An unstoppable mass of man stood at the center of the stage, raising his fist high. The veins bulged on his bruised red face. A nerve was struck harder than he was.
This behemoth certainly wanted to destroy Ranma. But he just couldn't. He was starting to feel... stoppable.
Ranma waited for his opponent to get out of their own head, idly flipping his pigtail to the next shoulder.
He was tired of the repetitive, long wind ups and simple punches that made a furious Ryoga look like a master of capoeira.
Dodging another punch, Ranma was ready to finish this, but in a cool way, the cheers were nice. He dropped his stance, leaving himself completely open. But that was a lie bigger than both fighters.
"Did you give up shrimp?"
"As if. I'm just bored of this fight."
"What did you just say!!"
"To sum it up, let's finish this."
The larger man, stung by the audacity, would certainly try to finish things up by bringing his fist down with as much force, and least amount of technique required to punch.
He was blinded by his own anger, landing a hit was all that mattered at the moment. Hopefully it'd be a good one, to teach the kid a lesson.
His wish came true in the worst way possible. His arm was caught in-between his opponents grip, both of their hands wrapping around his one arm.
Before he could even snake his arm out of the vice grip, his feet were suddenly higher than his shoulders were.
With a low sweeping bird's eye view of the Arena tiles, the large man still had to ask himself, "Did this boy just lift me?"
He was too stunned to process the whirl of motion before he found himself laying on the tiled floor of the arena. Too confused, to realize his body forgot to breathe, flushing him into a breathy panic at the realization.
"H-w-what... are you?" he airlessly questioned.
Ranma smirked, striking a confident pose. "The best of my time—" he started.
The giant interrupted with the introduction with a desperate tackle, clutching air upon landing. His opponent vanished
Ranma leapt high in the air, finishing his ascent with a flip, before falling back down with a kick to the face to send the behemoth rolling across the ring.
"Heh, It's Ranma Saotome!"
Ranma moved before his opponent could recover and knocked him into the crowd with another flying kick. The large body flattened some of the other opponents upon landing.
Cheers grew, but they were weaker than the last five matches. It made sense, Ranma was utterly trouncing everyone in his line. Mousse flying at him was a surprise, but after losing his glasses, Mousse tripped over a pile of weapons and dove out of the ring.
Akane did much the same, beating many in two strikes or less, but she soon found herself a good match, great even.
Shampoo was boring her line by fighting with an impressive lack of pace. It was a very effective method of toying with Ukyo, but their fight would certainly be vicious.
Ringo also took his time. Not as much handling the surplus of strange and new techniques in his own ways, but enough to irritate someone.
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Tonic slammed her fist into the arm rest of her seat, snapping an accusatory glare to her old friend. "Cologne! Why is Ringo going so slow?!"
Cologne chuckled, closing her eyes like she was going to share her special recipe. "He has a bigger concern than the fight."
"A bigger concern than upholding my reputation?" She complained.
Ringo's big concern was keeping an eye on Nabiki, who of course, sat four seats away from Tonic and Cologne. He didn't know why they weren't talking yet, but was more than happy if it stayed that way. Though Ringo's very present problem threw a bike tire at the back of his head.
"Focus up brat! You're screwing up!" Her impromptu coaching caught more than Ringo's attention, as a staff member approached Tonic.
"Ma'am please quiet down. You're distracting the fighters."
Tonic shot daggers through the poor employee's eyes before turning her attention back to the arena. "If I'm distracting them—which I shouldn't be—then they should have the room to..." She rose to her feet, inhaling deeply. "FOCUS ON THE MATCH!!"
"Jeez..." Unplugging his ears, Ringo narrowly dodged another swing from the crazed bike-wielding assailant. Being distracted by the sudden shouts of his "needy" grandmother had caused more than a few embarrassing slipups that he wished no one saw.
Squatting at the edge of the arena, Ranma watched Ringo fight, noting all of the slip ups he made—everyone saw them. He currently had nothing better to do than nitpick the finer details of a likely opponent. One note was Ringo having no form whatsoever. He would just throw a stance together and use that to hit his opponent however he intended.
It was like a blunt parody of anything goes martial arts, but Ranma knew—had a feeling—that this current showing wasn't how Ringo really fought. He remembered the heat and speed from the first time he met Ringo.
"Ya know, you can finish these fights a lot quicker if you fight a little harder."
Ringo promptly swatted the spiked bike frame to the side and gave the man an unceremonious shove off the stage. "Why does it matter?"
"You keep gettin' hit. I have a feeling you're better than that"
Ringo's eyes narrowed. "I appreciate the concern, but don't you have people to fight?"
"Nope. My line's all cleaned up."
He didn't know why, but they left in between his match with a little gremlin of a chef. Once he punted the goblin-esque cook off of the stage, and got ready to call the next one up if they weren't charging already, he finally noticed they were gone.
Ringo would've gone "hardy har" and called Ranma crazy, if he weren't so busy watching a man somehow flourish folding doors like nunchuks.
Ringo blindly pointed at Ranma, still studying his opponent. "As strong as you are, you couldn't've beaten all of your opponents so soon. Look harder, or something."
Ranma shrugged, "I guess it's better to say that no one's steppin' up to my plate 'cause they all want their apple slices."
Ringo shot Ranma a look nasty enough to stop his own opponent. "Don't use my name like that." He said firmly, silently continuing the fight.
Ranma scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Jeez." He muttered, rocking on his feet as the fight continued. "Why were you even named Ringo?"
Ringo knocked his opponent out of the ring by kicking through the doors before tossing his arms in irritation. "Why were you named rice planting—"
"Hey!" Ranma barked. "It's just—you got that roundish hair, and a leaf shaped feather pokin' out of it."
"I wasn't born with the feather."
"What is it then?"
Ringo groaned, dreading the real reason. "It has something to do with my hair."
"Ya' gonna tell me?"
"No."
"Aw come on." Ranma complained, putting his popcorn down. "Hair ain't that serious. Why are ya' being so moody?"
Ringo's eye twitched, a subtler sign compared to the blatant fire on his head. "Probably because I might get sold off, again," he muttered.
Ranma's ear perked, "What was that?"
"Where are your opponents again?" Ringo interrupted
Ranma sighed, "Didn't ya' hear me? they're in your line."
Ringo raised a hand toward his new opponent to stop them, but it wasn't necessary since they were very concerned about the fire on his hair. "Why?" he asked sharply.
"Dunno, they just left." Ranma shrugged.
Ranma had little reason to believe he was the cause of it since the worst he did was constantly boast things like, "Greatest here," or, "Best of my generation," and a dash of "untouchable."
That, and being able to back those boasts up shouldn't have anything to do with everyone leaving his line.
"They were just touchy," Ranma said, "'So and so' is barely an insult."
"I'm not fighting half of the tournament." Ringo remarked, pointing at the castaways
Ranma sighed, getting the faintest idea that it was better to try before bothering Ringo about it. "Yo!" he called out, "Y'all wanna come back?!"
He got a wave of no's paired with furious head shakes. The castaways were quite cozy with the aspect of a fairer, less boastful opponent.
The bar was low however, given the only reason Ringo gave them so much attention was either because Ranma was bothering him, Or their technique looked "Shiny".
"I did all I could..." Ranma shrugged, turning back to Ringo's arena. "Just fight them faster so this can be over with."
Ringo stopped his fight again, almost glaring at Ranma. "Can't I enjoy my first tournament?" he snapped, his eyes briefly spiraling. "It's the only thing I can enjoy right now."
"...This is your first tournament?" Ranma asked, ignoring the other comment.
Ringo focused on his opponent again, preferring to disassemble a dozen tiny sushi mallets from toothpick to fillet than answer the question. Ranma sat quietly and watched intently. It added to the more prominent sets of eyes Ringo felt.
After a while under Ranma's added gaze, strong as it is thanks to proximity, it began to stick.
With a groan, Ringo twirled his opponent around and tripped them from behind before kicking them off of the stage. He turned towards Ranma, a vaguely tired expression in his eyes. "If you're so bored, why not watch your fiancées fight?"
"I already did."
"Watch closer."
"Fine." Ranma rolled his eyes, glancing at the other arenas.
——————————————————————————————————————————
Shampoo stood at the edge of the arena to mock a furious Ukyo, who was getting even angrier, and was stuck twelfth in line. Shampoo's current opponent practiced her special twenty-step technique just as Shampoo insisted.
"Come on! Just fight her!" Ukyo exclaimed, slapping a tile of the arena hard enough to crack it.
Shampoo just shook her head, "Spatula girl should thank shampoo. Opponent at best make great entertaining match."
"It would be great if both opponents actually fought!"
"Shampoo is fighting."
"Terribly."
Shampoo huffed, crossing her arms and turning her head. "Spatula girl just sound ungrateful." She muttered blatantly.
"Ungrateful!?" Ukyo barked, rolling up her sleeves. "I'll show you ungrateful, you jackass!"
A staff member grabbed her by the shoulder before she got her other foot onto the ring. They immediately regretted their approach after receiving the second harshest glare today.
"M-Ma'am, please return to the line."
"It's not like it's moving." Ukyo scoffed, returning to her spot.
Just then, Akane drove Yukue back with a kick. She chased after Yukue with two punches, trapping her in front of another devastating kick.
Yukue blocked the kick with her right leg, but her leg was swept aside and she got shoved farther back. Again, Akane charged after her with another barrage, but she was too hasty and her fist swung wide.
Yukue took advantage of the opening, avoiding the blow and stepping in close. It was risky to in-fight with someone stronger, but she trusted her instincts would keep her safe.
Akane hesitated, Yukue was too close to put power behind a kick without leaving herself open. The hesitation delayed her next punch by a moment, enough for Yukue's reflex to shut it down completely with a palm-strike to the bottom of the wrist.
Akane stepped back to make space, but Yukue kept close by holding on to Akane's wrist, interrupting punches before they could fully extend.
Akane's defense was too strong to pry open, so Yukue slipped around it. Yukue forced Akane to raise her guard higher by punching higher. Yukue slipped a low punch to her unprotected waist, staggering Akane before slamming a knee into her stomach.
Yukue leaned forward as Akane clenched her gut, she was left wide open. Both fighters knew they had to move immediately.
Akane was the first to move, lashing out with a furious punch. Yukue's body moved immediately, planting a jab on the bicep before the punch could come close to launching.
Yukue had trusted her reflex and already committed to a roundhouse. Her right arm was returning to her body, the left was balancing her kick. She had no way to protect herself.
But the punch did not stop, Akane powered through the pain and shoved Yukue's fist out of the way.
At the same time Yukue's kick hooked under Akane's jaw, Akane's punch slammed straight into her chest.
The sheer power sent Yukue flying through the air, just short of the arena's edge, as Akane stumbled toward her, clutching her jaw.
The exchange may have saved Yukue from flying out of the ring, but the hooking of her kick trapped her with the full force of Akane's punch.
Her body finally stopped skidding across the floor as she gasped weakly. Akane fell to her knees, struggling with her balance even then. Slowly, Yukue rolled onto her palms, Akane planted her other foot, and both pushed themselves back to their feet.
——————————————————————————————————————————
Ranma winced after watching both girls trade match ending blows.
"Yeesh, that's gotta hurt." he muttered. He couldn't remember the name of the girl Akane was fighting, but was surprised she was even awake.
Akane looked more rattled than hurt, not that the last kick didn't keep her from clutching her jaw.
Ranma's eyes clung a bit longer to Akane before turning back to Ringo dealing with a man in a leotard pulling an elaborate handstand-kickboxing technique.
"L-look, it's not like I'm gonna fight them next." Ranma suddenly remembered to argue.
Ringo ducked under a foot cross and groaned. "And?" he said, trapping both of the man's legs over his shoulders and spinning with him.
"Just—" He spun again. "Watch—" And again. "Them."
After one final spin, he finally tossed the man off the stage.
As Ringo clenched his gut and waited for the dizziness to fade, another ballet dancer rushed onto the stage wearing a Bear-suit.
"What's so wrong with watchin' you?" Ranma asked, watching a bear leap with enough grace to give Kodachi a run for her money.
Ringo stepped on the foot of the spinning Bear-lerino and kicked their thigh with his free leg. "Said every stalker ever," he muttered. "What's so good about it? Nothing over here is that interesting."
"You're fighting a two hundred pound ballet dancer in a bear suit. It'd be strange if I didn't watch him do crazy things—like that!" Ranma furiously pointed at the Chaînés uppercuts the bear man did. Well, all Ranma knew was that they were punching up and spinning really fast.
"Now that you mention it, that sounds so interesting! But I think there are enough people watching." Ringo rolled his eyes after catching the fifth uppercut. "Feeling one more would be distracting."
"It would be better if there were none." He pointedly glared at Nabiki, catching Cologne and Tonic in his peripheral vision. If there were nickel for every Greek trio that fit those three... there would be quite a few.
Cologne just watched, pleased to see how Ringo dealt with the quirky fighters off of four years of her proper training. She was wondering how he'd fair against her newer "passion" project. All too similar to the stares he felt during his time in Nakano.
Nabiki stood and waved innocently, gaining a tepid return before her lips curled into a smirk. Her gaze felt just like his parents', exploitative.
Tonic scowled of course, standing up just as Nabiki sat down. "Eyes on the fight brat! You're making my shop look bad!"
Ringo sighed, did she really need the closest seat to yell at him better? He couldn't get a proper read on her gaze because of how loud she was. Tonic sat back down with a satisfied humph as Ringo focused on the tournament.
His opponent twirled back into the fray, swiping with their Styrofoam claws.
"This ballerina gig is overused..." Ringo thought, as he dodged a sequence of cabrioles aimed toward his neck.
Ringo leapt over the Bear-lerino's leaping scissor-kick and drove a spinning heel kick to their chest. The man flew out of the ring, landing on his rival on the way out.
In the heat of the moment, Ringo landed back down with a showy crane stance, but the raised knee being higher than normal caused the stance to resemble an Écarté.
——————————————————————————————————————————
"Pretty fancy for someone so irritable." Nabiki scoffed. "How did this Tonic lady get him to listen?" She looked to her right, four seats away sat Cologne and Tonic.
Nabiki's first impression of Tonic was really a messy crater of promise and worry.
Her very exposing, certainly expensive green silk robe and the red gems tucked in all three of her hair buns said a lot about income.
Her poor attitude said just as much about her connection to Ringo. Though she had a shorter temper than Ringo and chose to express that loudly. It was a family trait after all: immense anger and varied ways of showing it.
"Are you trying to embarrass my shop!?" Tonic shouted at Ringo, who struggled to unwrap himself from a clothesline.
Ringo rolled his eyes, earning more—somehow louder—shouts from Tonic. Nabiki tuned out the squabbling until she witnessed Ringo promptly finishing the fight the moment Tonic started growling. That was the spell she had to learn.
Tonic turned to the chuckling Cologne, frowning at her. "You were too soft on the brat."
"I can't fix that attitude more than the feather has tried."
"How did you get him to listen in the first place?"
"It's a secret."
"Excuse me." Nabiki called out, smiling softly. "An old friend, Cologne?"
"You could say..." Cologne chuckled, glancing at Tonic before looking back at Nabiki. By the looks of that nice smile, Cologne knew this show wasn't for her. "Are you looking to get acquainted—"
"What is it girl?" Tonic asked sharply.
'Our first time meeting and she already doesn't like me?' Nabiki thought. "I think I heard you saying 'your shop' earlier?"
Tonic looked Nabiki up and down, grumbling indignantly the entire time. "What of it?"
Nabiki smiled sweetly. "I was just wondering... How did you manage to get an employee like that to work for you?"
The bitter elder's eyebrow raised sharply. "You looking to steal him? Just wait till Friday. We do a special event every week." Tonic said mechanically, her unamused gaze sliding back to the arena.
Nabiki waved her hands and chuckled slightly. "Oh no no, I'm not looking to have him forever..." Yet. "He'd just be real helpful outside of Fridays."
Tonic hummed. "Outside of Fridays? Just place a request. He's there to take them" she monotoned, with a slight hint of annoyance.
Bingo. Nabiki grinned inwardly while sighing on the outside, shaking her head. "Oh, but he's sooo busy. He's barely around half of the time."
The air seemed to thicken enough to suffocate an ant. "Oh really..?" she asked, heat raising in her voice. "I should've known..."
Nabiki almost laughed at how smooth this step went. So she upped the act to drive the knife further. "Yeah. And he's just... So. Mean to me." Nabiki perfectly pouted.
A vein bulged unhealthily on Tonic's face, truly blending the line between a stress wrinkle and her actual features. "Now that is something, isn't it?"
"That's just the surface..." Nabiki said, watching the gears grinding and snapping through Tonic's eyes. She could almost imagine Ringo wearing fashionable chains to match his shiny hair bracelets.
Juust another push.
"Oh but he can listen. He's in this tournament now because of me."
Tonic raised an eyebrow. "So you want that mess, outside of Fridays?"
"What can I say?" Nabiki shrugged. "He's got potential." As a great debt collector, or as a butler just for the fun of it.
"Well I can't just give him to you," Tonic said coolly. Her expression brightened significantly which, somehow, was worse. "But let's see what else I can do for miss..."
"Nabiki Tendo."
"Tonic." she returned.