One Step Ahead
"Bakuchi, sir! The referee requests your presence at the inspection!"
Bakuchi blew a ring of smoke from his cigar at the disheveled young man standing before him. He leaned back in his swivel chair and blew another slow stream of smoke over his office desk before answering.
"They're starting now, are they?"
The young man nodded quickly. "Yes sir."
"Tell me," said Bakuchi, twirling his still-lit cigar between two fingers. "How's our boy doing?"
The young man held up a clipboard, his black eyes scanning a list of numbers.
"He's recovered nicely from that blow to the shoulder. We had the best doctors attend to him, just like you ordered."
"Good, good…" mumbled Bakuchi, shifting his weight in his chair. "Suppose I'd better get a look at him just in case…who's on for today?"
The young man's eyes went back to his clipboard. "Lord Debabouchou, from the Land of Water."
Bakuchi spluttered a little. "Him? What's he doing here?!"
"Well, you see…he heard about your winning streak…and he's brought his best as well."
Bakuchi leaned his forehead against his palm. "The great demon king himself…boy, boy, boy…Think our lad can handle it? Is he too young? Answer me, Kigaru."
Kigaru stuttered a little as he answered. "Well…the thing is…his is actually the same age as our boy. And yet they've never been beat. Ever."
Bakuchi grunted as he heaved himself out of his groaning chair. "Well then…" he said, taking a deep suck on his cigar. "We'll have to be the first now, won't we?"
Kigaru nodded. "Yes, yes sir. Of course."
"All right then, let's not keep them any longer."
The inspection room was a small, yes brightly lit room, with several people standing around, most holding clipboards. The blazing glare from the overhead lights burned even the eyes of Bakuchi, though he was, as usual, wearing his thickest sunglasses.
A small man approached him, his pen tapping a line on his paper.
"You're Bakuchi?" he asked in a somewhat squeaky voice.
Bakuchi tapped some ash off the end of his cigar. "Right."
"We're going to perform the inspection now. Have you any final decisions before we move on?"
Bakuchi gave a throaty laugh. "Our boy's clean as it gets. Do your worst."
The tiny man signaled to an attendant, who pressed a button on the remote he was holding. One of the room's walls began sliding upwards with a mechanical grinding sound. As soon as it had retracted, a team of burly men wheeled in a large metal crate, with Bakuchi's name and insignia smelted into the side.
They stopped after the crate was completely inside the room, then began unclasping the many intricate locks that dotted the outside of the enclosure.
"We've already administered the sedative," muttered a bespectacled woman with a pen in her mouth. "He should be no problem."
The brawny team all heaved together, managing to lift the lid of the crate just enough for a lever to be placed under the rim. The top was slowly lifted away, and the team of inspectors crowded around the opened crate like mourners around a coffin.
Despite himself, Kigaru flinched when one of the inspectors reached into the crate and withdrew an arm with webbed fingers and dead-looking scaly skin to feel for its pulse.
Several onlookers jumped when one of the jaggedly clawed digits twitched. Bakuchi laughed hoarsely again.
"Some o' them look like they've never seen one o' them before," he said.
"Yes sir," muttered Kigaru.
After several minutes, the team of inspectors stepped back, some scribbling on their clipboards. The muscled men heaved the lid back on top of the crate and began resetting each padlock.
The same tiny man as before glanced up at Bakuchi. "He passed," the man mumbled, waving a hand.
"Heh, heh…of course."
Kigaru breathed in relief, though both he and his overweight employer knew they had never made use of performance-enhancing drugs in their lives.
"The sedative should wear off in a few minutes, continued the short man. "Just in time for his show."
Bakuchi rubbed his hands together greedily. "Then let's go already."
"Ladies and gentlemen!" the announcer's voice boomed out over several strategically placed speakers in a giant arena. "Welcome to the three hundredth annual…"
"How is he?" murmured Bakuchi, barely able to hear himself over the booming introductions.
Kigaru glanced at one of the finger-sized air holes in the metal crate he and his boss were standing beside. A low growl emanated from within, and a single, blood-red eye glared at him from behind the metal wall.
"He's awake all right. He knows it's his turn now," muttered Kigaru.
"Good, good…make me proud, boy," said Bakuchi, patting the cold metal with his cigar in hand. Another snarl issued from its occupant.
"Look, there's Debabouchou," said Kigaru, pointing to the center of the stadium. A tall, wizened old man in expensive-looking clothes was standing next to what seemed to be a giant birdcage made entirely of gold-painted metal, with a fancy purple cloth draped over it. Several attendants were making last minute-preparations around the cage, rushing all over it like bees around a hive.
"Our first contester of the night, hailing from the Land of Water, seven-time national champion, the so-far undefeated Lord Debabouchou!" shouted the announcer, to be met with excited cheering from the spectators packing the arena seats.
"There's our cue," ordered Bakuchi, signaling his men to wheel out his own crate.
"And our second contester, all the way from the Land of Fire, the also-undefeated Iyashii Bakuchi!"
Bakuchi stood next to his metal box, enjoying the excited roaring from the gigantic crowd.
"All betting stations are now closed. Please return to your seats and we'll begin."
Bakuchi waddled back over to his seat next to Kigaru, blowing a stream of smoke out of his nose. "Cross your fingers."
Bakuchi's team of men were again clicking open the numerous locks that held his prize possession captive. This time though, it was the front of the crate they removed, not the top. Scooting backwards, several of them tipped up the back end, signaling its occupant of the time to emerge.
Even now, Bakuchi and Kigaru's breath caught in their throats as their trophy surfaced from the back of the darkened crate.
Very slowly, what appeared to be a teenager crawled out of the crate as the team of men hustled to wheel it away and pull shut the arena's deadbolt door behind them.
Bakuchi gazed proudly on his cherished treasure as its sharpened claws scratched at its tightly-fitted shock collar. Its eyes squinted in the glare of the arena lights after hours in the darkness of its crate.
He could almost pass for human if not for those wings, though Bakuchi as his gaze wandered onto his prize's back where two gigantic growths flexed slowly, displaying bat-like webbing. After a moment, it shook its head of shaggy blue hair and glanced at the other cage, baring its razor-sharp fangs at the opposing team of handlers.
Lord Debabouchou's men scrambled around this cage as well, prying open locks and setting up a carpeted ramp in front of the cage door.
Showoff, though Kigaru, taking careful note of every move made.
One of them men grabbed a tasseled rope, giving it a sharp yank. The purple cloth covering over the cage fell away, and the old Lord's own treasure slithered slowly down the silk-covered ramp and onto the dusty arena floor. The team of men wheeled away the giant birdcage, leaving the two the only ones left on the arena's floor.
Kigaru studied the Lord's trophy. The information had held true, it was in the same age group as their own. Though, this one was a female, with fluttering, fin-like wings sprouting from its back, along with a serpentine tail from the waist down. This one had swirling black lines curling around its bared shoulders and ending in star-like patterns on the back of its delicate hands, and a vertical slash-like mark over each eye. Its bright red hair fell well past its hips, and it gazed interestedly at the male Kigaru and Bakuchi had brought in, completely ignoring its own jewel-encrusted shock collar.
"If she was human, she'd be a pretty one," mumbled Bakuchi, sucking on his cigar. "Wonder how this'll turn out."
Their male gave a low growl when the opposing female fluttered her clawed fingers at him in a teasing manner. The tip of her scaly tail flicked up a little, as though in annoyance.
"And there you have it, folks! Lord Debabouchou's own prize, giving her opponent a taste of her famous taunts. He looks fired up now!"
"Get on with it," muttered Bakuchi, watching the blue hair on his male bristle up aggressively.
"Ladies and gentlemen…the three hundredth annual Demon Battle Clash has officially begun!"
He glared at the female only a few yards in front of him. Another fight. Another opponent. Another certain death.
She stared back, scrutinizing him. Searching for any obvious weakness. They were both trained fighters, he had a light idea of how she would proceed.
He glanced at her face and their eyes met. Something in the back of his mind shifted. He felt like he had seen those eyes before. She hesitated as well, but regained her composure after a moment.
She rose up on her tail, using it as a support as well as keeping her balance. Her mouth opened and for a split-second he caught a glimpse of tiny, catlike fangs before she trilled a high, screeching note, well above the hearing span of humans.
He fell to the ground, clutching at his ears and wincing from the intensity of the sound. She seemed to be smirking at him. He growled at her, though he could feel wet blood where his fingers tried to block out the sound.
She finally stopped, needing to draw breath again. In that instant he flew at her, fangs exposed and claws balled up in fists.
Each of her hands blocked his punches, and her tail tip came up unexpectedly from behind, whipping him across the cheek. He reacted in an instant, catching her tail point in his teeth and biting down, tasting that familiar metallic tang. She slammed her injured tail into the ground, sending him flying a few feet back. He spat out one of her scales and growled again, her blood still staining his ivory fangs.
"She's good…" murmured Bakuchi, chomping nervously on his cigar. "Come on, boy…you can do it…we'll be rich if you win, I'll buy you a nice new leash, how does that sound…?"
Kigaru glanced nervously at his employer. The man only muttered to himself when something was devastatingly important. Was their opponent of that much importance? It was the prize fighter of Lord Debabouchou, but it seemed so much more than that to the chain-smoking man…
The fight had dragged on for much longer than intended. Both of them were covered in cuts, scratches, and bites. Both of them were panting in exhaustion.
She narrowed her eyes at him. He was much tougher than anyone she'd ever faced before. He glared back at her yellow eyes with his red ones. Both of them had black instead of whites in their eyes, marking them as demons. Both carried the same curse, being forced to fight against one another by their so-called "masters."
The crowd around them urged them to keep fighting, their bloodthirstiness overpowering even that of the two opponents.
He glanced up at his keeper, the fat little man with a cigar always hanging from his mouth. The man disgusted him, always jabbering on about money this and money that. The minute he broke free of his control, he'd take great pleasure in slitting his throat.
She gazed at her warder, the shriveled old man sitting so arrogantly in his fancy throne. She hated fighting, hated taking the lives of others. Her only condolence was that she could bring them a little joy before they died. That human up there in the stands was her enemy, not her own kind placed before her and ordered to fight.
Their eyes met again, red and yellow. Neither wanted to struggle on any longer, they could see it in each other's sad gazes.
A sudden jolt of electricity burned into both their throats. He coughed repeatedly, clawing at the sharp metal ring around his neck. She groaned a little, tugging weakly at her own.
They were being ordered to fight again. Even the keepers had resorted to using the shock collars. It meant "Get on with it!"
He slowly pushed himself to his feet. She watched him stand upright this time, not on all fours like before. On his own two feet, like the humans did.
Wishing she could do the same, she drew herself up as high up on her tail as she could go without toppling over. Their held gaze remained unbroken.
His giant, fleshy wings spread, he blew up clouds of dust as he propelled himself into the air. She watched in wonder, her own tiny, gossamer wings were too small and weak to let her fly like that.
He fell into a dive, aiming straight for her. She could have just dodged it and let him smash into the ground, but instead…she grabbed his scaly arm and directed his force away from the dusty floor as her serpentine tail wound quickly around his thrashing body.
"Ooh, looks like it might be all over for Bakuchi's challenger! Nobody has ever escaped from the infamous Python Strangle!" issued from the speakers.
"No…" mumbled Bakuchi, a pile of used cigars growing steadily on the unoccupied seat next to him. "You can do it, boy…You can do it…"
He was confused now. His opponent had virtually prevented him from moving any body part but his face. He could only struggle weakly under the force of her constricting hold. But…she wasn't taking the final blow.
He glanced up at her from where his head was positioned against her stomach. She had her hands around his throat, but wasn't applying any force at all. If not for the circumstances, it would almost seem like she was merely restraining him instead of defending herself.
He relaxed slightly as he tried to think of an escape plan, still a little surprised that her crushing coils only held him in place instead of shattering his bones.
Unexpectedly, she began to coo softly, one of her clawed hands gently stroking his shaggy hair while the other remained on his throat. The simple gesture made his face grow warm, after all, he was a male and she a female.
"It looks like we're in for a real treat tonight, folks! Lord Debabouchou's little missy is using her devastating final move, unseen for almost a year now! How on earth can Bakuchi's fighter escape from her Vampire Songstress technique?" said the announcer above the roaring crowd.
"Oh no…" sighed Kigaru, slumping back in his chair. "It's all over, sir. Pull him out now or he won't have a chance."
Bakuchi shook his head stubbornly. "Pull him out? You're insane, boy. If his master never gives in to a battle, he won't either!"
He felt himself losing the will to fight against her restraints. Her voice was too enchanting. That, coupled with her tiny hands lightly caressing his face and head, made him feel very warm indeed.
She fluttered a teasing finger in front of his face. He licked it gently, a sign that yes, he was interested in her too. She smiled a little, just as the humans did when they were pleased. It made his face grow unusually warm again.
He found himself able to wriggle a little under her confinement, enough to remove one arm from her captivity and place it against her face. She stopped her bewitching humming, and her face turned a little redder at feeling his finger on the side of her head.
She leaned closer to him, draping her arms around his neck as her soft music lulled his mind into a drifting sleepiness again. She licked his uninjured cheek, her bluish tongue traveling slowly down to his neck where the biggest arteries were. He had his arm around her waist, sleepily holding her against himself in a way that humans described as "adoring."
She flicked her tongue up just under his chin, enjoying the way he shuddered with pleasure. She'd probably pay for it later, but this male was more fun to play with than any other she'd ever faced. He was so…willing. Some of her previous opponents had fought back when she hypnotized them, but this one just let her take the lead the whole way.
She realized something at that exact second. She couldn't bring herself to kill him. So many others she'd drained the blood of after entrancing them, but this one was different. He reminded her of someone she'd met long ago, someone who had surfaced in her mind from the moment they had met. Someone she couldn't even remember, but she associated with light and warmth and contentment.
If she didn't do something, they'd kill him themselves for not fighting her. Her grip on his hair tightened for a second as she halted her lingering tune. His free arm was gently rubbing circles on her back, careful of her gauzy wings. He was completely unaware of his potential fate.
She racked her brains for a way to let them know this one was meant to live. What could the humans recognize as a sign that she wanted this one for herself in a way even she couldn't understand?
"What's she doing?" rasped the old Lord to one of his attendants. "She's playing with him too much. It's not like her."
The attendant stammered. "Well, uh, sir…you see…she is after all an adolescent female. It's, uh…only natural that she begin having some interest in, well, males…"
The old Lord slammed his wrinkled fist onto his armrest. "Are you telling me that I'm going to lose the biggest match of my career because somebody's boy crazy?!"
"Uh, well…" stuttered the attendant.
"Holy smokes," exclaimed another attendant, his eyes glued to the arena. The old Lord and the first attendant glanced at the arena floor. And stared.
The Lord's warrior had released her opponent, but he still remained entangled in her snake-like tail. Her hands tousled his electric-blue hair while his were wound tightly around her human-like upper half. And their mouths were pressed against each other in a furiously passionate kiss.
"I don't believe what I'm seeing!" boomed the announcer's voice. "Lord Debabouchou's little battle-dome diva has not only refused to finish off her opponent, but seems to have found a mate as well! And seeing as demons pair off for life, this can't be good for either of their owners!"
She blocked out the human's screeching and roaring, her mind focused only on the warmth and comfort this male brought her. He allowed her to lay her head on his shoulder, enjoying the feel of her tongue against his skin as she nuzzled his throat again.
She gripped the white cloth his keeper had allowed him to wear over his torso, her face rubbing affectionately against his chest, praying the humans would understand that she and this one were meant to spend their lives together.
She opened one eye when there was a sudden shadow from the surrounding environment, and realized his wings had protectively encircled the pair as they embraced. This was his way of showing she was his and only his. The gesture made her smile again, something she hadn't ever done with any of her other opponents.
His eyes flew open when she jerked violently out of his hold, gasping for breath and scratching at her shock collar. He took her delicate hand in his and allowed her to squeeze it, glaring at the old man who was her keeper. The man held a remote control in one hand, with his finger poised dangerously above the button in the center. He had the power to inflict as much pain as he wanted on his defenseless captive. This man was now his sworn enemy.
"It looks like Lord Debabouchou's losing patience! He's already used up two of his three shocks for this match, and those two show no signs of going at it again. What on earth will this come to?" rumbled the announcer.
"Sir?" said Kigaru nervously. "Sir, what do you plan on doing about this?"
The still-tense Bakuchi blew out another smoke ring. "I'll tell you what I'll do. If those two won't fight, then nobody wins the match. That miserly old toad over there will make me an offer for the kid afterwards, saying it's in those two's best interests. He just wants our boy as a mate for her, and maybe a fighter as well, seeing as how they're almost perfectly matched."
"But you won't give him up?" asked Kigaru. "Sir, you know it's bad luck to prevent a pair of demons from mating."
Bakuchi exhaled a puff of smoke. "Since when have I ever believed in luck? If Grandpa over there wants our boy, he'll have to make an offer big enough to set us up for life. Or better yet, give us his girl if he's so keen on having those two together."
Kigaru's eyes darted back to the two in the arena center. Their male glared with pure loathing at the decrepit old man that dared harm his potential mate. He held his partner against himself, patting her head soothingly. If they had been human, their behavior could almost be called love.
Kigaru's eyes widened when, with no apparent movement from either of the keepers, the two froze for a second, then fell to the ground, convulsing rapidly and breathing in short gasps.
"Sir! Sir, what's going on?" he asked hurriedly.
Bakuchi shook his head in amazement. "I don't know…"
Neither of them knew how it had happened. One moment she was seeking his protection against her keeper's cruelty, the next they were both laying on the ground, experiencing something agonizingly more painful than just a simple shock.
Her snakelike lower half felt like it was on fire. She twitched violently, tears streaming down her face from the pain. She felt something touch her clenched fist. Looking up, she realized it was his hand, squeezing hers for comfort. She gasped as a white-hot burn rooted itself in her shoulders, bypassing skin and muscle and moving straight to her bones. She squeezed his hand back, panting as she lay in the dust.
He grasped her hand tightly, moaning a little as it seemed like the skin was being torn off of his back. He pressed his face into the sludgy dirt, gritting his teeth against the throbbing pain that consumed his entire body. This couldn't be some new torture the humans had made up. It felt more and more like he was being torn to pieces, something the humans couldn't possibly reproduce.
She gasped loudly as something inside her mind snapped open, unleashing a flood of memories previously locked away by some strange force. She remembered her home, her family and friends, her love, and even her name, which had been taken from her over five years ago.
He lifted his head slowly, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The searing pain seemed to have vanished, but it left a trail of aching and stinging in its wake. He blinked slowly, focusing hazily on the two hands clasped around each other in front of his face.
One was a human boy's hand, covered in old scars. The other was a human girl's hand, soft and slender. He realized the boy's hand was his.
She raised her face up from the tear-soaked dirt. Her eyes traveled down her mark-less arms, past the white cloth that covered another's, and into the face of the boy whose hand she was grasping.
Her vision met with regal, chiseled features staring back at her from under a spiky mop of jet-black hair.
His eyes traveled over a soft, angelic face, framed with a wispy curtain of rose-colored tresses.
They both stared, and whispered in unison.
"S-…Sakura?"
"Sasuke?!"
He allowed her to throw herself at him, holding her tightly for his comfort as much as hers.
"Sasuke, what's going on? Where are we? Oh my god—how long were we-?! Oh, Sasuke…I…I almost killed you!"
She felt a gentle hand stroke the back of her head, just as the blue-haired demon boy had done not so long ago.
"I…I don't know…" he murmured. "Please…don't cry…"
"Sasuke…oh god, Sasuke…"
Bakuchi and Kigaru gaped in disbelief. Where only a minute ago were the demonic opponents, now were two regular teenagers in their place.
"S-Sir?!" Kigaru managed to stutter out, glancing at his boss. "Wh-what just-"
Bakuchi stared, frozen in place, as the boy he had held captive for almost five years glanced up at him, his icy black eyes swirling into a bloody crimson. The boy reached up and, with almost no effort at all, tore off the metal ring hanging around his throat.
Bakuchi gaped as he broke the shock collar around the girl's neck, letting it fall to the ground. Everyone in the crowd was absolutely stunned.
"You people disgust me," announced the boy, taking the girl's hand again. "Be thankful you're still alive."
There was a whirlwind of swirling leaves, and the pair disappeared, leaving an astonished crowd, and two very upset demon-keepers far behind them.
Confused? Go read Part 2.
Quick Japanese lesson!
"Iyashii" means "greedy"
"Bakuchi" means "to gamble"
"Kigaru" means "cheerful"
"Debabouchou" is a kind of knife.