CHAPTER FIVE: WINE AND RITUALS

"The future depends on what we do in the present."

"Blizzard... Spark..."

Those words again.

The intensely painful feeling returned to her head.

"Rush... Thirty... Dawn... Tranquility... Five..."

As she heard those words, the strength in her body disappeared, leaving her helpless.

"Nexus... Eleven... Speed Boat..."

Awakening suddenly, Honoka found herself drenched in sweat and her heart pounding, as though an electric shock had surged through her spine. Her breath came in labored gasps, but the sweet scent of air freshener was a pleasant way to rouse from her slumber. "Miss, are you okay?" a concerned voice inquired.

Taking stock of her surroundings, Honoka realized she was in the backseat of a taxi, having dozed off during her journey to the exclusive hotel complex reserved for tournament fighters. Her head had rested against the cool glass window, serving as a makeshift pillow. Though slightly disheveled, her appearance was not as chaotic as it had been at school. Her hair was slightly tousled, and a hint of drool clung to her face.

"U-Uh, yeah, I am." she responded with an embarrassed chuckle, wiping the sleep from her eyes. "I guess I've just been so excited about the tournament that I barely slept a wink last night."

The driver chuckled in understanding. "I don't blame you. I'd be excited too if I were in your shoes. The world's greatest fighters will be gathered there, after all."

"No kidding! I can't wait." exclaimed Honoka, her eyes filled with anticipation. Just learning about the upcoming fighting tournament in town, where she would have the chance to meet some of the world's greatest fighters, made her excitement overflow. "Oooh, I bet I'll end up meeting the luchadores King II or even the awesome Heihachi Mishima." she enthusiastically gushed, clasping her hands together. Honoka's imagination ran wild as she envisioned herself standing among her idols, the fearless warriors she admired.

The cab driver glanced at Honoka through the rearview mirror, genuinely interested. "Heihachi Mishima, eh? You a fan?"

Honoka's face lit up, and she nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, absolutely! I've been a fan since I was a kid," she replied. "I mean, Bass and Tina Armstrong, along with Kasumi, are my favorite fighters, but Heihachi definitely takes the cake as the ultimate fighter."

The taxi driver smiled and commented, "Hmm, you don't strike me as someone who keeps up with the news regularly."

Curiously, Honoka tilted her head to the side, a playful smile adorning her face. "Hmm? What makes you say that?" she innocently questioned, genuinely intrigued by the driver's remark.

With a chuckle, the driver replied, "Well, you genuinely seem surprised and excited about this tournament. It's refreshing to see someone who is truly passionate about something, not just pretending."

Honoka blushed slightly, feeling understood. "T-Thank you! Every time I watch Heihachi in action, it's like a surge of adrenaline. His power, technique, and that intense expression on his face... It's electrifying!"

The taxi driver nodded, his eyes gleaming with nostalgia. "You know, I actually met Heihachi once, back in my younger days. I used to compete in underground fighting tournaments, and one day, I found myself in the same ring as him. It was an unforgettable experience."

Honoka's eyes widened in awe. "Really? What was he like? Tell me! Tell me!"

"Now now, be patient." The taxi driver chuckled in amusement. "He was exactly as formidable as you would expect," replied the driver with a hint of admiration in his voice. "But what struck me the most was his presence. When he entered the ring, it felt like the entire world held its breath. He exuded power and determination that was unparalleled."

Honoka listened intently, imagining incredible battles and triumphant victories. She pictured herself standing alongside Heihachi, absorbing his knowledge and conquering any opponent daring to challenge them.

.As the taxi reached Honoka's destination, the driver turned to her with a knowing smile. "You remind me of my younger self—a dreamer, filled with passion and determination. I have no doubt that you'll leave your mark in the fighting world someday."

Honoka blushed once again, feeling a surge of motivation. "Thank you for your kind words. Meeting Heihachi would be a dream come true, but even if it doesn't happen, I will continue training and improving. I want to become a fighter who inspires others, just like he does."

The driver nodded approvingly. "You have the right mindset, kid. Keep that fire burning, and who knows? Maybe one day, you'll find yourself face to face with Heihachi Mishima, ready to conquer the world together."

Honoka stepped out of the taxi, bidding farewell to the friendly driver. As she walked towards the hotel, her heart swelled with determination and excitement. She knew that her journey had just begun, and with every step forward, she was getting closer to her ultimate dream. "I can't believe it! I can't wait," she whispered to herself, her eyes shining with a renewed sense of purpose.

Honoka placed her belongings on the floor and took a moment to catch her breath. "That should be the last of them...geez, they're so heavy."

After regaining her composure, she marveled at the hotel room they had assigned her. As exclusive to tournament fighters, this was to be her home for a while. "Wow...It's so pretty." Honoka couldn't help but think they must have made a mistake with the room assignment.

The bed was made of redwood, dressed in pink and white sheets, with a table next to it with welcoming flowers and a walk-in closet. To the right was another door. She made her way to the mysterious door and pushed it open to find a bathtub built right into the floor and a sink made of what she thought was gold or pretty close with sparkling white facecloths.

While exploring, Honoka stumbled upon a cozy balcony overlooking a peaceful garden. The fragrant scent of flowers surrounded her, filling her senses with joy. Knowing that the tournament would be intense, having this serene place to retreat to was a remarkable luxury.

As Honoka settled into a comfortable armchair by the window, she marveled at the attention to detail in the room.

Honoka let out a squeal. "Wow, this is amazing! Grandma would have loved it here," Her voice was filled with joy and a hint of nostalgia as memories of her cherished grandmother flooded her mind. They had always been inseparable and traveled together in their small town, so being in a different place without her felt uncomfortable for Honoka.

Lost in her thoughts of her grandmother's laughter and warm smile, Honoka was interrupted by a sudden knocking sound. Turning her attention towards the entrance, she called out, "Come in."

When the door opened, she was met with the sight of an attractive asian woman dressed in the uniform provided by the Mishima Zaibatsu. Honoka couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated by the woman's presence. "Miss Kimura, is it?" the woman inquired, her tone professional yet warm.

"U-Um, yes!" Honoka stuttered nervously, feeling a bit flustered. "That's me."

The woman smiled kindly, saying, "You are required to attend the introductory banquet of the King of Iron Fist tournament. Formal attire is mandatory."

'A-Ah! The pre-tournament entry event!' she stammered inwardly, covering her mouth in shock. 'I forgot that every tournament holds one. I came here this far, and I can't afford to miss it.' she panicked.

Taking a deep breath, Honoka composed herself and replied, "Alright, I'll be right down."

Honoka watched the woman nod and leave the room before quickly undressing out of her casual clothing. She watched as the woman nodded and exited the room, prompting Honoka to swiftly change out of her casual clothes. She rummaged through her luggage in search of something suitable to wear to the banquet at the Mishima Zaibatsu.

When it came to dressing in formal attire, Honoka's choice of clothing lacked sophistication in the eyes of many. In fact, she had completely forgotten to pack something suitable to wear for such events. To make matters worse, the only dress she managed to pack was a light blue strapless and puffy dress. The thought of standing out as the only one wearing such a frilly dress at a grand and formal event made Honoka cringe internally. She could already imagine the other attendees giving her strange looks because of her outfit choice, which would further damage her already tarnished reputation.

With a gulp, Honoka pulled out the dress. Its appearance was reminiscent of a prom dress, although it certainly wasn't formal attire. Nevertheless, it was conservative enough for her to wear to the event. Choosing not to dwell on it any longer, she put on the blue dress and paired it with blue strappy heels. She carefully slipped on a black glove adorned with a winking skull and crossbones logo on the back.

Honoka ran a brush through her salmon pink hair, carefully placed a blue flower headband on her head, and wrapped a matching choker around her neck.

Before leaving her hotel room, Honoka twirled around in front of the mirror several times, assessing her appearance. "Oooh... it looks so pretty. I hope I don't look too overdressed." she said to herself, adjusting her headband yet again. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her purse and headed towards the exit.

Honoka sat in the backseat of the cab, her eyes wide with wonder as she gazed out the window. With her hands pressed against the glass, she watched as the vibrant city passed by, feeling a rush of excitement. The neon lights and colorful billboards illuminated the night, transforming the city into a dazzling sight that reminded her of a cyberpunk universe. "It's so beautiful," she whispered.

Honoka, who grew up in Okinawa, had always been fascinated by the tales she heard about the bustling metropolis of Tokyo. The city's bright lights, towering skyscrapers, and vibrant energy seemed like a world far beyond her peaceful island life. Honoka's curiosity grew stronger each day, and she yearned to personally experience the wonders of Tokyo.

However, she soon realized that a luxurious trip to Tokyo could be quite costly, well beyond her modest means. Undeterred, Honoka devised an ingenious plan to turn her dream into a reality. Known for her resourcefulness and creative thinking, she firmly believed that where there was a will, there was a way.

Starting off, she diligently saved every portion of her allowance and set aside the yen she earned from her part-time job as a waitress. Despite the fact that it pained her greatly, she even sold some of her beloved figurines and plushies that she had cherished her whole life. Day in and day out, she tirelessly worked towards her objective, motivated by her unyielding determination.

"I've never seen so many lights before, it's truly breathtaking. I doubt anyone in this big town can remember how to find their way home. I really wish Grammy could be here to this," Honoka murmured to herself while the cab came to a stop. Paying the fare, she stepped out of the vehicle and found herself staring up in awe at the colossal building in front of her.

"So...is this where the tournament is being held?" Honoka whispered in amazement. "Wow, it's so massive. It must have taken ages for whoever built this."

Leaving her thoughts to herself, Honoka walked across the expansive courtyard of the Mishima Zaibatsu and headed towards the large hall where she heard the sounds of classical music playing.

Getting to the open main doors, Honoka entered the building and took in her surroundings. The hall was decorated in lights to show off the wealth and glamour the Zaibatsu held in its grasp. The appearance and the lavishing interior made her anticipate the large feast awaiting her stomach.

Honoka didn't care much for dancing and social gatherings. However, she always wanted to meet a few of her favorite fighters who repeatedly took part in the KOIF tournament.

As expected, there were a lot of fighters from around the globe attending the banquet. With this many people around her, she felt utterly lost and undersized by their large heights and bulky bodies. Slowly walking around the hall, Honoka tried to avoid carelessly colliding with individuals that almost filled the place with much effort.

Honoka took time to explore the place. Of course, the room they were all standing in was relatively wide, large, and well-proportioned. Two long-length tables on either side of the room contained trays of sustenance. Honoka couldn't help but gawk at the table full of food, her mouth nearly watering. As if fate itself understood her actions, a horrendous growl was heard from her abdomen to alert her of the need for food. Putting a hand to her stomach, Honoka let out a nervous chuckle.

"Weeell, speak of the devil..."

Walking towards the closest table, Honoka took her time scanning the food dishes that positioned themselves on the spread. "They all look so yummy! Oh! I just don't know where to start." A sigh escaped her lips, taking in the sweet aroma of the food. Not wanting to start the night on an empty stomach, the salmon-haired girl started contemplating her choice of food.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to the greatest competition on Earth, The King of Iron Fist Tournament 5." Sounded a voice over a radio system. "The most ferocious competitors from across the world..."

Despite how thunderous and precise the voice sounded, it fell dead on ears for Honoka nonetheless, for she was too busy gorging herself with food.

'There's so many people. They must be here for the tournament, too.' Of course, Honoka knew it didn't take a genius to understand the obvious. Her thoughts then drifted to the night she was nearly sexually assaulted.

Flashback

"T-The hell?! Just what the hell are you?!" he shuddered, trying to hurry away from her. Honoka examined her hand with both bewilderment and fear.

"W-What's going on? My fist is burning!" she shivered while examining her hand which continued to release red energy. "What's happening to me? S-So...it is real?"

End Flashback

"It's real," she concluded, her red orbs becoming serious. There's no mistake. Honoka wasn't just having weird nightmares as she thought. If she was being honest, her dreams didn't feel like regular dreams. Regular dreams that people could wake up from daily and go about their ordinary lives.

They felt evocative and futuristic at the same time. Sometimes, she would wake up from a dream mysteriously from the past and a dream seemingly in the future. A licensed doctor would tell her that it's normal for people to have these kinds of visions while sleeping, but it wouldn't be enough to put her at ease. Before placing her grandmother in the hospital, Honoka used to enjoy going to sleep at night to have dreams, whether they were normal or weird in a way. Some dreams were supposed to express happier feelings, sometimes intensely, with as much emotional clarity and vividness as any nightmare.

However, for Honoka, they felt like endless nightmares one after another, every day. Her dreams turned out to be part of her reality, which terrified her. The dream about her hand turned out to be real. After all, she also had to wonder if all of her other dreams would soon become part of her reality.

A shoulder then collided with hers, breaking through her train of thought. "~Heeey! Watch it.~" slurred a feminine voice. Honoka followed the voice to find an alluring young woman behind her. Her skin was beautifully fair, a beauty mark spotted near her right eye. A single red strand was buried in her green hair, bringing out her natural pale green eyes. A tint of pink was plastered on the cheeks of her face. She wore a deep blue strapless dress with matching arm gloves.

For a strange reason, Honoka felt like she recognized the woman from somewhere, but she couldn't figure it out. After taking a minute or two of examining her, the realization hit her hard like a solid rock.

"'Scuse me? You wouldn't happen to be...Tamaki?" Honoka questioned, curiously tilting her head.

She became even more uncomfortable when the green-haired woman merely narrowed her eyes at her through her drunken sight. "Yeeeah. That right." answered the green-haired beauty. "And just *hiccup* who are you?"

"It is you," Honoka confirmed, becoming a little excited about getting to meet a fellow fighter on the first night. "I knew I recognized you from somewhere. It's so nice to meet you! My name's Honoka. You were in the preliminaries for the last DEAD OR ALIVE tournament, right?"

The woman, now known as Tamaki, folded her arms and shot her a skeptical gaze through her drunken expression. "Y-Yessh. Care to explain how-"

"I was there too!" beamed the jubilant high school girl. "If you don't mind, I'd really like to train with you."

Right now, it was for the best. Honoka was already labeled a joke amongst the fighting community, so the last thing she needed was to make an enemy on the first night of the tournament.

Tamaki's eyes scanned Honoka leisurely through her intoxicated, yet sobered sight. Judging by her bubbly and childlike demeanor, it was very apparent to her that she was indeed a very young high school girl. But what really caught the drunken woman's eye was the girl's large bust nearly popping out of her dress. Although her baby face features were an immediate dead giveaway to the fact that she was a young girl, she couldn't help but notice she possessed a well-developed body of a mature woman.

"~Well, with a body certainly like yours, the steaks of you winning this tournament could be fairly high,~ " she said with a smirk, eying mainly her large breasts. "However, I suppose anything could be a weapon if you use it right."

Unfortunately, what Tamaki said would go entirely over Honoka's head, for she only gave her a perplexed stare. "Hmm?" she hummed, not understanding what she meant by it. "What do you mean?"

Tamaki raised an eyebrow in disbelief at her reaction. Typically, many girls would've been flushed with embarrassment over a sexual comment made about their bodies, but this girl reacted the complete opposite. "Seriousshly? Don't tell me you entered this tournament without some sort of strategy prepared," she said incredulously.

Honoka blinked in confusion for a couple of seconds before she perked up in realization. "O-Oh yeah, I do! My strategy is to make sure I train hard to win this tournament and get the prize money. I've got it all figured out." she proudly declared with sheer confidence.

Tamaki shook her head and chuckled at the girl's naivety. "~Honoka, darling. I fear to tell you that isn't exactly what I mean," she said with an amused smile. She then took a step closer to the young girl, closing whatever space there was between them. With unease, Honoka nearly recoiled from the woman's hand reaching out to her face, but chose to remain still. A soft gasp left her lips as Tamaki's slender fingers came in contact with her chin. Like a cat, Honoka found herself nearly leaning into her touch and rubbing her cheek against the palm of her hand. Her skin was soft and smooth like a baby's. She was so drowned in her thoughts that she barely noticed Tamaki tilting her head upwards to meet her face, their eyes boring into one another. "For starters, you have everything a man would want in a woman." she purred lowly, pulling her curvy body to her.

Honoka felt the heat rising through her face at her breasts touching Tamaki's. "M-Miss Tamaki...people are staring..." she stuttered, glancing at the participants from the corner of her eye.

"Such a pretty face," Tamaki murmured, her face inching towards Honoka's. The drunken woman's warm breath ghosted over her lips, the sweet scent of white wine filling her nostrils. "Perfect pouty and pink lips." she added, lightly gliding her finger along the dazed teen's lips.

"M-Miss Tamaki, you're...you're too-" Honoka's words abruptly came to a halt and then turned into a surprised cry at the sudden feeling of her derrière being grabbed and squeezed. "W-Wha-What are you doing?!"

"~Firm~." she purred again, giving her backside a tight squeeze.

A whistle was then heard, breaking their...conversation. "Whew! When did things start heatin' up in here?"

"AHEM!" A deep yet calming voice made itself heard, taking the attention away from the spicy treat for the eyes many had just witnessed. A man in his mid-forties with a cold, calculating look. One could tell he is American by the American flag pin on his butler suit. He had a tattoo on his neck that was halfway visible with a man about to throw a sword like a javelin. His grey hair came not from age but the stress that he endured in his line of work, or used to, before he retired and got hired by Mishima zaibatsu as head of security and the Tekken force.

"Hello, my name is Simon Wellston. I am your host for tonight's banquet and the 5th King Of Iron Fist tournament. I hope you will enjoy tonight's pleasantries. Also, Miss Aoki will please stop fondling Miss Kimura," Simon announced to the crowd while bringing attention back to Honoka and Tamaki.

"~Aww but it's so much fun messing with her~," says Tamaki, still fondling Honoka.

Most of the people at the banquet took their attention off the two but the rest who were taking in every second didn't dare miss a single moment.

"~See, if I lightly pinch here, you'll hear something amazing~," said Tamaki with a smile.

Tamaki lightly pinched Honoka's nipples and she let out a moan that would snap a lesser-minded person's sense of reason. However, Simon did not take kindly to Tamaki, disregarding him and continuing with her antics when he politely asked to stop. So like any host of the King Of Iron Fist, he walked towards Tamaki. He didn't say a word or show any hostile intentions.

As soon as he got in arm's length to Tamaki, Simon's first thrusts toward Tamaki's face. Despite how little time to react, Tamaki dodged with a hair's breadth of the distance between the two. Despite clearly not being sober, Tamaki can fight the best of them. A seductive smile appeared on her face while she stared into the cold eyes of Simon.

"~My my... It isn't brutish of someone of your stature to hit a lady?~" says Tamaki

"If I really wanted to strike you. We wouldn't be having this conversation," replied Simon.

"~Oh?~..." says Tamaki as she giggles a little.

"What's funny?" asked Simon.

"~Nothing... I like it when they play rough a little~" replied Tamaki.

The tension between the two people is so thick you can cut the air between them. Tamaki just sighed and sat down while muttering.

"~He just had to ruin my fun~..."

Simon turned to Honoka, who was a blushing mess. Simon moved his gaze to the poor girl. Honoka felt his gaze and stepped back a bit. Somewhat intimidated by Simon's presence, she bowed.

"I'm so sorry! I-I didn't mean for that to happen," Honoka says to Simon.

"Raise your head girl." replied Simon.

Raising her head, she again came into direct eye contact with Simon, who hadn't changed his facial expression since he first introduced himself.

"It's understandable of someone of your nature to fall prey for Miss Aoki's antics. May you enjoy the rest of your night Miss Kimura..."

With that said, Simon nodded his head toward Honoka and went along his merry way, conversing with the other guests at the banquet. An hour passed by, and many fighters and other invited guests conversed with each other. Some just showed plain hostility to each other, while others seemed chummy.

Honoka was too tangled in her thoughts that she barely heard a brash male voice calling out to her, trying to grab her attention.

"Yo, funbags!" loudly sounded a voice, bringing her back to reality. Turning her head in the direction of the voice, Honoka spotted a young man with a rather irritable yet bored expression. He was dressed in a black blazer, an unbuttoned leopard shirt underneath, and black trousers. His fiery red hair was slicked back, making her characterize him as one of those street punks she had a run-in with that night. Honoka shifted uncomfortably as his brown orbs roamed and explored her body, her bountiful breasts inevitably coming in his view. "Nice rack. Got plenty of milk stacked somewhere in there or somethin'?"

"Milk?" questioned a completely dumbfounded Honoka, innocently tilting her head to the side. "U-Um...no. I don't think I packed any to bring with me," she said, shaking her head. This earned a few chuckles from participants of the tournament. Poor girl was cartoonishly oblivious to the fact that the guy was hitting on her. Her lack of awareness of situations would easily put a target on her back for fighters who wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of that. "I can go look for a vending machine if you're thirsty." she offered, turning to walk away.

"That ain't what he meant." deadpanned a brash and tomboyish female voice. Honoka barely noticed a girl walking up beside her. She noticed that she was of Japanese descent with short street-styled hair and chocolate orbs. She wore a lacy-edged pink tank top under a vibrant yellow, fuzzy sleeveless tunic with orange "v"-shaped stripes with a red tartan short skirt over bright nylon orange stockings and black knee-high, shiny pointy-toed boots. "He's talkin' about your boobs, dummy."

Honoka's eyebrows furrowed, her pupils adverting from the girl to her enormous breasts. "M-My boobs? What about them?" she asked, touching them a bit.

The Japanese-Osaka girl shook her head with an exasperated sigh. "Are you dense? This knobhead's trying to make a pass at you by making pervy comments toward your boobs."

"Tch." shrugged the orange-haired fighter, crossing his arms as he threw a glare at the brown-haired girl. "Takes one to know one." He then turned his attention onto a bewildered Honoka. "And you...what're doing here, huh?" he interrogated, drawing closer to her. "There's gotta be some weird mix-up in you being here 'cause there's no way you got your invited to the King of Iron Fist tournament." he doubted, eying her suspiciously.

"Uh...I...um. It's for-" Honoka paused, desperately searching for another answer to give him other than the one she already had. To her surprise, she had entirely forgotten why she was here in the first place. Obviously, her grandmother was the reason why she was standing amongst other fighters right now. However, she had an unknown feeling that she was her for another reason. But she had difficulty figuring out what it was. "I-It's personal."

From afar, a sultry and curvy assassin was staring at Honoka, chatting with the taekwondo fighter she recognized from the third tournament and an unfamiliar-looking girl. She had eyes as if she had just found her long-lost toy. Who else could it be but Anna Williams?

The Irish brunette had eyes on the young fighter ever since she walked in. Tamaki, who she had a bit of fun with from time to time in the past, made a move on Honoka before she did, but Anna would have taken the more subtle approach. Not the full-blow sexual harassment Tamaki gave Honoka, or could it even be called that since the bubble-headed girl had not once complained during the entire altercation?

As there was all the time left in the world, Anna decided waiting a day before the start of the tournament would be perfect to approach her target before anyone else she knew would.

Her red-coated lips slowly stretched into a smile. "This should be interesting..."

To Be Continued