.
As Vega neared, the voice in Karin's head repeated her family's motto over and over until consciousness slipped away from her.
Voices. Too many for her half-awake mind to handle.
"Is she gonna be okay?"
"You've gone too far this time, Vega."
"I'll give her one thing. There aren't many people who have been so confident as to demand a challenge from me, and been completely humiliated afterwards."
Completely humiliated?
The nerve Vega's callous words struck made Karin fully aware of her surroundings. After the fight, she realised she'd been laid out on a mattress that did no favours for her back. Her eyes still closed, Karin patted her cheek, making sure she had remained in one piece. Stitches covered up a wound inflicted on one side of her face; the distinct, jagged markings beneath a clear sign that Vega had made his mark. On Karin's face, and on her life.
Vega had won. Karin balled her hands into fists at the realisation, tightening them with the strength she wished had helped her earlier. The worst a Kanzuki will ever be, is the best. Disgracing herself was bad enough, but now she brought shame upon her family.
What Karin should have learned from the fight is that no matter how powerful you think you are, that power means nothing if you rush in and fail to do the proper research about who you're going up against. You should study your competition as much as you study yourself.
Karin's desire to be the best in everything blinded her from the truth. More exists to fighting than simply winning and losing, but the conclusion she reached was that she wasn't enough. She hadn't spent enough hours, enough days training in the gym. She had to be quicker, stronger.
Then she'd humiliate Vega. Once she did that, Karin would consider searching for a foe who would elude her no longer. Less a foe, and more a rival.