The Sagittarius Cloth
A wall-mounted telephone rang in the empty hall of the Kido Mansion. It was Tatsumi who took it, though it was Saori on the other side of the line. "Tatsumi, it is time to make the calls," she ordered. "We already have eight Saints for the tournament, so arrange the production crews and publish the press release. Schedule a briefing for tomorrow afternoon at the Colosseum."
"Yes, Miss Saori. I will get to it right away," the man responded, and so casually the call came to an end.
The Graad Colosseum was a great venue built after the original Roman Colosseum's long lost appearance, only taking advantage of modern engineering and the highest of technology. At the next afternoon's arrival, the entrance was brimming with press and security, with the entrance hall on the inside in an even worse situation. It sported a sea of reporters, journalists and cameramen crowded in front of a stage, protected by a line of suited Kido guards.
A rustic wooden stand had been placed just off center, covered in microphones, some steps ahead of tall red curtains. On the wall to the right was a large screen, so far with nothing but promotional imagery of the Colosseum's interior, which the general populace had not experienced thus far; on the wall to the left, in bold chrome letters, was the organization's name for people to read well and clear: "GRAAD FOUNDATION". Most cameras would have to capture it if they wished to get a shot of the action on stage.
Again, it was Tatsumi who walked to the stand first, prompting press to machine gun him with flashes: "Good afternoon to all of you. Before we start, I would like to offer a few words." A slideshow was loaded on the screen, only a photo of the Colosseum appearing for starters. "First, questions will come after the primary announcement has been made. We will pass a microphone and anyone will be allowed to ask what they want, as long as it is pertinent to the subject matter. Off-topic questions will not be tolerated. Second, as Miss Kido enters, turn off your flashlights! There is enough lighting in the house, and she does not like being assaulted with flashes. If we see anyone flaring her during the announcement, they will be escorted out of the building." He bowed. "Thank you for understanding."
Once he had stepped down the stairs of the stage and joined the line of suited men ahead, Saori finally walked in, wearing a long white dress, its skirt fanning out into intricate laced fabric. A golden diadem interspersed with colorful strips adorned her long hair, and her neck was covered in a crocheted necklace flaunting coins of gold. Despite the agitation her appearance caused, noise was all she had to deal with, with few flashes soon censored by aggressive call-outs from the guards.
"Good afternoon," she said, and as soon as her tranquil voice came through, all chitchat settled. "What I am going to talk about today should come as a surprise to all of you. Initially this will all seem too unlikely to be true, yet it will be proven real soon enough." She pressed a button on the stand, then a picture of Mitsumasa Kido appeared on the screen beside. "It is public knowledge that my grandfather, Mitsumasa Kido, was an enthusiast of the martial arts. He invested large sums of money in a grand assortment of fighting tournaments across the world, and financed fighting schools to that end. He particularly held great interest in Greco-Roman wrestling, apart from a fascination for Ancient Greek history." She changed the slide to photos taken by her grandfather during his visit to Athens, those which exhibited the multiple acropoleis he visited, including the one surrounding the hidden entrance to Sanctuary. "It was during a visit to Athens that my grandfather experienced a memorable event. This made him aware of a group of warriors known as Saints."
Some occasional jeering started being heard from the crowd, but she did not mind, going to the next slides. Photos of craters, ruined buildings of many eras, and entirely razed forests were now displayed. Soon the folk connected the dots that those were supposed to display the might of such Saints, though even the least naive among the journalists assumed it to be a publicity stunt, the likes of which a serious woman such as Miss Kido should've been ashamed of.
"At first glance, these might seem like photographs of meteor impacts or the outcome of bombs, but they are in fact results of the power of said Saints. As you can see, it far surpasses that of an ordinary human." The crowd's disbelief grew once their predictions came true. Thereon Saori transitioned to the picture of a starry sky. "The secret behind such power is not some sort of martial art, but an energy called Cosmos, which Saints are experts at controlling. This allows them to fragment objects at the atomic level if they so will." A photo of the silhouette of a man putting on armor was shown; his helmet had a single horn, like that of a unicorn. "These Saints also wear armored outfits known as Cloths, each Cloth associated with the constellation that protects a given Saint. This allows their bodies to withstand blows far surpassing what humans like us could survive."
Mocking laughter echoed louder from occasional spots spectators finding it too ridiculous to let it continue. Most, in the other hand, continued televising it all — if they could not get the truth off Saori's mouth, at the very least they could expose her spiral into insanity to the whole world. Nonetheless, the presentation pressed on as usual, and as a slide of the Graad Foundation's headquarters popped on screen, two guards positioned themselves at each end of the curtains.
"Having learned this, my grandfather created the Graad Foundation, intent on gathering able-bodied children to be trained and achieve the might of those warriors. Said candidates were to bring us Cloths, which are material proof of Sainthood. Here they are, the eight Cloths our candidates brought to Japan so far!" The men pulled the curtains and revealed eight boxes placed in an arc, although a pedestal remained covered by black veil, clearly with another box atop. At this point some in the press were more inquisitive and less doubtful, desperately taking photos.
"This proves that at least eight of our candidates have become Saints. In other words, we have succeeded in raising children into Saints!" The next slide arguably showed the outline of three Saints, a strong back light rendering them into nothing but shadows. "That is not the whole of it. They have not come back to Japan only to show us their Cloths, but to put on a fight the world shall never forget. You will witness the greatest competition in all of history: a fight between combatants exceeding every human ability; a tournament of Saints!"
The press went haywire, unsure if the Kidos had found something incredible. Many of them yelled questions, some amazed and others cynical, so Saori had to raise her tone while security and Tatsumi ordered them to quiet down: "I promise to take questions in a few seconds. I have gathered you here because I need your help. Unfortunately, my grandfather passed away before enjoying the fruits of his labor, but he transferred this responsibility to me in his will. I must ensure that this tournament takes place and is as successful as if he would have made it. Please, let us make this event even greater than the games once held in the Roman Colosseum! I count on you to help us make my grandfather's ambition a reality!" She bowed on stage, and so the press went back to blaring the stage with their deafening ruckus.
Tatsumi took a wired microphone and, with the aid of other employees, began selecting journalists in the crowd to ask questions. Through the difficulties of opportunists, he hunted the sights of men and women he oft watched on television, the ones who could gather the most attention at a domestic and international level. "This is all difficult to believe in. Do you have any further evidence of the powers you claim those Saints possess?" the first one asked.
"Currently I have nothing to show you, but once the tournament starts, you will have more evidence than you need. I may look like a liar now, but I rest assured in the truth of my statements. Those who doubt me should be ridiculed as soon as the tournament kicks off," was how Saori confidently replied.
A journalist kept yelling by the side of the first one to ask a question, excited to have a chance of his own. Instead of waiting for Tatsumi to select him, he grabbed the microphone off his hand and spoke into it. "Saori, where… where are these eight Saints?"
Although, security ripped the microphone off them, Saori answered anyhow: "Seven of them are out back right now. They all agreed to take interviews after this."
"What can you say about evidence of the Graad Foundation's continuous involvement in foreign gambling and…" the third journalist to get to ask a question was silenced by security, who robbed the microphone off him.
"Please… please," Saori lamented after a sigh.
Another reporter beside him screamed to let him finish the question, but he was met with the guards' truculence. Tatsumi offered his complaint and extra warning: "I told you to keep your questions relevant, people, or this won't work out! We are talking about the event and nothing else!"
With how roughly they were being treated, soon the press noticed they were not to be treated as guests, but as people with the privilege to broadcast this announcement live in their respective networks, which made Saori's plea for aid ironic. If they didn't play by the house's rules, they would lose such privileges. Indeed, they were naught but tools to advertise Graad's upcoming endeavor. "With how powerful they are, is it really fine for those Saints to spill blood for entertainment?" the next one asked.
"You do not need to worry about that. We have something so valuable they will put all their might into this. You may unveil the prize now," as if she had anxiously expected such a question, Saori finished the phrase by motioning to one of the guards behind her, who walked to the remaining veil and pulled it off. The golden box of the Sagittarius Cloth was what rested on that taller podium, in the middle of all the other boxes, undressed in its splendor. Although this seemed of great importance and prompted photographers to register more frequently, the spectators did not understand its meaning, which the businesswoman explained: "The eight Cloths I had first shown you belong to Saints of the lowest rank, known as Bronze Saints. That which you see on the pedestal is a Cloth that belongs to a Saint of the highest rank, a Gold Saint! There are only twelve Cloths of such rank in existence, and we are confident the Saints will fight to have it. Next question."
While this circus yet ensued in Japan, it was faraway, deep in the Chinese country that a dark-haired girl ran down the hills of the Five Ancient Peaks. She made her way to a stately waterfall, traversing over a natural rock formation that offered a beautiful panorama of the surroundings. She pressed her steps over her flats, wearing a red flowered cheongsam, clearly aiming for a goal. The man she approached had hair as dark as hers, but whereas hers was tied into a single braid behind her, his was longer and untied, left wild as the jungle about the peaks. "Shiryu! Shiryu!" she called him.
The man, shirtless and doing one-handed push-ups upon her arrival, halted the workout at once to stand and turn to the girl. He was already quite muscular, even more after swelling his muscles with the harsh exercising he did every day, though it didn't seem he planned on quitting any time soon. "Shunrei? What's going on?" he inquired, noticing that she appeared flustered.
"Shiryu! You have to come to the shack. Old Master wants you to see something!"
"What happened?"
"It's something on TV. They're talking about a tournament of Saints!"
"A tournament of..." He frowned at that, grabbing a towel he left aside and putting it over the sweat of his neck. "Let's go."
The duo walked all the way up the hills in between the trees and bushes, until a humble wooden shack came to view. She tried to explain the little she heard, however, it wasn't enough to help him understand. "... I called the Old Master once this woman started talking about Saints, and he told me to hurry and get you," she spoke.
The voice of an elderly resounded from within now: "Foolish! This is foolish!" The two stared at each other and finally walked inside. A diminutive old man stood in front of the tube television, bemoaning at it as if it could hear his discontent. He wore a conical hat and covered the remainder of his short body with robes, having a cane in one frail hand. "Shiryu, this is foolish! Look at this!" he said upon noticing their entrance.
Shiryu crouched and looked closely at the screen, trying to make out the large letters on the side. "Graad Foundation... this is Saori," he that quickly assumed.
"So you are acquainted with this woman?"
"I am afraid I do. Her grandfather is the reason I came to Rozan in the first place."
Old Master lifted the cane and rested its pointed tip at a golden box in the background of the television. "That right there, Shiryu — that looks a lot like a Gold Cloth! If this is no falsehood and that Cloth falls in the wrong hands, there is no telling what catastrophes would ensue! Do you understand me?"
"O-Old Master…"
"Not only that, but a tournament! This goes against the laws every Saint lives by. When her stunt reaches ears in Sanctuary, they will surely lash back." The elder turned to the youth, who at that moment stood awaiting orders. "We cannot count with Sanctuary reaching them before we do, so we shall act accordingly. Shiryu, you mustn't allow anyone else to win this Gold Cloth! Go to Japan and get this Cloth back safely, through all means necessary."
Shiryu shut the eyes, Shunrei looking up at him in preoccupation. He slid the towel off his neck with a hand, then sighed and nodded. "Yes, Old Master. I will leave for Japan tomorrow," he accepted.
"I'm going with you!" said Shunrei.
He turned to her and denied it: "No. It would be best if you stayed and tended for Old Master, we don't know how dangerous it could get over there."
"I do not need that," the old man said, "Shunrei does more than I need for myself. I shall do well alone, so take her along. It will be a good change of pace for her to visit a different country for the first time. All you must do is protect her, Shiryu. I trust you are able to do that."
"Oh… of course! Alright, I guess we are both going to Japan then," he said, smiling at the girl whose eyes shone in glee.
"I'll go prepare my luggage!" Shunrei spoke and left for the bedroom, leaving the men to continue watching Saori answer a slew of questions.
The flood of memories that assaulted Shiryu reminded him of the heiress' character as a kid, but, above all, her grandfather's. Such a stunt was an absurdity in itself, albeit far worse coming from the granddaughter of a man so level-headed. "Saori… what is this about?" he whispered. "Could it be that you have gone mad?"