Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 is the property of Rumiko Takahashi and all associated licensers. The King of Fighters and it associated series are the property of SNK-Playmore and all associated licensers. This is not a work for profit. I claim no rights to the characters. This is a work of fiction.
Continuity for Ranma is mostly derived from the manga, with some of the anime sprinkled in for good measure. Continuity for the King of Fighters is a modified form of the current story, how that is should be explained in story, but I am willing to explain for those with further questions.
Enjoy!
Chapter 19
Jenet looked at Mousse incredulously. How could this punk claim that he was going to beat her in under a minute? Preposterous!
"I don't know what you think you've discovered boy, but it's not going to save you, let alone help you defeat me."
"Oh, but it will." Mousse tilted his head slightly to the side, as if he was studying something. "Tell me woman, what do you know about ki manipulation?"
"About as much as anyone else." The pirate replied nonchalantly. "You put the key in the lock and turn it to open the door."
"Very droll, but you know very well what I'm talking about." He shot her the severe look of a schoolteacher who had caught his student cheating. "I think you are a very talented manipulator of ki. Far more so then me or my teammates."
"What?" Ranma yelled from the sidelines. "You're the one who can't use it to save his life! Don't go and lump me in with your failures!"
Ryoga was not going to remain silent on the issue either.
"I'd like to see her try to match my Shi Shi Hokodan! I've knocked out Ranma with it!"
"Those fights didn't count!" the pigtailed boy desperately countered. "Once I figured out how to counter it, those fights didn't count!"
"You two are getting me off track!" Mousse snapped at both of them without looking back. Quickly regaining his composure, he moved the conversation forward. "Now as I was saying, I believe you to be a skilled manipulator of ki, that indeed all of your attacks against me involved the use of ki."
"What is he talking about?" Ryoga asked Ranma. "I didn't feel her use any ki. Even assuming she wasn't drawing from her emotions, we should have been able to sense something."
Ranma shook his head. "I don't know where he's going with this, but I don't think he's just blowing hot air. I wanna hear more."
Mousse made a small waving gesture with his hand. "The wind, it's been kicking up for the past few moments, hasn't it. Strange, because until then there had been no breeze at all."
As he said that, Mousse saw Jenet unconsciously begin to tense up in her arms and neck, her body language betraying her silence. As he had expected, his instincts had been correct.
"So let me guess, you use small amounts of ki concentrated in your hands to stir up the wind? Invisible, efficient, hard to detect and highly effective; I guess you are a capable warrior after all… for a floozy."
"Bravo, nerd boy." Jenet said in mock praise, clapping her hands to heighten the effect. "You have my techniques figured out. But knowing how they work won't help you win this fight. I'm way stronger than some big-mouthed punk who has to rely on weapons instead of his own strength. Just what do you think you've accomplished?"
"What have I accomplished?" Mousse tilted his head once again. "I was just about to get to that part. I think it's time for a little demonstration, but first I need the proper tool to do so. Let's see now, where is it." Mousse fumbled around with his left sleeve for a brief moment.
"Ah, there we go."
From the inside of his sleeve he drew out a tiě shān, a Chinese war fan. He unfolded the steel weapon to its full extent, and allowed its razor-sharp ribs to gleam in the sunlight.
"What are you doing?" Jenet asked, dumbstruck by her opponent's actions.
"Be quiet woman, the demonstration is still in progress. Now of course one would never usually open a war fan in a fight, it's impractical and reduces it effectiveness as a club, which would be its normal function." The amazon's eyes narrowed. "However, in this case I have a very special purpose in mind. Before that however, I would like to ask you a question. How strong do you think I am?"
"What?" Jenet tried to grasp where this was all going. "I mean… what?"
"Don't worry racking that empty head of yours; I'll give you the answer. People look at me and tend to underestimate just how strong I am because of how I look, but do you realize just how much strength it takes to carry around all these weapons in my robes and still be able to stand, let alone walk?
"But it's more than that. A few months ago, I underwent some special training involving a jizou statue. I'll spare you the details, but after that incident, my strength was increased to new heights. I would say that I now exceed Ranma in raw physical power, and nearly match Hibiki."
"Give me a break. I'm as strong as Ryoga too. And you own strength is debatable; my win record against you certainly agrees." Ranma said curtly from the sidelines.
"I'm stronger than the two of you put together!" Ryoga bellowed.
"Can you two shut up and let me finish! I'm making a point here!" Mousse snapped again as he lost his patience. Did those two fools have to comment on everything? They were completely unable to appreciate true showmanship!
"Now where was I? Oh yes, I was explaining about this fan." He resumed addressing Jenet. "What do you think would happen if I were to use this fan to churn up the air?"
He had no intention of letting Jenet respond. With a deft wave of his arm, he swung the large fan in a large, smooth arcing motion in front of him. The massive current of air it produced nearly knocked Jenet off of her feet, and created a ferocious rumbling that rung throughout the arena.
'No way!' Jenet cried to herself. 'That guy generated a huge gust of wind just by waving around an oversized fan? He's a monster!'
"Not bad at all Mousse." Ranma was genuinely impressed as he observed his rival's actions. He did not think the stupid duck had it in him to pull off a technique like that. Maybe he had to start taking Mousse more seriously as a rival.
"Your praise is unnecessary, Ranma… and unwanted. The attack is quite crude when you get down to it, and not something I would normally use in battle. However, in this case, it will serve an important purpose," the amazon gave his opponent a predatory glance. "Now that I can cancel out your attacks, this fight is mine!"
"Oooooooooh? You think your knock-off attacks can overpower the real thing?" Jenet stamped her foot. "Now you've gone and really pissed me off! I haven't even broken out my strongest moves yet! Your stupid little fan won't save you then!"
Mousse chuckled derisively. "Then why don't you show me these techniques right now? No more talk, let's end this."
"If you insist! Just don't complain when I send you to the hospital for a few years!"
Jenet began to dart forward, closing the space between her and Mousse in an erratic pattern so as not to give away her intentions. She had two techniques that she knew for certain could knock out the amazon if she connected with them: Aurora and Many, Many Torpedoes. Both of them had their strengths and weaknesses in this situation, and she knew that which choice she made could spell the difference between victory and defeat.
Many, Many Torpedoes was the more logical choice. As the name implied it was a technique where Jenet shot herself feet-forward like a torpedo, delivering hundreds of kicks in a matter of seconds at her target. Its speed and range would allow her to approach Mousse with minimal risk… at least in theory. Jenet had lingering doubts in her mind that this was exactly what her opponent wanted her to do. With that fan of his, he could potentially neutralize the full force of her blows, and in the aftermath she would be left completely vulnerable to a strike from one of his weapons. Jenet did not want to end up skewered on the point of a spear because she took the obvious option.
That left her with Aurora. It had a much shorter range, but it was her most damaging attack. Wrapping herself in razor-sharp winds, she smashed into her opponent, blowing them upwards, higher and higher before she sent them back to earth with a crushing final blow. It would be difficult to get into close range to use it, but it would be equally hard for Mousse to stop it once she did.
'I'll go with it,' she decided. 'I've broken through his guard already, I can do it again.'
"What are you dancing around for, woman?" Mousse taunted as he threw a knife at her. "Were you lying about your abilities? Just so much hot air? Like you don't already use enough of it!"
"You bastard!" Jenet spat as she rolled forward to avoid the knife. Enough of this! It was time to put this big-mouthed dweeb in his place! With adrenaline surging though her body, the young pirate ran forward.
"Here I come! Yahoooooooo!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, generating a small gust of wind behind her for extra propulsion. Surrounded by cutting winds, she spun into Mousse as he brought his fan up for another swing. Jenet aggressively moved into close range, giving him as little room as possible to move his arms, neutralizing the power behind his attack. As she slammed into his body, sending it high up into the air with her, Jenet felt a tremendous amount of pride at her success.
'I've got him. He's totally helpless, now all I have to do is perform the final blow and…'
She never got to finish that thought. The feeling of cold metal chains wrapping around her ankles shocked Jenet out of her euphoria. What she had not realized was that Mousse had never intended to use the war fan to counter her attack; he only wanted her to believe that was his plan. So focused was she on trying to stop him from using it, she never even considered that he might have some other weapon in mind.
Taking control of the situation, Mousse pulled on the chains and slammed Jenet into the ground with extreme prejudice, her slight frame making a hard thud as it collided with the arena floor. He spun slightly as he used the chains to control his own descent, and stuck the landing with the panache of a veteran gymnast. Not wasting any more time, he readied even more chains.
He always enjoyed this part.
In her dazed state, Jenet could faintly hear the sound of rustling chains. As her senses recovered, she could start feeling them rap around her body tightly, constraining her arms and the upper parts of her legs. She was totally immobilized, and utterly at the mercy of her foe.
"Ah, that's much better. Don't bother struggling; the chains will only get tighter. This fight is over woman, just like I promised you. Although if it makes you feel any better, I wasn't able to defeat you in under a minute as I had promised. Not that it will get you any mercy from me.
"As it stands you have two options. I can either smash you into the ground as many times as necessary until you fall unconscious, or you can submit now and save yourself a lot of pain and me a lot of time. I don't really care either way, but you should make your choice quickly, before I get impatient and make it for you."
Fear raced through Jenet's mind. Just how serious was Mousse's threat? Who was she kidding, all evidence pointed towards him being perfectly willing to cold-bloodedly torture her until she was physically broken. The sicko would probably get off on it too.
Submitting, Jenet could not think of a greater shame she could endure. Voluntarily giving up the fight while she still had strength in her to resist, it went against every conviction she held. But Mousse had not been lying about the chains, the more she struggled, the tighter they grew, and it seemed as if there was no means of her getting out of this.
"Hurry up woman; I'm only giving you another five seconds to choose. Five… four…" Mousse began his countdown with unnerving casualness.
'I… I… don't want to lose. But this is hopeless!'
"Three… two… o…"
"I submit!" Jenet screamed at the top of her lungs. "…Do you hear that, judges? I submit!"
The arena grew very quiet for a moment, as the crowd waited in anticipation for what would come next.
After a brief wait, the announcer came in over the speakers, her voice unnaturally cheery in comparison to the dreadful tension in the arena. "The judges have made their decision. The winner of this match by submission is… Mous-sey! Two points will be awarded to his team!"
"It's Mousse people! One syllable! Is that a monkey up there announcing in the booth or something?" But his complaints were drowned out by the cheering of the fans. He gave up and turned back to his opponent. He still had words with here as well.
"You took me for a fool, a lot of people do. But let me ask you woman: who's the fool now? To have underestimated a warrior of Nǚjiézú… there is no greater foolishness in this world!" he tried to strike a victory pose as he said this, spreading his arms and legs out in a theatrical fashion, but he only managed to end up looking like a fool in doing so.
Ranma could only shake his head in aggravation as he saw his teammate continue his trash-talking. Now, Ranma Saotome enjoyed mocking his opponents as much as anyone… when they earned it for being jerks or outright incompetent, but insulting an opponent who gave you a solid fight? That was just plain wrong. If he thought he could get away with it, he would have knocked Mousse out and dragged the bastard out of the ring, but that might end up looking even worse to the public than Mousse's stupid victory pose, and that was pretty horrific by any standard.
'Thanks a lot Mousse for making us look like a bunch of assholes to the crowd,' he thought. 'Why don't you just kick a puppy while you're at it? I think you still haven't alienated everyone!'
"Damn, is it me or is he getting a little too into this?" Ryoga asked Ranma.
"He was always too into it. You just haven't had to deal with much of his crap until now because he doesn't try to kill you all the time. And I should be happy he won too, but he just had to go and ruin it by acting like… well acting like Mousse."
"Next time woman, don't be so quick to dismiss a warrior who uses hidden weapons. You'll still lose, but you won't look as stupid." Mousse said as he released the chains on Jenet. He watched her walk away pitifully, and caught sight of her teammate, the big man in the mask, giving him an accusing glare.
'Look at him judging me like I did something wrong. I'm so very tired of being judged by people like that. I came here to win, to show the world what I was really made of. You fools can hate me if you like, but from this point forward I will be respected. Mousse plays the fool no longer!' With that he walked back to his corner of the ring.
"As promised, I have returned victorious." Mousse gloated as he gracefully stepped down from the ring to rejoin his teammates.
"You make me sick." Ryoga said as he offered Mousse the most fitting greeting he could think of. "Why didn't you show your opponent more respect? She was a competent martial artist, but more than that she was a lady! Do you have any honor?"
Mousse did not give an inch in the face of Ryoga's accusations. "With an attitude like that I can see why you lost your first match."
"You bastard! Give me a straight answer!" Ryoga was now only inches from Mousse's face, his hot breath fogging over Mousse's glasses.
"Hibiki… understand that I know more about female martial artists than you ever will. And it's not just because you are an idiot, I come from a culture that glorifies women who practice martial arts. Believe me when I say that the woman I just fought was nothing compared to any of them. Weaklings don't deserve pity, not when they go and put themselves in a real fight."
That answer just served to infuriate Ryoga even more. "I don't think she was weak at all! I think you got lucky! Ranma, you agree with me, right?"
"Sorry, I'm not even gonna touch this one." Ranma threw up his hands. "You two can solve this on your own time, because Mousse's dickery aside, I've got a fight coming up in a moment and I need to concentrate on winning it."
Mousse's face hardened. "My 'dickery' is what scored us two points. Are you going to be an ingrate too, Ranma?"
"You won. I'll give that much to you, but you'll never have my respect. Not with your attitude."
"Heh, your respect is worthless, but your recognition of my victory? That I will gladly accept. Besides, more importantly, I honored my word to Shampoo, and that is what counted most."
Mousse's head turned up towards the heavens. "Oh Shampoo my darling, did you see my victory? I hope you enjoyed it."
"Mousse… won?" Shampoo yawned. The fight had stated to drag out a little too long for her taste and tire her (as anything involving Mousse tended to do to her), and she had dozed off for a few minutes, missing the climax of the bout.
"And a convincing victory at that. It seemed uncertain there for a while, but the part-timer pulled through at the end." Cologne nodded sagely
Cologne allowed herself a small smile. Yes, this had turned out to be a good match. Mousse had displayed a level of cunning and planning not normally seen in his fights. The old woman had always suspected he had it in him, but this was the first time it all came together. One element had certainly been in Mousse's favor. For once he was not directly fighting for the affection of Shampoo, something that had always distracted his thoughts and weakened him in the past.
'I see that when you are not completely distracted by your obsessive love for Shampoo, you become quite the terror in battle. Very good, Mousse. You clearly have even more potential then I gave you credit for. But will you ever live up to it? Our village could make great use of it, but I know that there is still a large streak of selfishness in your heart, and that worries me of what might come in the future.'
If only he could build upon his strengths, and learn to overcome those weaknesses… well there was time for that later. It would be a long tournament after all.
"Now it is time to see what my son-in-law is capable of. I hope he does not disappoint."
Shampoo quirked an eyebrow at the old woman's statement.
"You think Airen be outdone by Mousse, great-grandmother? I mean no offense, but that is too-too impossible! Airen is so much stronger than teammates, and Mousse beat team captain. The captain always strongest member, right? So that other man, the one in bird mask, he no match for Airen."
"If it were that simple…"
"What? Great-grandmother, you know something you not saying?"
"It is just an old woman's intuition, but I think it would be premature to say that son-in-law is going to have an easy time with this one."
'That giant,' Cologne thought. 'He is no ordinary man. Something about his spirit… it is pure. I have not felt that in many years now. I will admit I always had a soft spot for those types. Regardless, he should prove to be a good test for the boy. Ranma, if you want to one day be the best in the world, you have to be ready to defeat men like that, whose passion burn as bright as your own, or even greater. Are you up to the task? That will be revealed soon enough.'
Shampoo meanwhile had thoughts of her own. Thoughts of her beloved Ranma conquering his opponent in front of the whole world and declaring the victory for her honor. Not in the stupid tacky way Mousse had done either, but with real style befitting someone of her husband's ability. She was practically giddy at the thought of it.
Could things get any better?
Aware of what Shampoo was thinking, Cologne could only sigh in exasperation. 'Silly girl, you have as much to learn as Mousse.'
"We won!" Akane gasped. "I mean Ranma's team won!"
"Yes, but should we feel good about it?" Kasumi asked. "The way Mr. Mousse won wasn't very nice. That poor girl… that was too much."
"I know what you mean." Akane's elation deflated as she took in her elder sister's comment.
Akane knew better than most people just how ruthless the male amazon could be, having been kidnapped and threatened by him on multiple occasions. She wanted to think that Mousse had been turning over a new leaf in the past few months, but despite acting far less destructive and treacherous towards Ranma and the Tendos, it was clear that he was still a very dangerous individual. He was not bound by the same sense of honor or ethics that Ranma and Ryoga were, and that gave him an edge in certain respects. It had been wrong of her to dismiss him as the weak link of the team, and while she felt bad about admitting it, she was glad he was on Ranma's side for once instead of opposing him.
"That is one scary dude. He gets the job done however." O'Conner mumbled absentmindedly, taking out a clean page in his notebook. A warrior of Nǚjiézú, huh? That would require some further investigation.
Nabiki meanwhile sat smugly in her seat. This time she had won her bet. Who cared how Mousse had done it? The money was just as valuable either way.
"So it's down to Ranma and the big guy." Akane said. "I wonder how that's going to work out."
"It could either way." O'Conner answered her. "That's Tizoc down there, who's arguably the greatest heavyweight pro-wrestler in the world right now. Then again, if that Saotome kid is the strongest member of his team… there are a lot of variables at play."
"Pro-wrestling? Is that a joke?" Nabiki suppressed a laugh. "Even Ranma can take out an oversized clown like that."
O'Conner groaned again in annoyance. Did that amateur always have to weigh in on subjects she had no clue about?
"Don't be so quick to dismiss Tizoc. Pro-wrestling is not as tame as you make it out to be. The storylines are planned out in advance, that's true, but the violence is often all too real. And of course there's shoot or "strong style" wrestling, which was created in order to make pro-wrestling a competitive martial art. Tizoc is a master of shoot wrestling, and a veteran of over three dozen cage matches, all of which he's come out of victorious."
"Was the cage on fire?" Nabiki taunted.
"No, but there was a ladder involved in at least two of them, and that is not something to be trifled with lightly."
"That's nothing, Ranma's faced far worse. I mean Akane has hit him with objects far larger than a ladder. Why there was that one time…"
"Nabiki!"
"What? I'm saying you've helped your fiancée train for this critical moment in his life."
"I have a question for the reporter, Akane." Kasumi broke in, again having to do the thankless task of defusing the tension between her younger sisters. "Why is that large fighter wearing that bird mask? Does he take it off before he fights? It seems impractical."
"Oh? You're right Kasumi, that mask is odd. Maybe Mr. O'Conner…"
"I'm on it. So you want to know about the mask? Well, Tizoc is Mexican, and in his home country most of the wrestlers fight wearing masks. The masks are highly symbolic, representing the 'public face' of the wrestler to the rest of the world. To be seen without it is almost unheard of, and to lose it in a match would be a huge disgrace. I'm surprised you didn't know about that, a lot of Japanese wrestlers who train in Mexico adopt the masks as well."
"I never followed wrestling. I guess I never took it all that seriously." Akane felt embarrassed at her own lack of knowledge on the subject. Why had she never bothered to learn this kind of stuff? How was she ever going to be taken seriously as a martial artist if she did not even understand the different philosophies of other schools of combat?
O'Conner sighed. "I hope for his sake your fiancée takes it seriously, or he may end up flattened like a pancake. The power of a pro-wrestler can never be underestimated."
"…" Akane had no idea how to respond to that. Even a reference to her engagement was not enough to distract her from how serious the situation was.
'No, what am I getting so worried about. Ranma went into this tournament ready to take on any kind of opponent. He knows how competent these guys are, and he's not going to underestimate anyone this time around. Ranma will be focused, and he's almost unbeatable when he puts his mind to it. I just need to put my faith in him again, that he knows what he's doing.'
Akane took a deep breath, and her mind went over that last thought again.
'…Put my faith in him. Put my faith in him. Put my…'
"Damn it! It's not working!" She screamed in desperation.
Nabiki shook her head. "Typical. You still have a ways to go, Akane."
"Good lord, what is wrong with you people?" O'Conner said in exasperation. He was just thankful he could not understand what the eldest sister was talking about. She must have been the craziest one in the bunch by far, how else could you explain her smiling while her little sister was screaming like a banshee?
Nuts, the whole lot of them. And he use to complain about his sisters.
"Meg, Andie, wherever you are right now, I send you my sincerest apologies."
"Okay, now this is what I wanted to see." Pepe pulled his chair up closer to the monitor to get a better look. "Tizoc, my main man, gets to show his stuff! Total main event material in the making!"
"He doesn't look all that impressive to me," Lynn said as she yawned. "For all the fuss you made about Jenet's team, they've been totally dominated by those guys we met yesterday. Billy was right about how strong they were."
"Oh shut up Lynn," Pepe said bitterly. "Marco and Jenet had some bad luck, that's all. And that Moussy guy is a cheater. I knew from the moment I met that prick that he must fight dirty. Hidden weapons! I tell you, he could never win a straight-up fight. Even worse, he treated a total babe like Jenet so badly! I'll whip that punk around like a broken belt if I ever get the chance, you can count on it."
"He fought within the rules of the tournament, Pepe. You can't diminish his accomplishments just because you have it out for the guy. Haven't you learned anything from hanging around Billy?"
"Heh, whatever." Pepe looked over to the door. "When is Billy coming back anyway? I wanted him to see Tizoc fight. He's gonna miss all the action."
"I don't know. He said he was going to check up on our competition, but I think he's looking for information about the Black Dragon, seeing if any of the other teams have a connection with them. Honestly, I should have gone with him, it's not safe to be wandering around these halls alone."
Pepe cocked an eyebrow. "Is that the only reason? Or maybe you wanted to spend some 'quality' time with your man?"
"It's… it's… nothing like that!" Lynn became flustered. "You have a really dirty mind, you know that José!"
"Oh settle down chica, it was all in fun. But you should make your move on him sooner rather than later. I bet a guy like Billy has ladies knocking down his door all the time."
"Can we focus on more important manners?" Lynn said as she tried to shake the blush from her cheeks.
"Ai ai, you're no fun. I'm going to watch this match. If you want to look for Billy, I won't stop you, but I'm telling you this is one fight you don't want to miss. Also, men don't like girls who can't place any trust in them."
"José!" All of Lynn's efforts to disperse her blush went in vain as she turned an even brighter shade of crimson than previously.
"Yep, too easy." Pepe smirked as he reclined back in his chair.
"Miss Jenet, are you alright?" Tizoc rushed to the side of his teammate as she exited the ring.
"I can't believe I lost." Jenet slumped next to the edge of the ring. "I messed up and now we're in the hole. I'm the damn team captain and I blew our chances!"
In the last tournament Tizoc, Gato, and she had avoided elimination, mostly because things had gone crazy when some weird heavily armed man attacked the site where the finals were being held. However, this time a defeat in the first round seemed almost certain and Jenet knew she could blame no one but herself for it. It felt like the bottom was falling out from her grand plans, that her confidence had been nothing but a joke. She struggled to fight back hot tears from streaming down her face.
As she felt utterly overwhelmed, a large hand rested on her shoulder. She looked up to see Tizoc standing over her.
"Calm yourself noble Miss Jenet, there is no reason to descend into despair." The giant wrestler looked across the ring. "Do not forget that this match is not over. I will fight their captain now, and when I win, we will tie them in points. More than that, I will make my victory so convincing that the judges will have no choice but to advance us to the next round."
"You really think so?" Jenet said between sniffs.
"I know so. I have full confidence in my ability to win, because Tizoc will never lose when it matters most. I swore an oath on my mask that I would never lose as long as even a single person believes in me, and today is no different. Do you believe I can win, Miss Jenet?"
"Yes, I do." Jenet said with hope shining in her eyes.
"SPLENDID! Then so shall it be! And remember Miss Jenet, never lose hope! When you give that up, you give away your future."
"I'm not a ten-year old, Tizoc." Jenet giggled. "You don't need to keep the act up for my sake anymore."
"I apologize, but I know no other way of living." He stepped towards the ring. "A man like me does everything in full measures! It keeps away the regrets!"
"Forget about the money, just win!" Jenet called out, waving frantically. She could see him give a silent nod, so out of character for him, as he continued his walk.
Ranma had already entered the ring and was waiting for his opponent to meet up with him. He kept his eyes firmly locked on Tizoc the whole time it took for the wrestler to reach the center of the ring. At last they stood across from one another, trying to gauge the measure of the other man.
"I hope you fight with more honor than your comrade did." Tizoc said with a hint of warning in his voice.
"Don't worry, I'm nothing like Mousse. I do what it takes to win, but I don't make it a point to humiliate my opponents… unless they ask for it." Ranma said as he tried to look his opponent in the face, trying being the operative word.
Over the past day or so, Ranma had to confront an unpleasant truth. He was short. Okay, not short, but compared to all of these huge fighters he kept running into he felt tiny by comparison. He did not want to develop a complex or anything over it, but he frankly felt a bit stupid having to tilt his head up to get a good look at a man who stood a good half a meter taller than him; a guy hiding his face behind a mask at that.
That mask bothered Ranma. A big part of fighting lay in the ability to read an opponent's emotions, and the mask countered that somewhat, although body language was just as important, if not more so. But more than that, it was conventional wisdom not to trust someone who hid their face from others. What did this guy want to hide?
At any rate it could not hurt to draw this conversation out a bit more, get a better feel for what he was dealing with this time around.
"So I guess it's down to you and me, Big Bird." He began.
"Bird? I think you are mistaken, this is a griffon mask." Tizoc's tone was polite, but quite firm.
"Come again?"
"The Griffon!" the wrestler said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Griffon, that's a breed of vulture, right?" Ryoga could be heard asking Mousse from outside of the ring. "So why is he saying he's not a bird? You don't think he's confusing it for a Griffin? Then again, a griffin has a bird's head as well."
"IT IS A GRIFFON MASK!" Tizoc bellowed over Ranma's head at the Lost Boy.
"I don't care what he says, that is a bird mask." Ryoga muttered.
"I don't care period." Mousse casually said as he wiped his glasses.
"Okay… Mr. Griffon, what fighting style do you use?" Ranma asked, almost afraid to hear what the answer would be.
"I am a practitioner of Pro-wrestling, the most powerful system of combat ever devised by man!"
"…" Ranma was left speechless.
Pro-wrestling? Like those crazy musclemen he saw on TV prancing around half-naked while hitting each other with chairs? He had never even heard of that stuff before he moved in with the Tendos, and Nabiki had claimed it was all pretend, entertainment for kids and lonely men with too much time and money on their hands. Now granted Nabiki was never the most reliable source of information, but her explanation had seemed reasonable enough at the time. So was this crazy masked guy seriously claiming that he was a legitimate fighter using a style that was supposedly make-believe?
"It seems you are confused." Tizoc stated flatly.
"A little." By which Ranma meant a lot.
"I see. Then a full introduction is in order!"
"I don't think that's really…"
Ranma never got to finish his sentence. With a dramatic flourish of his cape, Tizoc turned toward the crowd and began his grand soliloquy.
"I am the proud wall of muscle that shields the weak and defenseless from the machinations of the wicked! I am the guardian of the dreams and hopes of the world's children! I am the shooting star of pro-wrestling, who conquers all villains who dare to face me! Whatever form evil takes, whether it is zombies, vampire women, or even the dreaded Mummies of Guanajuato, I will fight them with every last ounce of my strength!"
The crowd broke into wild cheers as he went on, the children seeming to be particularly delighted by their hero's words. Having reached the climax, Tizoc now turned around to face Ranma once more and deliver the final lines face-to-face.
"Yes, I do all of these things and more! For I am a courageous and noble soldier of justice! Know my name, young man! I am TIZOC, THE GRIFFON MASK! CAW!"
His last words seemed to echo throughout the stadium, and while Ranma was sure he was only imagining it, he swore he could hear some sort of fanfare playing in the background.
"Did he just caw? Like a bird?" Ryoga asked flabbergasted.
"But remember, he's a griffon." Mousse snidely corrected him, but The Lost Boy was too distracted by something else he noticed to take offense.
"And did his beak just open when he did that? I think I saw a tongue in there! Who… what is he?"
"Do we really need to go over that again? Give that loon a chance and he'll keep us here until the sun sets."
Ryoga was not appeased. "For that matter how does he even hear? That mask doesn't even have any ear holes!"
"I think you're missing the point here… you know what, forget it." Having given up, Mousse decided to sit down and meditate until things settled down. And if Ranma just happened to be beaten to a bloody pulp in the meantime, such was life.
For his part Ranma could only think of one thing in regard to what he had just witnessed.
'He's as bad as Kuno, maybe even worse. This freak had to be my first opponent?'
Okay, technically that was two things, but you get the point.
Tizoc saw Ranma's blank expression and concluded the boy must have not understood the importance of his speech. Granted, it was normally accompanied by his trademark 'Theme of Griffon' which helped to convey the deep sincerity and passion of his statements (with a dash of drama thrown in for good measure).
"Do you need me to repeat that young man? You seemed to be confused. Should I retrieve a copy of my speech to help you understand better? I brought one translated into the Japanese language just in case this happened."
"…You are messed up; seriously, seriously messed up."
"You mean my mask is out of place?" Tizoc fidgeted with his back feathers a bit. "Thank you for telling me, young man. That could have been very embarrassing for me."
"Uh… you're welcome?" Okay, so this guy was no Kuno, but he was still damn weird. And Ranma had no idea of what to expect from him as a fighter, which meant he could potentially be very dangerous.
"You seem to be a noble person," Tizoc continued. "And under normal circumstances I would fight you with a certain amount of restraint, as you are still a child. However, I made a promise to Miss Jenet that I would win this match for our team, and I will use my full strength in order to do so. I ask for your forgiveness in advance for any pain I might cause you."
"Don't bother with any of that, big man." Ranma cracked his knuckles. "I'm the one who's going to win this match, and I'd be downright insulted if you went easy on me. If anything I should be apologizing for not letting you keep your promise."
"Ha! You speak bold words! Now let us see how your actions match up to them!" With that, Tizoc tossed his blue cape from his shoulders. With every one of his muscles now on display, he looked even larger and more imposing than before.
For a third time, the speakers blared to life to announce the start of a new match.
"Are the fighters ready? OK… Round Three… Gooooo!"
Tizoc wasted no time and took a wild swing with his right arm at Ranma's head. The power behind it was obvious, but it lacked any planning or finesse, and the pigtailed boy easily sidestepped the clumsy blow.
As Ranma had expected, this guy was all brawn and nothing else. Ryoga could have come up with a better plan on his worst day, and he was a lot faster too. Ranma knew that winning this fight would come down to wearing his opponent down bit by bit, chipping away at his defenses until he gave out.
To start with, Ranma jabbed at Tizoc's exposed flank, trying to ram his fist into the wrestler's ribcage. He did not want take a risk with anything fancy just yet. Just jumping up and kicking Tizoc in the face might have led to a quicker victory, but if the wrestler got in a lucky counterblow things could go south very quickly.
Ranma was then amazed when Tizoc swatted his punch away with a simple but well coordinated block with his forearm. Ranma tried to keep the offensive going, throwing out several more quick jabs and kicks, but again he was frustrated at every turn. Tizoc seemed bemused by the whole thing, as if he were entertaining a child.
"Having fun there?" Ranma asked as he launched another kick.
"A little bit. You might not be so happy in a second though." The wrestler sidestepped the kick and then effortless stretched his massive arms out and picked Ranma off of his feet. There was not even any time to react; Ranma was lifted up into the air like a sack of potatoes.
"HERCULES THROW!"
The wrestler threw his opponent halfway across the ring as if it were nothing. As he sailed through the air, Ranma desperately shifted his body to regain control of his balance, to land on his feet. He flipped himself at the last moment and avoided any harm.
He had only a second to recover from the landing before he heard it, the sound of stampeding feet. Like the rumbling of an incoming train, it grew louder and louder, until it was almost upon him.
"POSEIDON… WAVE!"
Ranma threw himself to the ground to avoid the massive clothesline aimed at his head. The pigtailed boy cursed as he realized that Tizoc had been setting him up from the first moment of the match to hit him with this particular attack, and it was only Ranma's own heightened reflexes that had put avoided it. A slower, less agile fighter would have ended up taking the full brunt of the blow, maybe even be knocked out cold in one shot.
Having missed, Tizoc managed to come to a complete stop before Ranma could take advantage of his exposed back. He managed to pivot on his right foot with considerable agility and face his enemy once more.
'This guy can plan ahead,' the boy admitted to himself. 'I'm not fighting some hulking brute here. This is a real martial artist using a style I'm not familiar with. I wanted a challenge for my first match, and I got it.'
"Are you hesitating, young man?" Tizoc called out confidently. "You know what they say about that!"
"Don't worry about me big guy, I'm just getting started. You haven't seen anything yet!" Ranma took up his fighting stance once again. "Watch me bring it!"
End Chapter
Wow, it took me a lot longer than I hoped to publish this chapter. Sadly, I was fighting a bout of chronic fatigue over the past few weeks, and it was hard enough to focus on my everyday tasks, let alone work on the story. It's okay however, I'm starting to get back on track. You can expect a chapter for the month of October, count on it. Also, I'm going back to earlier chapters and correcting mistakes found in them. You won't find anything new, but they will make for smoother reading when I'm done editing.
Also, I thank everyone for their reviews. I'll get into specific comments next time, but you guys really do help focus my writing, so never be afraid to leave a few words one way or the other.
I'll have a lot more for you next month including a big announcement, so until then, take care!