Kengo's Spirit - Part 1

In the mountains of Wakayama Prefecture, it was a longstanding tradition for those who walked the Path of Spirits to bind themselves, by soul and blood, to a Guardian.

But not for Kengo.

This unfortunate shortcoming had never been more than now, as he stared down Rai from across the ring, the lights of the arena nearly blinding him. Kengo's stomach twisted itself into knots. Rai was nearly six feet of finely wrought bronze. His flashy blue tights may as well have been painted onto his skin.

Kengo, wearing a cheap black singlet (the only one he could find in his size) tried to make himself look imposing, but failed. Despite his ring training, he had never quite landed the whole ‘charisma’ thing. He was too shy to play off an audience, and though he excelled at sumo compared to his peers—or so his mother told him—he hadn’t quite landed the “spell” component of “spellbreaking". Though he was endowed with the glyph of spirit, he had none to call upon--well, none that could really help anyway.

Rai drew his hand across his mouth, wiping away excess sweat. The lights only served to make him glisten and shine, like a godly warrior.  “Let’s get this over with quickly, little cub.” Rai sneered, stretching his left arm—the arm tattooed with the tail-end of a dragon, the rest wrapping around his broad back. “Don’t worry. It’s just like at the temple. I kick your ass, you stay down, and I'll make your life a whole lot easier.”

Kengo gritted his teeth. Rai always loved trash talk.

“Not this time, Rai,” Kengo shot back. His eyes darted to the crowd, watching in respectful near-silence. He hoped to spot the talent scout who was--allegedly--watching them, supposedly recruiting for some new federation in the west. In other words, the person who would unlock Kengo’s dreams of becoming a spellbreaker was here to survey his talent. The only chance at leaving the temple grounds for good, away from an insular realm of monotonous days of spiritual contemplation and hiding from a world that would scorn him and his faith.

“You don’t seem so sure of yourself, Little Kengo.” Rai’s eyes sparkled with electricity, particles of light darting off his skin. He was ready to summon.

So far, it had been a dead heat, but Kengo suspected Rai was just toying with him at this point. He hadn’t even summoned his partner yet. Kengo had defended fine enough by using his bulk—he wasn’t an easy opponent to move. But Kengo was strong, spirit summon aside. He also had stamina and knew the trick to defeating a bulkier brawler like Kengo was in wearing them down until they were too fatigued to fight back. Then, go in for the kill--i.e. sit on him. Though this was their first match in an actual arena, Kengo and Rai had sparred many times before, both being employed at the temple grounds.

So far it, was 0 - 7.

Kengo heaved. Breathing exercises were part of his training, but when faced with a tough opponent, he tended to hold onto his air, a defensive reflex. Now, he needed a leg up. Once Rai summoned his dragon, it would be all over for him. That is, unless Kengo could beat him to the punch.

Without a spirit-bonded partner of his own, Kengo had cultivated enough good will from the local forest the last few months to earn himself a white magatama, a tear-drop shaped stone worn on a small, red string around his wrist. Rai had tactfully tried to rip it from him throughout the bout but didn’t count on Kengo being so slippery and quick footed. It also helped that Kengo was sweaty and nervous.

Kengo tugged the string, which stubbornly would not budge. He thought he heard some snickers from the crowd as he fumbled—and to his embarrassment, Rai maintained his distance, showing off his superiority by deliberately standing there and yawning as Kengo calling upon his celestial tag partner.

Finally, the string snapped, and the cold jewel found its way into Kengo’s tightly balled fist. He squeezed it tight, picturing himself exhaling light particles into the stone, charging it. Finally, he took a sumo stance, stomped the ground with his foot, and slammed the glowing ball of energy straight into the canvas.

I’ve got this, Kengo thought confidently, allowing himself to meld with the fusion of his spirit and the ghostly will of the otherworld. As summoning necessitated a certain mental state, Kengo barely heard the sudden cheer from the crowd reacting to this explosion of light and energy—the flash and spectacle they’d all come here to see. Hearing the reaction gave Kengo a trill in his heart. This was it! He was doing it! Time to be a warrior.

A circle of frost blossomed in the ring, and even Rai jumped back in surprise. Breaching this snow—as if it were a pool of water—a small, pure white fox, ethereal in nature, clawed its way from the otherworldly portal. It looked around meekly, awoken from its rest and thrust into a crowd of several hundred gawkers.

Kengo slackened his shoulders, dejectedly. “That’s…smaller than I expected.” He turned to the crowd and gave them nervous smile. They were not enthused.

From across the ring, Rai let out a peel of mocking laughter. “That’s your spirit? Kengo, I was honestly hoping you’d give me a challenge!” He shrugged and held out his arm, tensing his muscles, which rippled with electric light beneath his skin. “Oh well, let’s get this over with…”

Another flash and crack of thunder willed the audience back to life, but this explosion was louder and brighter. A fountain of blue and white sparks bloomed from Rai’s back. His tattoo, an ornate and fearsome dragon, meticulously engraved in his flesh, suddenly moved. It peeled itself off his skin, rapidly transforming from two dimensional painting to a transparent being of energy. The dragon swirled like a torrent of light and wind, unravelling in the air above the arena. Light and shadow rippled across the faces of the sunned crowd, and in that moment, Kengo—larger than most of his peers—felt very, very small.

As the dragon roared, and bore its claws, Kengo stared down at the little, white fox, who might as well have been nestled in a forest burrow. “No! Don’t just sit there. Do something!”

The fox looked up at Kengo, cocking its head to the side. After examining the eager spellbreaker, it then yawned and turned away, leaving little piles of snow in its footfalls.

It didn’t get far, however, before the serpentine dragon sprung forward with jaws and snapped the poor little creature up between its teeth. The spirit burst into a flutter of glowing motes that dispersed like a falling snowfall.

Had Kengo been soul-tethered to the poor spirit—had its will inked in his own flesh, bound by blood—he would have likely collapsed to the canvas. Instead, he just stood there, head hung in disbelief as Rai’s dragon wrapped itself around his body, putting Kengo into a vice-like grip.

It was almost unfair. Had Rai himself attempted a squeeze like this, Kengo’s bulk would have prevailed, and the young sumo would have gladly turned the tables and crushed that prettyboy hunk like a grape. Instead, the cold, formless energy compressed itself around Kengo, constricting him instantly. Kengo found himself pulled off his feet—adding to the humiliation. He squirmed and struggled in the cold grip of the dragon, trying to suppress the urge to cry out in pain as his organs started to feel the weight of the spirit dragon.

“Ask him ref!” Rai laughed, not even needing to use his own strength against his “friend”. “Oh man, this is boring!”

“Well?” the equally bored, middle-aged referee asked the poor, struggling spellbreaker. He looked like he wanted this match to end so he could just go out to the nearest izakaya and start drinking. They didn’t pay him enough to police this ridiculous shit...

Kengo bit his teeth. I must not give.. But it was too much to bear. “I give!” He cried out.

Rai feigned ignorance and blinked, cupping his hand to his ear. “What was that? Didn’t hear ya!”

The dragon leered down at Kengo, openings its jaws up and revealing the endless black within—the void of the otherworld.

“Better say something, Kengo-bear, because my dragon looks mighty hungry!”

“I GIVE!” Kengo cried out, tears in his eyes. “Please…please let me go!”

Kengo’s body fell to the canvas, stomach first. He landed like a crate of bricks. He almost wished that Rai’s dragon had knocked him out and spared him this one-sided defeat. At least, this time, he didn’t place a boot on his back like usual...

The bell rang. The announcer called the winner. And Rai showed off for his fans along with his dragon, doing loops and aerial moves above the arena for the enjoyment of the audience.

And all Kengo could remember was the cheer let out by the crowd as he summoned the (futile) fox spirit, and how in that moment he experienced the power of a true spellbreaker. He held onto that thought like a trophy, because otherwise, this night was an utter failure.

But I am not, he said to himself. I can’t be...

                                                            ___

“You were great, honey! Spectacular!”

Kengo looked up from tying the strip of bandage across his broad waist. Had Kengo’s mother, the petit woman with the tied-back hair, not seen the same match as him?

Backstage. Fans crowded around the champion spellbreakers of the evening, politely excusing themselves to the front of the metal partitions in hopes of snatching an autograph. Kengo sat behind the curtain, off to the side. The only fan to come up to him was his mother. Security let her backstage merely out of pity.

Minami’s height topped off just below Kengo’s chest, making the contrast between mother and son all the more comical, especially as Kengo—big as he was—sat and sulked in defeat. He’d already taken off his gear and changed into his street clothes, entering. He'd entered and left the locker room as quickly as he could, not wanting to meet the eyes of any other spellbreakers that evening--least of all Rai.

“Mom. I lost.”

“But you fought!” Her face glowed with pride. “Rai is very experienced in spirit summoning. He would be no match for you if it was a real fight.”

“I somehow doubt that…” Kengo sighed. He rested his chin on his hand. “There was a scout from an American fed here tonight. I was hoping…”

“Oh, don’t look so glum. American? Ha! A bunch of loud and noisy people who wouldn’t know the first thing of spirit summoning if it bit them on the nose. It’s their loss!” She patted his massive thigh. “Come now. We’ll go back to the temple. I’ll make you some grilled salmon and rice.”

“Aw.” Warmth, and a sense of homely comfort, washed over Kengo. “That does sound good. Thanks, mom. I know you’re just trying to cheer me up.”

She balled up her fists and raised them over her head in a gesture of determination. “Falling down just means getting back up again. Even champions lose now and then, you know!”

Kengo only offered her a shrug. “Oh, I forgot to ask...what excuse are you going to give Reverend Ikari for sneaking us out of the temple?” After all, this had been a somewhat clandestine affair, and the nosey priest was bound to ask questions about where three-quarters of his staff (Rai included) had wandered.

Lucky for Kuma Kengo, his mother was the brains of the operation. She waived away the notion like a gnat. “I told them I was just dropping off the new donation box at the Aonuma Shrine—which is technically true, so it’s not a lie now is it?” Her eyes caught a flurry of movement from the back, as security struggled to push away a swarm of female fans from an emerging spellbreaker. “Oh! Oh, Rai!”

Kengo cringed. Mom, no!

Rai, now thankfully covered up in a t-shirt and hoodie, blew kisses to his adoring public as he tried to gently muscle his way through the squealing girls. Finally, he breached the sea of limbs and laid eyes on Kengo. His aura quickly soured, and he looked away out of awkwardness.

Thankfully, Minami was there to cancel out the awkward with her abundant enthusiasm, more powerful than any champion spellbreaker. “Rai! Yes! Right over here! Look at me waving my hands! Look, I’m with Kengo!”

Kengo buried his face in his arms and wished his glyph granted him invisibility. “Mom. Stop.”

It was almost absurdly funny how quickly Rai shifted from badass, spellbreaking hunk to sheepish, temple servant. “Hello, Mrs. Oyama,” he demurred to the woman who had once changed his diapers.

“Yes, it’s me! Do you want a lift back to the temple, hon?”

“Mom!” Kengo blurted, as his face turned red. “He just kicked my butt!”

“That may be true, little bear, but remember that we must be gracious to our rivals.”

Her philosophies and spiritual-mindedness always came at the wrong times, Kengo thought. He didn’t even want to look at Rai, let alone talk to him.

Which was all for the best, as the champ spellbreaker appeared as if he’d suddenly laid eyes on a much more intimidating opponent—social etiquette. “Oh…uh…” He laughed nervously. Where was the cunning dragon king now, Kengo thought. “No, that’s alright, Mrs. Oyama. I appreciate all the same. I’m just going to go out with my buds and do some celebratory rounds.” He made a gesture with his hand, as if throwing back sake.

Rai moved towards the exit, and Kengo counted on avoiding him at the temple the next three to four days. Or better yet, forever. As Rai went to give Minami a polite, deep bow, he stopped and patted Kengo—hard—on the back of the neck.

“Hey, Ken. Don’t let tonight get you down, okay? I might have been a bit too cocky back there, but it was all in good fun, eh?” He winked, but there was an arrogance behind it.

“Sure.” Kengo mumbled. “Whatever you say, Rai.”

Rai squeezed the back of his neck—a mix of comradery and a reminder that he was still stronger, before the victor passed through the black curtain and out towards the stadium exit.

Likewise, Kengo and his biggest fan took their leave as well, quietly dipping out to the parking lot and navigating the sea of cars lined up outside the Wakayama stadium. They were on the road and on the way back to the mountains within minutes.

Highway lights danced over Kengo’s sullen face as he sat in the back (too big for the front) and tried to forget about what happened. He didn’t care for the city all that much anyway. Too much energy there, and too far removed from the calm of the forest and its peace. Plus, there were less spirit friends in the city—they tended to eschew urban environments due to pollution, electricity, and the overabundance of people with magickal dispositions.

People in the city also tended to look at anybody with tattoos funny. In the context of the arena, it was understood that their tattoos were their summoning conduits, but outside? They got stares. People avoided them. Drunkards on the street had even called Rai a 'filthy criminal' one time, almost leading to an altercation--and the police would never have taken their side if it had escalated further.

The quiet of the night seeped in, and for a moment, Kengo felt less bad about the evenings turn of event. Then, Minami looked back at her son in the rear-view mirror and ruined it. “That Rai is such a spirited young man isn’t he? Oh, don’t look like that, son! What happened back there in the ring is no different than when you two were kids. He was always making trouble for you wasn’t he?”

“If by trouble, you mean ‘pain.” Kengo looked out the window, watching the city lights vanish beneath the tree line. “I would just like to know what it’s like to win for once.”

“Hm. Have you tried spellbreaking in a mawashi like you do in sumo training?”

“MOM!” Kengo pulled is shirt over his face—afraid he’d turn so red he’d start glowing. He couldn’t fathom wearing his sumo wrestling gear to a spellbreaking match. ““Only the other guys ever see me in something so…you know...revealing. And it took me ages just to feel comfortable with them! I couldn’t let a crowd see my butt. I don’t know how dad did it when he was doing sumo!”

“Your dad’s butt was the reason I married him!” Minami laughed to herself. “He was such a beefy man.”

“MOM!” Kengo wanted to open the car door and throw himself into the cold, embrace of the night. Between Rai and his mother, there was just no chance at peace!

“And don’t sit there thinking you get your strength from just him—I’m the woman who had to push you out, you know!”

“AGH!” Surely, she was doing this on purpose, right?

She laughed. “Why are you so opposed to the idea anyway?”

All of that could be summed up in the spellbreaking heroes Kengo idolized, men with eight-pack abs, giant chests, and imposing physiques. “Look at guys like Rai. I’ll never look like them.”

“And why would you want to?” She let the question linger in the air. “Little bear, you have a belly. That does not mean you are not big, strong, and beautiful. I know that doesn’t mean much, coming from your mother, but still...”

Kengo said nothing, but let the words sink in all the same. While she was right, she was also his mother, and her love was unconditional. It wasn’t the same as the adoration heaped onto Rai, or any other spellbreaker out there. Kengo just wanted to be someone’s hero for once, someone that people could get excited about when he walked not the ring. But the truth was that Kengo was shy, awkward, and hadn’t even developed his magick to such a level to forge a pact with a spirit—a time honored tradition in the mountains.

So, he let the silence speak for him. Up front, Minami—eyes on the empty road—sighed. “Tonight was just a night. There will be more opportunities. Take it easy, okay?”

Next Chapter!