Why They Became Icons

The clash shook the foundations of the Other Side.

Those who’d stayed behind to keep drinking were putting money down as Wolf Knight and Raven Scout launched a double flying side kick at Eagle Rook, who went flying into one of their tables.

Hippo Bishop immediately charged the two. Raven Scout rolled out of the way, but Hippo’s arm caught Wolf and slammed him into the ground. Planks exploded into splinters around Wolf’s body.

Raven ran over to pry Hippo off of Wolf as Hippo began stomping his feet into Wolf’s chest. But Eagle flew across the room and threw a wild right hook into Raven’s chest.

Wolf finally rolled out of the way, whatever floor was left being pulverized by Hippo’s errant boot. That didn’t put Hippo out too much, who only laughed. And kept laughing, no matter how many punches or kicks Wolf and Raven delivered. “Fools! You think you can pierce the skin of the hippo?

Not that they got many chances. Eagle could go faster than either of the men, and even if his strikes lacked power a thousand of them would still add up. He came from every angle, struck with each hand and foot, always changing. The Eagle was unpredictable, never giving them a moment’s rest. Never giving them enough time to plot how to take the Hippo down.

“You can’t outrun us and you can’t outlast us,” Eagle chuckled, standing on his toes next to Hippo. “Why keep fighting?”

Raven cracked the fingers in his hands. “The same reason we’ve always fought. For those who can’t protect themselves. For those you’d throw into a fire if it meant you could have your new Japan!”

The Raven and the Eagle clashed again, Raven suddenly meeting Eagle’s speed. “I’ll keep that in mind when I throw your corpses into that fire!”

Wolf tried to catch his breath, diving under a leaping Hippo and stamping his foot on the ground. He’d get one shot at this.

Raven grabbed Eagle’s wrists. Now it was his turn to laugh. “There’s one thing we’ve got that you don’t. He spun around on his feet and flung Eagle Rook at the waiting Wolf Knight.

There was a time that Wolf Knight had tried baseball. He’d always enjoyed being at bat. Hitting a home run wasn’t so simple as swinging the bat. It was like martial arts in a way. You needed the right stance, the right motion, using your whole body to put real power in that swing. You also needed the right timing, the right angle of attack –

What was it he’d heard once? Fear not the man who practiced ten thousand kicks once…

His foot scooted back an inch, leg ready to spring. Eagle Rook was flung towards him head first –

Wolf rotated around, bringing up that prepared leg that show blue fire down from the hip, past the knee, down the shin, and into the foot. And it was that foot that struck Eagle Rook in the crook of his neck, down where it met the shoulder. He was sent careening past Thrud the bartender and into the back wall where dozens of glasses and bar taps were stored. An explosion of glass and escaping booze covered Eagle Rook as he failed to get back up.

Fear the man who practiced one kick a thousand times.

Hippo Bishop glanced at Eagle Rook’s unmoving form before shaking his head. “Neither of you could best me on your own. I have nothing to fear from you.”

Wolf bared his clawed hands and Raven tilted his head. “You should,” growled Wolf. Wolf and Raven both leapt into the air, launching matching kicks at the Hippo’s thick armor…

----

The raven seems an unusual partner for a wolf. A bird and a canine.

But in nature, theirs is a relationship that both parties benefit from. The raven can lead the wolf to prey, and the wolf can take down larger prey for the raven to feed on. It is not strictly a food-based interaction, either. Scientists have seen the two interact playfully, even having bonds that last a lifetime.

It is an unorthodox relationship. But it is a bond that one underestimates at their own peril.

---

The two kicks land in unison, launching the Hippo through the walls of the Other Side and into a constantly shifting morass of shapes outside. It was not clear to either of the men where they had kicked Hippo to – only that it was no longer here.

Out of old reflex, Wolf and Raven slapped each other’s hand together, pulling each other close and softly headbutting one another with a light laugh.

They let go when they heard groaning from behind the bar. Eagle Rook had regained consciousness.

Eagle was kept pinned to the ground by Wolf’s boot on his chest and Raven’s on his neck. Thrud looked none too pleased either, hefting an axe almost as large as the men she was standing beside.

“…Shit,” Eagle wheezed. “Fine. What do you want?”

Wolf leaned in. “Start talking. Where is my daughter?”

-----

The kitsune’s pawn shop could barely be considered a standing structure anymore.

Half the walls had holes in them from magic missiles that Sweet Bear had fired, or kaijin that Sayuri had thrown through the. The other half were a mix of on fire or covered in burn marks.

Sweet Bear continued blasting, face covered in sweat as her body screamed at her to stop. The desperation amongst these kaijin. That they would resort to killing for a full plate of food, let alone a chance at riches! It was almost too much to bear.

The kaijin had been thinned out by this point, replaced by flunkies from Jade Chrysanthemum. Their strength wasn’t in their own power but in numbers. They seemed endless, pouring from every door and hole in the wall, climbing over each other’s bodies to get a shot in.

She was standing on a pile of goons at this point, jerking herself in every direction to keep them at bay. An exhausted Sayuri was tearing apart anyone who came too close; Fuku’s wand arm was half-limp but still getting off strong wind spells to throw the others back.

Was this what it was like during her husband’s fight? An endless flood of evil, with no hope of their ever ending; this was how he saw the world? A tide ever rising and a desperate gasp to keep above it.

Sweet Bear began charging a new spell on her wand. Maybe the fight against evil was endless. Maybe she could not continue that fight forever. But as long as she was the Magical Girl Sweet Bear, it was hers to fight.

The jewel on her staff began crackling with electricity, magic energy coalescing around it and growing ever more dense.

Fuku realized what spell she was about to cast. He frantically looked around, trying to see if Jade Chrysanthemum goons were all that were left. That question was answered when Sayuri pointed at what was left of the roof. On one of the joists left in the ceiling was the kitsune owner, who was eating handfuls of popcorn and watching the carnage from on high.

With what strength he could muster he pointed his wand at her and pulled. The kitsune was yoinked from her perch, popcorn raining down as she was sent flying into Sayuri and Fuku before a last second shield spell went up. Anything he had left was going into it and he wasn’t sure it would be enough.

The magic sphere shrank into nothingness. But the moment a goon launched himself at the staff, Sweet Bear roared. All of the pent-up energy in her staff exploded out in a light brighter than the sun. This impossible-to-look-at light radiated out at impossible speed, vaporizing anything it came into contact with. Carpet, debris, goon, it didn’t matter. All were nothing.

Fuku’s shield spell was dark enough to barely let them see Sweet Bear, and rapidly cracked under the strain. The kitsune stared at the display in a mix of awe and fear. All they could hear was the rush of wind and energy being expelled out.

When the light faded and the shield spell ended, there was no pawn store. Only a burnt-out husk exposed to the elements. And there was no Sweet Bear, either.

Yasuda Miho wheezed for breath, falling limp to the ground.