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The Star Spangled Bammer

Mountains of the Gifu Prefecture – 26 September 2009

The bodies thickened the room with musky bluster, as usual, but chill mountain air carved it out.  The hike had warmed Jun, but not nearly as much as the sight of her opponent.  She was too eerily familiar.  Jun shivered a bit.

Nothing but a plain waistband with a thong's worth of red cloth, which stretched tight between the tanned gal's legs.  Her boots matched Jun's for color – white laced with red – though they had a sparkling luster, decadently lacquered, pristine.

She yowled cheerily into the crowd and shook her free C's with their tiny pink nips.  Then turned to Jun, pointing her starry blue glove.  A twinge of fear struck her.  This boisterous girl had visible muscle, four inches on her, and no Japanese speaking skills whatsoever.

"I'm gonna star spangle your banner, Animolly!" She razzed.  "You know what they call me back home?  Back in the greatest country in the world?  The country that owns your country's ass?  Prob'ly not.  Ya don't know how to speak nothing but hokey jibber, but let me say it loud enough for ya ta undersan'.   I'm Bambi 'The Star Spangled Bammer' Sadler!  Phew!  Lotta work intraducing m'self.  Don't worry, though.  Yu'll get yer beatin'.  I'm still brimmin' with vinegar.  Enough to wallop the piss right out of your purple cooch.  Why, I'll pump ya so full of stars, yu'll make Hollywood look like Saulsbury, Tennessee!"

A cold sweat broke out in streams across Jun's forhead and even her exposed chest.  The cool air made her erect and hard.  And the fear.  She swallowed down memories of her recent failure has best she could.  Her first fight back in the Underground.  Worn out from the night before.  Wracked from the arrival.  A confident opponent.  Just like her.  Just like that bitch!

Jun stepped up.

"Try and hold back those tears for at least a couple rounds, pinky pony," Bambi cooed center ring, looking down on Jun.  "I ain't here ta rock no cradle and darn socks.  I got my big brother fer that.  Right here,  I want me a fight!"

"Good," the buxom purple pugilist growled in Japanese.

Sadler gave Jun a vicious shove and cackled as Jun struggled to keep her feet.  Crap, she's strong!

The bell rang off the metal walls.  Drunken cheers roiled.  The Star Spangled Bammer came out jumping, while Jun strode out.  The blonde's long arm extended, and she laughed at how much longer her reach was than her mini Japanese opposition.

"Got a boyfriend?" Bambi jabbered.  "Cause I think he kin do better.  Maybe I'll find 'im after I sock you silly, and give him some honeysuckl—"

Dull claret leather shut her mouth and baffled her feet stumbling.  Jun smacked her gloves together, resounding, and closed on her stunned opponent.

"Whoa'kay, you wanna fight?" she bounced, skipping invisible rope.  "I'll give ya--!"

Another jab cut her short, snapping her head.  She responded with anger and a wild haymaker.  It brushed over Jun's ponytail.  The next flailing combo slapped against Jun helter-skelter, arms and breast.  Jun jabbed again.  Bambi saw it coming and just backed out of her opponents piddly little range.  Too bad it was a feint and Jun swooped in.

The blond sucked up a surprised gasp as Jun's small, indurate fist rammed into Bambi's perky jug so hard the ribs behind it bruised.  "GAOOOWWjk--!"  In the midst of her scream, a jab pawed at Bambi's reddening nose.  She threw a jab that rocked Jun's head, but deterred her grim right hook none.  Knuckles cracked against bone, rippling the cheek, crossing the eyes, knocking the mouthpiece between her lips.  Bambi's head shook side to side, pigtails whipping, as she toppled downward like a collapsing skyscraper.

Junko yelled down at the fallen girl in her nigh perfect English, bearing her gloves menacingly.  "Where are my stars, Hollywood?!"

The Star Spangled Bammer lay still.

Remained still.

Remained cold still.

Still still.

Jun waited until…

"That… THAT'S IT!!"

*****

Squash oranges and harvest yellows adorned his loud shirt tonight.  "'Tis the season," Mittsu said, noticing Jun notice his standout attire exposed beneath his regular dark drape of a coat, which would have been a cape on a normal sized man, and a townhouse tent for Junko herself.

The Byzantine Beauty recovered from her admiration of his prettily colored shirt to glower across the way.  Just under the ring apron, Bambi lay pulled from the ring, still unconscious, head cradled in Kunie's lap.  She rummaged in her hefty leather satchel, brun with a keen gold clasp, until her hand found the object of its blind hunt.

The old doctor swiped a pinky-sized phial under her round nose.  She frowned, disappointed.  "Damn nose."  The bald organizer who had shadowed Mittsu and Jun squat on his haunches next to the medic.  "Sniff, Joru."  Quickly her hand swiped the glass under the older man's whiskered nostrils.  By the time he realized what was under him, the potent stench had kicked down the door to his sinuses like an action hero.  He recoiled as if from a hot poker in the mouth, falling on his behind, shocked to Kunie's face-creasing delight.  "That's the stuff."

After running the smelling salts under the nose of the stone KO'd blonde, said boxer lolled her mouth open.  "G... granny?"

"Sorry, Home Style," Kunie said with two delicate slaps against the groggy girl's bulging cheek. "I'm nobody's 'granny.'  Certainly not yours. How many fingers?"

"Thuhh...ree?"

"I'm not holding up any fingers."

As Kunie tended to (teased) the stupid-struck topless boxer, Jun continued her determined frown from the far wall.

"Sorry, Jun," Mittsu apologized towering next to her.  "Didn't think you'd hit her that hard."

An inch from yelling, she said… no… demanded, "Did you put me up against her because you thought I was soft?"

"N…not at all,"  Mittsu balked, not used to seeing Jun vociferate up close.  "In fact, we thought she'd be harder.  Glass chin, that one.  Whispers about keeping you in the Powder Stabl… arena did float around some.  However, the idea was shot down.  Can kinda see why now.  You sure shut up all your doubters with that one."

"She was out so fast.  What was there to see?"

"You, for one," Mittsu smiled goodly.  Jun's anger relieved a fair bit as she blushed in her red silk kimono robe.

The huge Englishman went on: "Well, I can't promise it won't happen again.  Powder Puffs abound, and we don't set the bouts."

"Who does decide whom I fight?"

His full lips struck out into a contemplative pout, black clothed bluffs on either side of his head ascending up the slope of his head.  "Whom knows?" he quipped, smirking.  Mittsu turned his attention back to the still prone American and chuckled.  "Maybe one day you'll get your chance to finish what you started?"

Jun stuck a cross look to Mittsu-sensei and his "humor."

Mittsu-sensei wouldn't lie to her.  He carried too much of his thoughts atop the subtle twitches of his craggy features.  She could see it.  She had also seen nary the flickering shade of a lie darken his mien.  Anger occasionally blowtorched unruly audience members, but always honesty.

New fighters approached.  Black gloves versus Hot Pink.

"'Scuse me, Jun."  Mittsu planted two ponderous steps, then, with a stretch, seemed to glide away, wading into the must and murk of the engorged crowd like a hippopotamus nuzzling into a silt soup lake.  With stealth unbecoming of such girth, he slid toward his target.  Jun traced his shallow set eyes and noticed a college senpai in the audience that was barely distinguishable from his jocose companions, save he was locked at the hip.

Steady.  A concealed camera.

With equal stealth, Mittsu slid up behind him and unfurled his dark shadow over the sneaky individual looking to up his blog traffic.  His target buried in his shade, Mittsu needed only look down with a gentle smirk.

You know what you did.  Shame on you.  Give it here.

All in motion and mien.

The boy wilted, unaided by his other friends, and handed over his silver flip-cam.  Mittsu then did something strange.  As if polishing the device, he rubbed it fast against his breast pocket.  Nothing more.  He simply gave it back.  Jun noted that she would have to ask about that later.

But if Mittsu-sensei wasn't in charge, then who was?  Who set her against her foes?  Jun could guess.

The man who cast no shadow.  He was coming this way.

"You could have gone further, if you liked," he said to Jun while gesturing across the room to a man, an organizer slinking through the crowd.  "No one would have blamed you."

"'Further?'" Junko blanched, some unknowledgeable portent fluttering in the back of her ponytail.

"No, I guess not," Ori reassessed.  Ever smoking.  Acrid incense smogged in the gray pall cast by the high ring lamps.  It could have been a laugh in his words, if such a thing was possible.  "Maybe someday."

Ameratsa Secondary School – 29 September 2009

At least she had won.  A win is a win.

Junko snoozed Sunday away easily between exercise and catching up on her Social Sciences homework.  And math.  And English.

After the school week started, she considered readdressing Tsukiko, but, whenever entertaining the idea, felt a smelted needle glare in her back, a glare that she dare not face.

What's more, Eiko was lurking around and talking with the voluptuous jade gem.  In light of this turn, Junko just concentrated on catching up with her studies.

Lunchtime and the snack trailer was mildly crowded because of the crisp but clear weather.  Other students hung around talking about college plans or new bands sucking or racing through pastries in tandem.

Her money was somewhere in her book bag.  She hoped it was.  She was hungry for a cherry twist bar and a quart of chocolate milk.  Fingers grasping at notes that weren't yen.  Her money was somewhere in…

"How do you think you did, -----------?"

Junko's ears were ringing.  That one hundred thousand volt name that jolted the jelly of her mind, wringing her tremulous pupils to black peas, had been spoken.

"What?" The lightning spoke.  "Oh!"

Jun swiveled her neck arduously and caught sight of the back draped in loose blond locks.

"You missed the review," said the young man.  "Sucks he just dropped it on ya right after getting back."

"Yeah, and I talked with Mr. Naranaka about that.  I couldn't get an extension, though.  I just hope he goes easy on me."

"He probably will.  He's always really good with feedback on my tests.  I even got a retake once!"

"Me, too.  He's pretty great."  Jun heard her smiling.

"Yeah.  You'll probably do fine, Izanami-san.  You work too hard on this stuff not to do good."

Shyly.  "Heh… yeah."

Izanami had returned.