Description: A lunch, delicious and lovingly packaged. A hero, sworn to protect it. A villain, compelled to devour it. This-- is not that story. This is the story of Wang being bad at video games and Denji arising from Buddhist hell as a Hungry Ghost. Frankly, this story is much better.
THE ARCADE: a place frequented by the many youths of Southtown, who are just never satisfied when it comes to new things to waste their money on. It's a race to be the coolest, the hippest, perhaps even.../the freshest/.
And none are fresher than Wang Long, who thanks to the power of the internet is already well-practiced in the deadliest, most exciting of virtual arenas; Turbo Kong Dance Bazooka II.
Or, well, in theory. His highly illegal, highly pirated copy lacked certain arcade luxuries, like the extremely gimmicky control system that is nigh-impossible to replicate. But it should be easy, right? And then Wang will command the fear and respect of every single youth in the city, without hardly breaking a sweat! The plan is foolproof, all the more so because he has purchased a fragrant, overwhelmingly delicious box lunch in order to keep him in top form for this, the day of days when Wang finally rises to the top, like he has always been destined to!
"Alright, guys, check it out!" Wang grins a cocky little half-smile that only serves to make him look like a little snotty douche. "I'm really going to do it, right after I finish this! Prepare yourselves to see /history/."
"Uhhhhh," says a large boy who looks like a rhinocerous hit a bus face-first, "You've been saying that for the last half-hour. Come on, it's time to put up or shut up!" A chorus of agreement springs up, and Wang lets out a weary sigh. "Fine. I just...hope I don't faint from the /exertion/. I didn't have time to eat breakfast because my alarm didn't go off so I was short on time, and..." He trails off, and sighs again.
"OK, come on. Someone watch my lunch for me." He turns and strides forth boldly to meet his fate. Nobody, literally /nobody/, stays behind to honor his request.
Whoops.
Oh my Buddha.
Denji is
/so/
/HUNGRY/.
Wheezing and pale, the haggard youth clings perilously to the edge of the table, slumped upon his knees, his dazed expression obscured by the long bangs of his dark, unkempt hair. Otherwise pleasant eyes completely obscured, the erstwhile recluse, clad in purple and black robes now dire in need of a wash, appears either drugged, feverish, or otherwise intoxicated-- indeed, the very picture of sketchy homelessness. As a fearful child passes by at a safe distance, eyes darting from the strange young man to the nearby Super Unicorn Quest IV machine that is her goal, Denji Akiyama tilts his head toward the ceiling, and briefly his bangs part to reveal squiggly marks where those eyes should be.
"Uuuuuuunhh."
This is not how it was supposed to go.
He had been doing so well: met a cute girl, made some money, was saving up for an apartment, got his ass kicked, got better, made more money, befriended children, enjoyed the big city. Nobody ever told him falling asleep on a park bench with a big wad of cash in your pocket was a bad idea. He's sworn to himself to open a bank account.
Assuming he ever gets anything to put in it.
"Nnnnnghhhh..."
Assuming he doesn't just /die/, /right here/.
It's over. The guy at the counter supposed to be watching over the arcade, surreptitiously perusing pornography under the register, hasn't yet noticed him crawling blindly through the open doors and around the floor, but it's only a matter of time before one of the nervous denizens mentions something. Alas, Farah, my love, your Denji is destined to fall here, never to--
What is that blissful aroma?
Suddenly roused at the brink of collapse, Denji perks up, bangs parting once more as he focuses sharply on the /delicious lunch/ that has been so conveniently abandoned atop the table he so conveniently happens to be clinging to right now. There is nobody there. Just Denji and the lunch. It only takes a moment to conclude the obvious.
This is a gift from the gods.
Immediately he begins clambering noisily along the bench, scrambling wildly toward this divine providence before stuffing it ravenously into his mouth, beginning to weep in gratitude as he inhales fistfuls of magnificent cuisine.
It is the best food he's ever tasted.
In a surprisingly short time, a piercing shriek followed by a loud, muffled 'thump' can be heard even over the noisy confines of the arcade. It is followed by a few brief moments of choked back sobs, and then silence. Or at least the normal background noise as everybody just keeps going on with what they're doing.
It takes a little while longer for Wang to come around the corner, supported by one of his friends. His eyes are red and puffy, he is lightly hiccuping, and there is a large welt already forming on the side of his head.
"You," begins the helpful boy, "You're a busta." Wang groans, and shakes his head weakly. "Look, that game is unsafe! I have a history of seizures and it's not my fault that it was flashing like that, and besides that other kid did something, I think he threw some sand at me, which is why I'm tearing up a little, see it wasn't that I hit my head or that I lost, which honestly I don't think I did because even with all that going against me I almost had him, if Choji hadn't spilled his soda I would have--"
Wang comes to a halt so suddenly, so /forcefully/, that his kind friend is knocked off-balance, /almost as if shoved totally on purpose/ although you can't prove anything.
"M...my lunch!" He hiccups again, chest beginning to heave, eyes tearing up again. "H-how could...why..."
Simultaneously, every single one of the Gedo kids around him goes ooooOOOOOH in that way that every child instinctively knows. "You gonna just let him get away with that?" "Dude, I saw the price tag on that lunch! That could've fed you for a week!" "C'mon, you can't let him get away with this!" "He's insulted us all!" "There's only one way to settle this!"
Wang catches on quickly, if anything becoming even more upset. "No! I mean, n-no, it's such an unfair fight and he looks so pathetic and I'm weak with hunger anyway..." Rhino-face scowls. "Shut up and challenge him already."
With a nervous gulp, Wang takes a step forward, desperately trying not to lose it in front of everybody. "I...hic, I challenge you to a duel for eating my lunch, you...you ruiner!" His voice only cracks a little bit.
Now that's a funny-looking god.
Denji Akiyama, harmless country boy, is maddened by starvation and intoxicated by the flavor of the food now arrayed haphazardly before him. He is interrupted with his fist in his mouth; slowly he turns, the curtain of his bangs parting to reveal glazed but at least aware eyes, and retracts the hand stuffed between his lips, presumably consuming whatever treat he so ungracefully manhandled in there.
A long silence follows.
Slowly he reaches down for a soda -- Wang's soda -- and slowly raises it to his lips. Eyes wide and half-comprehending, slowly he places the straw in his mouth.
*sluuuuuuuuuurp*
It's not clear that there's any processes currently operating beneath that baked visage. By all appearances, Denji might as well be as high as a kite. But his swallow has a certain contemplative air, as though the homeless youth's lack of concern with Wang's challenge might not /only/ have to do with his lack of awareness regarding his surroundings.
He blinks, once.
His brain does its noble best to deal with this situation.
Denji blinks.
His brain gives up.
And automatically, almost mechanically, the ex-recluse tosses the half-empty paper cup of soda directly at Wang's face, his eyes remaining as glazed and unthinking as ever.
COMBATSYS: Denji has started a fight here.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Denji 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Wang has joined the fight here.
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Denji 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Wang
COMBATSYS: Denji successfully hits Wang with Small Thrown Object.
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Denji 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Wang
The gang of rowdy schoolkids slowly spreads out in a circle, both to keep interlopers out and to keep the duelists from chickening out and running off. Their boisterous betting and weighing of the two combatants starts getting loud even for the arcade.
Wang, however, is silent after his decoration. Silent and increasingly sweaty as he stares at Denji, and Denji stares right back. And then sips his soda. And keeps staring. Could this be...a /real/ thousand-yard stare? The thought is unnerving. Just who /is/ this guy?
Wang starts to subtly shuffle backward, eyes darting to either side as he tries to inconspicuously look for an escape route. It doesn't look good, especially when his own soda smacks him in the face, showering him with a horrible spray of cold sticky sweetness.
The young Gedo student shrieks as though he were in the process of being /murdered/, and in the process of his flailing closes the short distance between himself and Denji and manages to turn it into something half-resembling an attack, windmilling his arms to strike at the filthy hobo again and again.
COMBATSYS: Denji dodges Wang's Strong Punch.
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Denji 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Wang
Denji Akiyama reacts with surprising alacrity for someone in a zombified state. Operating purely on the level of instinct seems to suit him rather well, all things considered, and when the allegedly Long Wang comes flailing desperately at him, the dirty wanderer does some impressive flailing of his own. With equally wild movements that only seem to have been cunning in retrospect, Denji swerves around his assailant's furious blows, nimbly evading righteous judgment. Blind to the betting of Wang's peers -- blind to pretty much everything -- and the sudden attention of all the surrounding witnesses, except of course the still mysteriously distracted attendant, hapless Akiyama just does what comes naturally to him.
Which, in this particular case, is attempt to throw Wang through the table.
Specifically, with a rush of verdant green chi that Wang might miss, as it manifests in this case only in the faintest of outlines trailing behind the pseudo-monk, like rain whipped by the wind. Tragically, the freshness of a driving downpour does not translate to freshening Denji's scent, but it does, in this instance, translate to Denji seeking to grab Wang's shirt with a claw-like hand and lunge into a shoulder check, twisting with animal intensity to spin the boy around with him, and hurl him, with a flash of that nebulous energy, through the furniture, and possibly some of the remainder of his lunch to boot.
As soon as he digests enough for his conscious mind to restart, he'll regret wasting it.
COMBATSYS: Wang dodges Denji's Yokoburi.
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Denji 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Wang
Woosh woosh woosh. The windmills tilt fruitlessly against a knight who is out of his mind, like some kind of inverted-Quixote scenario. And yet, Denji is not the only man here with hidden instincts, rising to the fore in times of need. Admittedly, his are probably better trained and just more effective in general, but Wang's are nothing to sneeze at either.
As the claw clutches, wang is sliding his feet around on the soda-slick floor, almost looking graceful for a moment as he engages in an unusually fast tactical retreat. He slides to a stop with only a little further windmilling to maintain balance, and then settles into a low stance like he's ready to /get down to business/.
This is completely untrue, of course. Wang is still sniffling and wondering how best to get out of this without looking like a total wussbag, and completely failing to think of anything at all. In the meantime, the body does what it can to stall. In this case: /more footwork/.
The small Chinese boy's feet glide gracefully this way and that, his hands waving about in a pattern designed to entice, to draw the eye and distract, gradually creeping closer until the moment when WANG STRIKES with all of the chi-bound fury he can muster!
Which, as it turns out, isn't a whole lot, as the golden-yellow flare that bursts out of his hand is a far cry from anything resembling impressive.
COMBATSYS: Denji blocks Wang's Painstakingly Concealed Secret Attack.
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Denji 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Wang
What is he doing.
Denji's grasp is evaded, and what Wang uses to his advantage turns to his opponent's disadvantage: the ragged wanderer is unable to pursue after his initial miss, slipping and sliding himself across the soda spilled across the floor. His own arms windmill, but somehow, perhaps because the craziness seems vaguely inherent to his style, Denji manages to make it look compelling. Like, wow, he's just so wild and unrestrained, but he totally knows what he's doing.
Something like that. The usual focus in his eyes helps, veiled though it often is by his unfortunately uncut bangs, but said focus, even if it could be seen, is conspicuously absent at this juncture.
Okay, but what is that.
The boy who has attacked him for no intelligible reason is waving his arms around as though casting some mystical spell. Briefly, those barest parts of Denji's brain still fully operational send a tremor of fear down his spine: this god that so blessed him with food must now be projecting some sort of curse. But, no. There is just a sudden, vague flare of light as Denji's adversary leaps excitedly forward to release his secret attack.
Blinking as if baffled, frowning slightly, Denji reaches out his own hand, faintly gloved in shimmering green, and promptly extinguishes that flare, snuffing it as he closes his hand into a fist.
A brief silence follows.
Whereupon Denji, his expression unchanging and, in fact, whole posture absurdly still, snaps up his foot as though it has a life of its own, leg swinging high in an attempt to impact his sandaled foot wildly with Wang's beleagured face.
COMBATSYS: Wang endures Denji's Medium Kick.
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Denji 0/-------/-------|===----\-------\0 Wang
While Denji's expression may be lacking in focus, it has other, perhaps even more impressive qualities that are impressed upon Wang. That glassy eyed stare...that is the stare of a /master/. Wang knows it, he saw a video of Gen once, that dude is lethal and his eyes are like pure white, so it stands to reason that Denji is almost as dangerous as that. It's simple logic.
But great as he is, Wang thinks he can make an opening, can crack this guy open like a walnut and receive the accolades he so richly deserves. All he has to do is wait for the perfect moment, and...
And totally choke right when it's the perfect moment to strike, receiving not praise but only a kick in the chin so hard it launches him a short distance directly up into the air. Now it is Wang's turn for his expression to go blank, as conciousness very briefly leaves him.
Without that in the way, his form dramatically improves, as he swivels about in mid-air to launch a vicious flying kick at Denji's forehead.
He lands and regains his senses at roughly the exact same time, which leads to a brief period where it's all he can do to stay standing on the slick floor of the arcade, a bewildered expression on his face.
What even just /happened/?
COMBATSYS: Denji fails to interrupt Heavy Kick from Wang with Medium Throw.
- Power fail! -
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Denji 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Wang
Truly an example of transcendant might.
Also, Denji slips on the soda while he's kicking.
But, no, no, let's give credit where credit is due: the moment in which Wang's anxiety leaves him, however briefly, is decisive. Instinctively, Denji reaches up in an attempt to grasp the kick as it comes, much as he quenched the previous flare of Wang's chi, but at the same moment that his feet slip out from under him, the boy's form radically improves, just in time to impact jarringly with the side of Denji's head. The homeless wanderer loses his footing and spirals into the bench by the table, snapping it in two with a thunderous crash.
The attendant still doesn't seem to notice.
Yet while Denji lies there for a moment, clearly having hit his head most unfortunately for a second time against the wood he just splintered, he will all at once lunge to his feet with a renewed focus, and as his bangs flare to the side it will become apparent that some of the glassiness of his gaze has faded. He's certainly moving a little faster, now.
He's also smiling, bizarrely, as he reaches up to rub the back of his dirty head.
"Hey, that was a nice kick," the now moderately saner Akiyama says conversationally, as if having shifted personalities entirely, moving with ease between the utterly discontinuous selves of Brain-Dead Starving Denji and Normal Hare-Brained Denji. "You must be another professional warrior, right? This city is full of them. I'm so impressed!"
And then he gives Wang a thumbs-up.
What.
Did he...has he...for a moment, it is all young Wang can do to stare with confusion highly evident in his features. The zombie hobo...in the broken remains of what used to be a bench. The zombie hobo turning into a living human being? And complimenting him? And...what? Did he kick him so hard it turned him smart? And stupid? At the /same time/!?
It's no surprise that Wang has this previously unknown ability, since as anyone will tell you he is both amazingly powerful and amazingly handsome, but why now? And...what does it even entail? Does it just make people nice, or bring the dead back to life, or what?
The only course of option is study, which as any self-respecting nerd will tell you, is akin to life itself. And study Wang does, though through a haze of adrenaline and misplaced self-confidence.
"Oh, you haven't heard of me? I'm the strongest stu..." Wang pauses, looks at the crowd still surrounding them, with many loyal and extremely violent Gedo students, and swallows what he was going to say. "Well that's okay, I guess...I mean, it's not like I'm good at it." There's a bitter edge to it, but at the same time a distinct lack of sincerity. Perhaps it's in the way his eyes flit up hopefully toward Denji, intently waiting for what the strange boy has to say next with surprising intensity.
Waiting to see if it's another /compliment/.
COMBATSYS: Wang focuses on his next action.
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Denji 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Wang
The scarfed lunch is seemingly forgotten with Denji's unprecedented compliment, which is good, because Denji has forgotten all about it himself. As the arcade onlookers (with the conspicuous exception of the salacious-material-perusing attendant, who should really be intervening), er, look on in confusion, Akiyama continues blithely with his complete personality about-face, his brain having reset with the combined benefits of having delicious food in his stomach and receiving a solid kick to the head. "Not at all," the sketchy young man says, his thumbs-up becoming an idle hand wave. "That was really, uh, impressive. I'm, er... Denji Akiyama..." He trails off, suddenly a little awkward. "I didn't introduce myself yet, did I?"
Only belatedly does the quasi-monk realize he can't for the life of him remember whether or not he has, in fact, done so. He certainly doesn't know the name of the person he's fighting. He also doesn't know why he's fighting them, or why, in fact, he is here.
It's a little embarrassing, so he doesn't say anything.
Anyway, if there's anything Denji's good at, it's rolling with the inexplicable. Putting it down to divine intervention, Denji dynamically adapts, which is to say he shakes out his robes and reaches up to shake out his hair too for good measure (you would not be blamed for expecting something to emerge), shifting his stance as he does. He's moving with significantly more alacrity now, though his jerky movements, while oddly charming, are vaguely unpredictable. "Alright," he mutters, half to himself. "Time for my counterattack." Just in case he, you know, forgets.
At this rate, it might happen.
But it doesn't. In place of further ego-boosting compliments comes instead an abrupt and aggressive lunge, Denji's knifehand plunging forward sheathed in a verdant green chi thick as loam, boiling up from his sleeve to plow into Wang's midsection and take the hot air out of him.
COMBATSYS: Wang interrupts Aggressive Strike from Denji with Spoiler Alert.
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Denji 0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0 Wang
Even though SOME PEOPLE are evidently so crazed, so out of their minds as to retain zero percent of their short term memories, Wang Long does not forget. Wang Long does not forgive.
Although sometimes, his wrath can be delayed, perhaps even indefinitely, when faced with a sweet-talker like Denji.
Options dart through the Gedo student's mind as he considers his foe, brain racing at a mile a minute as he attempts to ensure that the situation remains as favorable as humanly possible.
"G...go on." It's made difficult by the warm, fuzzy feeling that comes from having someone, anyone, say something /nice/ to him. And mean it! Somehow, the focus shifts from 'how can I punish this fool' to 'how can i make him keep telling me how rad i am'.
Luckily, these goals seem to be surprisingly non-exclusive, and everything just seems to click into place. "Of...of course you haven't seen anything yet! Ha!" Hoping that this works like he practiced, Wang furrows his brow and begins to glow, a golden afterimage building around him, echoing the slightest of his movements.
"Denji," Wang tries the name out, chewing it as if he were actually seeing how it tastes. "Prepare to be amazed! Amazed by..." Suddenly silent (and suspiciously red), the teen launches forward with his /counter-counterattack/, his shining doppleganger ripping free to charge Denji, followed a split-second later by the original. The knifehand plunges forward through the energy clone, though it loses force along the way. Wang takes it in the stomach, but by then it's not enough to stop his barrage of fists, both solid and otherwise.
"His name's Wang Long, buddy!" shouts one of the helpful(?) bystanders, answering the unasked question. Somehow, Wang turns even redder.
----------------------------<Paste from Farah>-----------------------------
Even though SOME PEOPLE are evidently so crazed, so out of their minds as to retain zero percent of their short term memories, Wang Long does not forget. Wang Long does not forgive.
Although sometimes, his wrath can be delayed, perhaps even indefinitely, when faced with a sweet-talker like Denji.
Options dart through the Gedo student's mind as he considers his foe, brain racing at a mile a minute as he attempts to ensure that the situation remains as favorable as humanly possible.
"G...go on." It's made difficult by the warm, fuzzy feeling that comes from having someone, anyone, say something /nice/ to him. And mean it! Somehow, the focus shifts from 'how can I punish this fool' to 'how can i make him keep telling me how rad i am'.
Luckily, these goals seem to be surprisingly non-exclusive, and everything just seems to click into place. "Of...of course you haven't seen anything yet! Ha!" Hoping that this works like he practiced, Wang furrows his brow and begins to glow, a golden afterimage building around him, echoing the slightest of his movements.
"Denji," Wang tries the name out, chewing it as if he were actually seeing how it tastes. "Prepare to be amazed! Amazed by..." Suddenly silent (and suspiciously red), the teen launches forward with his /counter-counterattack/, his shining doppleganger ripping free to charge Denji, followed a split-second later by the original. The knifehand plunges forward through the energy clone, though it loses force along the way. Wang takes it in the stomach, but by then it's not enough to stop his barrage of fists, both solid and otherwise.
"His name's Wang Long, buddy!" shouts one of the helpful(?) bystanders, answering the unasked question. Somehow, Wang turns even redder.
-----------------------<Paste to Southtown Village>------------------------
Okay, that was pretty legit.
Amazed is not quite the word, but Denji's eyes do widen slightly as his chi-sheathed hand plows not into flesh but into an altogether different nebulous force, his strike slowing as though through molasses before impacting, its force significantly reduced, against Wang's midsection. Already he is forced to shield himself awkwardly from his opponent's flurry of blows, being driven back by their sheer intensity, staggering over the broken fragments of the bench they previously destroyed. At last he aerial cartwheels away from that assault, able to bring up his arms as he does so and fend off the last of it, but as he lands he is squinting, the skin around one eye already beginning to swell from one solid blow.
"Wang Long, huh?"
Denji Akiyama pauses, reaching up to scratch the faint whiskers on his chin.
"Well, now I know."
He doesn't mean it to sound that ambiguous-- really.
But while rebuffed, he is not deterred. Purple robes flap around him as he lunges through the wreckage, seemingly heedless of debris and audience's stares alike as he thrusts forward with a fierce kick, again imbued with sworling green chi, targeting Wang's midsection once more before spiralling into a wild second kick to the boy's head, throwing his entire body into the strike such that he torques in midair, clearly about to faceplant onto the ground when all his said and done. Something is to be said for his unpredictable energy; it's a bit startling given the focus, even discipline, on his features.
The way he lands is a little strange, though-- rather than collapsing, as he seems destined to, he plants his palms on the ground, almost flailing in order to do so, and spins on them, crouching almost like some sort of animal as his bangs part, peering up at his opponent, poised for-- something.
COMBATSYS: Denji successfully hits Wang with Charged Combo.
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Denji 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Wang
Still flushed, as much from the premature thrill of victory as from the humiliation of having his name known, Wang grows confident. That went about as well as it could, honestly; a minor injury in return for putting his opponent against the proverbial ropes? It's a good trade.
Or, well, it seems that way until Denji opens his mouth again. Anger, such a short distance from embarassment, contorts Wang's features, almost comical in its intensity combined with his stature and bearing.
"Well, I'm glad we're all being so mature. In the middle of a fight!" His tone belies his words, the sarcasm dripping thick as can be in that way that every child his age seems to instinctively know.
If, perhaps, he had spent more time looking at Denji's strange, jerky movements, Wang would fare better when the former comes in kicking hard. The tiny boy takes the foot and its emerald aura hard, doubling over in just such a way as to make the follow-up hit all the more cleanly. Suffice to say, Wang's world is /rocked/.
Teetering backward on his toes, just barely keeping from falling backward onto his butt, it is like Wang is levitating, staying on his feet through sheer willpower. "Whatever you're planning...kch." In one swift move, he twists 180 degrees and solidly plants his feet, a telltale golden glow beginning to shine through. "Just get away from me."
And then his backside erupts, an army of translucent yellow Wangs pouring forth from his perfectly still form, rushing Denji in his vulnerable(?) position. Each strikes a single time before vanishing to make way for the next, one after another in a seemingly endless wave, though in the end, their number is finite. Exactly ninety-nine; no more, no less.
COMBATSYS: Denji interrupts Final Boss from Wang with Shinrou.
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Denji 1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 Wang
This is unacceptable.
As fighters go, Denji is probably one of the least likely to be fazed when being mooned by his opponent. He doesn't seem to particularly notice, even as the onlookers chuckle amongst themselves, continuing to peer up from his -- now awkwardly, given their relative positions -- lowered stance, as though simply awaiting Wang's next movement now that his lunging kicks have impacted. He is not to be disappointed-- but perhaps he could be forgiven for being confused. What functions as his adversary's attack appears to be-- clones emerging, in a steady stream, from said adversary's own posterior.
By Denji's expression, he seems to be taking this quite seriously.
He may be the only one.
But it is thus with all seriousness that he -- against all common sense, and in spite of all absurdity -- lunges /into/ the barrage of chi-shadows, that seemingly awkward stance having now clearly positioned him to spring forth with as much swiftness as he can muster. It doesn't seem like he can do it; it doesn't seem possible. Even as he's moving the golden chi begins to crash against him; he sheds them as he moves, bracing himself against the beginning of the torrent. Yet, even though he seems to be moving in slow-motion against the current, move he does, the sketchy vagrant demonstrating a highly un-sketchy level of determination in the face of, uh, adversity.
"SHIN!"
A cry is abruptly ripped from his lips. His palms thrust out, parting chi like water.
"ROU!"
And he fires an earthquake right up Wang's ass.
There's no way any man can surive this many Wangs.
That's the idea, at least, although something seems...off. Not right, exactly. It takes an effort of will to not turn around, to let the (largely ineffective) facade of impenetrable authority slip. This might be a mistake, but it's too late now; he has committed.
For his arrogance, Wang receives apt punishment. That is to say, an earthquake completely destroys his ass. So to speak. With a shriek, he /leaps/ upward, hands clutching at his rear in the wake of such a powerful, bizarrely focused attack.
"You...you...!" Wang quivers in rage. This quickly turns into a mixture of rage and other, less feel-good emotions as laughter erupts from the crowd. The reason soon become clear; where once there were pants, now there is naught but exposed, somewhat bruised ass-flesh.
Tears begin to form in Wang's eyes as he does the only thing he can do at this point; a last-ditch effort to take out this man who has so toyed with his emotions. Feet sweeping across the floor (somewhat awkwardly, as he tries to keep his cheeks clenched), Wang advances once more on Denji, the very picture of ineffectual indignancy. It's remarkably similar to some footwork that may or may not have taken place not too long ago; it's hard to remember, what with the repeated traumas, physical and otherwise.
However, while last time Wang ended his maneuver with a bright, yet mostly harmless flash of energy, this time he goes straight for the throat, in a very literal sense. He lunges forward, palms aglow and held together, in a vicious strike aimed at Denji's adam's apple.
COMBATSYS: Denji parries Wang's Very Poorly Concealed Secret Attack!
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Denji 1/-----==/=======|====---\-------\0 Wang
That is deeply awkward.
And once more, Denji Akiyama seems nigh on immune to awkwardness. He doesn't even seem to fully process how humiliating this must be, even for a young man so thoroughly accustomed to humiliation. He looks on unblinking as Wang clutches comically at bruised buttocks, weaving with momentarily almost drunken inverse-grace into a middle stance, hands again pointed as though in preparation for more knifehand strikes. He is wordless -- not, as one might assume, speechless -- as Wang gathers himself, or something, and launches an indignant counter-attack.
Tragically, it is as impotent as Wang feels.
Denji's evasion amounts to tilting his head to the side. With superb timing, he wastes no movement whatsoever. Whoop-- he just tilts, and the throat strike passes him by. He nimbly reaches up with one hand and bats the arm away, for good measure, with a little slap. Just a little one. You can hear it, though, slap against arm.
*slap*
And then that hand blurs into Wang's chest.
It's just the beginning. Five emerald-green, blurring strikes become a wild combination in which Denji heedlessly overextends himself, culminating in yet another outrageous aerial cartwheel-- but this time directly /at/ Wang, aiming to slam both feet into the top of the boy's head and take him down completely, the impact doubled with the weight of the verdant force that has imbued it, the two of them likely collapsing together. And if they do--
"Hrraah!"
Making his first sound with a rare battle cry, Denji will gather his opponent up with all possible haste, caught up with the intensity of the moment-- and hurl him bodily into the lunch table next to them.
COMBATSYS: Denji successfully hits Wang with Shizen Enbu EX.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > // ]
Denji 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1 Wang
It's just a simple little slap. Yet despite this, it seems to ring out like a death knell, echoing through the arcade amidst a silence made all the more eerie for all the people who cannot help but contribute to it. Wang's eyes widen in surprise and the same terror a deer feels on a busy freeway.
Caught with his pants down, sort of, Wang is unable to resist Denji's advance. Before he can blink, he's been struck again and again, each blow feeling unnaturally heavy, before he's taken down, and then around. He is completely helpless as he is driven into and through the lunch-table, shattering it to pieces.
At last, all is still. Especially Wang, though were he aware enough to note his own position he would no doubt be scrambling to save whatever slim shreds of face he has remaining. He is certainly doing himself no favors, having improbably ended up face down, hunched over with his bare butt sticking straight up, like a monument to ass-kicking.
"Ghhh..." Struggling with the last vestige of conciousness, Wang's final effort is not a violent one; he just doesn't have it in him. Instead, it's an upreaching, unsteady hand, quivering as he reaches forward. "Wh...why?"
In the end, it's too much. Wang goes limp.
COMBATSYS: Wang takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Denji 0/-------/-----==|
COMBATSYS: Wang can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Denji 0/-------/-----==|
Amidst the carnage, Denji Akiyama stands alone.
He blinks once, as if noticing for the first time the aghast stares of the onlookers, before turning to his opponent's collapsed form-- and offering his exposed posterior an encouraging thumbs up.
"Uh, that was great!" the bang-blinded ex-recluse manages, genuinely uncertain what one says in situations like these, and not entirely grasping that there is not exactly such a thing as 'situations like these' for your average rational human being. He doesn't sound like he's /trying/ to be patronizing. "We should-- spar again sometime."
Despite his highly clouded understanding of what has occurred here, Denji feels a strange urge to leave this place via furtive backing away. An urge that he obeys.
"See you later... Wang."
It's strange, though.
How come he's not hungry anymore?
COMBATSYS: Denji has ended the fight here.
Log created on 23:52:08 06/16/2010 by Denji, and last modified on 16:06:41 07/11/2010.