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by RisanF
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Drama · #1163535
Teen street fighters Park and Risan clean up the town and their lives.
Psych Masters: It's Not Such a Bad Life

By Reid M. Haynes


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This is an old story from back in my high-school days, starring characters close to my heart. It's probably closer to anime than my last story, with a good dose of martial arts action thrown into the mix. Hope it's enjoyable.

Park and Risan, from "Psych Masters."


This story is dedicated to the ever-tormented thoughts of the individual, struggling with morality and reality.


*****


         That noise again.

         The rhythmic tapping of water drops echoed inside Park’s ears, stirring the boy from his short-lived slumber. He rose from the weathered wood floor he usually slept on to run through the motions of the morning, all but ignoring the battered pipe that sweated constantly through the early dawn. Due to some phenomenon, the pipe always chose to start leaking at the same time every morning. It was just as well, anyway. An extra reminder to cease his sleep was actually welcome; it served as his makeshift alarm clock.

         He continued his routine, taking his dingy gray overalls from its place on the broken chair that served as the only furniture in the vacant shack in which he lived. He stepping into the pants leg, and pulled the straps over his small shoulders. Adorning his spiky red bangs was his ever-present brown hat. The final touch was the yellow scarf that had become his trademark and reminder of the past; of a day when he could sit under the large tree in the park with the one he loved, trusting that no one would hurt him.

         Sounds of footsteps shook Park from his reverie, prompting him to turn to the other occupant; Risan, the violet-haired youth that Park lived with. His tattered blue jacket and faded jeans were disarrayed and rumpled, indicating he had slept in his clothes again. Walking up to Park, Risan brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes, a motion that had only minimal success, due to the stubbornness of his wild hair. It always seamed to be in a permanent fritz, and no amount of brushing seemed to make it otherwise.

         “You’re up finally,” Risan commented casually as he briefly stretched out his taunt muscles. “People here are usually up before sunrise.”

         “I guess I’m unaccustomed to waking up so early,” Park replied to the light scolding. “Back at the McLanus’, everything was a lot slower. You know, pancakes with syrup, orange juice, that sort of thing.”

         “You’ve adjusted to everything else in this life,” The young man said, metaphorically brushing the rumples from his clothes. “But after three months, you still have to be woken by that pipe.”

         "Maybe it’s because Joy always used to wake me when…” The words trailed off as Park closed his green eyes, deep in thought.

         Upon the change in the mood, Risan softened. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, putting his hand on his companion’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t have reminded you of those times.”

         "It’s okay,” Park replied, looking up again. “The past doesn’t hurt me as much as it used to.” He walked to the door. “We better get going if we’re planning on going to the bathhouse.”

         “Right,” Lapsing into silence, they abandoned the shack, making good time to the bathhouse.

*****


         Sweat covered Park’s body as he prepared to wash. Using a small bar of soap, he rubbed off the excess dirt from his body, going over every area several times. It surprised him that his form still looked so soft, almost feminine in fact. Although fifteen, he had only recently broken 5.6, and his face still retained the appearance of someone much younger. It still surprised Park, but didn’t really bother him much anymore. He knew how old he was and, contrary to his appearance, he was no weakling.

         Having finished, he turned to Risan, who was leaning against a wall with crossed arms. It didn’t surprise him that was already done; he usually only gave areas a quick once-over with his soap. He still wasn’t used to washing thoroughly, as Risan led the kind of life where personal hygiene took a back seat due to expenses.

         “I’m ready,” Park called out to him, preparing to dry off. “Let’s go.”

         “We still have a couple of minutes,” Risan glanced back, retaining his position. “You’d better relax while you can. We have a long day ahead of us.”

         Heading Risan’s advice, he let his body go slack, feeling the hot water caress him. The world was lost in a sensation of calm, as Park let his troubles escape like so much steam, which was in ample quantities in the room. He heaved a sigh of tranquility, totally letting himself go.

         Only until much later did Park notice Risan looking at him, his face speaking of unanswered questions. “What's up?” he asked, curious as to what was bothering him.

         “Park, do you miss your old life?” The question surprised him, as Risan usually didn’t go into matters concerning Park’s past.

         “Why do you ask?” he responded, still trying to make sense of Risan’s troubled look.

         “Well, your old life was a much more passive existence. I mean, this lifestyle doesn’t offer you much in the way of conveniences.” Risan looked a bit nervous, even a little bit guilty.

         He was right, to a point. Park could’ve been taking his time in a private spa, instead of a dingy bathhouse. Eating heartily instead of frugally. Living near picket fences and families of four with little Terrier dogs. Instead, he was living in a dilapidated shack in the middle of the slums. He could’ve been in paradise. But he was giving it up for hard-ship and struggle.

         Then again, he never again had to deal with the mocking laughter of those that thought him weak because of his size. Never again did he feel the jealous envy of watching another qualify for the breaks in life, while he only got obligation. Never again did he have to baby-sit for the sister of his only love, who was leaving him to love another.

         Barely more than a continuing cycle of heartbreak, rejection shoved into his face almost every minute of his days.

         “No.” Park smiled at Risan. “I don’t miss it at all.”

*****


         The shadows vanished as daybreak melted into noon, and the two were walking the dingy streets of their home turf Morvaria City like a pair of wild wolves.

         Really, they were searching the dingy streets. Park’s keen eyes were alert, scanning every alleyway like a computer scanning data. Risan was also taking everything in, peering through corridors as if one of them held the secrets of the universe in its grasp. Periodically, they’d survey rooftops as well. Every detail was taken in, including sounds. A change in the wind was noticed. The sound of dropped change hitting the gravel rang in their ears.

         “No! Stay back!” The pleading voice triggered a klaxon in Park’s mind. It was westward, one block from his current position, at an intersection of 12th and 5th: the abandoned alleyway. When no one could hear you scream. As if anyone would care.

         Time to go to work.

         Sparing no time, Park took long strides in the general direction of the sounds, with Risan on his heels. When he reached a storefront, he briefly crouched to gain jump power, then leaped toward a broken flagpole jutting outwards. Grabbing it, he used his momentum to start swinging around the pole, with all the competence of a professional gymnast. After three revolutions he let go, sending him head over heels towards the roof of the store. Completing the somersault, he landed on the roof with ease and resumed his run with smooth transition.

         “Leave us alone!” Park continued towards the cries of distress, which were much closer now. Risan was running beside him, having easily caught up. When they reached the edge of the building, they took a leap towards another rooftop, spanning the distance between them quickly. Finally, they arrived at their destination. Both of them stopped to look at the situation below.

         Two children, a boy and a girl, were huddled in the corner of the alley; probably brother and sister, due to their hereditary traits. Closing in on them were two disreputable looking men, looking to be in their late teens to early twenties. The first one brandished a length of chain, stretching it like a noose. The other was beating a lead pipe against his palm in an arrogant manner. Both had sadistic sneers pasted on their craggy faces, clearly anticipating the upcoming events.

         “Please stop!” The girl squeaked out, shivering in fright behind the boy.

         “I told you, we don’t have any money!” The boy was doing his best to remain strong for her sake, but it was obvious that he was just as scared as she was, if not more.

         “Don’t give us that crap, kid!” The pipe wielder snarled, and the boy backed up a bit. “You know the rules here in the Gallows.”

         “We’ve told you all a thousand times,” The chain wielder joined in, with an odd patronizing touch to his voice. “You don’t pay the Tide, we take it out of your hide.” He snickered at his own cleverness.

         “Don’t!” The girl called out again, peeking out from the boy’s back as their antagonists started moving in.

         “Let’s go!” Park launched himself from the rooftop on a trajectory to the pipe wielder. When he reached the thug, he deftly swept the pipe from his grasp, while simultaneously spiraling around to fire a kick at the man’s jaw. THRACK! the attack connected, sending him sprawling away. Park finished his mid-air twirl to land on his feet, instantly shifting into a combat stance, prepared to shield the two from harm.

         “You’re not welcome here,” he said, glaring sternly at the fallen man, who was holding his aching jaw in a grimace of pain. “Leave them in peace.”

         "You miserable little…!” the man bit out, spiting out the blood that secreted from his wounded gums. But he didn’t move to attack. They knew Park and Risan too well for that.

         “I suggest you stay down,” Risan said, having already subdued the chain wielder. “I’d love to kick your butts over this hell-hole. But my friend doesn’t like it when I give in to excessive violence.” He motioned to Park, who remained in his stoic battle position. “So if you all remain nice and quiet and just walk away, you’ll save me the pleasure of beating the ugly out of you.” With a bloodthirsty grin, he cracked his knuckles to show that he was absolutely serious.

         The two hoodlums staggered to their feet uncertainly, in a conflict between running and fighting. Risan made up their minds for them.

         “Now, get lost!” He tossed the chain in the general direction of the thugs, and they took off in a mixture of fear and anger.

         After they left, the boy came up to Park and Risan. “Wow!” he burst out, all signs of his previous panic gone from his face. “You guys are so cool! Man, those were some sweet moves!”

         “Hmph…” Risan turned his back on the kid brusquely. Park almost laughed. For all his toughness and moodiness swings, Risan was unaccustomed to accepting compliments. Nevertheless, the scene had calmed down, now that the danger was over.

         A sound of desperate sobbing sounded, darkening the mood again. Park turned to see the girl curled up in a corner, crying her eyes out. He mentally kicked himself for forgetting to tend to her. Tact and compassion was needed now, not jokes.

         “It’s all right,” he assured, walking up to the hyperventilating girl. He offered a hand to the child, who shrunk back from it in fear and mistrust. A gentle smile melted onto his face. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.”

         Apprehensively, she took his hand, and he pulled her up. “There you go,” Park said reassuringly as the girl wiped her eyes. “You’d better run home. Your parents are probably wondering about you…” …and suddenly he was the receiver of a crushing embrace. The girl clutched onto him, her tears renewed with relief. He enveloped her in his arms, softly whispering. “It’s all right. Everything’s all right…”

*****


         Three skirmishes later, Park and Risan were walking through the mid-afternoon sun, perspiring heavily. Their garments were more worn, and Park had a rip in his shirt where someone had thrust with a switchblade. But otherwise, they were unharmed and quite spry. Amazing so, in fact, since they had been up to the same stuff as their fight in the alleyway all that afternoon.

         “It’s been a pretty easy day for us so far,” Park noted casually to a somewhat disappointed Risan. “We’ve only had to fight five at most each battle. I would've thought they’d called their allies on us by now.”

         “Yeah, too bad,” Risan growled, clenching his fist in frustration. “I was looking for a good brawl today. But those Tideys are acting like pussycats.”

         The Tide was one of the most ruthless gangs in Morvaria City, known to keep the town under their thumb at all times. Everyday, they would wreak havoc on the civilians, just to show them that they could. It was because of their heinous acts that this section of town was known as the Gallows. The police had all but given up hope on restoring order to it, and the Gallows was sectioned off for the city like an amputated arm.

         At least that’s how it was. Ever since Park moved in with Risan three months back, the situation started changing. When he had taken the job of cleaning up the streets, he felt a bit of trepidation. After all, this gang had one the most merciless reputations in the Gallows, which was already a dangerous place. And Park was less experienced in actual combat situations. True, recent events in his life taught him all the physics of throwing a hook correctly, and his reflexes were quickly improving. But all of that was meaningless if you froze up just as the enemy was raising his weapon to crack your skull.

         Risan helped make it possible, though. Experienced in the ways of street life, he could hold his own against an entire group of “Tideys”, as he liked to call Tide members. When he decided to help, Park was initially surprised; Risan didn’t play the gallant type. He never seemed to show remorse or pity for those that were assaulted, either. And it was hard work too: teaching Park how to fight in a real battle, struggling to disable a crook before the trigger was pulled, and doing it all nonstop, seven days a week.

         But it was all worth it in the end. Children now dared to play in the streets. Smiles now crossed mothers’ faces, instead of worry. And although it was seldom spoken about, Park could tell that Risan was pleased about the good they had done. Though he was mainly in for the thrill of the fight, Risan didn’t like seeing people suffer any more than Park did.

         They continued moving through the city, which reverberated with the normal noises of people living their lives. When they reached the crosswalk, Park broke the silence.

         “It’s been almost an hour since our last fight,” he said gingerly, careful with his words. “And we haven’t seen any sign of the Tide whatsoever.”

         “And…” Risan prompted him suspiciously, shifting his eyes to look at him. “What are you trying to get me into?” He crossed his arms impatiently.

         “What do you say if we knock off the rest of the day?” he finally suggested, and Risan raised an eyebrow. “Hey, here me out for a second!” Park half-whined, prompting an oath of disapproval from Risan.

         Park kept up the fight. “Look, neither of us can fight all the time,” he argued calmly. “And we can check up on some of our friends, too.”

         Risan sighed in submission. “Oh, alright,” he gave in. “Got nothing better to do anyway.” The crosswalk light turned green, and the two moved on. “I suppose you want to head to that skaters' dive again.” he continued. “Probably to check up on your tomboy friend.”

         “Come on!” Park protested, defending the tomboy in question. “She’s just different from most girls.”

         Risan seemed to accept the response, but soon went onto another point, determined to be belligerent. “You know that pervert is going to be there as well.” The warning caused Park to turn his head. “Do you really want to put up with him?”

         Park considered this for a moment before responding. “Well, he’s our friend too.”

*****


         The skate park known as Aerial Alley was alive with many young daredevils ready to test their mettle, They were gathered in small groups, trying out their techniques on the various ramps and rails that cluttered the site, all the while striving to better their opponents. A 360-degree kick-flip was met with a railing grind followed by a mid-air 180 turn. That too was topped by an impressive aerial spin utilizing a small ramp. This continued on and on between the competitive skaters.

         One of the skaters, a short haired girl, was doing considerably better than those around her. She had an impressive display on the half-pipe that was beginning to turn heads. They observed how she had two skateboards rolling simultaneously; one of them supporting the rider, the other left alone on a carefully planned trajectory. Every now and again, the girl would switch to the alternate board, often times in the middle of a stunt.

         This continued for some time, the girl changing boards over and over again, all the while managing to keep them exactly where she wanted. Quite a crowd was beginning to form, as skaters ceased their activities to watch her. The grand finale was a death-defying midair twist. She corkscrewed in the air two times before letting go of the board.

         Turning a flip to right herself, she directed her feet to smoothly fall to the other board, landing on it without so much as a waiver in balance. At last, she dug the back of the board into the ramp, slowing it to a stop.

         The girl’s efforts were met with raucous applause, which she took in stride. Board in arm, she proceeded to welcome Park and Risan, having arrived at Aerial Alley just in time to watch the show.

         “Hey, ya finally showed up!” she greeted cheerfully. “’Bout time you took my invitation.”

         Park smiled at her. “Hey, Chill,” he said, brushing the back of his head nervously. “Sorry, I’ve been kinda busy these days.”

         “Ah, you mean kickin’ those Tide guys around,” She smirked knowingly, and Park nodded his head. “One of these days, you should take me along. I’d love to show them what for!”

         Park grinned at her. Despite her rough attitude, he knew that Chill was a kind soul that hated bullies. Plus, she had a lighter side to her that helped to bring Park out of the gutter when he was feeling down. In addition, she was one of the most talented boarders he had ever seen. Even with the heavy physical training he did nowadays, he still couldn’t quite match her prowess.

         “Those were some amazing moves you pulled,” he told her. “How’d you learn all that?”

         “Practice, practice and more practice,” she waved off his compliments. “It’s really nothing when you’ve spent three years perfecting it.”

         “Ahem…” Park turned to see Risan, tapping his foot irritably.

         Chill eased towards him nonchalantly. “Whatsa matter, tough guy?” she teased, poking his forehead in jest. “Feeling left out?” She laughed a little, and Risan gave her a smirk of nonchalance.

         She then scooped up another board and offered the pair to Park and Risan. “Hey, why don’t you two try these out?” She asked, folding her arms behind her head. “Show me whatcha got!”

         Park was about to answer her, when a loud thud pierced his ear. He whirled around to see a blond teenager hit the pavement, courtesy of a pretty brunette who was just finishing her follow-through.

         “And if you ever talk that way to me again, I’ll mess you up much worse that this!” she snarled, brushing her long tresses in disgust.

         “Hey baby, don’t get your gears in a knot!” the boy jibed, recovering quickly from the hay-maker. “All I was saying is maybe could ditch this joint for somewhere more private. You know…” He started to leer at her amorously. “Somewhere where I can show you my real talents…”

         “I'll show you MY real talents, you jackass!” Park spun from the ugly display of violence. When it was over, he gaped at the teen, lying in a twisted heap. “PMS…” he groaned as he stumbled to his feet. “I hate that time of the month.”

         The boy wiped the gravel from his T-shirt, careful about his appearance. Next, he whipped out a hand mirror from his pocket; cracked, due to his most recent embarrassment. He observed it for a second, then pulled a small black comb from its place at his right ear, carefully stroking his matted locks with all the proficiency of a brain-surgeon.

         “Still got it.” At last satisfied with his appearance, he put his articles away, even though a clump of hair still hung over his left eye. But judging from his demeanor, Park could tell he really preferred it that way.

         “Damn,” Risan muttered under his breath as the boy strode coolly up to them. “Here we go.”

         “Tell me about it,” Chill grumbled back.

         “Hey hey hey!” the teen said, slamming his hand on Park and Risan’s shoulders. “If it ain’t Parky Park and the Riz-Meister! What’s goin’ down!?”

         “Hi, Slick,” Park began politely, while Risan shrugged off the offending hand. “Are…you okay?” he proceeded to say, examining the bruised form of his friend.

         "Ah, it ain’t no big deal!” Slick flicked his hair in a vain gesture, a carefree expression on his face. “Just the everyday perils of bein’ a bachelor.”

         “Blow off, Slick,” Chill grumbled out, an annoyed frown on her lips. “No one wants to hear about your failures.” Chill wasn’t too fond of Slick.

         “You’re jes mad ‘cause you don’t get any of my loving attentions,” he chimed, grinning evilly. “But maybe my kid cousin up north will know what to do with your nasty self!”

         “Why you…!” Chill cursed angrily, shaking her fist in Slick’s direction. “I’ll show you a thing or two! Come next competition, I’ll whup your ass into dog-meat!”

         Not only was Slick the local womanizer, he was also Chill’s professional rival. Both of them sought to gain the title of Master in the Circuit, the famous skating club. He was the only skater that could match Chill’s skill, grind for grind.

         Both of them were taken from their argument by the unmistakable noise of wheels against gravel. Their mouth dropped open as they observed Risan pulling various stunts with a board, attracting his own flock of spectators.

         “Quite a performance,” Park noted.

         “He ain’t bad,” Chill said, impressed.

         “I could top him,” Slick mumbled, stubbornly clinging to his ego.

*****


         Two hours later, the duo was welcomed by a beautiful sunset as their silhouettes followed them home to their flat. The subdued twilight was a melancholy, but peaceful sight for Park and Risan, the perfect compliment to their own ironic lives. Thoughts were muddled, but not tormented; Park's mind drifted between random thoughts like a skiff. It had all turned into a warm soup in his head; perfect for a pleasant, lazy evening.

         “Risan, I’m beat,” Park moaned, sluggishly drugging onward. “Let’s call it a day, huh?”

         “Fine by me,” he respond weakly, no better off. “Hours of street-fighting I can handle. But if I do one more kick turn, my heels will split.”

         “Park!” The cry of a female voice was heard in back of them. “Park, wait!” A flaxen haired girl was rushing towards them, her ponytail swaying riotously behind her head. She looked to be in her late teens, although she had seemed to have a taste for girlish attire. The cobalt bow in her hair, matching skirt, and pink jacket all marked her as the stereotypical “girl next door.”

         Joy.

         “Park, aren’t you even going to say ‘hi?’” Joy questioned him, still panting from her expenditure of energy. “I haven’t seen you in days! Or longer!”

         “Hi.” Park took a step back, a trace of apprehension in his tone. A long silence took place as he struggled with the right words. “Um…did you want something…?” he finished, almost in a whisper.

         “I wanted to ask if you wanted to go to the skating rink…or something,” she scratched her heel nervously, paying no heed to his own fear. “I…I really miss you, and so does Penn and everyone else.” She ended by putting her hand on his shoulder.

         “Thanks.” The boy looked away, trying to end the conversation as quickly as possible. Incidents like this brought up memories of the past. Some were happy, but the ones that were most clear to him had driven him to the Gallows.

         Suddenly, her finger poked through a rent in his clothes, grazing his skin. Park nearly panicked. He forgot all about the switchblade cut. That last thing he felt like was a confrontation.

         “What’s this?” Joy questioned worryingly, probing about the small rip. Suddenly, her face cleared with realization. “Oh Park, you’ve been fighting again, haven’t you?” Her palm stroked his face tenderly. “Are you hurt?”

         Park mentally froze up, as he tended to do when exposed to her touch. Every second of her presence was detracting from his composure. “Joy…please don’t.” he managed to croak out, cautiously removing her hand from his cheek. He refused to meet her gaze. Why is she doing this to me? he wondered to himself. She said she couldn’t love me that way, and now she does this?

         “Damn it Joy, he dosen’t want you here!” Risan voiced his thoughts for him, albeit harsher that Park would have done. “Just leave him alone!”

         “Oh, so he can go off and get himself killed in one of your stupid brawls?!” Her face was contorted in righteous anger. “How dare you drag him into your deplorable lifestyle!” Joy hated Risan, Park knew that much.

         And the feeling was mutual. “Shut up!” he snapped back. “He makes his own decisions! You’re not his keeper!”

         “Park, just come back home with me.” Ignoring Risan, Joy turned her attentions back to the boy. “Everyone wants you back. I…want you back. Please?” she begged him, staring into his eyes when he didn’t reply. “Park, answer me!”

         The offer did touch Park’s heart. To think he could just go on back as if he had never left, enjoy pancakes with syrup, orange juice, picket fences with families of four with little terriers dogs…

         But that was impossible. To pretend that nothing had happened between them was an evident impossibility. He would just end up reliving the cycle that almost destroyed him before. He would just end up babysitting her little sister, while watching her leave to love another.

         He couldn’t go through that again.

         “Joy…I can’t,” Park told her, finding the courage to be firm. “This is my life now. This is where I’m needed.”

         Joy’s anguished tears reflected Park’s solemn face. A drop barely escaped from her eyes before she spun away in crippling frustration. “So that’s it,” she spoke out finally, her arm moving to wipe the tear from her face. “You’re just going to leave and forget all about me, aren’t you? Well I won’t let you!” she faced him again with fury borne of heartbreak. “I won’t let you throw away everything for that hooligan!”

         “Beat it, girl,” Risan’s thumb jerked out, motioning in the general direction of the residential area in which she lived. “Go run to Daddy and cry.”

         She ran quickly, as if wanting to escape reality in the fervor of her escape. Park watched her go, with sadness, loss, and a certain peace filling within him. Maybe she was finally gone from his life. Maybe he could start anew.

         “Don’t look back.” Risan was beside him, gripping his shoulder. “Let the memories go.” But Park continued gazing at the street where she was present only a moment before.

         “Do you still love her?” Risan asked.

         Park’s head fell. “I don’t even know anymore,” he answered simply.

*****


         Night had fallen at last, but the duo had a few more blocks to go before reaching home. Park was silent for most on the journey, submerged in thoughts about the Gallows, the constant battles, and Joy. Risan knew better than to disturb him, so he kept to himself as well. The air was heavy with the pondering of cheerless thoughts as they turned the corner.

         And then they were face to face with a hoard of young men, all of them with unruly postures. There were about thirty of them and, judging from the insignia that they all shared on their clothes, they were Tideys. Yes, Park could see that the two thugs from before had returned, wielding another set of weapons that replaced the lost pipe and chain. The others were also brandishing implements of pain; mostly gang items like pipes, chains, brass knuckles, and such.

         Standing at the head was the leader, whom Park knew only as Gauge. He was actually a mere boy, not much older that Risan. His maroon jacket was rolled up in preparation of mayhem, and his arms were crossed arrogantly. Long raven hair sent shadows across his bronze face, wild dangerous eyes seeming to shine from underneath.

         “You waiting for us?” The rhetorical question was unnecessary, Park knew, but he had to at least try to avoid any unnecessary conflict.

         Gauge’s smile cut off all notions of those fleeting thoughts. His lip curled wickedly, showing off unnaturally sharp canines. “You might say that,” he spoke in an eerily polite voice, like a vampire just about to sink his fang into the flesh of a young maiden. “It seems you’ve been picking on some of our good friends here,” he mocked, motioning to the inferred persons. “Now, we can’t have any of that, can we? We must come to an agreement.” The others nodded, demonic smiles fixed onto their faces as well. All in all, the scene resembled a calling of devils ready to serve their master.

         “Get to the point, chump!” Risan challenged, not fazed in the slightest. “You came to fight, right? So let’s get it on now.” Risan went into his battle position, and Park followed suit. Surprisingly, Risan was actually smiling, despite the overwhelming odds. “I’m glad you Tideys are here,” he said, the death-grin remaining on his face. “I need a good excuse to tear someone apart.”

         “I couldn’t agree more.” Gauge returned Risan’s sentiments with equal fervor.

         Park and Risan stared down Gauge and the rest of the Tide. Likewise, the gang was sizing them up, preparing for carnage. The opposing combatants dove at each other…

         And the battle begun.

         Park maneuvered around an overhead tonfa, which cut the air where the boy once was. His left back-fist collided on the Tidey’s temple, knocking the man into a dazed spin. Another one attempted a lunge at Park’s midsection, trying to tackle him. But he simply sidestepped out of the way, and the would-be-grappler fell on his own accord. Park’s right palm intercepted a face punch, and his left caught a club from a different assailant. He lashed out with a back-kick that dug into the man’s gut. The other one’s club was ripped from his hand to be used against him, disposing of the threat. Park tossed the weapon he took at the head of an incoming enemy, and ducked to avoid a baseball bat. After subduing him with an elbow to his maw, he danced around the chain link of yet another Tidey, and grabbed the hair of a fighter sporting brass knuckles. He manipulated the man’s head in his grasp to send it into another Tidey’s, cracking their skulls together.

         A quarterstaff was dodged, and countered with an open-palm jab. A jagged dagger was kicked out of an aggressor’s grip, and a knee was delivered into the hip. The battle was a blur now, but Park remained relatively calm, having experienced this magnitude of strife beforehand. He could sometimes catch a glimpse of Risan in his peripheral vision, who was holding his own as well. Fists ricocheted back and forth like pistons, stopping their assault only to knock away the advancing arm of any Tidey lucky enough to even start their strike. Risan was livid with an inhuman rage, letting out animal screams with every swing, loving every minute of it.

         Gauge himself now joined the fray, dashing eagerly towards Park. Pulling out a battle-axe, of all weapons, he prepared a chop at Park’s neck. Just in time, he directed a lead pipe he obtained into the weapon path, stopping its descent. After the initial clash, Park swung the pipe at Gauge’s arm, hoping to disable him. Gauge was better than that, however, and easily deflected it with a simple turn of his axe. The axe then flew at Park’s naval, but the pipe was raised just in time.

         They took turns trying various moves on each other, axe versus pipe, in an odd sort of duel. And all the while, additional Tideys were advancing, determined to score in on the action. Park ducked, kicked, swung, blocked, punched, kicked, blocked, punched, ducked, swung, blocked…

*****


         Sprawled on the floor of the shack, Park tried his best to get to sleep. It should’ve been easy, in that the leaky pipe never dripped at this time of night. But the recent fight had incited his adrenaline, which flowed through his system even now, half an hour later. His memories of the struggle were already vanishing. All he really knew is that a gang of about thirty Tideys had taken on Park and Risan.

         And the gang had lost. Utterly. Beaten by two kids, who didn’t have a scratch to show for it.

         It was really amazing in retrospect, the abilities that Park shared with Risan. Perfect reflexes combined with excellent technique and speed left them second to none when it came to fighting or other such physical tests. They were unstoppable and maybe even dangerous; it was lucky they still had enough sense about them to contribute their talents to helping the community rid itself of the gang-wars.

         It was still a bit of a lifestyle change, though. Park really had to give up all the elements of his old life. Quitting his job, dropping out of school, and leaving Joy, all to support his training and fighting. Was it worth it? He hoped so. He hoped that he was needed in the grand scheme of things.

         He couldn’t get to sleep.

         Still full of energy, Park stood up and walked outside into the brisk night air. A full moon shone down, moonbeams illuminating the buildings before him, giving him an almost ethereal view of the Morvarian cityscape. He faced this aurora of brilliance with a philosophical manner in his form. He took off his hat, fingering it subconsciously with his index finger. It was only after ten minutes that Park noticed he wasn’t alone.

         “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?” Risan was leaning against a lamppost, staring at the city lights as well.

         “Nah,” Park continued his study of the skyline. Risan moved up beside him.

         “I guess it was a busy day after all,” he commented, and Park thought over it. Yes it was a busy day, very grueling at some parts. And it would start all over again tomorrow.

         “Wow! You guys are so cool!”

         “Let’s go!”

         “One of these days, you should take me along.”

         “It’s alright. Everything’s all right.”


         He wouldn’t have it any other way.

         Park and Risan continued their vigil over the town, their town. One day, the Tide would finally be gone. Life could only get better then. Maybe they could spend more time in Aerial Alley with Chill and Slick. Who knows, maybe someday Park could enroll in school again. Perhaps Risan might join him someday; Park knew that Risan sometimes ached to lead a normal life.

         As Park looked on, trivial worries vanished, replaced by hopes for the future. Soon, those hopes combined into one simple summery. One thought was left in his complacent mind.

         It’s not such a bad life.
© Copyright 2006 RisanF (risanf at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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