Jumper Without A Cause (Jumpchain Creative Mode)

So, I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, and now here it is. I’ll be using the "Creative Mode" put forward by cliff999 on SB. I’ll also be using other house rules noted in that post, namely the Body Mod, Warehouse and Shipyard replacements, as well as the rules for Gauntlets and Companions. You can lambast me for going “Easy Mode” if you like, though honestly Jumpchain is so trivial to exploit that you have to either just completely suck at making builds or impose your own limitations to not break the whole thing over your knee with ease just by picking the right Jumps and perks. This is more to let me build my character how I want than as a way of letting me take everything and stomp over every Jump.

And to that end, I’m including my own addition to this (though I’m sure someone out there has come up with something similar; feel free to point it out to me), which I call the Ring of Restraint. Despite the name, it only defaults to a ring; it can be any small accessory or item on your person, and can look like anything you’d like. On each Jump, you can mentally calibrate the Ring of Restraint to block your access to whatever perks and items you’d like while inside the Jump. Each time you recalibrate it, you can restrict perks/items from certain Jumps while keeping others, restrict all out-of-Jump perks/items, etc. Basically, you can pick and choose exactly what you can and can’t use in any given Jump.

However, the Ring of Restraint is purely a self-imposed challenge. The Jumper can remove the ring at any time (and can even remove it mentally in case they’re physically restrained), and once removed it cannot be put back on the Jumper against their will. The ring only works on its own given Jumper, and for anyone else is just a simple accessory. The Ring of Restraint cannot be sold, traded, or otherwise given away for one’s own gain; any prospective buyer will refuse it, no matter how valuable it looks or how good a salesman the prospective seller is, and if somehow taken from the Jumper without their consent it will simply appear on their person the next day.

Now then, for another little house rule: I’ll be using the same system that Whiteeyes on SB has for selecting Jumps in her own Jumpchain, namely using a list randomizer and picking my next Jump from among the 3 at the top of the list; the remaining 2 are no longer options until 3 jumps later.

Oh, and if I choose one that is a sequel to something else or otherwise has a “your history from this other thing carries over here,” I get to take that earlier one instead if I choose. Like, if I land Avatar: The Legend of Korra I can choose to take Avatar: The Last Airbender instead if I haven’t already.

Rolling for the first time, this gets me:

1. History’s Strongest Disciple Ken’ichi
2. Exalted (Dragon-Blooded)
3. Neon Genesis Evangelion

Well, that makes for an incredibly easy choice. Exalted and Eva are both a hard no for a first Jump. Badass martial arts adventure it is!

 

Just in case I need it. Maybe I'll put up a master list of perks and items and such.

 

https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B1qb0_OLhDrDQi1FNTdBOFh6bzg/view

Identity: Prodigy
Age: 1d8 (4) + 10 = 14
Gender: Male
Head and shoulders above other disciples, huh? Yeah, sign me up. I’d rather not start at the very bottom of the heap in this particular universe. At 14 I’ll be a bit younger than the other characters (that’s like… 2nd year middle school, right?), and given that pretty much none of the main characters are actually static in their growth I might be at a bit of a disadvantage. Really not regretting taking Prodigy now.

Starting Location: 1d8 (2) = Ryōzanpaku Dojo
Well… let’s hope I’ve been invited.


Martial Ethos: Katsujinken
Yeah, I’m not going to pick Satsujinken when I start smack-dab in Ryōzanpaku of all places, even if they probably wouldn’t do more than just throw me out. More to the point, the perk is better and it’s the one that actually makes sense to me, so why not?

Ki Method: Sei
Yeah, I’d rather keep a clear head in a fight to the death, crazy enough.

Arms: Weapons
“Hmm, shall I learn how to use tools like a proper human being, or try to punch every problem away like a damn caveman?” No, I don’t care that you can make it work in this universe, it’s still stupid to focus exclusively on one or the other. When it comes to practical martial arts, specialization is for insects.


Martial Arts

Arnis
Case in point, the martial arts of my people! Well, the martial arts of my maternal grandmother’s people. Trains both unarmed and with weapons, and many of the weapons its most famous for are stuff that you can get away with walking around with in most places, i.e. sticks and knives.

Kuntao
Southeast Asia is home to a lot of Chinese immigrants, most of whom are from several related Southern Chinese ethnic groups that speak the Southern Min dialect (which is very different from both Mandarin and Cantonese, and in fact isn’t mutually intelligible with either in spoken form); these immigrants are known as the Hokkien. The Hokkien brought many Chinese martial arts with them; mostly Southern styles, but some Northern ones as well; different groups in different places focus on different martial arts, and while some of them are mostly unchanged, several of them are conglomerations of several schools both Chinese and incorporating elements of styles like arnis and silat. This unique strand of Chinese martial arts is referred to as kuntao, which means “way of the fist.” And yeah, picking this as one option may be cheap of me, but canon gets away with grouping the entirety of Chinese martial arts under a single Master, so f*ck it I’m taking this. Armed and unarmed, duh.

Pencak Silat
Indonesian/Malay languages use “silat” in much the same away Filipinos use “arnis;” an umbrella term for many indigenous styles of fighting that can be said to fit into a specific national martial art. “Pencak silat” is the official term for the particular style of silat recognized in Indonesia as their own. Like arnis, it is both an armed and unarmed martial art. And according to martial arts luminary Dan Inosanto, arnis and silat complement each other well.

Yaw-Yan
Short for “Sayaw ng Kamatayan,” which means “Dance of Death.” It’s a martial art invented in the 1970s as a Filipino style of kickboxing rooted in unarmed techniques from arnis. The funny thing is, that combination has actually made it functionally very similar to muay thai. Not identical, of course, but similar. And if this seems incongruous with my earlier statement about strictly unarmed martial arts: that’s strictly regarding fights to the death, and I don’t intend all my fights to involve trying not to get stabbed.


Perks

Hidden Weapons
Why would you pick fighting styles that teach the use of small weapons that can be concealed and then not take this, even outside of Creative Mode?

Disciple’s Discipline
“Discipline” is not a word that anyone would ever use to describe me, so I’m going to need this to keep up with the insane training I’ll need to keep up.

Used to It
Much like my reasoning for taking Sei Ki. Flipping out or panicking is a quick way to die in a serious fight.

Ki Kneading
It’s presented as a major step toward becoming a Master, after all, so why skip out on it?

Seidō Gōitsu – LOCKED
Holy. Sh*t. This perk. Fifteen minutes before you’re at risk of dying? Ryūto couldn’t handle it for longer than thirty seconds after he wrecked himself overdoing it the first time. Mastering this let Ogata take out Cyril Rahman and put Agaard on the back foot at the same time. And I get fifteen minutes’ worth just like that? This wouldn’t be balanced even without Creative Mode.

Strength & Endurance
Speed & Agility
Perception & Awareness
The funny thing is, from reading the write-ups for these I get the impression that it’s basically hovering around the level of Miu for the bulk of the series; she busted up a car in one of her first appearances, after all.

Youth & Longevity
Sure, I’ll take a longevity perk that I can actually teach to people.

Enhanced Ki – LOCKED
That’ll be useful for later Jumps, but I think I’ve got enough advantages in the here and now.


Items

Money
¥1,000,000? That would be something like $8,000-9,000, which might be a bit suspicious for a 14-year-old to have sitting in his bank account. Guess I’ll put ¥50,000 on a debit card and keep the rest in cash.

Victory Medals
Sure, sounds fun.

“Sword”
Just as an aside, it doesn’t specify that the weapon has to be made of metal, so this is a good way to get “Secret of Steel” quality for a weapon that isn’t steel. Which doesn’t matter here, since despite it being contrary to what would actually be most useful, I’m going to pick an actual sword as my special weapon because f*ck it, swords are cool. Specifically, a kampilan. Yes, something like a bolo knife would be more practical and no, I don’t care.

Data Book
Wow, I almost forgot PDAs ever existed. If I pick a book, will it magically stay the same size, or is it going to grow into a massive library of its own? F*ck, it, I’ll take it.

Resistance Suit
For one, that means I get more free time since I don’t have to do dedicated strength training. It also means I’ll be able to do the DBZ “take off the weighted clothes” thing, which is always fun. And might actually be useful, given there are f*cking crazy Masters like Fortuna and Jenazad who have no problems kidnapping disciples who catch their eye; pulling punches might help keep me off of their radar.

Mesh Armor
Both Yami and Yomi have armed divisions, why the hell wouldn’t I take this? Even if they did only get shoved into the very end of the manga and get taken out like a bunch of mooks…

Koetsuji Training Apparatus MK-∞
Oh, that’ll be fun to train people with in future Jumps. Wow, I’m already planning on torturing people to make them stronger; no wonder all the Masters are such dicks.

Dojo
Sure, free sticks and padding and crap is nice.

Stretching Machine
Again, not personally useful, but something I can put to use later.

Secret of Steel – LOCKED
As useful as that will be, I’d rather not have to explain myself to Shigure.


Companions

Master x2
Given that I took 4 martial arts, 3 of which are very broad, might want to take more than one Master to teach me.


Drawbacks
None. All of them either just plain suck, and not in an interesting way (like “become a budding sex offender” and “show off your 14-year-old ass all the time”), or are just outright suicide for someone on their first Jump. Also, “everyone in the world suddenly wants to kill you” is such a lazy option for a Drawback.

 

I stop dead in my tracks and blink, as an entire lifetime of memories, feelings and experiences all this me at once. Normally, that’s the kind of thing that would render you comatose, but I just felt a bit of a headache.

My name is Kimura Inosanto Ensei*; as the name suggests, I’m very mixed ethnically, though that only actually comes up in my daily life when relatives visit from abroad or someone else tries to make a big deal of it. Wow, the more things change, huh?

“Something wrong, Ensei?” a wo… No, Mom asked me.

“Uh… no Mom, I’m fine. Just a bit of a headache,” I said, rubbing a temple with two fingers. “I’ll be fine.”

“Good, ‘cause we’re here!” Dad declared with a grin. “Ryōzanpaku, where gather those known far and wide as ‘the strongest’!”



Right, we’re here because Mom and Dad wanted to challenge the Masters of Ryōzanpaku to a fight. “I” was really sure they’d win, but now… yeah, they’re screwed unless it’s a 2-on-1, which they’d never agree to.

Dad dramatically throws open the big doors and strides into the… honestly kind of rundown-looking dojo. I guess they really did have money problems.

“Excuse me, but you should really knock before you just open the door like that,” admonished a blonde girl with a body that… no, not gonna go there, not gonna go there…

Spoiler

“Jesus,” I whispered under my breath.

“Don’t swear, boy,” Mom said sternly under her breath.

“Oh, sorry about that Miss, got carried away,” Dad said sheepishly. “Wanted to really have some flair, you know?”

“Hello, young lady. Are the masters of this dojo home?” Mom asked sweetly.

The girl – Fūrinji Miu – tapped her finger with a chin in thought. “Hmm… Grandpa’s on a trip somewhere, Sakaki is out playing pachinko, and Akisame went to do a guest lecture at the university, but I think the other three haven’t run off anywhere yet. Do you mind having some tea while I find out? Just enter your name, address and dojo in the notepad on the table, okay?”

---X---

‘This tea’s not that good,’ I thought to myself while we waited around the table, bored. Dad was getting antsy from sitting around, but Mom was the picture of composure.

“Ugh, how big can this place possibly be?” Dad complained, causing Mom to roll her eyes.

“Okay, I’m back!” Miu called out. “Sorry about that; it was really hard to find Shigure. Here are the three fighters available!”

Behind here there was:

A two meter tall, bronze-skinned giant of gleaming muscle. Apachai Hopachai, the “Grim Reaper of Muay Thai.”

Spoiler

A diminutive, middle-aged man in Chinese garb who was looking at Mom with a face that made me want to deck him. Ma Kensei, the “Master of All Chinese Kenpō.”

Spoiler

A young woman who… who…

Spoiler

(This is one of the least pornographic images of her you will ever see)

“Sweet salty Christ!” I exclaimed under my breath. “Ow!”

“I told you not to swear!” Mom said as I rubbed the back of my head.

“So, these are the three fighters available!” Miu said, waving a hand as if to present them. “The going rate is ¥10,000 per fight, but for an extra ¥10,000, you can fight each of the masters in succession until one side runs out of fighters.”

“Wait, we have to pay!? I thought dojo challenges were a matter of honor!” Dad exclaimed.

“I’m sorry, but we receive so many challenges that there’s really no other way,” Miu recited, as if she’d rehearsed the line.

“Well, I guess you have to spend money to make money,” Mom said with a sigh. “We could use the publicity, after all. Put us down for one fight each.”

“Great! Now, which opponents would you like to fight?” Miu asked.

“Well, if the ‘100-dan Brawler’ available, then put me down to fight the ‘Grim Reaper of Muay Thai’!” Dad declared, punching his fists together in excitement.

“Oh! You mean me, right!?” Apachai said, pointing to himself with childlike enthusiasm.

Mom tapped her chin thoughtfully before answering. “Okay, so I guess that leaves me with ‘the Master of All’-”

“Weapons! She’ll fight the ‘Master of All Weapons’!” I declared firmly, giving the middle-aged Chinese man a glare.

“Are you sure? Shigure really doesn’t hold back all that well,” Ma Kensei said, rubbing his hands together. “Such a lovely lady really deserves a more gentle opponent-”

“She fights… me,” Shigure said, quietly and slowly, but with an authority in her voice that Kensei knew better than to challenge.

“Yes, definitely fighting Shigure,” Miu said firmly as she scribbled in a notepad. “No takebacks, no refunds, no second thoughts. Now, just come this way and we can-”

“Oh, one question first,” Mom said. “It’s 10,000 for a Master, right? So what’s it cost to fight you?”

Everyone reacted with shock at that question. After the initial surprise, Kensei suddenly put a hand to his hat, his expression growing serious. “And why would a Master-class fighter like you want to know that, exactly?” he asked, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“Because I’ve decided to book an extra fight,” Mom said, with a smile that was so much like Dad’s that I knew it was time to feel afraid. “This girl against my son, Ensei.”

“… Come again?” I asked, as the room was silent for a moment.

All the tension in the room simply evaporated like a morning mist. “Oh, is that all?” Kensei said with a chuckle. “Well, might as well throw that one in for free! It’ll be a valuable learning experience for them both, I’m sure.”

“More for him than… her,” Shigure spoke up. “We should… charge a little.”

“Miu’s going to defend the dojo with us? That sounds fun!” Apachai chimed in loudly.

“Oh! That’s genius, Dear!” Dad yelled dramatically, slamming his fist down on the table just hard enough not to damage it. “Oh, you’re going to need to strip down for this fight, son. Don’t worry, you’ve got permission!”

“… C-come again?” Miu replied, looking both confused and kind of creeped out.

“Oh, thank God!” I exclaimed, quickly pulling off my shirt to reveal the Restraint Suit. You really don’t think about what a pain having enough resistance against your every movement to put your strength, speed and agility at 50% until you actually walk around like that for a while. Even sitting here drinking tea was a workout!

“Never mind. Might be… close enough to… make it free,” Shigure said as I started taking the thing off. “Hard to tell.”

“Wow. That look like real pain,” Apachai noted. “Look like something Akisame would make.”

“Heh, it does at that, doesn’t it?” Kensei noted with a chuckle. “That’s some intense training you’re putting your son through. From one Master to another, I approve!”

“Okay, I’m ready,” I said. I was feeling… Okay, I’m pretty sure I’m the underdog here, but at least I’d be fighting at 100% here. Well, not actually 100%, since we’d probably be doing this barehanded, but still.

“Excellent!” Kensei declared. “Then let the 3-on-3 match between Ryōzanpaku Dojo and the Southern Martial Forest Dojo** begin!”

-x--X--x- (What follows is all out-of-story stuff. Footnotes, basically)

*“Kimura” is just a typical Japanese surname. Many people in the Philippines use the Spanish naming tradition of the mother’s maiden name becoming the middle name of her children, which is where “Inosanto” comes from. No relation to Dan Inosanto, of course.

“Ensei” is actually a little complicated. Japan uses more than one alphabet to write its language; kanji are Chinese characters, and comprise the bulk of Japanese writing. Hiragana is the actual Japanese syllabary and is essentially an alphabet, which fits the Japanese language much better than Chinese, but is used almost entirely for concepts and grammar that don’t parse with Chinese. Katakana is like hiragana, except used exclusively for foreign words; don’t ask me why they felt they needed a whole other alphabet for that.

What this comes out to is that most Japanese writing uses Chinese characters, but when spoken, Japanese and Chinese are completely different, and Chinese contains a lot of sounds that don’t exist in Japanese. So, when reading Chinese (as opposed to kanji; yes, I know it’s weird), Japanese use their own version of the pronunciation, and for whatever reason, for hundreds of years they’ve decided that it sounds really fancy and cool to use these Japanese pronunciations of the “Chinese pronunciation” of the Chinse characters that make up their name. I guess it’s a lot like the way a medieval German guy named Karl would call himself Carolus to sound all educated and Latin and whatnot.

Basically every Chinese character in the manga History’s Strongest Disciple Ken’ichi, BTW, is also referred to using the azana of their Chinese names; Ma Kensei doesn’t have that blatantly Japanese name because the author is ignorant of Chinese, it’s simply how a Japanese person who can’t speak Chinese would read the characters of his name, “Ma Jianxing.” His daughter, Ma Renka, is “Ma Lianhua.” It’s kind of inconsistent, too; the “Ma” there should be “Ba” in azana, but isn’t, I guess for aesthetics or something.

So what is the name “Ensei” an azana of? Well, here’s one more example of azana: the very name of “Ryōzanpaku” is actually the azana of Liangshan Marsh, the meeting place and home base of the 108 Stars of Destiny in the classic Chinese novel Water Margin. Only fitting, then, that I, who chose the Prodigy identity, would take the name of “Yan Qing the Prodigy.”

**The “martial forest” is the literal meaning of the Chinese term “Wulin,” which refers to the fellowship of martial artists within the wider “Jianghu,” the world that exists within and alongside the normal world of farmers, soldiers and kings, but separate from it, with its own hierarchies and powerful figures.

So the “Southern Martial Forest” is essentially a statement of being part of a “wulin” south of China (and by extension Japan and Korea); the unique martial arts of the islands of South Asia tend to get ignored in favor of those of China, Japan and Korea, though in recent years their martial arts like muay thai and arnis have been getting more global attention. Plus, while there are several Northern styles, most of the Chinese martial arts that have helped influence the development of countless Asian martial arts, including both silat and arnis, are primarily Southern styles, many of which claim descent from the mythical Southern Shaolin Temple. “The South reclaiming its place in the Martial Forest,” you could almost say.

Why yes, I am being a massive wuxia fanboy right now. What of it? You're just lucky I've managed to go this long without a lecture about how awesome Dan Inosanto is.

 

“Well, it’s not like this is a huge surprise, but I’m still kind of disappointed,” Mom said glumly, resting one hand on her cheek while the other held up her shredded blouse as Miu found something to replace it with. Shigure had a few small cuts and holes in her own clothes, but otherwise, both were unharmed despite having just dueled with razor-sharp weapons. I guess that’s the kind of self-control that a Master-class follower of Katsujinken who uses lethal weapons has to develop.

Dad didn’t come out of his fight quite so clean. Apachai’s lack of self-control and Dad’s own hard-headedness meant that neither of them got away unscathed, though again our side was the one that came away worse for wear.

“Well, it was still a lot of fun, right?” Dad asked, keeping a positive tone despite the fact that Ma Kensei was in the process of putting his badly-broken leg back into place and wrapping it up, and the fact that his face was too bruised and swollen to give his usual smile. “That’s worth plenty, right?”

“Depends, are you going to use that learning experience to pay the medical bills you just racked up?” Mom replied sharply, before rubbing her forehead in frustration. “Sorry honey, that wasn’t fair. But we came here to drum up business, remember? If we come away from this challenge like this, then as far as everyone else is concerned we’re no different from all the other wannabes that challenge Ryōzanpaku, and that won’t really do anything to get us new students.”

“Probably should have waited until we gathered up some people willing to witness the fight,” I pointed out. At least then, even though we’d lost, people could have spread word that it was an actual fight, not the usual curbstomps this dojo dealt out.

Dad winced, though some of that may have been the pain. “Sorry about that, you guys. I guess I got too excited.” Mom hadn’t wanted to do this challenge first thing, but, well, Dad knew some of these guys by reputation, and this just wasn’t something he could bring himself to put off. “I messed things up again, huh?”

“No, you not mess up yet! Challenge still going!” A;achai said encouragingly, giving a thumbs-up with the swollen, broken thumb of his right hand. “Fights between disciples count just as much as any others!”

“He’s… right. If your student wins, the record is… 2-1. That’s… never happened,” Shigure pointed out.

“Oh, true. Winning one out of three isn’t bad at all,” Kensei piped up as he finished up his patch job on Dad; bone-setting, as he’d explained, was Akisame’s specialty rather than his own, and since he’d be getting back from his lecture fairly soon, he’d offered to handle the worst of it now and let his colleague handle the rest once he got back for no extra charge.

“It looks like your dojo’s honor, and finances, rests on your shoulders, young Ensei,” he continued with a small smile. “Make sure to give it your all!”

“Oh, good. No pressure, right?” I muttered, shaking my head.

“I’m back!” Miu announced, stepping into the room with an oversized t-shirt. “Here you go, Mrs. Kimura. Sorry it took so long.”

“Oh, no, thank you for getting it,” Mom said with a smile. “I’ll just step out for a minute to change, then we can start your match with Ensei, alright?”

“Oh, I don’t think you need to-” Kensei began, before he was silenced by glares from everyone in the room (except Apachai) and held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay! Can’t blame a man for trying, can you?”

“Can and did, old man,” I grumbled as Mom walked out. “And I’m sure your wife and children would agree, if they weren’t busy leading the Phoenix Sect in your place.”

He at least had the decency to look ashamed at that. “Well, just go right for the jugular, why don’t you?” he complained as he readjusted his hat.

As Mom stepped back in, the shirt… mostly protecting her modesty, more stretched than I was remotely comfortable with, I turned to Miu. “Miu, about the rules for this fight. Are you willing to allow weapons, or do you want this to be strictly barehanded?”

“Oh, take after your mother more than your father, do you?” Kensei asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Yep! Lil’ Ensei’s got a lot more than my sweetie’s amazing brains, he’s got her touch with weapons, too!” Dad declared proudly, giving a wide grin despite the pain of it making his eyes water.

“Oh, honey, stop that!” Mom said in a tone not unlike a lovestruck schoolgirl, dropping down to the floor to wrap her arms around him. “Ensei has your talent for mano mano*, too! And your dashing good looks.” Dad’s grin turned distinctly goofy through his pained wince as Mom nuzzled him.

“Ugh. You know what? Skip the fight, just punch me out right now and end this,” I said to Miu, only to notice that she was looking on at my parents act like gooey-eyed teenagers with something dangerously close to admiration.

“Wow, they’ve been together so long and they’re still so in love!” Miu sighed dreamily. “That’s so inspiring!”

“The novelty wears off very quickly,” I replied blandly. “Look, weapons or no weapons? Because the longer I see this, the more tempting it’ll be to just take it to the head and hope for a concussion.”

“Oh, right. I don’t mind if you use weapons; Grandfather gave me plenty of training in that,” Miu replied distractedly. You know, if I didn’t know enough about her to know that she could probably back it up, that attitude would kind of piss me off.

“Oh, I’m not quite sure we should sign a blank check on that, Miu,” Kensei piped up. “As the referee, I’d really rather not explain any unfortunate accidents to the Elder, and with the level of skill the two of you are at right now, I don’t think young Ensei will be able to seriously fight you the way his mother and Shigure did. Ensei, what weapons exactly are you suggesting you use?”

From within the recesses of my clothes I pulled out a pair of… well, “eskrima sticks” is the term most people are likely to be familiar with. The term “Kimura Ensei” is familiar with is baston**.

“Well, I’m not about to whip out a sword or something to fight a friendly spar,” I said as I gave the two-foot-long sticks a quick twirl. “Not that these are exactly harmless, but…”

“Oh, eskrima’s famous doble baston, eh?” Kensei noted, stroking his chin. “It’s funny, I don’t think I’ve ever fought someone using that.”

“I have!” Apachai called out excitedly. “Special matches sometimes in Thailand underground! Crowd really liked it when I won those!”

“Yeah, I’ll bet they did,” I noted dryly. Seems like every country just eats it up when their local style beats a foreign one, even if they aren’t especially hostile to that country, or even if they don’t usually care much about martial arts. Especially when muay thai is involved; it’s sort of seen as the “style to beat” in some circles, so Thai fighters can be rather protective of its prestige.

It’s an attitude I’ve never really been able to get behind or understand, but hey, what do I know?

“Well, so long as you both practice discretion, I don’t see any reason to refuse your request, Ensei,” Kensei said with a nod. “Miu, do you mind?”

“No, I can handle it,” Miu said with total confidence as she took her stance.

My thoughts started racing as I took my own stance, looking for any detail, however small, that might give me an advantage.

Her stance alone told me that I couldn’t rely on exploiting the gaps that tend to accrue in a singular, orthodox style, though her background already left me expecting that; her own style was just as much a mélange of various styles as mine. Of course the “Invincible Superman” would know better than that when he was training her.

More to the point, looking at the way she positioned herself, it was like a bird ready to leap into flight… or perhaps a tigress about to pounce.

“Let the final match… begin!” Kensei announced.

Instantly, Miu sprang forward, a spin in midair building force and momentum in a rolling axe kick that could probably crack pavement.

If I couldn’t harden my baston with ki, it would have been kindling in my hands when I blocked her kick with it, and even then, I had a brief moment of panic as her momentum was only stopped just short of my shoulder.
That panic didn’t stop me from responding; in the same blink of an eye that I blocked her initial strike, my second baston shot upward, aimed right for her chin, presented at the perfect angle.

Too slow. The jab whiffed just past her face as she fell back as if on a hinge, her other leg following the flow of that movement to rise up and kick me straight in the jaw, with both arms committed.

As -shock- rattled my brain, all thought and even sight fled from me for a moment as her foot connected with my chin. Even pain was a distant thing, lost in an overwhelming ringing in my ears.
I stayed on my feet, kept my grip on my weapons, but it was a near thing as I staggered blindly backward.

With a quick backflip, Miu was on her feet and ready to rush forward and finish the fight if need be. An axe-hand strike in a wide circling movement, aimed at the side of the neck, ready to finish me off before I could even get my senses back-

“Urgk!” she choked out, as a baston drove deep into her torso, driving air from her lungs, while the other deflected her hand long before it could reach me.

I was sturdier than other disciples she fought, and adding two feet to your reach can make all the difference.

Her footwork was amazing; with just the force of my blow and her own position, she transferred the energy from her attempted lunge into a backward jump to get the space to recover, still coughing and sputtering.
‘How do you even develop a skill like that?’ I’d find myself wondering later.

“Oh, very nice, you two!” I dimly heard Kensei call out.

A split second was all the time Miu needed to recover, and she immediately shifted her stance. Higher, looser, less pounce and more flow.

Shit.

I shifted myself. Low, coiled like a snake, arms loose but ready. It could come from anywhere.

She moved, and that confirmed it. Circles. Seemingly small, circular steps that somehow ended with her at my left side and inches away in a blink.

Silat expects an attack from all directions, from all positions.

As her leg swept at me, I lunged, not up, but down, at her exposed leg, dropping to the ground to dodge and knock her down.

A leap; even with one leg, she launched herself back and out of range, back on her feet immediately.

‘It’s like she can fly.’

And here I was, lying on the ground. Not prone, not helpless. Not ideal, either. Easy to fix.

A quick twist, I was almost sitting, legs crossed. Another quick twist, the legs were straightened out, and I was on my feet, weapons ready.

Bagua knows circles and rotations, but it’s far from the only one.

She tried again. Walking the circle, gaining strength while looking soft, fast while looking slow.

Bagua moves in circles; arnis moves in triangles. The legs never cross each other; feet are two points of a triangle, and any step made completes it.

I completed the triangle; like a wedge, cutting her off before she could build power. She wasted the energy built up to turn, spin into a kick to the side.

Another triangle; stepping back at an angle, make the most of the range advantage and moving with the force. The circle’s force is wasted, her kick knocked aside with a strike from the stick that probably bruised the bone.***

Circles aren’t everything; she moves around her own attack, hooking a leg around the stick to draw me off-balance and whip out with a knee to the face.

We both know what most weapon users are like, the really serious ones. They devote themselves to their chosen weapon, rely on it. It’s an extension of their heart as much as their arm. Instincts won from long experience tell her that, inform this tactic. Use their dependence against them. She’s done it before; it always works.

And if this wasn’t just a fancy stick to me, it might work now. Her eyes widen as I do the unthinkable, and let go. Her knee loses some momentum, but to make sure I drop my head so it impacts the top of the forehead; the hardest part of the skull. I’m going to have a hell of a headache later.

At the same time her blow connects, my remaining baston strikes her temple, and I throw my weight forward to knock her onto her back, dazed and insensate, but already struggling to get up.

A falling knee to the stomach fixes that.

---X---

The next day, I rub my head as the vestiges of the headache still bother me. Akisame and Kensei said it would be fine, and the latter gave me some Chinese herbal stuff to blunt the worst of it, but it was still a bad start to my first day of school.

Well, at least my parents had decided to “reward” me by letting me go the day without the harness.

I didn’t pay attention as the teacher introduced me, and gave my name and some bland pleasantries on autopilot. It wasn’t until I caught a name that I paid attention.

“Honoka Shirahama is in the seat next to you. As she’s the class representative, feel free to-”

Spoiler

I stared openly, first for a second, then several. Silence descended, and she started getting a flustered look.

“Ooh, does the new kid have a cr-”

“You’re fourteen!?”**** I exclaimed in disbelief, cutting off… whoever was saying that.

Instantly, the silence turned into chuckles, even a few actual laughs, but also an indignant “Hey!” from the diminutive girl, who threw a pink bunny eraser at me that I dodged on reflex.

“Don’t just yell out things like that about a delicate young lady!” she exclaimed hotly.

“Oh, this bodes well for the rest of the year,” the teacher said wearily.

-x--X--x-

*“Mano Mano” is a recognized term for unarmed combat in most systems of arnis (just about everything in arnis has about a thousand different regional names, including the name “arnis” itself). Centuries of Spanish occupation mean that the Spanish language pervades Filipino language and culture, including in a lot of arnis terms.

**It just means “cane,” BTW, though it’s also somewhat recognized as a specific term for them, given they’re probably what arnis is most famous for. That said, most systems of arnis train for a lot more than just wielding two sticks; baston are used not just as weapons themselves but also as training tools for using swords or daggers, and can be wielded singly or in conjunction with a sword or knife as well as in pairs. Of course, using two weapons is the standard assumption in arnis, and is the first thing a student learns; fighting with a single weapon and with bare hands is usually learned afterward as an extension of fighting with two weapons. This is a bit unusual for Eastern martial arts, especially nowadays.

***That’s not hyperbole; for training, arnis practitioners usually use thin, flexible rattan canes that usually don’t do more than sting a bit unless something goes wrong. Traditionally, though, you use charred hardwood that can break bones.

****I genuinely didn’t know that until I checked the wiki, and did in fact react with a “WTH.” I mean, anime, sure, but still. I always thought she was like 8 years old, not a year or two younger than Ken’ichi himself.

AN: No, I didn’t neglect to give Ensei’s parents names. The dad is Kimura Nisshin, the latter being the on’yomi reading of his actual, Chinese give name: Sunxin, which is a reference to Water Margin just like Ensei’s name is. The mom is Kimura Inosanto Josefina (which, if she were still in the Philippines, would be flipped into Western order, thanks to all the Western influence in that country); in the Philippines, it’s common for a woman’s maiden name to become her middle name, and “Inosanto” is a reference to all-around martial arts great and national treasure, Dan Inosanto, a.k.a. the guy who, among countless other things, taught Bruce Lee how to use nunchaku, while Josefina is… well, just a name that you might find in the Philippines. Nisshin is Japanese/Han Chinese, while Josefina is Filipina/Hokkien Chinese.

 

“… and last night when he came home he looked worse than ever! It looked like he’d been beaten up!” Honoka exclaimed.

Apparently, my being seated next to her for about three weeks meant that I was the perfect person to vent her problems to during the lunch break.

I took my eyes away from my cutting-edge Gameboy Advance* at that, having mostly ignored her rant about how her brother didn’t spend enough time with her (and seriously, what kind of 14-year-old wants to spend more time with their older siblings?), until it morphed into her complaining about him coming back dirty and weary from “some sketchy dojo.” Which could only mean once place, of course.

“Hey, are you spacing out on me, Ensei?” Honoka asked. “Come on, this is serious!”

“If it’s so serious, then why don’t you just go to the address on the map you translated for him and see what’s happening, instead of complaining to me?” I asked.

“You can’t expect a defenseless young woman like me to just waltz up to some place I don’t even know in a place of town I’ve never been to!” Honoka exclaimed. “Haven’t you seen the news? There’s been all kinds of gang activity happening recently!”

“That’s… a good point,” I admitted. I’d never really thought of it while reading the manga, but there were a whole lot of teenage delinquents and flat-out gangsters in this city, weren’t there? Like, a whole lot of them, given the kind of numbers Ragnarok eventually had.

“But then, I don’t think I’ve heard anything super-sketchy about that part of town, so it might not be too unsafe,” Honoka continued, sounding thoughtful. “Hey, you’re really good at martial arts, right? Like, practical self-defense and junk?”

“I did mention that in my class introduction, yes,” I said, already knowing where this was going.

“Perfect! You can be my bodyguard, then! And if someone is trying to get the better of my too-pure-for-his-own good brother, I might need your help in rescuing him!” Honoka exclaimed.

“I notice I apparently don’t get a say in this,” I pointed out. I fully intended on going, of course, but I couldn’t just cave to the demands of a 14-year-old girl without putting up some token resistance.

---X---

And token it was, since once school was done the two of us, being fine and upstanding members of the Go-Home Club**, immediately set out for our destination, which we reached without incident.

“Whoa, what is this place?” Honoka asked as we stood in front of the huge double doors.

“This is Ryōzanpaku, home to some of the strongest martial artists in the world,” I explained. “You know, if you’d told me where the address was, I could have saved us both the walk over here.”

Not that I wasn’t glad to have the excuse.

“Wait, you know about this place?” Honoka asked.

“Yeah, the first thing we did when we moved here and opened up our dojo was to challenge these guys as a way to drum up some business,” I explained.

Which hadn’t really panned out so far, unfortunately. Somehow, even a lot of people interested in the martial arts in this town didn’t know Ryōzanpaku or their reputation, so claiming that we’d won a single match out of three didn’t strike prospective students as super impressive. Add to that, after Mom started worrying about our finances, Dad had decided to put his all into trying to attract new students, and his “enthusiasm” scared away all the potential students who were just casually interested in picking up some martial arts for self-defense or health reasons.

I’d thought of just giving them the ¥1,000,000 I’d been handed through the Jumpchain, but I couldn’t really think of a way to explain how I’d gotten it. Tell them the truth? No. Tell them I’d found it? They’d turn it in to the cops and it’d be months before we’d be allowed to keep it when no one showed up to claim it. Assuming that stuff even applies when it’s that much money.

What I really needed to do was get us some students to secure a steady income.

“Rrrr, come on!” Honoka exclaimed, snapping me out of my thoughts. She was trying to open up the doors.

“You’re gonna pull something if you keep doing that,” I told her. “Those doors are too heavy for most grown men to budge. Besides, you should really knock first.”

Before Honoka could reply, the doors were suddenly thrown open, and a bronze-skinned giant of a man with arms thicker than Honoka’s waist stared down at us in silence.

Then he grinned at me, his face lighting up like a small child. “Hi, Ensei! You’ve done well to come this far, but now you must face me!” he said cheerfully.

I tilted my head at his greeting. “Did you… hear someone in a movie say that when he opened a door?” I asked. I seem to recall him answering the phone with some variant of “Your child’s life is in my hands,” and Japanese is a second language to him. Wait, he’s from Thailand, so…

“You know Japanese better, or Chinese?” I asked in Hokkien. When Apachai frowned, trying to parse what I was saying, I repeated the question in Teochew.***

“Oh! Been a long time since I used it; really rusty,” Apachai explained. “Trying to practice Japanese, anyway. More useful in Japan.”

“That’s fair,” I said with a shrug. “My Chinese is worse than your Japanese, anyway.”

“… Wait, where’s Honoka?” I asked, noticing that she wasn’t in sight anymore.

“The girl who was with you? She ran in while we were talking,” Apachai said. “Is she your friend?”

“She’s a classmate,” I explained. “She came here because her brother’s been coming here and come back beat up and exhausted, so she wants to find out what’s going on.”

“Oh, you mean Ken’ichi!” Apachai exclaimed. “They have the same hair!”

“Oh, you mean the way it starts off straight but kind of flips outwards at the ends?” I asked as we walked into the dojo grounds.

Before Apachai could respond, a girl’s shriek cut the air. Hurrying to the source of the sound, we saw Honoka lying on the ground unconscious, a look of horror on her face. The reason for that…

Well, seeing your older brother like that would freak anyone out. Shirahama Ken’ichi was “training,” if you’re generous enough with that word to involve torture devices.

Ken’ichi had been forced to assume the Horse Stance****, and he wasn’t able to get out of it thanks to his feet being tied to the wooden board he was standing on and ropes tied to his legs so he couldn’t straighten them out. To keep him from collapsing or sitting down, there was a small pot of hot sand with a burning incense stick stuck into it that would burn him if he sat; the pot had “Mind” written on it. Attached to both hands were nigiri game – heavy ceramic jars filled with sand and gripped around the lip – which were meant to strengthen the arms, back, shoulders and fingers. Beneath each jar was a boiling kettle on a small burner to keep Ken’ichi from letting the jars go or relaxing his arms, since they would quickly heat up the jars and burn his fingers. One jar had “Spirit” written on it, the other “Effort.” To further keep him from lowering his arms, leather straps had been attached to his upper arms with small spikes attached that would prick his sides. On top of all that, three small bowls of rice had been placed on him for him to balance – one on each leg, and another on top of his head, with “Endurance” written on it.

Despite all that, his attention was on his passed-out little sister, looking on with a worried expression as Akisame checked her to make sure she hadn’t hurt herself with her faint.

“Uh… far be it for me to question the wisdom of the Masters, but is this really a training regimen for a guy who’s been training for, like, a month tops?” I asked.

“I assure you, I’m keeping a very close eye on the state of his body, and adjusting the time he spends in this position to make sure no harm comes to him that can’t quickly be repaired,” Akisame said reassuringly from where he was checking Honoka’s pulse.

“No damage?” Ma Kensei asked, tapping his foot against Honoka’s shoe as soon as Akisame nodded at him. Somehow, this jolted Honoka awake, as she bolted upright with a shocked look.

“Ken’ichi! Hold on bro, I’ll get you out of here!” she said, jumping to her feet and running over to her brother to try to untie him from the makeshift contraption.

“Honoka, I told you not to follow me here,” Ken’ichi said, with a sigh that he quickly regretted, as he relaxed his arms and caused the spikes on his arms to jab at his sides. “Ah!”

“It seems we’ll need to cut this portion of his training short today to have this conversation,” Kensei noted.

---X---

We all sat around the table with some tea and snacks as Ken’ichi and Akisame explained the hows and whys of his deciding to take the lessons at Ryōzanpaku of his own will. I think Honoka only heard every third word, what with how much time she spent glaring at Miu as she bustled around playing host. For her part, Miu was too busy gushing over how “cute” Honoka was to notice.

“Oh, so you got your ass kicked by this ‘Tsukuba’ guy, not in training,” I noted. I’d actually forgotten about the guy, so I had the impression his issues with Ragnarok started immediately after he kicked that Daimonji guy’s ass.

“Yeah, I completely fell apart,” Ken’ichi admitted with a sigh. “And if it weren’t for the training I’ve already had, he probably would have broken something.”

“Well, on the plus side, Sakaki is willing to give you some valuable advice on fighting karateka,” Akisame noted. “… Assuming he hasn’t forgotten completely and is just wasting his time playing pachinko again.”

“My turn!” Apachai exclaimed, running into the room with the enthusiasm of a little kid on his way to Disneyland. “My turn to train Ken’ichi!”

“Oh, so it is,” Akisame said with a frown and a glance at the clock. “Hmm, I’ll have to readjust the schedule a little bit to make up for lost time…”

“O-oh, great, muay thai training, yay…” Ken’ichi said with a weak smile, shaking in dread.

‘I see Ken’ichi’s already witnessed Apachai’s inability to manage his strength,’ I thought to myself, thinking back to his fight with Dad. In this life and my previous, that was by far the most brutal-looking fight I’d ever witnessed. Even the other Masters had been exasperated about it, which had given me an idea.

“Apachai, your muay thai training is really heavy on sparring, isn’t it?” I asked.

“That’s right! Only right way to teach muay thai, is what my master said!” Apachai affirmed, giving a thumbs up. His smile faded a little as he continued. “Hard to hold back, though. But I can do it this time!”

“Maybe it’ll help if Ken’ichi has a sparring partner who isn’t, uh, quite so far above his level?” I suggested.

“We tried, but Ken’ichi not want to hit Miu, and Miu’s fighting style too different to give him experience with muay thai,” Apachai recounted, now frowning.

“Well, yaw-yan isn’t quite like muay thai, but it’s probably close enough that I could help him with that if I just stuck to that,” I pointed out.

“Oh! That is a good idea, Ensei,” Akisame said with a nod. “A sparring partner who isn’t quite so… far above Ken’ichi will probably make his training sessions with Apachai much more productive.

‘And less likely to kill him’ was the unspoken addendum.

---X---

“So, Ensei, right?” Ken’ichi asked as we stood across from each other, with Apachai adjusting Ken’ichi’s stance and explaining the reasoning behind it.

“Yeah. Nice to meet you,” I said, taking a stance fairly close to the traditional muay thai stance: head-on with Ken’ichi, rather than slanted to one side, arms held high with the elbows flared slightly out, standing mostly straight with hips squared, using small movements to constantly shift my weight between each foot.****

“Nice to meet you, too,” he said as Apachai stepped away. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“What, right now?”

“How do you know Honoka?” he asked, his expression serious.

I stared at him for a second as he stared me down. I tried to keep it in, but I couldn’t help it and smirked a little. “Are… are you trying to play the intimidating big brother with me?” I asked, trying hard to keep from chuckling.

“No. I’m just asking what you are to my sister,” he said calmly, but his eyes were hard.

“Kick butt, big bro!” Honoka called out. Ken’ichi had given some speech or something I hadn’t paid attention to, and now she was willing to accept him training here. Something about courage, or something.

“Uh… we’re starting, now,” Apachai said, sounding a little confused as we stared each other down.

“Okay, please stop trying to be intimidating, it’s gonna make me crack up right here,” I said with a cocky smirk. I knew I was being an asshole here, but even before I got dropped into this setting I’m pretty sure I could have kicked his ass, even at the age I was now. The manga had not done justice to how scrawny he looked.

“You have to actually start hitting each other for this to be training,” Apachai said.

“Ken’ichi, Ensei, come on!” Honoka exclaimed.

“Look, I’m not anything to your sister, okay?” I finally said. “We’re just classmates, and she dragged me here because she needed someone to keep an eye on her. Streets are kinda dangerous lately.”

“Oh, well tha-” Ken’ichi started, before being cut off as I charged up and threw a roundhouse kick, stopping just an inch away from his face before he’d even noticed. After a delay of about a second as he processed what had just happened, he suddenly jumped away in shock.

“H-hey! That’s not fair!” Ken’ichi called out.

“Right, ‘cause the ironclad rule of street fights is that the fight doesn’t resume until the banter’s over,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “Try that one on this Tsukuba guy and see how it works out for you.”

Ken’ichi glared at me, then tried to throw a jab at my face. I used one hand to swat his fist to the side, sending his punch off to the side, then stepped forward, put both hands on the crown of his head from the back to pull it down, and started tapping his ribs lightly with my knees to simulate what would be some very painful body blows.

“Ah, ah, ah!” he yelled out, struggling futilely to break free.

“Muay thai’s famous for the use of elbows and knees, which makes it deadly in a clinch,” I explained calmly, now letting go of his head with one hand to start elbowing the side of his head. “If you don’t know how to clinch, you’re dead the second you get grabbed like this, see?”

I let go and pushed him back to make some space between us, which nearly knocked him on his ass.

“Yaw-yan doesn’t focus as much on the clinch, but it’s always important to know if you’re ever going to get into a street fight or MMA or something,” I explained, taking my stance again.

“Ken’ichi, did you see what Ensei did there to take control of the clinch and keep you from escaping?” Apachai asked, actually sounding like a serious teacher.

“Uh… he grabbed my head?” Ken’ichi asked, not sure how to answer.

“Right! Everyone always tries grabbing neck, doesn’t give you leverage!” Apachai said, sounding proud. “Need to grab crown of head, lets you control head better. That’s how you do one of muay thai’s best moves: Kao Loi!”

To demonstrate, he suddenly grabbed me and did a live demonstration, not even giving me the time to cry out in fear as his knee rushed up to meet my forehead.

Luckily, since I was the same age as Honoka, Apachai mentally categorized me as somewhere along with the various kids and animals he played with all the time without losing control of his strength, so I got away with a mild concussion instead of my head exploding into gory confetti.

---X---

About 10 days later, Ken’ichi came home to proudly announced he’d had a rematch with Tsukuba (apparently he’d been beating up on some random judoka and then threatened Miu, so Ken’ichi stepped in). He was feeling pretty good about himself… until the Masters pointed out that both tough guys interested in a guy who’d beaten up Tsukuba, who had something of a reputation, would start coming out of the woodwork to challenge him, and if the guy really was part of a gang like the rumors about him said, they’d probably want revenge.

I didn’t really intend to get involved in Ken’ichi’s fights until the Ragnarok’s “Eight Fists” started getting into the mix, so I didn’t really think much of it at the time.

But that was yesterday, and this was today. And today, I’d noticed a commotion in an alley on my way back home after school and came face-to-face with about half a dozen thugs beating the crap out of a guy, led by a spiky-haired kid.

Spoiler

“If you wanna blame anyone for this, blame yourself for being such a pansy!” the spiky-haired guy said with a laugh, kicking the guy in the ribs while he was down.

“Hey, you guys, lift him up. And one of you hold his arm out,” he said, turning to the other goons before looking the downed guy in the eye with a sadistic smirk. “You karate guys are all about breaking boards, right? We don’t really have any lying around, so I think I’ll try practicing on bone instead.”

“‘Boards don’t hit back’,” I quoted, stepping calmly into the alley. “If you really want a workout, you should try sparring instead of ganging up on some guy six to one like a bunch of pansies.”

“What the-!? Who the fuck are you!” one of the thugs yelled. “Get out of here, kid!”

“Yeah, this is Ragnarok business, half-pint! Go home to mommy!” threatened another one.

“Ragnarok? That gang of punks who took a naming scheme they were too dumb to even stick to properly?” I asked with a smirk. “Yeah, I guess I’ll buy that. You guys don’t exactly look like the sharpest tools in the shed.”

“Why you-!” one of them yelled, trying to grab me by the shoulder and winding up for a punch.

Much like I had with Ken’ichi, I swatted his arm to the side, stepped forward, grabbed him by the crown of the head from behind, and laid a real knee hard into his ribs. He landed on the ground, gasping for air with tears welling up in his eyes. I didn’t feel them break, though, so at worst they were bruised or fractured.

“So, what’s this ‘Ragnarok business’ that’s so important, exactly?” I asked, stepping over the fallen thug.

“I’ll kill-!” One of them tried to charge me. This time I just grabbed the back of his head and turned him to the side, so he knocked himself headfirst into a brick wall.

“Ooh, we’ve got a tough guy,” the lead thug said mockingly, a cocky grin on his face. “Well, if you must know before I kick your ass, this loser here is Tsukuba. He used to walk around thinking he was hot stuff, then he got his ass kicked by some lame-o freshman. And Ragnarok doesn’t tolerate guys making us look bad.

“Which is why you’re joining him on the floor!” he said, pointing at me in a manner I’m sure he thought was really threatening.

“Oh, so this is the guy Ken’ichi beat the crap out of,” I said, looking down at Tsukuba. Yeah, he was definitely the “sportsman bully” type; pretty tall, good natural build, muscles obviously born out of competitive sports. From what Ken’ichi had described of him, he’d almost certainly started with boxing before learning karate, and despite joining Ragnarok he was more used to fights in the ring than the streets. The classic “was stronger than the other kids, took some classes, won some fights and got a swelled head” story.

Spoiler

“You… you know Shirahama?” he asked. Apparently, he was still conscious, though he was forcing the words out as he clutched his side.

“I’ve been helping him train. So, I guess you could say I’m indirectly responsible for you being where you are right now,” I admitted.

“… No, it is my fault,” Tsukuba said, eyes downcast. “Beat up a few punks, thought I was some badass. Didn’t even take him seriously until I’d already lost.”

“Yeah yeah, no one wants to hear some beaten dog howling,” the punk said, landing another kick at his ribs, eliciting another grunt of pain from Tsukuba. I made a mental note to pay him back for that.

“So, you know Shirahama?” he asked, turning back to me. “That’s just perfect, we’ve got orders to take him to our boss. Maybe you can… introduce us to him?”

Despite the fact that two of their buddies were still lying on the ground, the other punks started trying to look intimidating, giving dark chuckles, cracking their knuckles, the whole deal. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

“Sure, whatever,” I said dismissively. “Hey, Tsukuba, you still awake? Got something to ask you.”

“W… what?” Tsukuba asked weakly.

“Do you want to get strong? For real, this time? Strong the way Ken’ichi is becoming?” I asked, stepping forward to stand over Tsukuba.

“Hey, what gives-!” the lead punk started to say. I held out a finger to silence him.

“Shut it, I’ll get to you in a minute,” I said. “So, how about it? Are you ready to learn under some real Masters, and learn what the martial arts are really about?”

Tsukuba looked up at me in disbelief, before giving a small smile. “You know what? You beat this guy, and I’ll agree to whatever the hell you want out of me.”

“Sweet! Be proud, Tsukuba, you’re about to become the first (paying) student of the Southern Martial Forest dojo!” I said, giving him a thumbs-up.

The thug’s disbelief finally wore off. “Alright, that’s enough out of you! Once I’m done kicking your ass, I’m burning your Southern Whatever dojo to the ground!” he said.

I turned away from Tsukuba, looked the leader square in the eye, and then backhanded the nearest still-standing thug full in the face, sending him spinning to the ground, my eyes still on him as his eyes widened. “You’d die trying.”

Gritting his teeth in anger, he took a small hop back to make some space, then launched a roundhouse kick as I took the stance I always used when training Ken’ichi in muay thai.

Thinking my ribs were an easy target, the thug’s eyes widened in shock as I checked his kick by raising up my knee and then pushing it away, sending him stumbling back against the wall of the alley.

“Really? You’re using taekwondo in a narrow alley?” I asked, shaking my head with a smile. “Man, thugs these days. No awareness of their environment, I swear.”

“Shut up, you little shit! No one talks like that to Koga the Kicker!” he yelled, kicking off from the wall to add force and speed to a tornado kick, spinning his body to build up momentum in midair.

To the average punk on the street, his kicks would be blindingly fast and terrifyingly strong. But he was practically in slow motion to me as I used the back of my hand to knock his kick aside, then gave him a swift kick in the ass while he was off-balance after landing, sending him face-first into the pavement.

“Ah!” he yelled in pain, hands on his surely-stinging face. “You son of a bitch!”

“Word of advice, ‘Koga the Kicker’,” I said derisively. “Being famous for a particular move is fine, but relying on it isn’t. Specialization is for insects and sportsmen. If you wanna walk around the streets like a tough guy, learn to throw some punches instead of just kicking your legs around like a ballerina.”

He would’ve replied, likely with indignant shouts or empty threats, but I was getting a bit bored, so I just rushed into his face where he couldn’t get room to kick and put him in a clinch. I used my knees to foil any attempts to knee or kick me, and I didn’t even bother dealing with his sad attempts to use his fists.

“See this? This is what happens when you think all you need to know is how to throw kicks,” I said calmly, easily containing the struggling thug. “Real taekwondo has plenty of hand techniques, too, so you don’t even have the excuses a boxer would have there.

“Shut up!” he yelled.

“Fine, if you don’t wanna learn, I won’t bother trying to teach,” I said. With that, I brought my knee up into his gut and let go. I shook my head in disappointment as he started puking.

“For someone who loves to dish it out, you sure can’t take it for shit, huh?” I asked the vomiting street punk. “You’re just as soft as your goons. I think even Tsukuba here would have taken more punishment to be out of the fight.

“Speaking of which, come on big guy, we’ve gotta get you signed up for your first classes!” I said cheerily as I hoisted the huge teenager over my shoulder. “Man, Mom’s gonna be so happy about this!”

‘Got us our first student and I got to beat the crap out of some punks,’ I thought to myself with a smile. ‘Man, this day’s definitely going my way!’

---X---

“I can’t believe you!” the prospective 8th Fist yelled, kicking her defeated subordinate so hard he went flying, only to be caught by the other two members of the “Three-Man Army.”

“You didn’t find Shirahama, and you couldn’t even punish that loser Tsukuba without getting the crap beaten out of you by some kid!? ‘Koga the Kicker’ my ass!” she exclaimed.

“He… he wasn’t just some kid, Kisara!” Koga cried out plaintively. “He… he was so fast… so strong… like I was nothing… he’s a monster!”

“A monster, you say? Well now, doesn’t that sound interesting?” came a young man’s voice. There was an amused, cocky tone that matched his smirk as he stepped out into the open.

“Loki? What are you doing here?” Kisara asked, visibly on guard.

“Well, I was going to speak to you about your upcoming nomination as the Eighth Fist, but now I’m wondering if we should be evaluating this new mystery fighter instead,” the Fourth Fist said with a chuckle. “After all, anyone who can take out ‘Koga the Kicker’ without breaking a sweat is someone of interest to Ragnarok.”

“You-! Don’t bother with this punk, because when I get my hands on him, he’s dead!” Kisara yelled, indignant.

“Oh, I think not, Kisara,” Loki said, pulling out a wire puzzle and casually starting to play with it. “Odin has been insistent on getting a full complement of nine fighters for some reason, and that means we don’t make enemies out of our prospects unless they do so first.”

“But… but he attacked me!” Koga yelled.

“And if you weren’t more than one of the top thugs for a simple executive, that might be a deal-breaker,” Loki said dismissively, quickly solving his wire puzzle. “Damn, too easy again.

“But you aren’t, and it isn’t. Don’t bother with this… Oh, what’s his name again?” Loki asked, turning to Koga.

“He… uh, I don’t, um, know,” Koga admitted, voice small. At Loki’s frown, he quickly backpedaled. “But I know he goes to a dojo! It’s called the Southern Martial Forest, he recruited Tsukuba for it!”

“Oh good, that’s even better than a name,” Loki said, his smile returning. “I see you’re not totally useless. Good, Siegfried and I will be approaching him ourselves, so go about your business as usual, Kisara. Go see about that… what was his name, Shirahama?”

“Tch. Fine, whatever,” Kisara said, sinking back into her chair and glaring down at the Three-Man Army. “Until you three idiots bring Shirahama here to me, I don’t want to see your faces around here. Got it?”

“Loud and clear, boss!” affirmed “Takeda the Puncher,” the unofficial leader of the three. “We’ll be back at his school bright and early tomorrow!”

-x--X--x-

*The manga debuted in 2002 and is thus assumed to be the time that the story takes place. The Gameboy Advance was released in Japan at the tail-end of 2001.

**The norm in Japanese schools is for students to join some kind of after-school club, and they’re heavily encouraged and sometimes even required to do so. “Member of the Go-Home Club” is a joking term for students who don’t join a club and just go home when school’s over. You probably know this if you read manga, but I try not to assume.

***Thailand has the largest overseas Chinese population in the world at over 9,000,000 (about 15% of the country’s population), as well as one of the oldest and most established. About half of them descend from people from eastern Guangdong Province, and thus the Minnan (“Southern Min”) branch of the Chinese language is very well-represented among them. Hokkien, also called “Minnan Proper,” is the historical lingua franca of overseas Chinese communities all throughout Southeast Asia, including the Indochinese Peninsula, and it has (limited) mutual intelligibility with Teochew, the dialect of Southern Min most prominent in Thailand, so the odds aren’t terrible that Apachai is at least passingly familiar with one or the other.

***People who criticize the horse stance as useless in combat, or who categorically deny that that’s true, are both missing the point. The horse stance, where the legs are spread wide and solidly rooted to the ground in a manner similar to what it looks like when you ride a horse, is quite useful for endurance training, to strengthen the back and leg muscles and tendons, and for helping a student to understand what “being grounded” feels like. And those fighting systems that do/did argue for its use in practical combat did so because of unique circumstances that made it a good idea at that time and in that place; namely, a lot of southern Chinese styles like Hung Ga were made to be used while fighting on unsteady barges and boats. In very unsteady or shaky ground, a stable stance that lets you keep your footing can be more valuable than one that lets you strike and move quickly but isn’t strongly rooted to the ground.

****Here’s a short explanation of the reasoning behind the typical muay thai stance, and even some exercises for it.

Spoiler