Why is she so theatrical?

I try to close the door quietly behind myself, but it probably doesn’t matter either way. It’s Sunday night. She’s likely knocked out cold.

I silently tread my way through the house to where her room is, entering through the ajar door and sitting in the chair by her bed.

As I had expected, no movement at all except the slow rising and falling of her chest. I could invite a marching band to play in here and she’d likely stay sound asleep. After all, on chemo days she barely has the energy to stay awake at all.

As I look at her pained face, hurting even when she’s fast asleep, I feel an agony in my heart. Why does such a misfortune have to befall such a wonderful girl? In a world with people like Dojima and his lackeys, why is it the kind and innocent who have to suffer such a fate?

“Hey Sumi. I hope you’re feeling better toda- well, of course you’re not. You never do on sundays.” Unsurprisingly, not a peep in response. Her slow, quiet breathing remains entirely uninterrupted. “I’m doing everything I can to make sure you get to live the full life you deserve, but things are… bad, to say the least. I have to do things that I’m sure you’d never forgive me for, and help some people I’m sure you’d never approve of. But if I get to see you up and smiling any time soon, every second will be worth it. I love you.”

I don’t even know why I’m talking. She can’t hear a word I’m saying when she’s like this. She’s barely more alive than a coma patient. But even if I know she can’t respond, talking to her like this… it eases my aching heart. Just a little.

“You ready to go?”

Tori speaks from behind me. I’ve delayed us enough with this detour, it’s time to get back to work.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.”

I turn around to leave with my companion, only to see her staring past me and at the girl in the bed. Her eyes are welling up, but she shakes her head and turns away from the door, beckoning me to join her.

I can’t blame her for the reaction. Other than Kou, none of my friends have ever met my sister. She’s been battling cancer for so long now, I didn’t want to put her through the stress of meeting new people until she’s recovered. She was never much of a people person anyway.

For Tori’s first time seeing Sumi to be when she’s knocked out from exhaustion like that… I’d probably tear up too.

But we don’t have time for that today.

“I’ll be guiding them along this route between 1:10 and 1:30am. I’ll “accidentally” take a wrong turn here, which is when you’ll make your attack.”

“Got it. You’re sure your guys won’t get suspicious though?”

“I doubt it, wrong turns happen a lot when you deliver through back alleys and narrow lanes in the dead of night. I can play it off pretty easily.”

“Hmm… if you’re certain.”

This is act one of our plan to keep Tori’s vigilantism going without risking the exposure of her identity. A staged attack with a pre-decided outcome, a way for me to buy more of their trust. We need this to go smoothly, otherwise everything else past this point is kaput.

“How long until you have to meet with the yakuza guys?”

“Let’s see… 25 minutes. That should give you enough time to get into position.”

“Right. Then I suppose this is where we split.”

“Indeed. But you’ll have to leave through a more subtle route. It was a risk to even have you come here, if we’re seen leaving together they’ll see through us like glass.”

“Got it. I’ll take the upstairs window, use it to get onto the rooftops. Good luck, Fuji.”

“Good luck, Tori. I’ll see you soon.”

Tori, already dressed in her Judge outfit, makes her way upstairs to look for a window. Once I hear her leave, I don my signature jacket, a leather biker jacket emblazoned with a dragon eating it’s own tail, and step out into the night.

***

“Ey, Boros, you sure this is the right way?”

“Hmm… dead end. Looks like we took a wrong turn. Let’s head ba-”

“Stop right there, criminal scum!”

Right on cue. And as theatrical as ever.

“It’s her, The Masked Judge. Boros, we’re cornered.”

“I’ll get us out of here safely, just stay out of harm.”

As Tori jumps down from the roof she’s standing on into the open lot, she and I slowly approach each other in our stance as we did the first time we confronted one another. Except this time, it’s all for show.

I take the initiative and move in towards her, throwing an axe kick towards her face. She narrowly dodges backwards, and uses my over-commitment to redirect my leg to her left, throwing me off balance. Taking advantage of my ‘slip up,’ she moves in quickly and throws a one-two at my face, which I manage to block with my arms at the last second.

I can feel how much she’s pulling her punches, and yet she looks like she’s trying just as hard as before. Her control over her strength is masterful, a skill clearly honed with hours upon hours of practice.

Realigning my feet, I meet her head on and begin slipping her barrage of strikes. The wider area than before means I have more lateral space to dodge with, allowing for a much more dynamic fight. That’ll help sell the act much better.

As she aims a head kick for my jaw, I duck and move in, using my bent knees to generate power for a lethal uppercut that would likely have not her out cleanly if it had hit.

Obviously, this is not what happens. Instead, she dodges backwards, faking a stumble as she’s ‘forced’ onto the defensive. I press the ‘advantage’ with a volley of consecutive jabs that she continues to dodge backwards, until she nears the wall of the lot and re-engages her stance. With her back now to the wall, I unleash a series of strikes with all eight limbs, while she desperately blocks the blows aimed at her vital organs.

Well, that’s what it looks like, anyway. We had decided on the order of the strikes during our preparation, and I manage to pull my hits without looking like I’m holding back, so she’s able to block each hit easily and take effectively no damage.

Now that I ‘have her on the ropes,’ it’s time for the big finish.

I chamber my left hand and throw a punch straight at her mouth, the black mask turning red in the centre from her busted lip. Well, that’s what the Yakuza men watching see, anyway. In reality, it’s just the bursting of the small blood bag Tori had been hiding in her cheek. As if her martial arts skills aren’t enough, is this girl also part squirrel or something?

Before I can throw another punch to finish her off, she makes a very convincing ‘desperate roll’ away to the left and puts a bit of distance between us.

“You win this round, Ouroboros, but I shall return with vengeance!”

This chuuni girl, how much battle shounen does she watch?

For a second I begin to make chase, but she uses a low wall to get back to the rooftops and escape from sight before I can feasibly catch up.

I turn back to the cowering Yakuza members, and slowly walk back into the lot, a fake look of dejection on my face, and my left arm cradling my (uninjured) right.

“Good work fighting her off, Boros. Just a shame you couldn’t finish the job.”

“I had her dead to rights, but she’s just too damn fast. She’s a formidable opponent.”

“If she managed to hurt even you, that must be the case. If she’s going to continue making trouble for us like this, we may be requiring your services more often in the near future.”

“That would be wise. I have my doubts that any of your fighters would last long against her.”

Perfect. They bought every second of it.