Anime Etc. / The Otaku Institute / The Otaku Institute Same-Sex Archive / Fanfic Recommendations / Suto-ri Denkaku
Author's Chapter Notes:
C Wins.
"Goku! I will defeat you!" The Kaio-Kamehameha treads closer and closer towards you until even time slows down. "The Six Witches!" Sweat boils on your temple as every vein in your body trembles due to the mass amount of Ki pouring out of them. After a life time of struggling, another two arms shoot out of your spine. Obeying your commands, each arm stretches backwards simultaneously. Growing in volume and strength, all six of your arms smash down at full speed, bashing into Goku's most powerful attack.

A tingling sensation pierces your heart immediately upon doing so. Now, still idly floating in the sky, you attempt to overpower Goku with your most powerful assault. The adrenaline within surges to a new found height now that your innate fight or flight response has been activated.

"Not a chance," your foe finally manages to respond.

Cries of joy from the audience explode but every sound soon mutes itself. This is a no longer simply a battle in a tournament; everything is being put on the line with this last exchange.

Skin begins peeling off of your rugged knuckles, similar to the battle against King Vegeta, but the pain ensues. You use every last ounce of strength that is humanly possible, yet still find yourself at a draw with the Saiyan, although the terrifying part is: what if he can still up his Kaioken!?

Your eardrums pop loudly. Each pupil inflates to the point that if feels as if your very own eyes are about to rip out of the sockets. Similarly, there does not appear to be any scent around--correction, you are unable to smell anything other than the possibility of being defeated.

No! I WON'T lose, you correct yourself in a rage.

All feelings in your hands disperse as they morph into lifeless structures that can only perform one single task.

Pushing you into the sky with all of his might, Goku takes the upper-hand in this exchange. You curse at your lack of strength, but know that this battle is far from over. Chants of your name boom across the stadium. Negative? Positive? No, such trivial thoughts are meaningless at this time. Your arms bulge in size as you begin to borrow Ki that you should not be able to dip into, yet still manage to do so, and start to take the advantage from Goku.

Damn it! The force of his attack is making me lose my footing! Goku's mind races in a panic, and just then, his left leg caves into the arena floor. The Saiyan loses his balance and a great deal of force he was presenting vanishes all in a moment. I have to center myself before..."BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!"

Although, the Saiyan's screams are unheard. The crushing magnitude from two super power's clashing in the center of the arena is strong enough to block out any sound waves from escaping this inner area.

You continue to put pressure on Goku, completely forgetting about your health--those blasted stitches, swollen knuckles, and shredded fragments of skin mean nothing!

"This battle is mine!" You dictate, controlling the flow of this struggle. Victory is only seconds away!

"Damn it! I can't...GRRR!" Unable to use his full power due to his crooked posture, Goku simply cannot overpower his opponent. "Looks like there is only one way then...!"

"RHAAA!"

"Kaio-Explosion!"

Every last scrap of Goku's Kaioken aura transfers into his Kamehameha, fueling it with a dangerously alarming vibe. You scream in horror at the sudden change of energy and, within seconds, Goku's attack implodes violently--with every atom of Ki being transmitted into your arms.

You're blasted off into the sky, each artificial arm evaporating as you drift around aimlessly. Blood dribbles out of your mouth and leaks onto your shirt. Injured and confused, you blink incredulously for a moment, collapsing onto the arena with a bang soon afterwards.

"Kiryu is down," a voice speaks. The man probably has some sort of authority from the way he just spoke, but it doesn't concern you. Lying down is so peaceful. For some reason he is now counting. What a strange man he is... You think, in a daze.

Just a few meters away from you, Goku stands bewildered and exasperated. He is standing on a sole patch of stone, yet everything around him has been turned to dust. The power from his Kaio-Kamehameha shattered the arena around him, but luckily, he managed to implant himself on the last remaining piece in his area of the tournament arena. "I, I, I..." Unable to comprehend what is going on, Goku continues to repeat the same word over and over again.

"Six! Seven!"

That man is still counting? What on Earth for? You wonder, completely failing to grasp the situation.

"I, I, I did it." The crowd awaits in anticipation, each of them silent. Proudly, Goku raises one arm to the sky and clenches his fist tight. His entire body trembles. "I did it!"

"YEEEAAAAHHH! Way to go!"

"Excellent fight!"

"I love you!"

"You're amazing!"

Various cheers rumble from the crowd at this statement, though, all of a sudden, silence echoes through the area. Still smiling with blithe, Goku falls flat on his face and fails to move an inch. The announcer stops his count at "nine" and freezes, awestruck.

"Wha...!? What just happened!?" yells the co-announcer, standing up and jumping into the broken down ring. The announcer follows suit. Refusing to break the silence, the audience awaits confirmation on what exactly happened. "He's...he's..."

The announcer grips his microphone tight and brings it up to his dry lips. "Everybody..." He maintains eye contact with the fallen Saiyan and a long, drawn out silence ensues. "Goku is down! Goku is down!" He repeats it for effect, but literally one second after hearing it the first time, the audience screams in cheers. Neither of them cared from the beginning who won the match, especially after the magnificent show that each of them just experienced.

With a faint smile, albeit one that is hiding inner sadness, the co-announcer pats Goku on the back and checks to make sure he is okay.

"Victory to Commander Kiryu!" Overwhelming chants of all kinds continue on for what seems like hours on end. The announcer gazes over at you, still lying flat on your stomach, and then gawks over at Goku, whose face is implanted into the soil that was once hidden by the arena. How unlucky...if he stayed standing for just a second longer, he would have won.

In a rush, the announcer dashes over towards you and attempts to lift you up off the ground. Though to his surprise, your enormous body structure and hundreds of pounds of muscle prevent him from even budging you.

The strange feeling of a weakling grasping your body brings you to a sudden wake, though you're still far from being completely aware of your surroundings. Once you realize that it is the tournament announcer who is struggling to pick you up, you assist him in his hopeless endeavor until you are fully standing.

Grinning like an idiot, the announcer flings your arm up into the air and cheers from the crowd begin calling your name enthusiastically.

"Did I...win?"

"Yes you did, Kiryu. Congratulations!"

How did I win? Goku transferred all of the Ki he had embedded in his Kamehameha into my arms so that my body took the majority of the shock when the blast imploded... Tired, you gaze over to your former opponent to find him lying flat on his face, half-buried in the soil beneath. So I guess that's how it happened. Heh, I'm pathetic. After all that, I could only draw him.

You turn away from the crowd and limp back to the confines of the stadium, hearing endless cheers during your extended trip back. Tien is nowhere to be seen, but in your current condition, you couldn't care less. Once you're out of plain view from the crowd, you drop down against the wall and close your eyes.

"Congrats on the win," a voice comments. You open one eye and find the man known as Zita looking deep into your eyes with a genuine smile.

"I don't consider that a win."

"Huh?"

"Even though I don't know what happened to him after I dropped down from the sky, it was obvious that I won by luck. As far as i'm concerned, that was a draw." There's a short silence. "Why the hell are you talking to me anyway? You're a Soldier for the Red Ribbon Army, aren't you? We're enemies."

He smiles innocently, takes a seat on the floor a few few across from you and leans up against one of the arena's that was used for the Preliminary Games. "Not anymore." He pauses for a second, so you look into his bright yellow eyes. "My commander in charge, Iceburg, was killed recently."

I suppose I was somewhat responsible for that...

"After that, I was fired. Same goes for everybody who worked under him."

"Hm?" Zita looks down to the floor, trying to smile, but is unable to make a proper one. "That's odd. Why would the Red Ribbon Army release you because Iceburg died?" You know why Iceburg was killed considering you sent Phoenix Graham back with the knowledge of his schemes, but for now, it's best to play dumb.

"He was ambitious. Believed that the ends would justify the means; he did everything in his power to rise in the ranks. It was always his goal to change the RRA from within, but I guess the higher ups caught onto his schemes and killed him off. They must have been afraid that anybody who worked directly under him would know how or why he was killed, or maybe his plans, so they tossed us into the waste as well."

You remain quiet.

"Nine years." Zita doesn't even try to look up to you, but his voice begins cracking the more he speaks. "Nine years of my life I served the Red Ribbon Army. I met Iceburg and we planned to end the corrup--" From outside the stadium, a booming voice calls the next two contestants to enter the ring. "Whatever, that dream is over now."

"..."

Zita rubs the back of his hand over his eyes. He then stands up and turns away from you, preparing for his battle.

"I have a question."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What is it?" He asks.

"Back when I escaped from the Blimp that was escorting me back to Red Ribbon Headquarters..." You pause, comfortably so. "When I was falling out of the skies after creating that distraction, you immediately found me, but rather than end my life with that blast you had at the ready, you let me go. Why?"

"Don't ask me. It was Iceburg's order." You raise an eyebrow. "He made me promise that no matter the circumstances, I would not kill you, and that if you were to escape, to allow it. I was just following his plan."

"But, what would he gain--"

"Does it matter? He's dead."

Zita steps out into the light, leaving you dumbfounded. Damn it! You bang your head against the wall in anger. Looks like I may have made the wrong choice when I decided to tell Phoenix about Iceburg...

"And now," the tournament announcer speaks diligently, "We have Zita facing off against Bebi! Which one of these astounding fighters will meet Commander Kiryu in the finals!?" After a short pause, giving time for the crowd to react, he continues. "Well enough talking. Let the battle begin!"

You gaze outside, immediately noticing that the arena has been completely repaired. In fact, it looks like an entirely new one altogether!

Refusing to waste any time, Zita immediately sprints towards Bebi, but rather than stop in front of him, he runs in a diagonal direction and passes by the foe without concern. Increasing his speed with each second, Zita continues to zoom back and forth, creating an imprint of a star which surrounds Bebi.

As he does this, his arrogant opponent merely folds his arms and chuckles to himself, probably oblivious to what is going on.

Zita leaps into the air and snaps two fingers up. A ferocious yellow aura spews out of his body, managing to even make Bebi whip his head up to the sky. Zita grins proudly. "Dragon Star!"

"Huh!?"

The star shaped cut in the ground violently explodes around Bebi with the sound a dragon roaring through the screams of Zita's opponent. "Hmph." Zita glides down professionally and gently plants his feet on the solid turf.

Suddenly the dust from Zita's attack is blown away and Bebi stands tall, still folding his arms over his chest, grinning psychotically. The thief of Cooler's body laughs to himself with one fist clenched. "Is it my turn yet?"

Zita remains quiet. He analyzes his opponent carefully.

"Guess I'll get started," Bebi declares.

"Please do."

"Urgent to die are we! Very well, go out with a bang!"

Zita is sent hurling into the ground, bouncing several times before coming to a stop. Despite this, he quickly regains his footing, trying to hide the dribbles of blood leaking from his mouth. He bends over and digs his hands into the solid bedrock, piercing it without struggle, yet still eyeing Bebi warily.

Across the ring, two arms rip out of the terrain and grab Bebi by the ankle. Astonished and prudent, Bebi quickly reacts by overlaying his hands on top of Zita's own, but to his surprise, a sensational burn overwhelms his entirety. At the top of his lungs, Bebi winces in pain while blowing his hands in a comedic fashion.

A gigantic aura explodes around Bebi in his rage. After screaming multiple curses at Zita's hands, a small orb barely larger than a tennis ball surfaces on the flat surface of his palm. "Now die you worthless piece of trash!"

Upon hearing that, Zita retracts his arms. An explosion follows soon after, but judging from Bebi's face of turmoil, it is likely that he hit himself with that blast he just formed. The idiot.

Zita smiles in a very happy and arrogant manner, simply to anger Bebi, and unsurprisingly, it works perfectly. Bebi warps in front of Zita at blinding speed and grabs him by the neck, lifting him off the ground almost instinctively. They lock eyes for a moment. Bebi slowly winds his clenched fist back, filling it with as big of an aura as he can possibly muster.

"Any last words?"

"You mad?"

"RHA!"

Smoke billows into the audience stands and dust particles scatter around, killing every poor soul with asthma. From a mere punch, Bebi created enough destructive power to blow up a small city. Yet even while using such strength, he managed to concentrate it so that Zita accumulated 100% of the damage.

"One! Two! Three!"

Silently declaring his victory, Bebi spins around and slowly exits the area, but to his surprise, is called back suddenly. He slowly twists his head in a very uncomfortable fashion, noticing that Zita is right across from him--standing tall.

I'm surprised he managed to take that hit head on, you remark.

"Don't look away from your opponent before the fight is done."

"Not like it matters," Bebi boasts. "You were stupid enough to call my name instead of taking advantage of the situation. Dumba--AGH!" A leg rips up from under the ground and knees Bebi in the gut with a blazing force behind it. He falls to his knees in pain.

"Hidden Arts--Dragon Style," Zita waves his arms about in a rather peculiar way, somehow lengthening them the more he stretches. Solemnly, Zita thrusts his claw-shaped hands forward. Bebi easily sifts from side to side, dodging every pointed jab directed at him. Angered that none of his attacks can connect, Zita lifts his left leg straight up and swings it horizontally. It stretches across the arena and slams into Bebi's liver, causing the foe to cringe in pain. "You're open! Dragon Thrust!"

Bebi is struck in the neck by a powerful two-fingered jab, which causes him to skid back a few meters before coming to a halt. Another series of jabs from Zita try to overwhelm him, but this time, Bebi reaches out and grabs Zita's wrist, tightly clutching it.

"Burn."

Zita's hands are covered by a molten hot aura which instantly melts the skin off of Bebi's cold fingers, yet he still manages to maintain his deadly grip; even going as far as to squeeze harder. Bawling in torment, Zita dashes at Bebi wildly. Once the distance closes, he jumps in the air and attempts to kick the body-thief.

Just moments prior to coming into contact with Bebi, a 'Barrier' morphs around his sublime frame and knocks Zita to the ground. Trying not to leave himself vulnerable, Zita presses both hands behind his head and shoots himself back up to his feet, only to meet Bebi's stretched out arm bashing into his entire face.

Zita's whole body swings around from the sheer force his opponent assaulted him with, yet Bebi's attack doesn't end quite there. He calmly puts his arm back to his side as a wild explosion erupts just beside him. Blood is squirted out of Zita's mouth; he tries to grasp air but is forced to roll over onto his stomach in order to breathe.

Upon doing so, Bebi steps onto Zita's back and puts an enormous amount of pressure on the damaged warrior. Cracks are heard from his spine, but Bebi does not withhold his frustration.

"Just who do you think I am?" He murmurs in a menacing tone. "You and I are not in the same league." Zita cringes in pain, unable to budge Bebi from his superior position. Finally, he lifts his foot up off of Zita and kicks him in the gut. With a trail of blood behind him, Zita skids across the arena, barely avoiding falling out of the ring.

Bebi notices that his opponent is still squirming about, so he stretches one hand out and puts his fingers in a flicking position. His pinky, ring, and index fingers are all stretched out, while his thumb presses up against his middle finger, almost as if he is about to unleash a destructive force from within his palm.

"I, won't, let it...!" Glaring at his foe in the eyes, Zita finally makes it to his feet, growling like a mythical beast about to meet its end.

"How did a pathetic piece of garbage like yourself make it to the semi-finals? You disgust me!"

Bebi unleashes the trigger holding back his middle finger and a minuscule sized orb beams across the ring, coming into contact with Zita's nose. An explosion far greater than all of the others is released, going as far as to crack the foundation of the arena. With this, you're sure that the fight is over.

Thoroughly shattering your expectations, as soon as the smoke clears, Zita is still standing tall. Judging by his posture, his left arm is probably broken. Perhaps he defended that last attack with it. Bebi's eyes bulge out of the socket as he witnesses the impossible.

"You...!?"

Panting abnormally, Zita still manages to make a crooked smile. "Dragon Abyss." He stretches out his right arm and the thin aura guiding the rest of his feeble structure vanishes for a moment, reappearing in the dragon-shaped Ki he is forming in his right hand, bright yellow and glimmering with life. Quite ironic considering Zita's current condition.

"It's dangerous to transfer every ounce of Ki in your body into one location. Especially when you're standing straight across from your opponent. If I were to even jab you lightly, there is a good chance that you would die."

"...Desperate times call for desperate situations."

"How boring."

Bebi prepares another one of those merciless flicks of death, aiming his fingers at the center of Zita's body--which is now drenched in blood.

The more damaged I am, the stronger this attack is! If I can land it, I'm sure that I can put him down! A drop of blood scrapes the inside of Zita's iris which paints his vision red. "I didn't study martial arts for my entire life for nothing. Not to lose to an inexperienced chump like this guy."

Frowning at that comment, Bebi shakes his head. "I gave you every chance to back down. But I won't hold back this time." Similar to earlier, Bebi's aura grows to a massive new height. Without a doubt, he has spent all of his time improving this menacingly frightening Destructive Ki.

"Dragon Abyss!" Zita swings his full arm forward like he was throwing a baseball and the dragon in his palm howls with animosity. Bebi relinquishes hold over his finger trigger and a tiny orb zaps through the air, disrupting the air currents with its incredible pace. Yet to everybody's surprise, Zita's eyes turn completely white and the dragon within him vanishes on cue. His lifeless body crashes into the ground, barely avoiding Bebi's finger bomb, which scatters just past him and explodes on the lush grass outside of the arena.

The crowd is hushed. Even Bebi shakes his head in a I-told-you-so manner.

"Uh...Is he okay?" The announcer looks around in confusion, however, predictably so, nobody can verify what happened. "One! Two!"

"Count all you want, he isn't getting up." Bebi turns away and slowly exits the ring. "Instead of wasting time counting, I'd get him to a hospital. He did a very stupid thing and might die because of it."

"R-r-right. Can we get a Medic out here!?"

You lean back up against the wall and sigh. Transferring all of one's Ki into a specific area of the body is the quickest way to kill oneself.

Bebi walks past you and doesn't say a word. If you didn't know any better, you would be under the impression that such a hollow villain may actually have empathy after all. Probably not though.

Guess I better get ready... You make your way to your feet, struggling to even stand at this point, when the tournament announcer comes barging in. You gaze at him questioningly.

"Kiryu, are you in any condition to fight?" he whispers so that nobody can hear. You crack your neck and nod, trying not to show any weakness. "Are you sure? You look pretty beat up. We can't have the finals if one of the contestants is half dead!"

"Postponing the match is not an option."

"Yeah, you're right. There would be a riot out there if we stopped things now."

"I suppose I'm fighting then."

"Here, wait." He opens up his vest pocket and pull out a small bean, shaped like a moon. A Senzu Bean, it must be! "This is one of the prizes for the winner but I don't think it should be a problem if it's for you. Eat it." You take the bean and insert it into your mouth, clenching down very slowly. Within seconds, you feel fully revitalized. All of the damages your body took in the battle against Goku fade away.

"Thanks..."

"It's good, right? Now get out there and win!"

"What about Bebi? He won't be at 100%."

"Right, I should probably go ask him how he's doing."

The announcer hops away, throwing away all of his dignity with each gallop. You aren't able to hear what is going on, but judging from Bebi's body language, he is boasting about being in perfect shape. You're also fairly confident that he insulted you at least twice in that short conversation.

"Alright, we're good to go!"

You tread outside after the announcer, gently step into the arena once again, and head to the far right side in preparation to fight. Bebi proudly goes to the left side so that you are both squarely set apart from each other.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the final battle of the 37th World Martial Arts Tournament is about to commence. Are you hyped!?" He is quickly answered by thousands upon thousands of people at once. Those noisy bastards. "Who will win!? Bebi, who whizzed through all of his matches without breaking a sweat? or Kiryu, who fought top class fighters in every round, coming out on top no matter what?

Your name booms in the crowd. It is clear who the audience is favoring. Surprisingly, Bebi doesn't seem to care.

"Then let the battle begin!"

Instantly, you raise your Ki and implant your feet into the ground. Bebi just folds his arms over his chest. His arrogance knows no bounds.

I'll have to show him what happens when I'm taken lightly, you remind yourself.

"Say Kiryu," Bebi calls. "Lets say we make a bet." You raise an eyebrow, not sure what he's planning. "If I can land even one clean hit on you in this match--a physical attack strong enough to make you bleed, you'll immediately forfeit your life."

"Just one clean hit?"

"It shouldn't be a problem for somebody who so greatly outclasses me, no? Unless you're lacking confidence. Heh heh heh."

You smirk. "...And if you don't get one clean hit on me?"

"Name your terms."

What's your game, Bebi? You ponder the question for a couple of seconds and finally come to an answer.


A) "Okay Bebi, I'll accept your bet."
- What will Bebi have to do if Kiryu doesn't get hit even once?
- Optional: Describe how Kiryu will fight Bebi.

B) "No thanks. I don't negotiate with terrorists."
- 1) Crush Bebi into the ground.
- 2) Play with him for a little while and enjoy the battle.
You must login (register) to review.