2 comments/ 3330 views/ 4 favorites Bachiko the Grappler Ch. 01 By: KatieTay Author's note: This series is my homage to the manga and anime series, "Baki the Grappler". Yes, I know there are about 3 different mangas and I think 2 different animes with different titles, but I'll just call the whole thing "Baki the Grappler". So, meet Bachiko. Any resemblance to the original work in terms of characters, plot and theme is entirely intentional. I hope fans of the series will enjoy my homage! IMPORTANT NOTE: The original character Baki is 13 years of age at the beginning of the series. Bachiko is a 21-year-old girl. *** Almost every time Kaito descended the stairs and approached the door to the basement, whenever their new tenant was around, he'd hear the same few sounds: the clank of iron, the grunts of exertion, the tortured creaking of metal upon metal. Their tenant never seemed to stop training during the evenings, and sometimes late into the night. And what an odd tenant! Kaito had never before known anyone like her. On the day she first appeared in their home, in response to the online ad he'd helped his mom to post, he hadn't been able to stop staring. His mom had shot him dirty looks repeatedly as they sat, seiza-style, at the table. He was being rude. It wasn't his fault he had never before seen a girl who was so... muscular! Bachiko - and that was her name, what a strange one it was - had sat there, politely explaining that she would actually prefer the basement to an upper-floor room, because she would be moving in some heavy equipment that she used for her training. She asked if the basement was soundproofed sufficiently, because she would not like to disrupt the peace of the house with the noise she would inevitably make. To Kaito's immense surprise, his conservative uptight mother seemed to have taken a shine to her. The same Naoko who pursed her lips at the high skirts of ganguro girls in downtown Shibuya, the Naoko who shook her head in mute disapproval at the divorce rates, the Naoko who regarded the infamous Kabukicho red-light district as a stain upon the country... that same Naoko didn't seem to mind at all that Bachiko was wearing a skimpy spaghetti-strap camisole and cutoff jeans. Bachiko's physique was on full display, and Naoko talked and laughed with her as if she were an old family friend! "Where are you from originally?" his mother had asked her, in a kindly way. Bachiko had looked down modestly and said that she had been living in the Tohoku area, in Honshu, for most of her life. When asked about her family, a shadow seemed to cloud her eyes, and she was evasive. Her parents were alive, she had said, but she didn't have much contact with them. Naoko - who was known to complain with her friends about the disintegration of traditional family values in modern Japanese society, and who always grilled Kaito's friends about their own families - had only nodded in sympathy and had not pressed the issue. Kaito was frankly astonished. "Hanma Bachiko..." Kaito had said her name aloud at one point. "Your parents must have been very happy to have had you!" He had beamed, glad that he was making a positive contribution to the conversation. That was what her name meant - "Happy Child". Surely a good talking point? Silence had ensued. Bachiko had retained a polite smile on her face, but Naoko was glaring daggers at him. Kaito was familiar with that look - privately he called it the "I will make you die the Death of a Thousand Knives" look. He had elected to remain quiet for the remainder of the interview. His mother had always been the far more adept socializer anyway - he was just a computer nerd after all, what was he expected to know about social graces? He was practically a walking cliché, he knew, with his otaku-level of interest in the Robotech universe and his current major in Advanced Robotics at the Tokyo University of Technology. Foot-in-mouth wasn't a disease with him, it was a congenital condition. He'd come to accept himself a long, long time ago. The upshot of it all was that Bachiko was welcomed into the Ishida household with wide open arms. She was embarrassed about being given an upper-storey guest room in addition to the basement, but Naoko was not having her tenant sleep in the basement. She said it would shame her as a landlady. Bachiko would sleep in the room at the end of the second-floor hallway, beside Kaito's own room. Naoko had also volunteered Kaito's assistance with regard to the matter of the "heavy training equipment". "It's about time he took up the role of a man in this house!" she had declared, a clear signal that saving face for her son in front of girls was very low indeed on her list of priorities. "He could do with some exercise anyway. He never comes out of his room when he's at home, he's always fiddling around with his toy robots instead of engaging in good healthy outdoor activity, like baseball, or soccer! I wish he had a strong, healthy body like you!" she had laughed, reaching out to touch Bachiko's bulging triceps lightly. "Ooh," her eyes had widened slightly in surprise, and her fingers lingered a little. "Your arm is... is so hard... Oh, I'm so terribly sorry, I don't mean to embarrass you!" "That's, um, that's ok, Ishida-san," Bachiko had said, smiling to put the blushing Naoko at her ease. In the end, it had been utterly humiliating for Kaito, from his point of view anyway. He could barely assist in moving a few items, until Bachiko had, not unkindly, told him that the sun was blazing (it was a cloudy day) and he ought to rest and not exert himself too much when he was clearly not feeling well. He had gratefully accepted, and then had proceeded to sit outside his door and mentally catalog the items Bachiko and the burly van driver were carrying into the basement. He didn't know the name of everything he saw, but he found out some time later that Bachiko had carried in: 1 bench press set 1 power cage with movable safety bars and attached pull-up bars 1 adjustable workout bench 1 kettle bell set, total weight 180lbs 1 set of Olympic weight plates, total weight 700lbs (this had to come on the second trip the van made) 1 speed bag 1 double end bag 2 medicine balls, total weight 50lbs 3 Olympic barbells 1 hex bar 1 thick-handled barbell 1 set of dumbbells, weight ranging from 20lbs to a whopping 140lbs 1 climbing rope with ceiling attachment 1 foam roller And a medium-sized crate containing, Kaito supposed, various odds and ends used for serious physical training. He had never seen such a complete set of equipment before. "Good thing our basement is actually large enough," he had thought to himself. Come to think of it, that was when Bachiko's eyes had lit up for the first time in his memory - when she had first laid eyes upon the large basement they had, slightly atypical for houses in the area. Maybe she had been looking for just such a place that could satisfy this unusual criterion! In any case, it was summer, so Kaito had been treated to the sight of Bachiko walking around with a sheen of sweat, carrying her equipment with far more ease than the van driver she'd hired. Towards the end, the guy had actually stopped for a break, and had taken a seat beside Kaito, while Bachiko continued with the moving. "I've never met a girl like her before," Kaito had said after a while, unable to think of any other conversation starter. "I know, right?" the man had responded, in a broad Kansai accent. "Sometimes I do jobs for people moving their home gyms, like this. Met a few women who lift weights. Always thought they looked good, me. Usually a bit older, like, not grandmother old, but middle-aged, you know? Like your mom. And I tell you..." he leaned in conspiratorially, "this girl is way stronger than any of them! Hands down! Maybe she does the Olympics! Do Japan proud, ya?" Kaito had wondered at the time why Bachiko seemed to have not only a home gym, but an entire gym, while she moved around the country with no permanent home of her own. Wouldn't it be more practical to just take out a gym membership, he thought. The answer to the question had become clear, though, after the first time he saw her working out. The weights she worked with were simply tremendous! Kaito didn't get to see her use the smaller dumbbells and weight plates - he had been sent down to the basement by his mother to bring Bachiko some cool soy milk, and he had heard the clanging of the weights long before he opened the door. And what a sight had greeted his eyes... Kaito would never forget the way her muscles rippled all over her body. She was broad-shouldered but not thickset, curvy but not voluptuous; ripped and defined with small breasts attached to fleshy pectorals that resembled nothing less than armor plates. She was far more muscular than a member of the Amazonian Praxian race, from Robotech. As Kaito now stood just outside the door to the basement gym, the tray of brown rice cakes and kombu seaweed in his hands, he listened to the grunts of exertion from within the room and thought about Bachiko. It had been a few weeks, and Bachiko had settled in with a minimum of fuss. His mother was practically treating her like a member of the family, and they often took meals together. She seemed to have no job, yet she also seemed to have a substantial source of personal income. She seemed to be fairly intelligent, but she had only finished senior high and did not seem to have any intention to embark on further education. She also wasn't too well-informed about technology or world affairs, but she appeared to have doctoral-level knowledge in the fields of physiology and biochemistry. And most mysteriously of all, there were nights when she would simply... disappear. She'd be completely unreachable by mobile, but on one occasion she came back looking positively bedraggled. Out of respect for her privacy, neither Naoko nor Kaito queried her about where she'd been or what she did on those nights, but Kaito could not help feeling curious about this new girl in his life. So far, he hadn't entertained salacious thoughts about her, but he found her fascinating. Suddenly, he noticed the door was ajar. She had not shut it fully prior to her workout. Slowly, he nudged the door with his foot, making it open wider, and peeped in. What he saw nearly made him drop the tray of snacks in his hands. Clad only in a skin-tight pair of short leotards, and completely topless, Bachiko was performing inclined-bench dumbbell presses with the largest set of dumbbells she possessed - not that Kaito would've known if Bachiko hadn't told him once what the exercise was called, during a casual conversation. The sweat was practically pouring off her, as she slowly pushed the dumbbells straight up above her, and let them come down again with smooth, controlled movements, despite how her arms were shaking. There was no telling how long she'd been at it, but as Kaito watched, she performed rep after rep without stopping, grunting and moaning softly as she did so. It was too much. The sight was too erotic for him to withstand. In that moment, Kaito decided to cast aside his reservations - whether finding it a turn-on meant he was in fact gay became a singularly unimportant question to him. He set down the tray of brown rice cakes on the floor beside him as softly as he could, and leaned against the doorframe, looking in. From where he was standing, he was looking at Bachiko at an angle, but he could see her bare torso. He could see just about everything, really. He darted a quick glance at the stairs to make sure his mother wasn't on her way down for some unpredictable reason, then turned his attention back to the sight of Bachiko. He slipped his hands down the front of his slacks. His rod was already erect, and the pre-cum was already leaking out the tip. Trying to control his breathing, he began stroking himself slowly while Bachiko continued to pump out rep after rep. He counted four more slow, controlled reps with those monstrous 140lb dumbbells that he couldn't even lift with both hands - wasn't that basically what he weighed? No, it was more than what he weighed! And Bachiko was pressing that amount of weight in each hand, to exercise her chest! And she wasn't letting up - how many reps of this had she already done? And how many more did she plan to do? One more rep, and Bachiko's moaning was getting more high-pitched. It sounded almost akin to moans of ecstasy. The shaking in her arms was now more pronounced than before. Yet the dumbbells still came down with the same amount of control, at about the same speed. The trembling had spread to her legs, which were firmly planted on the floor in a wide stance. Two more reps, just as slow, with the form just as proper, and Bachiko was almost sobbing softly. Just how strong was she? Kaito's hand movements slowed, as he contemplated the sheer physical prowess being displayed before his eyes. He didn't know much about working out, but even he could tell this was not something a 19-year-old girl could typically do! One more - but no, the dumbbells were slowing to a stop, halfway up, her arms were flexed to the fullest but she couldn't seem to push them up any further, they were wobbling - and down they went, crashing onto the floor. "Good thing the floorboards are reinforced, from back when Dad used this basement as his gym while he was still around," Kaito thought. His dad had never worked out with weights this crazy, though. He knew Bachiko was fit and athletic, but until now he hadn't actually realized how strong she could be. Bachiko was recovering, her arms hanging as she lay there on the inclined bench. Her bare chest heaved as she took deep breath after deep breath. Her head turned to the side, away from Kaito - and she suddenly seemed to freeze, going very still. After a moment, though, she seemed to relax again. She rose to her feet, picked up her bottle of water and took a few gulps. Then, she ran her fingers through her hair and poured some on her face, looking for all the world like a shower commercial. Kaito gulped. The sight was basically indescribable. The curve of Bachiko's pumped and throbbing chest muscle, joining with the lines of her upper arm muscles... the water trickling down all the crevices on her torso... soaking into her leotard tights... She was walking over to the dumbbell rack. She picked up a pair of dumbbells - 50lbs. She turned to face the doorway. She began doing alternate arm curls, making the dumbbells seem almost light with the ease with which she was raising and lowering them. She made sure to angle her forearms in such a way as to cause the biceps to bulge impressively at the top of the motion. Rep after rep she performed, Kaito was losing count... And suddenly she said, "I do hope you haven't shot yet, Kaito-san." The world around him became a crystal of horror. His blood became ice in his veins. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, as Bachiko put the dumbbells back onto the rack and began walking towards the door. Dimly, he registered what Bachiko had been looking at when she turned her head away - the mirrored wall. The mirrored wall. He couldn't move. He couldn't even take his hand out of his pants. He knew he had to, but he just couldn't do it. And then she was there, grabbing his shirt, pulling him forcefully into the basement, closing the door gently behind him. He stumbled but regained his balance, managing finally to withdraw his errant hand. His slacks were loose and comfortable, though, so his arousal remained on full display. Bachiko came to stand in front of him. She seemed completely nonchalant, her hands on her hips, her head cocked to one side, a slightly quizzical smile on her face. "I... I... I'm so... err... sorry... I've intruded..." he stammered. His mouth was working on autopilot. Her gaze travelled downwards and remained fixed on the tent pole he was now sporting. Cringing with shame, he made as if to cover it with his hands. But she grabbed his wrists, and pulled his hands away to the sides. Effortlessly. "Kaito-san..." she said softly. "I am sorry to ask so directly, but... do you like me?" He gave a nervous bark of laughter. "I... ah... Bachiko-san! Of course! I mean... what a strange question! Bachiko-san is... is a kind person, and... a very welcome guest in... ah..." "I don't mean that, Kaito-san," she chuckled. She released his hands, and raised her arms up, slowly curling them into a double-biceps flex. Kaito's head swam. His mouth went dry. "Do you like this?" she asked. He nodded dumbly. Then she was down on her knees, and his slacks were in a pool at his feet. She grabbed the shaft, her hand closing around his rod, his penis head jutting out from the space made by her thumb and forefinger. "Ba-Bachiko-san! What..." "I like you, Kaito-san," she murmured throatily, her voice much deeper than usual, and gave the tip of his penis head a hard lick. A frisson of pleasure went through his entire body. His legs went weak. His hands shook. She began to pump his shaft lightly and rhythmically. "I hope you see me as a woman, Kaito-san," she said softly, looking up at him, her short practical bob-cut hair framing her pretty face. "I know that I may not be like other women... but I hope that you find my body attractive." His breath was catching in his throat, and he could make no reply, but he managed to nod his head frantically. She beamed, and raised her free arm to flex it. The ball of muscle that popped out was like nothing Kaito had ever seen, on the arm of any man or woman. The lines of striation on her shoulder turned it into a topological wonder. A single drop of pre-cum oozed out of his tip and began dripping downwards. Giggling with girlish delight, Bachiko made to catch it on the tip of her tongue, but failed. It fell onto the floor, in between her knees. "Would you like to touch me, Kaito-san?" she invited. Almost immediately, almost without volition, his hand went to the mound of her biceps. He began pressing it gingerly at first with his fingers, amazed at how hard it was even though her skin felt soft and smooth. Then he could no longer resist, and he grabbed the flesh there, kneading it. His hand made barely any headway against the hardness. Meanwhile, Bachiko leaned forward and pressed her tongue against the bottom of his cock head, and his still-plentiful pre-cum was starting to collect in a little pool on her tongue. She began bobbing her head back and forth with a very small movement, but the friction made him moan out loud. Then he clapped his hand over his mouth in horror. Bachiko leaned back, laughing silently. She stopped flexing to put a finger to her mouth, and gave him a wink. Then, with a focused look coming into her eyes, she bent forward and took in his cock whole. She was like no other girl he had ever met, a small part of Kaito's mind mused. This part of his mind had detached itself, and was now floating in some cloudy, ethereal realm, suffused with a sense of well-being. Some might consider her forward, or un-feminine, he thought. But certainly, the quality of assertiveness in a woman could be very attractive in the right circumstances. Perhaps expectations played a role - people were probably more forgiving of certain "strong" traits possessed by women in some professions. The so-called tsundere trope was certainly prevalent enough in anime in general, though of course anime was hardly reflective of mainstream taste. Still, it did point to some general acceptance of a Type O kind of girl, and he himself could personally see the appeal of someone with Bachiko's personality. It was definitely congruent with her physique, and this congruence produced a sense of quiet satisfaction within him. Or within that small detached part of his mind. Bachiko the Grappler Ch. 01 The rest of his mind was fully occupied with preventing his body from flailing about wildly in an epileptic paroxysm of pleasure. His eyes were rolling upwards. He was vaguely aware that he was making gargling noises. Just as Bachiko began to increase the tempo of her blowjob, he came. The jerking and shuddering seemed to go on for an interminable time. He didn't know how long. He wasn't aware of much, except that he was being given oral sex for the first time in his life by an incredibly muscular and beautiful girl who was astoundingly good at it. Rope after rope of thick cum he shot into her mouth, down her throat, and none of it was spilling out. Finally he was spent. His legs folded, and he collapsed weakly like a slow-motion house of cards. But he felt himself braced by a pair of strong hands, and he opened his eyes to gaze directly into Bachiko's, close up. A droplet of thick, white, viscous liquid was emerging from the corner of her mouth, and her tongue flicked out to collect it and whip it back inside. She grinned. "Thank you for my post-workout protein shake, Kaito-san." Her words penetrated the haze clouding his mind, and he mentally shook himself. "I... I... Bachiko... Bachiko-san, I mean, I... we..." He still basically didn't know up from down. But slowly, a silly grin was plastering itself across his face, though he didn't know it. "I've finished my workout for today, Kaito-san," she said, rising to her feet. "But I'm a little sore. More so today than usual. I don't suppose you can do me a favor? I would not like to impose on you, Kaito-san. Please forgive me for being rude." "I... No, no, not at all! Uh... please... how can I help you?" She had pulled on a sports bra, and was bending over now to strip off her leotard tights. Kaito took one look at what was on display, and gulped. If the manga/anime trope of a man getting a nosebleed when sexually stimulated was true to life in any way, he'd have died of massive blood loss by then, he was sure. "Could you... give me a full body massage? In my room, if you don't mind. After my shower." He could only nod. He walked up the stairs in a daze - the stairs that led down to the basement actually were accessed from a corridor to the side of the house proper, so when he emerged from the stairs he was in a small hallway beside the living room. He crossed said living room still in a daze, heading past the doorway to the kitchen, and went up the flight of steps leading to the bedrooms. He hesitated at Bachiko's door, but as instructed, he opened it and went inside, to wait for her. Bachiko soon followed, crossing the living room as he had done minutes earlier. But as she walked past the kitchen doorway, Naoko poked her head out. "Bachiko-chan!" she sang. "You've finished your workout for the evening?" "Oh! Yes, Ishida-san," Bachiko replied, smiling. "I'm going to take a shower now. I'm so sorry, I'm all sweaty." "Oh, come in first and help me finish these brown rice cakes I made, wouldn't you? I asked that useless boy Kaito to bring them down to you, but he forgot, so here they are. Please, help yourself to them! I hope they are good for you to eat after your exercise. And have a nice big glass of soy milk as well! You work so hard, you must take good care of your body. And please, call me Naoko-san, that will do, I've told you before!" Bachiko followed Naoko into the kitchen and ate the rice cakes, along with the kombu seaweed that Naoko had wrapped the cakes in, while making genial small talk with her hostess. She had her own refreshment drink up in her room, but more post-workout nutrition was always good. And Naoko's rice cakes were simply heavenly. Kaito never learnt of this, nor did he ever discover how it was that the plate of rice cakes he had brought down to the basement had ended up back in the kitchen. He was frantically Googling on his mobile phone for body massage techniques, especially for athletes, while sitting cross-legged beside Bachiko's bedroll. When she finally stepped in, wrapped only in a large body towel, he simply assumed she'd had a somewhat longer shower than usual. "Ba-Bachiko-san," he stammered, rising to his feet. She stood there, smiling at him, but lowering her glance modestly. "You can just call me Bachiko," she said. "I... I see. Alright then! And, and please, just Kaito will do," he said, beaming widely. "Are... are you ready for your massage?" She went slowly over to her bedroll, and with a strangely demure gesture let the towel fall from her body, revealing her body in all its naked glory. Once again, Kaito's breath caught in his throat, as he gazed upon Bachiko's physique. She was like some kind of European marble statue, with her pale complexion and divinely sculpted musculature. There seemed, strangely, to be a soft feminine glow about her, even though her upper arms were thicker and more muscular than his skinny thighs. With feline grace, she stretched herself out prone on her bedroll, and reclined her head on her folded arms. "I'm so sore, Kaito. Please help me out," she murmured, her voice sounding incongruously girlish. It was higher than her natural voice. She was probably doing it on purpose, Kaito thought. It had its appeal, this strong Amazon behaving that way. He knelt down beside her and began to knead her shoulders, marveling at the crests and valleys on her back. This girl, this 19-year-old girl, was more muscular by far than any high school or university athlete Kaito had ever seen, even the men in the weightlifting club or the track athletes. And he had just received a blowjob from her. It had been so much better than any adult video he had ever rented or downloaded. He decided there and then that masturbation no longer held any appeal for him. He had tasted the divine food of the kami - how could the dross of the material plane compare? Did that mean he wasn't a virgin anymore? He supposed that technically he still was, but he certainly felt like a new man. "Mmm... you have strong fingers..." Bachiko sighed softly. "R-really?" She opened an eye. "No, I'm just lying to make you feel good. But don't stop." "O-okay..." he said, and tried to press Bachiko's muscles harder. It was like massaging steel cords. "There's so much tension!" he exclaimed. "Bachiko-san... err I mean, Bachiko... can I ask you some personal questions?" "Sure, Kaito, ask away," she mumbled, in a sleepy voice. "Why... why do you work out so hard? I mean," he tried to backpedal, "I don't mean it's a bad thing, or that I have any right to criticize your lifestyle or interest... but I mean, you seem to push yourself so hard every day. Do you want to take part in some kind of Olympics event? Are you training for that?" She smiled, and seemed unoffended, even though Kaito could only see part of her face. "Not really. The reason I train... is not for any normal sporting event." "Ah, but then it's for something, then?" Kaito said. "Is it your job? Your profession? I've never asked you, what is it that you actually do? I assume your training is related to that?" "Straddle me." "What?" "Straddle me. You can apply more force that way. Your posture is awkward, and you're pressing hard, so I don't want you to twist a muscle by accident." "Oh... right... one moment..." He straddled her and shortly grew hard again. "Mmm... I feel that... you're not tired?" she said, teasingly. "Maybe you're one of the lucky guys? You know... not only once a night..." He blushed. "Um... my question? What are you training for? Is it alright to tell me?" She was silent for some moments, and he began to fear that he had offended her, but then she spoke. "I fight. I'm a fighter. A grappler, you could say." "A... a grappler?" "Yes, a grappler. That's what I do." "Oh... like, wrestling? Olympic wrestling?" But she'd hardly call that fighting, he berated himself. She wouldn't have said she fought if she were a sportswoman, now would she? Stupid nerd, get a clue! She confirmed his hunch that he was wrong. "No. Wrestling... is a part of it, yes. But... the kind I do... it includes everything. All styles, all methods." "Oh, oh I see... so, includes martial arts, like karate, or aikido?" "Includes them, yes. But a lot more than that too. Boxing. Kickboxing. Styles that don't have names. However... that is not why I train." "What do you mean?" She seemed to be speaking not to him, but to herself. "I suppose you couldn't say that the Arena is the reason I train. Of course not. It never was." "I'm sorry?" "Oh... oh sorry, Kaito. I was thinking of something. To answer your question..." She fell silent again. Meanwhile, Kaito had moved down to her trunk, and was pressing on her lower back with his knuckles, and not making much of an impression. Her trunk was as hard as a literal tree trunk. "Use your elbows," she suggested. Obeying, he moved himself further down her body, and plopped his elbows on top of the twin cords of her lower back muscles. She grunted with satisfaction as he gyrated his arms. "Bachiko?" "Hmm? Oh..." After a pause, she said, "I train to become stronger than my mother." This gave Kaito pause. "What?" He had not expected that at all. "Your mother?" When Bachiko made no reply, he felt unsure if he should press the question. He resumed his massage. Then she shifted and said, "Now the front," and she turned herself onto her back, giving him a full frontal view. Her magnificent body, splayed out in front of him. It hit him. He was now straddling a goddess. The goddess who was a tenant at his house. The goddess who had just given him a blowjob after a hard workout which he had been rudely spying on (which probably made him a pervert). "Are you some kind of fox spirit?" The question just tumbled out on its own. She cracked a smile. "I'm here to seduce you. If I'm not careful my nine tails will come out!" "I'm sorry! It's just that... this is... I mean... what you are doing is..." She took his hands and guided them to her upper chest muscles. "You saw me working out these muscles," she said. "They need your touch now. Massage them for me. As deeply as you can. Just press your thumbs down... hard... like that... yes... oh yes, just like that... mmmmm..." "Bachiko," he whispered, as he continued doing something every boy in Japan dreamed of doing (and probably a great number of older men as well, come to that). "Bachiko... why are you letting me do this? You should be angry... I spied on you, I shouldn't have done that, you're our guest... and it's wrong, I wasn't respecting you..." "I like you," she said, simply. And as he shook his head in mute disbelief she chuckled. "What's so strange about that? I just like you. I liked you from the first time we met." "But... but I'm not any kind of athlete!" he protested, even as the heels of his palms brushed against her erect nipples. "And why must you be?" she said, looking genuinely puzzled. "Well, I mean usually... don't athletes... sort of... get together with each other? I mean... you're so strong, and muscular... wouldn't you want a man who was... also the same?" She looked at him steadily, but with a strangely sad smile. "Not necessarily. It may be true for some women, whether or not they are athletes, but it's not true for me. Why can't I have a liking for Type B geeks like you? Smart, kind, creative..." "I'm... I'm actually Type AB," he mumbled, blushing furiously. "I know, I don't fit the type, but I suppose I'm an outlier..." "Oh... well, whatever, I like your type," she declared. "Actually, I just like you. And... I hope you like me too." Mentally, he stepped out of the picture and looked back at it from the outside. She was saying that, with a straight face and a sincere steady gaze, while he straddled her, massaging her impressive chest muscles, her hands practically on her breasts and nipples. Reality really was stranger than fiction, he thought. If the Zentraedi were to launch an invasion of Earth tomorrow and their war machines ravaged Tokyo, it still would not be stranger than what was happening to him right now, what had been happening since earlier. So he smiled, thought, "Fuck it all," and looked straight back at her and said, "I think you're incredibly beautiful, and I like you very much. I want us to get to know each other better. And I hope you feel the same." She smiled broadly then, and her eyes seemed to become a little teary. "I'm glad to hear that. Thank you, Kaito-chan," she whispered. He continued with the massage, moving on to her arms, then her belly, following any instructions she gave. Otherwise, there was a companionable silence. Besides her moans of pleasure, that was to say. And outside the room, a mother smiled to herself and quietly walked away to turn in for the night. The next morning, after Bachiko had returned from her morning run and was finishing up breakfast - she ate large quantities of eggs and tofu every morning, along with boxes of some foreign food called "muesli", which was pricey and hard to obtain, so she actually paid for her own food out of her own pocket - she suddenly said to him, "Kaito, I have something to ask you." "Hmm? Oh, sure, what is it?" His heart jumped at her use of the suffix-less address. "I have... something to do tomorrow night, Friday night. I'm... taking part in a match. You remember... what I do..." "Oh! Oh yes," he said. "Wow... okay! So... you're... you're going to be fighting in a match?" She nodded in affirmation. "It... would mean a lot to me if you were there, watching. Would you... are you keen on... would you like to come?" She was usually so confident and self-assured, that it truly took him aback to see her so uncertain and tentative. He was not quite sure how to react, but part of him rebelled at the sight. It just didn't fit her, the hesitancy, the vulnerability... "Yes, of course I will come!" he said firmly. What did he have to do on Friday night anyway? The gang could do without him for one weekend night, all they ever did anyway was go around the same few places in Shinjuku. He saw them day in day out in any case. He could definitely make time for Bachiko, who was, he supposed, now his girlfriend... His girlfriend! He now had a girlfriend! Him! He, Ishida Kaito, age 21, of the Tokyo University of Technology, Faculty of Computer Science, Department of Advanced Robotics, part-time slacker, full-time geek... had a girlfriend! "I will be there for you, Bachiko!" he shouted. "Your life will be my life as well! Wherever you are, there will I be also! It is my honorable duty as a man to give you moral support for anything you do! I will come and watch your event! Never fear! A real man will not let you down!" "Kaito! What are you shouting about? Aren't you on your way to classes? Make sure to pack your lunch, you hooligan, stop eating McDonald's all the time, it's bad for you! Why can't you have a healthier lifestyle like our Bachiko-chan?" came his mother's voice from the backyard where she was hanging out the laundry to dry. Bachiko stared, and then began to laugh. *** "So, uh... where's this Tachikawa Arena? I've never heard of it before." Kaito and Bachiko had just gotten off the train at the Tachikawa station, and were walking in the direction of Showa Memorial Park. She was carrying a duffel bag and was dressed modestly, in a t-shirt and jeans. All the same, though, her build was distinctive enough that she was drawing stares from passersby. Her biceps and triceps were practically bursting through her shirt sleeves, even though it was a stretchy one. Most of Bachiko's clothes were either loose or stretchy, Kaito had noticed, except the summer clothes that were skimpy enough not to stretch easily, like the spaghetti strap top she had worn while moving in her home gym. Bachiko smiled at him and replied, "Naturally you wouldn't have heard it before, Kaito-san. It's actually a secret location, known only to a few." She was still being formal with him in public, though he fancied that he saw a tenderness in her eyes when she looked at him. With her, though, it could be hard to tell, sometimes. Her face was not easy to read. "A... secret location? Wow... so how do we get to it? Where are we going?" Bachiko gestured up ahead. "Showa Memorial." "In the Park?" He scratched his head. "But I've been to the Park many times... I've never come across anything like the Arena!" "It's not where normal people can see it," she said. They were approaching the east entrance of the Park. "It's underground." Kaito gaped. "How... how big is the Arena?" "Hmm... about... I guess, almost the whole south-eastern bit, you know those paths and grass patches in the middle there?" "That big?! Wait, wait, Bachiko... you mean to say, under the south-eastern portion of the Park, there's this huge Arena? Just how big is it? I mean, in terms of how many people watching? I assume there's an audience, that is!" "Certainly, yes. About... maybe... a thousand? Two thousand? I never counted." Kaito narrowed his eyes. "That's... that's kinda tiny, actually." "Oh, it's an exclusive audience. Some Japanese, some foreign. The spectators are all regulars, and they're all people who can keep a secret." "Well, evidently!" "The actual fighting stage itself isn't big at all. But if you count the medical facilities, the dormitories for the full-time staff, the hotel rooms, the training chambers, the fighters' quarters for some of them who choose to stay there, the kitchens..." Bachiko shrugged. "I don't think about it much." "Who could've built it? Right under the Showa Memorial Park, no less! How does anyone keep a huge underground complex like that a secret? What does the government say about that?" Kaito yelped, not caring that a few passers-by were giving him strange looks. Bachiko seemed unworried about that as well. "Well, it's easy. The current owner of the Arena is Tachibana Fujiko. Her family built it a few generations ago." Kaito stopped short in his tracks. "Of course," he murmured. "Now it all makes sense. Now it all makes sense..." Tachibana Fujiko was the current Chairwoman of the Board for the Omega Zaibatsu. With her clout and resources, of course such a project could be undertaken, and secrecy maintained all the way from the lowest to the highest levels. It was the nigh-omnipotent Omega Zaibatsu, after all. So, that explained why Bachiko would suffer no repercussions for letting him in on the secret. If he were to be indiscreet about it, the consequences... he shuddered at the thought, and pursued that line of thinking no further. "Wait... wait... you know her? You know Tachibana Fujiko??" "Yes. She's... you might say she's a family friend." They approached the main gate, and at this time of night the Park was closed to the general public. A few bored security guards were standing around at the entrance. Without missing a step, Bachiko waved a plain-looking card over the reader above a turnstile, and walked through. "Come in," she said, turning around and scanning it again for Kaito. He followed her in a daze, his mind awhirl. "Just too many surprising things I've just learnt about you in just too short a time," he muttered. "Just... just give me a moment, will you, Bachiko-chan. Sorry." He made his way carefully to one of the stone benches nearby and sat down carefully. His legs felt weak. Bachiko came to sit beside him. "We're okay for time, Kaito, but we need to get going in a while. I don't want to be late." He held his head in his hands. "You might've prepared me for all this! This is... this is just too much... I can hardly believe it!" Bachiko made no reply. "Of course I... I'm not calling you a liar! But... phew... ok... so, you know Tachibana Fujiko-sama? And she's a, I quote, family friend to you?" Bachiko the Grappler Ch. 01 "Yes." "Isn't she... pushing 80 by now, thereabouts?" "78." "How... how do you know her?" Her eyes were staring into the mid-distance. "She's always been kind. She knows my mother." "Your... mother?" "Tachibana-san has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, since I was about... 2 or 3. She was the one who converted the Arena for its current purpose. It used to be a secret training facility for the military, but they sold it to the Omega Zaibatsu. Then I think Tachibana-san found that it was obsolete or something. So, just because she wanted to, she made it into a place where women fighters from all over the world come to see who the Strongest is." Somehow, the way she stressed the word "Strongest" made it apparent that it was some kind of title. "The... Strongest?" Kaito said, dimly aware that he was starting to sound like a slow parrot. She smiled humorlessly. "The champion of the Arena is unofficially the Strongest Woman in the World. The title used to keep on changing hands, up until about 12 years ago. Since then, it's been held by a single woman, the undefeated champion. The rest of the women still duel one another, but every now and then one of them gets brave or reckless enough to challenge the Empress. That's what they call her now. The Empress." "And... they've all failed to dethrone her," Kaito said, his voice hushed. "Of course." Bachiko stood up. "Because I'll be the one to do it. Come on, Kaito. Let's get going." They walked together for some minutes in silence. Then Kaito said, "She's your mother, isn't she? This... this Empress." Some moments passed, and he feared he'd upset his girlfriend. But she answered. "Hanma Yuriko. Formerly known as Yuriko Omega, when she was Tachibana-san's personal champion and special operative. Now, simply known by her name, or by her nickname of Empress, or by her full unofficial title: the Strongest Woman in the World." She smiled that same humorless smile again. "And I have the honor to be her daughter." When Bachiko pressed the hidden panel in a wall that caused a hidden elevator to open up, Kaito found that it didn't surprise him one bit. He did find it fascinating, though. "This is a really sturdy elevator!" he remarked, running a hand over the sleek control panels. "And so smoothly. We must be going really quickly! Where're we headed to first?" "The fighters for each night have rooms backstage where we prepare. You'll accompany me there, and then afterwards I'll get some people to show you to your seat. It's ringside." "You have special privileges, huh?" She smiled, and winked at him. His heart melted to see the cheerful Bachiko show through, if even for a moment. "Mm. Yes." Earlier, he had already asked her about whom she would be fighting that night, and the rules appertaining to the fight. He now mulled it over. Her opponent was a girl called Hanayama Kaori, about the same age (19 going on 20). This young girl had already gained a degree of notoriety in the Japanese underworld. She was quite possibly the youngest girl ever to be a yakuza lieutenant! The story Bachiko had told him was an astonishing one. Kaori was the daughter of a yakuza boss, who was a huge giant of a kingpin. Her father once began striking her mother for disrespect, because the mother had been trying to dissuade him from taking part in a vicious gang war with a daredevil rival group. Kaori, already known for showing astonishing strength for a girl her age, had grabbed hold of her father's forearm with one hand and coldly demanded that he stop hitting her mother. Astounded by the amount of strength he could feel his daughter applying, which was immobilizing his arm, the man had instructed her to squeeze his forearm as hard as she could. She had complied and ended up giving her father a broken forearm. The big mountainous man had been helped away by his men, weeping with the pain but laughing with joy, shouting that the kami had blessed his seed and that he would have a powerful monster, a veritable youkai, for his successor. She had then gone on to become a fearsome lieutenant in her father's private army, capable of choking a man to death with one hand. She reportedly took after her father's large build, but in physical strength she far outstripped him, and from all accounts he could not be prouder. Now, as he contemplated this story, which Bachiko had told him dispassionately, almost as if she had been relating a news story from Facebook, he felt a chill run up his spine. He looked at Bachiko. His girlfriend was going to fight someone like that?! Apparently Bachiko had fought a few girls already, and had handily defeated them all. The fighters got paid just for participating, but the winner of each match got a sizeable amount as a prize. She had told him that this was the first Arena fight she considered a truly serious one. Just what kind of fight was he about to watch? The surreal nature of the situation suddenly hit him hard. This was his girlfriend right here, and she was about to fight someone like Hanayama Kaori... how? The lift doors began to slide open. Bachiko the Grappler Ch. 02 Author's note: This series is my homage to the manga and anime series, "Baki the Grappler". Yes, I know there are about 3 different mangas and, I think, 2 different animes with different titles, but I'll just call the whole thing "Baki the Grappler". So, meet Bachiko. Any resemblance to the original work in terms of characters, plot and theme is entirely intentional. I hope fans of the series will enjoy my homage! IMPORTANT NOTE: The original character Baki is 13 years of age at the beginning of the series. Bachiko is a 21-year-old girl. *** The lift doors opened onto a wide, curving corridor. Kaito followed Bachiko until out of nowhere, a spry old lady in a business suit came around the corner, flanked by two muscly female bodyguards dressed in tank tops and camou pants, and wearing military-style boots. "Bachiko-chaaaaaan!" She came straight for Bachiko, who managed to open her arms in time to receive the embrace from the old lady. Kaito knew that he was now looking at one of the most powerful executives in all of Japan, if not all of the world, fussing and cooing like a kindly grandmother over his girlfriend (2 days and counting). "Finally, you're here!" "Baa-chan, good to see you," Bachiko laughed. "You needn't have troubled yourself, baa-chan. You'll be missed by the others." "Stop it with the 'baaaaa', will you!" Fujiko said, playfully swatting Bachiko's shoulder. "How many times have I told you, just call me your nee-chan!" "That's... that would be too inappropriate, despite your obvious youthfulness," Bachiko said, clearly trying not to laugh. "And who is this rude staring young man, hmm?" Fujiko turned her attention to Kaito, who jumped involuntarily and cringed. "A fan of yours, Bachiko?" "I'm... I'm so sorry! Please ex-excuse me!" he stammered and bowed hastily. "I'm Ishida Kaito. Pleased to meet you, Tachibana-sama!" "Baa-chan, Kaito's my boyfriend," Bachiko said, so off-handedly that Kaito's face went beet-red and he spluttered. "Boyfriend, eh?" The Chairwoman of Omega Zaibatsu gave him a critical once-over, wrinkling her nose. Kaito suddenly found himself wishing that he had decided to hit the gym regularly 5 years ago. He felt scrawny and inadequate, especially with the soldier girls standing there a few feet away. They were ripped and lean. Much less muscular than Bachiko, they still looked deadly and competent. "Well, if you like him, I suppose you can do as you like!" she declared, with a sniff. "He's oya-san's son. He's nice, baa-chan." "I'm sure. Have you had sex yet?" "No, not yet, but I've given him a blowjob, if you want to count that." "Anything special?" "Not really. A bit less than 5 inches. I suppose better than average. But good enough for me. He's pretty thick when erect, though." "Ah yes, that's always very important. You don't know if he's got stamina though, and he doesn't look very fit. You might want to train him up a bit." "Oh don't worry about us, baa-san! We'll be fine. He's really a nice person." "Be sure he appreciates you for who you are. He'll be rooting for you tonight then?" "Yes. I've arranged for him to have a ringside seat." "Too up-close! Let him come join me in my box! Then he wouldn't have to jostle with everyone else, and it's a better vantage point anyway. I could also tell him all he wants to know about the Arena." "Oh, I couldn't trouble you like that, baa-chan..." "Nonsense! If he's the boyfriend of Hanma Bachiko, he's coming up to sit with me during her matches, no two ways about it. Besides, I think I'll like his company myself, while you're down there fighting! Will you let your boyfriend keep me company, Bachiko-chan?" Fujiko fluttered her eyelashes and simpered. "Of course, baa-chan. You can do what you like with him, just don't traumatize him too much because I still want him good for all kinds of things later." "I told you, it's nee-chan! I'm not even 70 yet! Well, just you send him along afterwards. Call Emi and Aki, they'll come pick him up." The two bodyguards snapped to attention and saluted. "Well, I'd best get going, baa-chan. I've to tell them to send my food to my room." They hugged again, and then Tachibana Fujiko and her bodyguards were gone. Bachiko turned to Kaito. "Come on. Let's go to my room." After a few steps, she turned around. "Kaito? Are you alright?" He stood there, rooted to the spot, ashen-faced. Bachiko came back, looking worried. "Are you feeling unwell?" His mouth opened. "Whaaaaaaaaaaa..." Bachiko sighed, took her boyfriend's hand, and led him along to her room. *** She had stripped down to only a black loincloth, a fundoshi. As Kaito watched, mesmerized, she jumped and flipped herself, coming down onto her palms. Holding her body rigidly straight, she began doing hand-stand pushups. Kaito gasped. "That's amazing! Were you a gymnast?" "No," she said, sounding as if she wasn't exerting herself at all. "My training routines involve some gymnastics, though. Gymnasts are very strong." "I'll say! Hey, who's that at the door?" "Get that for me, will you, Kaito? It's my pre-fight food and drink." He opened the door, and a pretty girl in a servitor's costume pushed the tray into the room, bowed, and left without a word. Bachiko was now doing one-handed handstand pushups, doing 5 with each hand before switching. Kaito lifted the covers off the dishes, and stared blankly at what he saw: an extra-large bowl of rice porridge, 3 bananas, and a liter-bottle of soda. The rice porridge had a few pickled plums in it. "Didn't you have dinner before we left the house, Bachiko-chan?" he asked. She had eaten a fairly protein-rich meal, with a slab of chicken and cod fish. She flipped herself upright again and bent herself over backwards in an inverted U. "Yes, but this is what I eat about half an hour before every fight. For energy." "I see..." Her metabolism had to be very high, he reflected. Which, of course, it was bound to be, given the density of her muscle tissue. She continued with her pre-match routine, her body moving with such grace and obvious strength that soon Kaito was sporting a full-on erection in his pants. When she was done, she was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Her muscles glistened as she walked over to him and grabbed his crotch playfully. "Don't let my baa-san do anything to this," she said playfully. "I want it for tonight." "To... tonight? We're going to... to do it... tonight?" "To celebrate my victory. I want my prize, and only you can give it to me, Kaito-chan." He swallowed. "Of... of course! Bachiko... you look amazing. You look like the strongest girl in the world! I can't imagine anyone beating you!" She smiled but said, "I'm not the Strongest yet. That's where I want to get. And from now on... I have your help. Now... will you oil me up while I eat, Kaito?" As she ate while standing, he rubbed the mildly fragrant oil into her muscles, feeling as if he was about to ejaculate into his underwear as he ran his hands over every inch of Bachiko's sleek body. She paused while eating as he massaged her small breasts in circles, and moaned contentedly. "After my match, making love with you will be all the better for the anticipation," she told him. He could only nod, his throat dry again, while he rubbed her buns of steel and ridged abdomen. She finished the rice porridge in short order, and then the bananas. Finally, she picked up the bottle of soda, examined it, and frowned. "They didn't completely... gah. I really should take it up with the servitors," she muttered, and gave the bottle such a vigorous shaking that her arms briefly became a blur. The bottle opened with a "ffffssssssshhhhhhhhh..." "Hear that? Still so much carbon left in it," she grumbled, before gulping down the flat soda. "I suppose they can't shake it as strongly as you can," Kaito commented. "Hey, are you really ok eating and drinking so much before a match? I suppose you'd have to, um, go to the restroom in a bit?" "Not always. But we'll see. Heh," her face brightened, "one time, I actually saw one of the contestants piss herself in the arena. She had been kneed in her crotch, see, and when she was on her knees it all just came running out between her legs, and..." "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, WHOA! STOP! WHOA!" Kaito threw his hands up. "Kuso!" "Well, yes, a little bit, now that you mention it..." "Gah! Stop! Please! Does that kind of stuff happen all the time??" She looked blank. "What, the pissing? Not as a rule, no!" "I meant the kneeing in the... you know! Aren't there rules? That's dirty fighting, isn't it?!" She laughed. "Didn't I tell you before? There are practically no rules, except for one: no weapons. Our bodies are our only weapons. Oh, I suppose the victory conditions are rules: victory is by verbal submission, tapping out, unconsciousness, or being forced off the dais." "Then... then are injuries often... serious?" Kaito whispered, aghast. "Sometimes. It's part of the Arena. All of us know what we're participating in. We all take it as a matter of honor, to determine who the stronger is, in a fight between two women. So it will get intense. But any injured fighters are taken to the medical bay after the matches, and the Yakushi tanks get them back into fighting shape in just a few days, usually." Of course! The Yakushi tanks, patented and manufactured by Kyocera Medical, a fully-owned subsidiary of Omega. Of course this Arena would have them, seeing as it belonged to Tachibana Fujiko. Kaito felt a lot more reassured now that he knew this. But he still could not help asking, "So... what's the most severe injury any fighter's ever sustained in the Arena?" "Well..." Bachiko looked thoughtful. "I suppose that would be the time this woman got her spine broken. She was trading back-breaker slams with her opponent." "Is that more or less exactly what it sounds like?" In response, Bachiko quickly and effortlessly scooped Kaito up in her arms. "Ok, ok! I get the idea! Spine down across thigh, got it!" "Across the knee, in this case," Bachiko said, setting Kaito down. "They both switched to using their knees for maximum force. I remember watching them, slam after slam. I think they traded about 8 or 9 before one of them finally broke the other's spine. And even then, the loser didn't submit until her opponent put her in a camel clutch. Took two full months in the Yakushi tanks after that, before she was back in fighting form. I don't recall who they were, though... the winner was a black, I remember, from America. The loser was Japanese." Kaito was shaking his head. "This is insane. I... I can't believe you're a part of something like this. Or that something like this exists! I... I don't want you getting hurt." Bachiko's eyes were hooded. "This is what I do, Kaito. This is my life. And... because of my feelings for you... if I am fighting and I know you are watching, hoping for me to win, I know I will fight harder. But if you do not wish to be a part of this, then I will not force you. And I cannot blame you. You can leave anytime you wish." She looked away. "Bachiko! No... I didn't mean that! I... of course I'll stay!" he exclaimed, grabbing her hands. She seemed taken aback by his gesture, but also pleased. "I'm... I'm behind you completely! It's only that... when I think of you getting... kneed down there... or having your bones broken or... I just don't want that!" She smiled, and cupped the back of his head. "Relax, Kaito. That kind of thing happens very seldom. Most of us don't really get so violent or gruesome. It is meant to be a test of strength, skill and endurance. What kind of test would it be if we were all gouging eyes and such? You'll see for yourself. And... actually... I hope that when you're watching me... you find it a turn-on." Her lips were very close to his. He was very conscious of how unclothed she was. "Do you think you'd find it sexy, to watch me wrestle... fight... match my strength against another woman?" she breathed. "My muscles straining against hers... me using all my might to prove I am the stronger, better woman... so that at the end of the match, I am the one who stands above her, raising my arms in victory... looking up at you while I flex my muscles... do you think you'd like that?" The mental images she was painting had captured his imagination. He nodded. She smiled, rubbing up against his erection. "Then tonight, you'll be fucking the stronger, better woman." And she pressed her lips hard against his in a fierce kiss. "Now it's time for you to go to Fujiko-san's box. I'll call the escorts." They arrived shortly, and greeted him, inviting him to follow them. "Bachiko!" Kaito stopped outside the door. "Um... good luck," he said lamely, unable to think of anything else. Bachiko smiled and blew him a kiss as the door slid shut. *** "You may address me as oba-san, if you like," Tachibana Fujiko said brusquely. "That's 'oba', not 'obaa', if I hear you say 'obaa' I'll have my bodyguards do things to you that would seriously hinder your relationship with my Bachiko-chan, do you understand?" "Yes, oba-san," Kaito replied with alacrity. "Thank you, oba-san." "Good boy." She was really quite a nice lady; in this day and age, even "dono" might be an appropriate honorific for her, he reflected. He was more than glad to accord this formidable woman her due respect and deference, and pander to her little whims. After all, he had a premium seat at the Arena. He looked around again, taking it all in. The main Arena was like a coliseum. In the middle, there was a raised circular dais, somewhat like a sumo dohyo, similarly constructed from clay. The surface of the dais itself was white, but the floor around it was black - presumably, as Bachiko had told him, if one fighter was forced onto the black, she was the loser. The spectators seated around the ring all seemed to be well-heeled, though most dressed casually. There was a fair number of non-Japanese too - at a quick glance, he could see a smattering of brown skin, a few prominent instances of very dark African complexion, and some white Westerners scattered all around, usually with Japanese companions. There were also a few Asian but non-Japanese faces he could discern. The Arena truly had an international character to it. "The fighters come from all over the world, too," Fujiko said, when he voiced some of his observations aloud. "Most are from Japan, though. That's just because I happen to do most of my scouting in Japan. I'm starting to travel a bit more, so we ought to see more foreign competitors this year forth." "You scout?" "Yes. I handpick the fighters myself! Women with strength, spirit... I offer them something they cannot resist." She grinned. "A chance to see just where they stand with other like-minded women, in physical contest... A chance to indulge in our primal need to compete and prove ourselves superior to our rivals... and get paid for it, and other fringe perks too. Like our Yakushi tanks, they get the benefit of that. We're not inhumane." She sipped her cup of green tea, brewed for them by an attentive young servitor. "Have some tea, young man." Kaito sipped his tea. Never before had he heard women described as having such urges. His own mother, like so many other women he knew, was practically a yamato nadeshiko. This was an alien world to him, a world in which women were described as having some kind of primal need to fight one another and engage in contests of strength and will. He could not imagine such a world, peopled with Bachikos and Kaoris. Before meeting Bachiko, he would not have been able to imagine a Bachiko. He could not even imagine Kaori, now. Well, he thought, that was about to become a moot point. He was about to see Hanayama Kaori with his own eyes. And after that... he'd get to see just how this crazy world worked. A gong sounded. The announcer, a woman in her thirties dressed in a formal single-shoulder black gown, spoke into her microphone from her desk across the arena from Fujiko's special VIP box. "Ladies and gentlemen, the next bout is about to start! This is the final event for the night, the battle you have all been waiting for!" The lights dimmed, except for two spotlights, one above each entrance, to the east and the west of the arena. Kaito noticed those entranceways for the first time. They had signs above them, in kanji; the east one was labelled "Azure Dragon", and the west one, "White Tiger". His heart began racing. Soon, Bachiko would emerge from one of them. "Approaching the stage, from the Azure Dragon - age 19, standing at 5'7, weighing in at 204lbs... she is the Yakuza Princess of Tokyo... the Girl with the Iron Grip... Hanayama... KAORI!" She strode in, an ornate robe draped around her bulky frame, and the spotlight followed her. She had the build of a sumo wrestler, but moved with a certain athletic grace, not in the least bit clumsy or ungainly. Her hair was done up in a traditional bun, and her sharp features were set in a grim mask of resolve. The scar running across her right eye and down her cheek was very distinctive indeed. She raised a fist to acknowledge the wild cheering that accompanied her entrance, but otherwise made no grand gestures to showboat. Instead, she stood impassively, her eyes fixed upon the opposite entrance. "And her opponent, coming in from the White Tiger - age 19, standing at 5'6, weighing in at 165lbs... you all know who she is... Hanma... BACHIKO!" If the cheering for Hanayama Kaori had been loud, it was now raucous. Bachiko strode out in her near-nude state of dress (or un-dress), just as Kaito had left her. Without acknowledging the audience, she marched straight to the marked spot in the ring and stood there, arms hanging loosely by her sides, feet shoulder-width apart, in a relaxed neutral stance. "She's got almost 40lbs on Bachiko!" Kaito gasped aloud as the thought struck him. He was a bit surprised that Bachiko weighed so much herself, but then again she was almost all compact muscle. "That worries you, boy?" Fujiko chuckled. "Well, I... I don't know much about fighting, but I know weight is important!" Kaori stepped forward, and with a single roll of her shoulders let the robe fall from her body. It was quickly retrieved by servitors behind her, but all other eyes were on Kaori's topless body. Audible gasps were heard all throughout the crowd. Both her arms were covered in beautifully inked tattoos, and her shoulders as well. Her back was bare, but the tattoos covered the outer halves of her sizeable breasts. They were floral designs, but intertwined with the flowers were swirling dragons. In fact, they had been inked such that a pair of dragon claws seemed to hold each of her nipples. "She's declared before that on the day she defeats Bachiko's mother, she will ink a youkai's face on her back," Fujiko helpfully supplied. Kaori was stocky, and there was a layer of fat all over her, but apart from her breasts, barely of it jiggled when she moved. In fact, the curves of muscle were clearly visible on her limbs. Even her thick belly seemed to have a faint line down the middle. Her thighs and calves were even thicker and larger than Bachiko's own, and Bachiko had wheels to put male weightlifters to shame. Looking from one to the other, Kaito could not decide who the victor was likely to be. Bachiko looked more muscular overall, but with Kaori's weight advantage and the stories told of her grip strength, he supposed Bachiko would have to resort to quickness and skill to win. Then a quartet of servitors brought up a reinforced steel table, struggling slightly with the weight, and Kaito did a double-take. "What's that for, ba-san?" "It's customary for the women to have a bout of arm wrestling before the match proper," Fujiko explained, cackling and leaning forward with eager anticipation. "This is just a preliminary gesture. They want to try and assert dominance, see, with a show of strength. Sometimes the outcome can have quite the effect on a fighter's morale." Bachiko the Grappler Ch. 02 Kaito gulped. He recalled Kaori's grip strength. Would Bachiko's hand be injured? The square table was slightly more than waist high, and not that large. The contestants could bend over it, lock arms, and touch foreheads if they leaned forward enough. Kaori suddenly pressed her palms together and held them just under her breasts. She took a breath, appearing to concentrate. Then she lowered herself into a squat, with perfect form. "What's she doing?" Kaito wondered. "Watch." Kaori straightened up - and the difference was perceptible! Her muscles seemed more prominent than before, all over her body! "Unbelievable! Is that even possible?" Kaito yelped. Privately he thought, if this was all he had to do to enlarge his muscles, then it'd be easier than he thought it would be! Kaori did it twice more, and each time her iron thews, her steel sinews, seemed to get larger and more defined. She now looked an even more intimidating opponent than before, for her smaller opponent. "For normal people, this extent of muscle pumping only happens after quite some time into a workout," Fujiko observed. "But Kaori's cardiovascular system is so enhanced that she can achieve this much 'pump' effect just from doing three simple warmup squats! This is truly Bachiko's baptism of fire. She'll have her hands full with this fight!" Bachiko already looked pumped from her pre-match routine earlier. She cocked her head, looking at Kaori up and down from across the table. She then cracked a small smile. "Not bad." Then she flexed her right arm, making the muscles pop. "But still not good enough to match me." Kaori stared at her opponent's sculpted arm, and slowly smiled as well. "Truly an arm worthy of the Empress's daughter," she said. "It would be an honor to break it... and really a pity to see your tears of pain as I mash your hand into pulp." "Every bone in your fingers will be broken before that happens," Bachiko replied, still with that small smile on her face. Kaito was shaking and sweating all over. "This... this is crazy..." he mumbled. "They... can't be serious..." Fujiko swatted his shoulder. "Don't be squeamish. Nothing's even happened yet. They're just talking." Under her breath she muttered, "Wimp. I wonder what Bachiko-chan sees in you. I liked the last one better." Kaito didn't hear that sotto voce bit - he was looking on raptly as the two girls stood up against the table and leaned over, bracing their feet. Bachiko put both hands on the table and adopted a waiting posture, instead of putting her arm up straightaway. "I'll let you decide how you want to compete," she told Kaori. Kaori thought for a while, then nodded. She angled her body to the side, put her left hand on her hip, and held her right arm forward, palm open in mute invitation. "Arms first, then. Plenty of time to overpower the rest of your body later." Bachiko mirrored the pose, and moved her elbow close to Kaori's. Their hands hovered close together, not yet locked. "Ba-san, how are we hearing them so clearly?" "Hidden microphones all around. Shut up." A few more moments passed. Their eyes locked. Then their thumbs hooked, and suddenly Kaori's fingers snapped around Bachiko's hand like a bear-trap. Kaito imagined he could hear the metal clanging, the movement was that rapid. Bachiko threw her head back and uttered a choked scream. Kaori was not levering her arm down - their arms stayed in the neutral position, dead center. But her massive arm muscles were fully flexed as she applied her crushing grip strength to Bachiko's hand. And for Bachiko to lose composure instantly, like that... the power Kaori was putting forth...! "How do you like that, Hanma Bachiko?" Kaori said, smiling with gritted teeth as Bachiko's posture sagged slightly, her right arm shaking. "I can leave indents in steel rods. I can crack rocks. Can you feel me grinding your bones... Hanma Bachiko?" Bachiko's back was to Kaito, so he couldn't see her face very clearly, but her agony was obvious. Her muscles, as magnificently as they were, were no use to her - fingers had tendons, not muscles. Hanayama Kaori was using all the strength in her bulging forearm and her upper arm as well, and pouring it into the vise her own fingers had made around Bachiko's. There was nothing Bachiko could do about it. "Submit, Hanma Bachiko!" Kaori demanded. "I won't move your hand down. Our arms will stay up like this. I want to hear you say that you submit to my superior arm strength first. Will you submit, before I grind your fingers to powder?" Bachiko was starting to slump. The shaking was spreading to her whole body. "She can't do this!" Kaito was beside himself. Fujiko looked grim. "You're wrong there. We'll have to see if Bachiko is up to the challenge." She sighed. "Someone else is watching... someone extremely hard to impress." Kaito's hands gripped the balcony tightly. "You mean her mother." "Yes. Hanma Yuriko is backstage, watching." Something was happening. Slowly, Bachiko regained her posture. Sweat beaded her entire body, but slowly she stopped slumping, and her back began to regain its arch. She raised her head. She had a strange fixed smile on her face, with her teeth bared. "Submit? You're really starting to annoy me," she chuckled, a little breathlessly. "Your grip may be good enough for a handjob, but not much else. And as for keeping our arms up like this... let me show you the point of an arm wrestling match." Veins began to pop out on her baseball-sized biceps. Kaori looked shocked, then grimaced as her arm began to tremble. The veins on her forearm began to stand out as well. Both girls began to groan with effort. Bachiko was fighting through the pain of Kaori's grip to channel her arm strength and take down Kaori's arm. She began to gain a slight advantage. "Go Bachiko!" Kaito yelled, but his voice was lost in the general hubbub. The ones seated right at ringside were pounding their fists on the arena partitions. "Some of the patrons have side bets on the outcomes of the arm wrestling matches, sometimes. It's among themselves. We don't regulate," Fujiko remarked absently. "I wonder what the odds are for this one." Kaori was visibly straining now. The huge smooth mound of her biceps stood out like a huge lump of dough. She managed to slow Bachiko's progress down, then began to reverse it. "No!" Kaito shouted. But Bachiko was on top of it. Kaori didn't make it up to the neutral position - Bachiko forced her arm down again, but with excruciating slowness. Several minutes passed. Bachiko's progress was steady, but she had to fight for every inch. And the agony was real, despite her trash talk - tears of pain were flowing freely down her face, mixing in with the sweat. It still looked as if her strength might fail any moment and Kaori would slam her arm down all the way to the other side. But today, her strength and will prevailed. Kaori held out as long as she could, but finally Bachiko pressed her hand down onto the table with a loud scream of mingled triumph and pain. Kaori let out a yell of unbridled frustration and yanked her hand away, clutching at her upper arms. Bachiko did the same, with a feral grin on her face. She looked positively monstrous, with her face a mess of sweat and tears, and the protuberant veins on her arm. Her hand looked limped but intact, but it was clear she was having trouble flexing her fingers. Looking at the victorious Bachiko slowly raising her right arm and clenching her fist with some difficulty, Kaito found that his erection was throbbing harder than it had ever had in his life. Bachiko had triumphed in an intense physical contest - her dominance was on full display. The servitors from before rushed onto the stage again and carried the table away. Bachiko lowered her arm, still moving her fingers gingerly. She dropped into a battle-ready crouch. Across from her, Kaori adopted the squatting pose of a sumo wrestler about to do the shiko, placing her hands on her knees. She began to raise her right leg in the air. It looked like a relatively unprepossessing movement, because one expected it of a sumo wrestler - until one realized that she was doing it so slowly that she was in fact demonstrating supreme muscular control over her whole body. Her leg went up, up, up... until it was straight up in the air. Her pelvic flexibility was on full display - the left leg was still bent, and supporting her body, but the right leg was fully upright. Then her foot came crashing down, and Kaito could barely believe his eyes - cracks radiated from the point of impact! Bachiko's calm expression did not crack, but her eyes narrowed. The audience was simply agog, however, at the display of sheer lower body power. Kaori began stepping forward, maintaining a stable crouching posture, her arms held close to her body in readiness. Bachiko began moving in more closely as well, guardedly. The distance closed - and then Kaori's palm flashed out, nearly taking Bachiko straight in the face, except that Bachiko's upper torso had swayed back almost by reflex. She tried to grab the arm, but Kaori had retracted it. A few more palm strikes followed, from both arms, but all missed. Bachiko backed up a few steps, looking wary. "Her harite is quite something, isn't it! As fast as a light jab in boxing, but with much more power!" Fujiko exclaimed, clapping her hands with delight. "Bachiko is canny enough to avoid that, even though she's never faced off against it before!" There was definitely a lot of strong muscle underneath the fat; that much was obvious by now. Kaito bit his lip. Speed wouldn't necessarily be Bachiko's advantage over Kaori! Suddenly, Kaori lunged forward. Bachiko took the impact of Kaori's shoulder on her ripped abdominal muscles, and immediately tried to work Kaori into some kind of hold. But Kaori was trying to wrap her massive arms around Bachiko's waist. They grappled and tussled, stumbling around the ring. "If she can get Kaori down on the ground somehow... isolate a limb..." Kaito would be the first to think he didn't know nuts about fighting, but he racked his brain to try and recall what he'd seen of stuff like boxing, or MMA, or even puroresu (prowrestling). Whatever the case, he felt sure Bachiko had to nullify her weight disadvantage somehow. Fujiko was shaking her head, though. "Naïve! That wouldn't work at all! You think Kaori is some clumsy ox, do you? Or some rookie?" They were still a tangle of limbs, but Kaori had managed to get her arms on the outside. And suddenly Bachiko seemed to be frantically struggling. Her face showed her growing agitation, while Kaori was starting to look gleeful. "What's going on? What's happening? Why's Bachiko panicking? It looks like..." Kaito tried to get a better look. Fujiko was on her feet. "Bachiko can sense her danger! Kaori is about to lock in a full frontal bearhug!" "She'll squeeze the breath out of Bachiko!" Kaito gasped in dismay. But Fujiko was shaking her head rapidly. "That's not the danger! Look carefully! If she wanted to do a normal bearhug, she would want her arms on the inside, not the outside. But now she needs to trap Bachiko's arms for what she wants to do next!" Kaito did not need to ask what that is, for Kaori had won the tussle with the arms, and had pinned Bachiko's arms firmly to her sides. Looking at the arms and shoulders straining against each other, Kaito could only imagine the amount of strength Kaori was exerting to keep those arms subdued. "Surely she can't hold Bachiko for long like this!" "She doesn't need to," came the grim reply. And as Kaito watched, Kaori's legs tensed, bent slightly - and launched the both of them up into the air! Then, Kaori performed a mid-air backflip... and came down right on top of Bachiko! Just before slamming down into the floor, Kaori released her arms and spread them wide open. Bachiko's entire body was sandwiched with force between the hard, unyielding clay floor and Kaori's even harder muscles. All 204lbs of Kaori... accelerated by the amazing height Kaori had jumped with both of them. The vertical distance had been approximately one and a half times their height, for anyone eyeballing it. The crowd was roaring with approval, and some of them were clearly yelling, "Tsunami Crush! Tsunami Cruuuussshhh!" "They've seen this before," Fujiko said. "Kaori's signature move. The Tsunami Crush! This is the first time as far as I know that Bachiko's ever taken a move like that. I hope the dear girl is still conscious." Bachiko stirred slightly. Her eyes were open, but from this distance Kaito could tell they were glassy and unfocused. Kaori rose languidly to her feet, breathing deeply and slowly. She looked straight up at the VIP box, and seemed slightly surprised to see Kaito hovering at the edge, looking distraught. Then she smirked, and blew a kiss at Kaito. She then planted a foot on Bachiko's stomach, and slowly raised her arms into a flex, all the while looking Kaito in the eyes and cocking her wide hips suggestively. "I think she's realized you're related to Bachiko in some way, and she's coming on to you, Kaito-kun," Fujiko remarked unnecessarily. The expression on Kaori's face suddenly changed. Bachiko's left hand was gripping her calf and shin tightly. With a single forceful motion, Bachiko flung Kaori off her. It was like the toppling of a tree - for a split second Kaori looked ungainly for the first time in the match, as she flew through the air and landed on her side. Without any leverage whatsoever, with only whatever strength she could muster in her arm from her position, Bachiko had thrown the 204lb girl off her as easily as she shrugged off a blanket! "Yes! Amazing! Bachiko-chan, you're the best!" Kaito went nuts. "Kaori was caught completely off-balance!" Fujiko noted. "Bachiko still showed her incredible arm strength, but that could not have happened if Kaori hadn't been showboating at you!" Kaori had recovered, and was once again in her crouch, her face red with embarrassment and fury. The scar on the right side of her face was livid. Bachiko meanwhile had clambered to her feet. She was panting and still seemed slightly dazed, but that feral grin was back on her face. This was a side of her Kaito had never seen before - she was positively wolfish when she looked like that. He was far more accustomed to her small smile, sometimes a little wry, but usually giving away very little of her feelings or disposition. Bachiko pointed a finger at Kaori, then started shaking that finger admonishingly at her. "That... is my boyfriend up there. Don't... EVER... flirt with him again." "Maybe I'll take him off your hands after crushing you," Kaori said, and before she was done speaking she was already charging straight at Bachiko. But Bachiko rolled out of the way at the last second, and before Kaori could turn around she was behind the larger girl, slipping her arms into a full nelson position. Kaori roared and grabbed hold of Bachiko's wrists, trying to break free of the attempted hold by brute force. Bachiko looked as if she was trying to wrangle a wild animal. "Bachiko's trying to get her down," Fujiko realized. "As long as she can stay behind Kaori, she can lock in a submission move - a rear naked choke, or even that full nelson she's looking for." She shook her head. "Her inexperience is telling." They collapsed to the floor, and with an adroit twist of her body Kaori had slipped out of Bachiko's grasp, turning around to face her. They tussled wildly again, but Kaori managed to secure Bachiko's wrists. She began to squeeze. Bachiko gritted her teeth, her face beginning to scrunch up in pain. The veins began to pop out all along her arms again, as they were doing for Kaori's forearms. "Kaori's trying to break her wrists!" Kaito exclaimed. "She can try, but Bachiko's muscles can resist it a lot better than Boss Hanayama could, I think," Fujiko chortled. "Still... this doesn't look good." Almost a minute passed, with Kaori not quite pinning Bachiko's arms down, squeezing with all her considerable might, attempting to pulverize Bachiko's forearm muscles and break the bones beneath. Bachiko was resisting with every ounce of her arm strength. She was succeeding, but she was clearly on the defensive. There didn't seem to be anything she could do to reverse the situation. "You... are very... strong," Kaori suddenly grunted. Her sweat drops were falling onto Bachiko's face. Bachiko's face was red with exertion, but she replied. "So are... you..." "You are still... not strong enough... to beat me!" And with that, Kaori suddenly elevated her body, using her limbs for support, creating some space between her and Bachiko. Then in an instant she closed that space, slamming her large body into Bachiko's at close range. The breath was expelled from Bachiko's mouth in a whoosh. Once more Kaori began the maneuver, and this time Bachiko visibly tensed her torso in preparation, but the impact again seemed to do significant damage. Kaori was using her entire body to pummel Bachiko into submission. A third time she slammed herself down onto Bachiko. Then she rose to her feet, staggering slightly, and pulled Bachiko up by the hair. Bachiko seemed barely capable of standing, and was swaying back and forth. With alacrity, Kaori once more wrapped her arms around Bachiko's. And again, her powerful thighs launched them both straight up in the air! But then there was a small blur of movement - and when they came down it was Bachiko on top, coming down with a big splash on Kaori! Somehow, she had reversed the move! "How did she do that?!" Kaito yelled, exhilarated. "Are your eyes worse than mine, boy?" Fujiko shouted back. "She headbutted Kaori in the face on the way up, stunning her just enough to free her arms, and that gave her enough control to twist their bodies around and reverse the move!" Indeed, there was blood coming out of Kaori's nose now. Bachiko made as if to secure Kaori in a pin, but with street fighting instincts Kaori slammed her own head upwards into Bachiko, who staggered back and off Kaori. They both regained their balance, both of them now sporting nosebleeds. "This is bad... she's bleeding so badly!" Kaito shook his head, beside himself with anxiety. "It's only nosebleeds," Fujiko said, sniffing dismissively. "A few minutes in a Yakushi tank to put it right, if that's even needed. Nosebleeds always look far worse than they actually are." They had begun circling each other again. Some of the audience members were clearly going wild at the sight of the fresh crimson blood on the pale skin of the fighters. "Get a load of that!" and "Blood... BLOOD!" were some of the things Kaito could hear. "Sick freaks," he muttered. Then Bachiko did something unexpected. She dropped into a wide squatting position as well - then, she raised her arms and held them straight upwards, in a V, with her palms facing Kaori! She was wide open! "What is she doing?!" Kaito yelled. "It looks like... she's challenging Kaori to a straight strength match!" Fujiko was practically jumping up and down in her seat. "She's foolish! Crazy! I adore her!" Bachiko's right hand was still probably hurting; Kaori had the height and weight advantage; and still Bachiko was challenging her in this way! There was only one way Kaori could respond. The yakuza were known for their code of honor - there was no way Kaori would take advantage of Bachiko's defenseless stance to land some kind of cheap shot. Kaori reached out, and laced fingers with Bachiko, who smiled grimly in satisfaction. Then at the same time, both girls launched themselves forward from their haunches, so hard that their upper torsos collided with a meaty smack. Amazingly, Bachiko was not sent flying back! Both girls did audibly lose their breath with a combined "ooof", however, and took a moment to recover, before their arms flexed fully again and they struggled in their test of strength. Bachiko the Grappler Ch. 02 They grunted and groaned as they pushed. Soon, Bachiko's right arm began weakening visibly - her hand was clearly not in good shape. Mercilessly, Kaori poured on the power with her left arm, and forced Bachiko's right arm back at an awkward angle. "That's unfair!" Kaito bit his lip. "Come on, Bachiko... come on..." Fujiko observed his distress quietly, with a strange look in her eyes. Bachiko's arm was trembling, but she was holding up. Then Kaori suddenly moved backwards, and her thighs pumped her forward again, giving Bachiko another full frontal smash. This time Bachiko was forced back a full step before she managed to dig her feet in. She lost more ground in the test of arm strength, and now she was bent backwards slightly and to the side, since her right arm was being forced back further than her left. They now looked like magnificently posed statues, except for the sweat flowing down both their bodies in rivulets, and the trembling and shaking. The blood running down the lower halves of their faces rendered this a truly gruesome picture, more so because it was now also running down the front of their torsos. They were perforce breathing through their mouths, which meant that their bared teeth were now stained with blood as well. Long moments passed. Then, slowly, Bachiko's right arm pushed up again. Her left followed soon after. Then her back started to straighten. A wide-eyed Kaori could not seem to stop any of this, try as she might. "She's... she's doing it..." Kaito breathed. "She's overpowering Kaori!" "Indeed she is," Fujiko said in hushed tones as well. "This is what Bachiko-chan is known for. Her indomitable will, lending her great powers of strength and endurance, sometimes letting her push well past her limits, forging new ones. If only it didn't come from so dark a place..." Kaito found that slightly puzzling, but he put the thought aside. He was too engrossed in watching the sight before him. He had never thought there would be such a thrill in watching Bachiko - watching someone he could call his girlfriend - in such a primal struggle for supremacy over another physically powerful girl. Both of them giving their all, and Bachiko being tested to her limit, but still overcoming her opponent with her strength. Step by step, it began to happen. It was like sumo, except that they had their hands clasped together, and there was no stumbling around in circles. Neither was there any expert move. It was just sheer brute strength, muscle pitted against muscle, will against will. Bachiko had suffered more damage so far, and yet, step by step, she was pushing the larger Kaori back, every step bringing Kaori's feet closer to the ring boundaries. A trail of blood and sweat began to form, marking the passage of the two girls. The sweat didn't fall on where their feet trod, thankfully, so neither was in danger of slipping, but still, it was surreal and unsettling to see the fluids on the floor like that. Finally, as Kaori's dug in feet were pushed right to the edge, Bachiko paused for a brief respite. Kaori looked up - she had had her head bowed for the last few minutes of the pushing match, and now as she turned her face towards her opponent, you could somehow see the defeat in her eyes. She had no more left to give. The question was, did Bachiko have anything left in her tank, Kaito wondered. She looked just as spent. The two girls shared a long look, and then Kaori shut her eyes and nodded wearily. Shakily, Bachiko leaned in... And the two shared a deep, passionate, bloody kiss. Then with a roar, Bachiko seemed to flex all her gleaming muscles at once - and Kaori went tumbling off the dais, onto the black. A moment of silence ensued, as everyone took in the fact that now, there was only one girl left standing in the ring (and as Kaito reeled with the shock of seeing the kiss). Then the cheers erupted, as Bachiko staggered back from the edge of the ring and raised her arms in victory. She did not have to flex - every muscle in her body was already tensed and pumped. The sweat, the blood... they were practically icing on her very beefy cake. The match hadn't been particularly violent, and it hadn't been a technical masterpiece, but that was of little import. As Hanayama Kaori clambered back into the ring and collapsed onto all fours, the tableau was what everyone in the arena had come to see: the thrill of victory, and the agony of defeat. Bachiko went over to offer Kaori her hand, and helped her rival to her feet. As they stood facing each other, they each began to smile, whispering something inaudible to each other. Then they enfolded each other in an affectionate, comradely embrace. Kaito sat back in his chair. "What a match," he mumbled semi-coherently. "What a world. What a girl." "So, Kaito-kun, how do you find your introduction to this world?" Fujiko inquired slyly. "Your girlfriend Bachiko's world. The world of Tachikawa Underground Arena. Does it get your blood up?" Kaito weakly nodded. "And so...?" Kaito looked up at her, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Slowly, he began to grin. "I think I could get used to this." "Well, stand up and look down, she's looking for you." In an instant, Kaito was on his feet, and Bachiko catching sight of him began to beam. But suddenly she whipped her head around to face the Azure Dragon entrance. Her entire posture changed in an instant - she now seemed like a trapped animal. Beside her, Kaori actually backed away a few steps. Someone was approaching. The spotlight swung over to the Azure Dragon entrance - and alighted upon a goddess. Afterwards, Kaito would reflect that the word had simply come into his mind unbidden, when he had first laid eyes upon Bachiko's mother, Hanma Yuriko. She was dressed only in a casual training singlet and a loose comfortable pair of running shorts, but she was barefoot. The facial resemblance was immediately obvious. Yuriko looked, to put it simply, like a taller, older and even more muscular version of Bachiko. And the muscles...! They gave her such incredibly luscious curves that Kaito could hardly believe she was a real woman. She looked more like some idealized portrayal of one, with her divine proportions. The way she walked, her facial and bone structure, and her long lustrous hair all combined to give her a very feminine mien, but at first sight a person could be forgiven for mistaking her gender. Her chest, in particular, was much like Bachiko's, except that the small breasts jutted out a little more prominently - she had been a mother, after all. "She's come out," Fujiko said quietly, beside him. "I suppose she couldn't resist dealing out another dose of tough love." Bachiko's posture was almost akin to that of a cornered wild beast. Her fists were clenched, and she was visibly trembling all over. Kaori had settled into a wary crouch, her gaze fixed upon the Empress of the Arena. Slowly, Hanma Yuriko began to shake her head, practically oozing contempt from every pore. "Both of you little girls... are a disgrace to this arena." "What are you talking about!" Bachiko screamed, to everyone's shock. "Coming in here like this, with your bullshit! What do you want?" Kaito had never seen this side of Bachiko before, albeit in the short time he had known her. She was a completely different Bachiko from the one he had known (and lay together with). She was radiating fury as she pointed shakily at her mother. "There is nothing you can say to criticize our match! We faced each other as warriors!" "Then why... is she... still... STANDING?!" The last word washed over the two girls, and reverberated all through the arena, which had fallen deathly silent. Kaito felt the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up. Was this... some sort of ki? Did Bachiko's mother possess some kind of mystical power usually only found in folktales, or anime? He dimly recalled reading about some ancient Chinese skill known as the "Lion's Roar", mentioned in some wuxia novels, which allowed the practitioner to shout messages so as to be heard miles away. He suspected that he had just heard the closest real-world equivalent possible. Bachiko recoiled, and when she replied, she sounded almost plaintive. "But... we gave all we had to give! I don't have to knock her out. A ring-out is enough! She fought with all she had, and so did I! We're both exhausted!" But Kaori walked past her, each step slow and deliberate. She was still breathing hard, but evidently her natural athleticism allowed her to recover quickly. She wiped the blood away from her face, and smiled. "Your mother's right, Bachiko-san," she said, without looking back. "Our rematch will have to be more intense than this. For now, though... it is an honor, to come face to face with the Empress." Yuriko sneered. Then she said, "You barely deserve this honor, gangster girl. You've barely made your mark in the world, and already I hear about you wanting to tattoo your back with a demon face after beating me. The laughable fantasies of a child! You couldn't defeat me even in a hundred years!" No lesser mortal could've said such words to Hanayama Kaori and lived to tell the tale. Clearly, however, the prospect of yakuza reprisal frightened Hanma Yuriko not one bit. And clearly, neither did the much more immediate prospect of Kaori's personal reprisal. Kaori clenched her fists. The flowers and dragons on her arms writhed as her muscles rippled. "Well?" Yuriko suddenly barked. "What're you waiting for? If you're done making out with my daughter, come and fight! I'll grant you the honor of an attack!" "The audience is getting real bang for buck tonight," Fujiko remarked, "but Hanayama is in for it now! I'll need to get the servitors ready to bring her to the medical bay right away." She whipped out a mobile device - not a cellphone, those didn't work in the Arena - and began pushing at the touchscreen. The floral mountain that was Kaori dropped into a crouch, and then quick as a flash she hopped forward, and the harite palm attack flashed out, straight at Yuriko's solar plexus. The heel of Kaori's palm thudded audibly against Yuriko's chest. Moments passed. The disdainful smile on Yuriko's face didn't change. Slowly, she raised her hand, making as if to take hold of Kaori's wrist. Kaori swiftly retracted her arm - but failed to do so! The movement was too fast for Kaito's naked eye to follow, but Yuriko had snapped her arm out and intercepted Kaori's movement, and was now gripping Kaori's forearm in a death grip. Hesitating only a moment, Kaori returned the favor and took firm hold of Yuriko's forearm with the same hand. Her arm began bulging with effort as she squeezed with all her remaining strength. Her fingers made no impression, however, on the corded muscles of Yuriko's forearm. In contrast, Yuriko's fingers were clearly digging easily into Kaori's flesh, and she was kneading Kaori's muscles like dough. To her great credit, Kaori gave no voice to her agony, and showed no sign of giving up on this unequal contest, even though she began shaking like a leaf all over. "Hanayama-san!" Bachiko cried out. "Mother... Mother, stop! She's not at full strength, I've just defeated her! You prove nothing with this!" "My daughter's offering excuses on your behalf, Hanayama," Yuriko drawled sarcastically. The test of grip strength seemed to be exerting no toll on her energy at all. "No excuses," Kaori grunted in reply. The sweat was pouring from her skin again, and her veins were standing out like fancy drinking straws. Surely she could not last much longer. "I've heard all about how strong your grip is. Tsk, tsk. This is... disappointing. Is this the best you can muster, Hanayama Kaori?" There was a sickening crack - and Hanayama Kaori sunk to her knees, cradling her snapped forearm, tears flowing down her cheeks. "Mother! Stop!" "How cute, a girl like you wanting to challenge me," Yuriko sneered, taking hold of Kaori's skull with her right hand and pulling Kaori up to her feet by main force. Kaori was sucking in her breath through her teeth, but was otherwise making no other noise. Her legs were almost buckling under her as Yuriko held her up. "You weren't even strong enough to defeat my pathetic daughter. You can forget about challenging me. Do you understand? Because, even as pathetic as she is... she's still my daughter!" With that last pronouncement, Yuriko flung all 204lbs of Hanayama Kaori across the arena, with one hand. Kaori smashed against the partition, crumpled onto the floor, and lay there motionless. Immediately, a group of servitors rushed to her side with a levi-stretcher and began to move her carefully onto it. "You BITCH!" came Bachiko's anguished cry. The audience gasped in unison at that one. Bachiko threw a punch at her mother, who effortlessly caught her fist in her left hand. As the audience watched in mingled horror and fascination - in Kaito's case, just horror - Yuriko began to apply pressure. Bachiko slowly sank to her knees, clutching at her mother's hand fruitlessly. Some cracking could be heard. A small trickle of blood appeared and flowed down Bachiko's forearm. "Stop her! Stop her! Please do something, ba-san!" Kaito whispered fiercely. "I can't stop Yuriko from disciplining her daughter when she wants to!" Fujiko shot back. "Ten men couldn't stop her!" "Disciplining?! She's crushing Bachiko's hand!" "It'll grow back - be good as new in an hour or so! Now just be quiet!" Yuriko slowly shook her head again. "You are nowhere near ready yet, Bachiko." Bachiko looked up. Her face was a mask of pain and fury, but her voice was oddly calm when she spoke. "I know, Mother." Yuriko released her daughter's hand at last and walked away, without a backward look, disappearing backstage with as little fanfare as her arrival. Bachiko remained, slumped and on her knees, seemingly heedless of her mangled hand. Meanwhile, Fujiko checked her device and breathed a sigh of relief. "Hanayama Kaori's neck muscles saved her from the worst of it, Yuriko didn't break her neck with that throw," she remarked. "Only slightly twisted. But she's out of commission, alright. A week in the Yakushi tank will put her right. Incidentally, do you know why she still has that scar from her childhood, even though she's been in the tanks?" she said conversationally. "Ba-san, I apologize, but I can hardly think about that now!" Kaito said urgently. "I need to get down to Bachiko!" "It's because no one thus far has injured her so badly that she needed to stay in the tanks long enough to regenerate that scar completely," Fujiko told him with the air of someone confiding a great secret. "I guess this is a learning experience for her too, eh? Hanma Yuriko may as well have adopted the Yakuza Princess, ha!" she cackled. At that moment, Kaito only wanted to get away from this crazy old billionaire woman and rush down to his girlfriend's side. He didn't know what he was going to do - he just felt the need to be with her, if she should need him for any reason. He turned and ran for the elevator. Bachiko the Grappler Ch. 03 Author's note: This series is my homage to the manga and anime series, "Baki the Grappler". Yes, I know there are about 3 different mangas and, I think, 2 different animes with different titles, but I'll just call the whole thing "Baki the Grappler". So, meet Bachiko. Any resemblance to the original work in terms of characters, plot and theme is entirely intentional. I hope fans of the series will enjoy my homage! IMPORTANT NOTE: The original character Baki is 13 years of age at the beginning of the series. Bachiko is a 19-year-old girl. Previous chapters included a note here placing her age at 21 – that is by the conclusion of the series. Within this chapter, she is 19. *** Kaito had never before seen a Yakushi tank up close. Looking at Hanayama Kaori and Bachiko floating in adjacent tanks was a strange experience. He had the depressing feeling that he would be seeing quite a bit of the medical bay in time to come. What a medical bay, though! The most cutting-edge state-of-the-art medical technology was all around him. The fighters here, at least, could be assured of the finest possible medical care, as he had been told repeatedly. Which reminded him – he had to ask Bachiko after she woke up about whether there had been fatalities in the Arena before. When Yuriko had flung Kaori across the arena holding on to her skull, Kaito had thought the physics of it would have snapped Kaori's neck straight off. It was a morbid thought that made him shudder. Thinking of Yuriko was enough to make him shudder, too. Yuriko was... to put it plainly... one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She was also one of the most supremely intimidating. After witnessing what Bachiko's mother was capable of, both in terms of raw strength and in terms of ruthlessness, Kaito wanted very badly to say that Bachiko took after her mother in physical ability, but definitely not in personality. However... part of him had noticed Bachiko's sheer love of fighting. The joy that she took in physical conflict, in womanly struggle, had not escaped him. The everyday Bachiko he knew was liked a muted restrained version. There was no feral wolfish grin, no vicious trash talk, no savage display of triumph with a victory pose. He realized he'd been thinking of Bachiko as just some immensely gifted athlete, with a freakishly unusual body. Not just unusual for a girl, but for anyone, male or female! Now he knew better. Bachiko was a fighter. A budding one, but it was in her lineage. It was in her soul. He wondered what her father was like. A sudden movement caught his eye – Bachiko's tank was emptying, and she was coming out of the suspended snooze induced by the breathable liquid that could seemingly work medical miracles. It had been almost an hour, so the timing was about right. And he could clearly see that her hand was fully recovered, as were her other injuries. As far as he could tell, anyway. The chamber door opened and Bachiko stepped out, her skin still gleaming from the Yakushi liquid. She smiled to see Kaito there, and Kaito felt his heart racing faster. He stepped forward with a towel, ready to dry her off – he had insisted that he be the one to do it instead of a servitor. Bachiko stepped within the circle of his arms and hugged him gently for some moments. Then she stepped back and wordlessly turned to look at Kaori, still in the suspended slumber, bobbing up and down inside the tank. The scar on her face was already gone. The tattoos remained untouched – somehow, the Yakushi liquid did not recognize tattoos as skin lesions, something the scientists had discovered in the nascent stages of the technology. Some bodyguards were stationed beside the tank, and they watched warily as Bachiko, still not self-conscious about her nakedness, stood before the tank and silently reached out to touch the plexiglass. After a while, she turned to Kaito. "Let's go." *** They were back in the Showa Memorial Park. It was near midnight. They would have to catch a ride home on a cab. The Showa Memorial Park, as it was generally known, was really the Showa Commemorative National Government Park. Formerly an airfield operated by the American military, the land was returned to Japanese control in 1977. Later, the larger part of it was converted into a commemorative park, while another part of the airfield was reserved for use by the military, specifically the JGSDF. Tourists and locals daily streamed in and out of the scenic grounds, never knowing what went on beneath their feet on certain nights, unless they happened to be part of a select group. As Kaito looked around, he realized that with Bachiko in his life, he was irrevocably a part of that select group. He was helping to carry Bachiko's duffel bag – a weird sense of chivalry had prompted him to do so, even though it was practically quixotic, given that Bachiko was several times stronger than he was. But Bachiko had simply bowed and thanked him. She hadn't said much beyond a few words since they had left the Park through the gate. Kaito was dying to ask her all sorts of questions – about the match, about her mother, about basically her entire life. He simply didn't know where to begin. A limousine drew up beside them and slowed to a stop. The chauffeur got out, opened the door, and stood at the ready. "Bachiko-chan, Kaito-kun. Get in," said Tachibana Fujiko. Bachiko's small smile appeared again on her face. "Oba-san, thank you," she said with a bow. "Kaito, is this ok?" "Uh, sure. Yeah. Err, thank you very much, Tachibana-san," Kaito bowed as well. He was hardly going to say no to saving on a cab fare home and riding in the personal limousine of Tachibana Fujiko! But the silence in the car grew awkward after some minutes. Fujiko and Bachiko sat in silence. Somehow, though, Kaito could sense that a lot was passing between the two. Fujiko wore a look of patient sympathy and understanding. Bachiko meanwhile was pensive, even melancholy, and whenever she caught Fujiko's eye there was a sense of sad resignation in her characteristic small smile. The car rolled up just outside the street, instead of stopping right at Kaito's door. Before they got out, Fujiko spoke at last. "You did very well, child. And she knows that. She does love you." "That's a damn funny way of showing it." A moment, then, "I am sorry to be rude, oba-san." "I hope you can understand someday, Bachiko-chan. Oh yes... your next match. Have they informed you?" "Yes. Next month. The Russian. Petrovna." Bachiko shaped the unfamiliar foreign syllables with only a little bit of trouble. "You will want to pay a visit to Hanayama next week, after she's out of the tank. You can see her at their headquarters – she will be making sure her underlings know to admit you." Bachiko nodded. "Kaito-kun." "Huh?! Oh, uh, yes! Thank you for the ride!" There was a wicked twinkle in the old lady's eye that Kaito fervently wished never to have to see again. "Take good care of my Bachiko-chan tonight. Celebrate her victory properly, young man." And with that, the limousine drove off and they were left alone. *** Later, Kaito would always cherish that memory of his first time walking home hand in hand with Bachiko. There was a lot to cherish that night, but he'd decided to treasure every portion of it. He'd always had fond fantasies of the romantic things he'd do with his first girlfriend. And he was now doing one of them, albeit with a girl whose physique was a good match for the top bodybuilders in the nation and maybe the world, and who could lift his entire bodyweight above her head with one arm. Probably. Still: romantic moonlight walk down the street where he lived – checked off the bucket list! His mother was already asleep, so they trod quietly up the stairs. Outside the door to his room, he found his steps slowing. "Um," he said. Bachiko turned and pressed herself against him. "I promised, Kaito," she said. "Unless you're too tired?" Her musky scent was almost overpowering. The nearness of her, in the semi-dark, had an immediate effect on him, an effect she could feel through her shorts. She chuckled. "It appears you are not." He swallowed hard, and opened his mouth to speak, to ask if she was sure. But she stifled whatever sound he had started to make, by pressing her hot lips against his. Her kiss was almost as fierce as the one she had given her defeated opponent just hours ago. The mere recollection of that kiss was enough to send the blood rushing even more fully into his cock. She half-pushed him into the room, using her foot to slide the door shut. She was so... assertive! And rough! She was shoving him down onto his futon, and practically tearing his pants off. She jerked his underwear down the length of his thighs and immediately his engorged member sprang out. She smiled to see it, and bent over to give it a gentle smooth on the head. Then she stood up and disrobed briskly. Off came her hot pants and tank top. And once more, Hanma Bachiko stood naked and proud in his room. "Fantastic," was all he could croak, as he gazed upon her physique. "Really fantastic." She smiled her small smile. There was always a hint of sadness in it, Kaito thought. As he had gotten to know her better, he had begun to perceive more about her. And after witnessing her confrontation with her mother, that incredible Hanma Yuriko woman, he was starting to get an inkling of what exactly troubled his girlfriend underneath the calm veneer she put on every day. But he put that thought aside. His attention was fully taken up by what he was seeing before him. Bachiko turned her body slightly to the side and struck up a pose, bending her right knee, placing her right palm on her hip and her left hand behind her head. It was an unusually coquettish pose for her, but Kaito was finding that the incongruity added to his burgeoning excitement. "You really think so, Kaito-chan?" she asked, in a voice slightly more high-pitched than normal. "Y-Yes! Definitely!" She immediately switched poses, adopting a shy and embarrassed posture, putting a bashful finger to her lips. "I don't know, Kaito-chan. Do you... really find me attractive?" "Of course I do, Bachiko-chan! You know I do!" "Will you... show me?" Her eyes were hooded, and her gaze was sly. "Using... that?" A mere tilt of her chin was sufficient to convey what "that" was. Kaito grabbed his cock. It wasn't anything spectacular, he knew (and part of him still could not believe how nonchalantly Bachiko and Fujiko had been discussing it earlier), but ever since the onset of puberty – and the discovery of porn – it had never let him down. Still, he was so nervous right now that it was starting to interfere with his arousal. "Don't go flaccid, don't go flaccid..." he mentally recited, as he held his cock in place. A few moments later, he realized he needn't worry. He was so turned on by what Bachiko was doing that his erection was almost painful. Bachiko stretched lazily, from side to side, extending her arms. The play of the muscles all over her body was mesmerizing. Then she put both hands behind her head, positioned her pelvis over his nether regions, and slowly bent her knees and lowered herself. His eyes were fixated on her pubic mound as it moved closer and closer to the waiting tip of his cock. This was it. This was going to be his first time entering a woman. And it was going to be her on top. He found that it suited him just fine. That first slick, wet sensation of contact was something he'd never forget. Bachiko knew how to draw it out, and the muscle control she possessed in her legs definitely helped, letting her control the pace of the whole thing. First her labial lips enfolded his penis head. Then he entered her more fully, and had to take his hand away – he no longer needed to guide himself into her. His cock was being squeezed gently by a warm, wet cocoon. It felt better than anything he had ever experienced. He could only throw back his head and moan, but he also didn't want to close his eyes. The sight of her in that pose was... indescribable. Finally her slow squat concluded, with their loins touching – he was completely inside her now. It was better than anything he'd ever imagined, especially when she started squeezing. It was as if her vagina was another strong limb she had full control over – she was kneading him with her pussy, massaging his cock, without moving any other part of her body. Without knowing it, he had closed his eyes, as he drowned slowly in the delirious pleasure Bachiko was giving him. He opened them with a start, to find Bachiko smiling down at him. He grinned back. His eyes travelled all over Bachiko's sculpted physique. It was incredible, how she seemed to embody that humorous cliché: she had muscles where normal people didn't even have muscles. As he looked at her ridged eight-pack abdomen – there actually were eight – and the obliques, another muscle joke came to him: Bachiko's muscles had muscles! "I'm having sex with an anatomy chart model come to life," he thought, wildly. Every single bulge and curve on her body... he wanted to just drink in the sight. The way her small breasts jutted out, each one less than a handful, but dwarfed by the pectoral muscles they sat on, which in their own right were as large as breasts... the sharp lines of definition at the places where the muscles of her upper arms joined with those of her shoulders and upper chest... the way her large laterals made her armpits deeper and more concave than his own... Then she straightened out her arms to the sides, thrust her chest slightly forward, and lazily curled her arms into a biceps flex pose. Kaito lost it, right there. And even as his nerdy detail-obsessed mind noted on his behalf, "I'm not wearing any protection!" his body gave in to total mindless surrender. The sheer bliss overcame him, as he squirted again and again, his limbs flailing about, until finally his eyes rolled into the back of his head... He opened his eyes. It took a few moments for his brain to register that there was sunlight streaming in through the window. Consciousness came flooding back, and a silly grin spread slowly over his face at the recollection of last night's activity. He took a moment to savor the memory of his first time making love. Then he sat up and looked around. He was still naked, but comfortably wrapped in his sheets. A cursory check told him that his sheets were cleaned and unstained. Evidently, Bachiko had cleaned him up while he was completely conked out, and put him to bed. The thought warmed his heart. But where was Bachiko? After getting dressed hastily, he checked his phone. There was a message there from her. It said: [[ Have gone jogging @ Showa Memorial. Eat a good breakfast. You need to regain your strength. I took too much out of you last night! ~ Bachiko ~~~ ]] "What're you so cheerful about, son?" Naoko's voice jolted him out of his reverie as he sat at the table eating his breakfast: rice, fish and eggs, all steamed, and a thick bowl of miso soup. His mother was getting ready to leave the house, and looking slightly flustered as she primped in the mirror and fussed over her hair. "You've been grinning to yourself like a crazy person since you came down this morning. Had a good time out with Bachiko-chan last night, did you?" Oh, Mother, if only you knew! But Kaito said nothing, only nodded and tried to smile less obviously. "She went out earlier, to go jogging. Gosh, her breakfast was huge! You should take up a healthy lifestyle like her, son. Fitness is king! She is certainly setting us a good example, don't you think? Strong body, healthy mind!" Naoko declared. Kaito's smile faded on its own accord, as other less pleasant memories came to mind: Hanma Yuriko breaking Hanayama Kaori's forearm with sheer grip strength alone, and almost crushing Bachiko's hand shortly after... Kaori's entire body weight smashing Bachiko into the ground... the blood on both girls' faces... He realized that last night he hadn't gotten the opportunity to satisfy his morbid curiosity about whether there had ever been any fatalities in the Arena. That was just as well! Talk about mood-killers. Yet, he really did want to know. Was this how the spouses and loved ones of soldiers felt? Or in feudal times, the spouses and loved ones of samurai, especially on the eve of battle? His mind just rebelled at the thought of Bachiko sustaining a potentially fatal injury. It was just about unthinkable. And he also realized that was arguably what the Arena was about, the spirit it embodied: the samurai spirit. Not in the sense of fealty to feudal lords, of course, though he had once heard a friend, a humanities major, declare that today's zaibatsu were more powerful and more capable of exerting control on people's lives than feudal daimyos and shoguns ever were. Not really in that sense... but perhaps, in the way depicted in the stories almost all Japanese children had read about heroic figures like Miyamoto Musashi and the stories of his various duels across the land, culminating in his final showdown with Sasaki Kojiro. Honing one's body and skills... seeking out worthy equals as opponents... testing each other's mettle... A parallel might be drawn also, to the way expert gamers from all around the world challenged one another at gaming tournaments and other expo events, the masters of fighting games, real-time strategy games, first-person shooters... These modern-day heroes were the idols of people like himself, otaku-types, nerds and geeks and suchlike. Compared to the Arena, though, they were practically mainstream. As he chewed on his breakfast, his mind turned to the next fight Bachiko had coming up, with the "Russian". He suddenly recalled that Fujiko had told Bachiko to pay Kaori a visit. This seemed strange. Why would she suggest that Bachiko visit her defeated opponent? Would it be safe? Sure, he'd seen evidence of sportsmanship and mutual respect in the Arena itself, but how far did it extend outside the context of the underground fights? Why would Bachiko need to in the first place? Kaito decided to pay the Arena, and a certain old lady, another visit sometime next week. Perhaps he'd go spectate along with Bachiko, if she wanted. But he had a lot of questions and a burning desire to help his new girlfriend in any way he could, and he sensed that the key to doing that was to find answers. *** The next week passed in a haze of dizzy delight. Every day, he accompanied Bachiko on her daily regimen, and got to watch up close as she performed some of the most demanding looking exercises he had ever seen. With every workout routine, she mixed and matched – usually she would start off with some relatively safe-looking movements, the kind you might expect to see in a gym. One of those movements particularly appealed to him: the "bent-over barbell row", she told him it was called. It seemed designed to showcase every muscle on her body. Then, she'd switch to more dangerous exercises with more violent motions that made him flinch. And yet, her display of power made her even more attractive, in some raw, primal way. The way the bar, loaded up with huge plates, would suddenly leave the floor and end up right above her, supported by her strong arms and her firm, sturdy shoulders... She also performed some moves that seemed to be from a gymnast's repertoire. Her pull-ups were almost never just simple pull-ups – they would involve her folding her surprisingly flexible body or contorting it in other ways. He understood from her explanation that it built up her core strength, joint flexibility and muscle endurance. She could hang with her body weight for hours at a time and still be reasonably energetic afterwards, but there was not much point in doing merely that. Bachiko the Grappler Ch. 03 And she did this thing she called the Dragon Flag – she said it was something that the legendary Bruce Lee used to do, and the technique had been expounded upon by some Russian strength coach with a name Kaito couldn't recall, Pavel something. Bachiko would lie down on a bench normally, except that she'd reach up and grab the underside of the bench, by her ears. Then her entire body would suddenly go up, like the hand of a clock, ramrod straight, until it was vertical down to her neck and shoulders. Every muscle on her body would be standing out as she did that exercise and maintained that pose. Every rippling curve, every pulsing bulge, every sculpted striation... Kaito's eyes drank in all in. She worked out topless, wearing only leotard tights, as he had first seen her that day when he had been a peeping tom. Nothing was hidden from Kaito's hungry gaze. But it never felt enough. His sex drive had never been higher. Every night, Bachiko was in the mood for more – and she never ever seemed concerned about protection, even though he repeatedly asked if he should put on some. She would simply brush those concerns aside, and the sex would proceed. It was always divine. He could not believe what turn his life had taken. In his previous life, he must have been some hero who had sacrificed his life to save thousands of people, he mused. Whatever the case, the gods were being exceptionally kind to him. There was so much pleasure he was getting from being Bachiko's boyfriend, in fact, that he began to feel a little guilty – what was he doing to deserve all this? Bachiko herself couldn't come up with any answer when he asked her directly if there was anything he could do to help her in any way – she seemed to be more or less self-sufficient in every respect. She did show her deep appreciation for his offer, but the question remained open. So, as he had intended, he asked to go again with Bachiko to the Arena, to spectate a match – for "research" purposes, he firmly insisted. "Are you sure?" Bachiko asked, quirking an eyebrow. "We who fight in the Arena are fully aware, erotic pleasure is one of the attractions for the spectators. It doesn't need to be denied, you know..." "Umm... uhh... No! I mean, yes, sure, alright, it's there, no denying it," he said, blushing slightly, "but really! I promise, that is not my primary intention! I want to ask Tachibana-san if there is any way I can, maybe, access the records or some information, so that I can pass it on to you and you can be better prepared..." "I know all I need to know to defeat my opponent in the Arena," Bachiko said flatly, but she didn't sound as though she were offended. "I am not particularly interested in their life stories or their personal struggles, or anything like that. The information I need is always publicly available and made known to me well before the match itself. You can go ahead if you wish, but I am not sure you need to go to such trouble on my behalf..." "Well, you never know! There might be something in there I could turn up, that could be of use... Really, it's the least I could do... after all you, um, do for me... I should repay what I owe to you!" She laughed out loud at that, a genuinely surprised bark of laughter. Yet again Kaito had occasion to note that her behavior in so many ways was very un-Japanese. Or rather, not like how most Japanese women behaved. "Kaito, do you think that our lovemaking is some kind of sacrifice I am making for you? I am getting just as much pleasure out of it as you are, you know! Similarly, when I let you watch me while I work out, I also enjoy the feeling. It's sexual pleasure for me as well, or I would not do it. It is not a chore to make you happy, Kaito," she finished with a smile, not unkindly. To that, he could only stammer his thanks and feel a bit silly. It seemed so obvious now that she had illustrated the point outright, with such clarity, and no beating around the bush with euphemistic turns of phrase. But his mind had been conditioned to think that way. It was food for thought, the way Bachiko's mind just worked differently. Still, he was resolved to help, to pull his weight, as it were, in this relationship. He wasn't a very romantic guy, and he was a bit of a shut-in to boot, and she was of more financial means than him. She was also focused and dedicated on her Arena career. That ruled out fine dining, lavish gifts and romantic vacations, all the usual things men could give their women. He would have to do things his way, leveraging on his strengths, deploying his particular skills and talents. He was convinced that she underestimated the power of intelligence-gathering. Forewarned was forearmed, surely! Actually, come to think of it, it wasn't so much her Arena career that she was focused on... It was something else. It was... someone... else. *** Friday night and they were off to the park again. By some stroke of coincidence, the woman that Bachiko would be facing in a few weeks' time, the Russian she-bear Polina "The Pulverizer" Petrovna, would be having an exhibition match tonight against a Japanese contestant. This time, Bachiko and Kaito got a VIP box seat to themselves, and he noticed that around the Arena, several other VIP box seats were also occupied, mostly by women. Judging from their muscularity and racial diversity, it was safe to surmise that they were Arena fighters as well. They were fascinating, unique specimens, each and every one of them. Kaito couldn't tell much just from looking at them like this, but his natural curiosity was piqued. He had his research work cut out for him, he was sure. From the Azure Dragon entrance, Okamoto Jun made her entrance. She came in without much fanfare and to polite but tame applause, wearing only a pair of red thongs, with no robe. On her face was a look of determination mingled with nervous anxiety. She had only a few matches under her belt, Kaito had discovered earlier. He couldn't help studying her physique closely. She was formidably muscled... for a girl. Before meeting Bachiko or seeing that someone like Hanayama Kaori could exist, Kaito would've thought Okamoto Jun was extremely muscular, maybe even unfeminine. But now, to his eye, she just appeared a very fit and strong girl, with quite feminine curves and a shapely butt. Still more muscular than himself, of course, but hardly a match for Bachiko. His perceptions had definitely been skewed. And then her opponent came in, through the White Tiger entrance. The announcer's voice blared, some vaguely ominous music played, and the platinum-blonde giantess walked in, draped in a stylized Soviet flag with the additional design of a bear on it. When she cast her robe off with an imperious movement, spreading her arms out and basking in the crowd's adulation, Kaito nearly started out of his chair. "How can they allow this match?! This is going to be murder! She'll be crushed!" He could not help his outburst. Bachiko remained calm and unruffled, but her eyes narrowed. Polina Petrovna, affectionately dubbed "The Pulverizer", champion female wrestler from the Soviet Union, more precisely the Russian motherland, was quite simply as monstrous as Hanma Yuriko, only taller and maybe a little bigger. She had practically no hips – the muscles were too developed along her trunk and down to her legs, the usual womanly curves were absent. Her hair was bunned up behind her head, accentuating her strong jawline and high forehead. The most distinctive feature about her, Kaito felt, was her chest: unusually for a woman with such muscle definition, Polina had two sizeable breasts jutting out, and they looked natural, not fake. But underneath those breasts was some of the most developed chest muscle Kaito had ever seen, on a man or woman. In fact, the only woman he knew of who might match Polina for size was... Bachiko's own mother. He said that aloud. "They have had a match, yes," Bachiko said. "It ended with Polina flat on her stomach and my mother standing with one foot on her back, victorious. Polina wasn't a particularly challenging opponent." Kaito just shook his head in disbelief. Looking down at the Russian she-bear, he couldn't imagine that giantess defeated, not even by Hanma Yuriko whom he'd seen with his own eyes. And this was the woman that Bachiko would have to face? But right now it was poor Okamoto Jun, 22, hailing from Honshu, who was quailing despite herself. The look of wide-eyed trepidation on Jun's face was painful to behold. But all around the Arena, Kaito sensed, the bloodlust was high. These people wanted to see this sweet, beautiful athlete crushed by the monstrous Russian. It was why they were here. The table was brought in, and the Russian scowled across it at the Japanese. Jun visibly gulped. Trembling slightly, she suddenly lunged forward and planted her right elbow firmly on the table, giving out a wordless yell as she did so. For that show of spirit she got a wave of applause and cheering, but it did not seem to bolster her confidence much, judging from the way she was starting to shake. Polina adopted the posture and took hold of Jun's hand. Deliberately, she put her left hand behind her back, and said, in accented but understandable Japanese, "You can use your whole body for leverage if you like. I do not care." Jun pressed her lips tightly together and shook her head, putting her left hand behind her as well. The two arms were incomparable – Jun had a strong, beautiful, well-shaped arm, but it looked as though it were half the girth's of Polina's. It just looked like a complete mismatch to Kaito's eyes. And yet... even from this distance, Okamoto Jun's resolve was palpable. He found her bravery somehow very attractive, the way it was displayed in every aspect of her posture, in her facial expression, in the defined lines of her tensed muscles. The referee's hand came chopping down, and immediately Jun threw herself against Polina's arm with a shrill shriek. Several moments later, she was looking almost laughable. Polina's arm had budged not at all, and Jun's face showed dismay as she realized just how outmatched she was. Polina simply gave her a wintry smile, more like a smirk, and her arm muscles undulated slightly as she began pulling on Jun's arm with more pressure. Jun's body bent over to the right as she desperately but futilely tried to ease the strain on her biceps. Then, Polina stopped for some moments with Jun's hand hovering a mere inch off the table. She appeared to be barely exerting herself, and on the other side Jun was clearly giving her all, writhing and shaking, her face starting to redden with chagrin as she realized she was being toyed with. She gave another shrill scream and tried to jerk her hand up, but to no avail. Polina spoke. "Will you submit to me, little girl? I will make it hurt less if you do." Jun bared her teeth – a strange look for such a pretty girl, Kaito thought. Beside him, Bachiko snorted once in amusement but remained quiet, with arms folded across her chest. Jun wildly shook her head, and continued struggling. And then Polina, with almost negligent ease, lifted Jun's hand a foot off the table and slammed it into the reinforced metal! There was a sickening crack – for a moment Kaito imagined he'd heard it, but an instant later as the crowd came to life and the thrill of shock swept through it on a wave of murmurs, and as Jun at the same time crumpled to her knees, clutching her trembling hand, it became clear that it had happened. The Soviet strongwoman had just broken Jun's hand! Kaito gulped, and his hand twitched as he felt a twang of sympathetic pain on the poor girl's behalf. No telling what the extent of the injury was, but one thing was for sure, judging by the tears being squeezed out of Okamoto Jun's pretty eyes – the pain was severe and debilitating. Polina herself seemed unmoved, standing there impassively as the table was hurriedly carted off, leaving her towering over her kneeling opponent. Only a small smile played across her stony features as she gazed down at Jun, who was trying to master herself and regain her composure. Slowly, Jun rose to her feet, wincing visibly. Her right hand was in a half-claw, and she did not appear able to make a closed fist with it. "She starts the match with one handicapped hand, just like that..." Kaito murmured. "Just like you did, Bachiko-chan." "Her spirit is strong," Bachiko remarked quietly, "but it will not be enough. This match is not for my opponent to test herself. For her, it is a naked display of power and dominance. Some of the matches are like that." That didn't sound very noble or honorable! Kaito said as much. Surely the Arena should match each woman with someone who could more or less be her equal. "What honor is there in shying away from a challenge, in hiding from an opponent you think you cannot beat, in running away because you think you are outmatched? What woman who does that can truly call herself onna-bugeisha, a woman warrior?" Jun slowly raised her left hand, her uninjured one, and held it up high, palm open. She was challenging Polina to a one-handed test of strength with her good hand. A wave of appreciative applause went through the spectators, and the defiantly proud gesture earned Jun a wider smile and a nod from her huge opponent. The Pulverizer stepped forward and put her right hand against Jun's left. As Kaito looked upon this tableau raptly – the smaller Okamoto Jun overcoming her pain and fear, one arm locked with the much larger and stronger Polina Petrovna, both their bodies flexed and tensed as they prepared to begin their unequal test of strength – he thought he began to understand. In this Arena, a woman put aside her false pride and concern with public image. So many young people in Japan, especially those of Kaito's generation, went through their lives "afraid to lose". Their elders went ahead with their dreams, humbly but with a certain pride in their humility, and to the Japanese there was no paradox. The humble could always hold their heads high because humility was not the same as meekness. A man who opened a sweets shop or a ramen shop in a poor part of town did so because it was the best place he could afford, but he would put his heart and soul into it and make every product in his shop the product of love and dedication. Students in the old days would enter sports competitions to represent their classes, or their schools, and it didn't matter that they weren't the most athletic, the important thing was that that took part and gave it their all. A salaryman worked to support his family, and did the best he could as one small part of a greater hold, but he knew why he was doing it, day in day out. Their efforts would be recognized, their spirit would be acknowledged. This was Japan. Or it had been. Now, it was the age of social media. Japan had always managed to ape American culture in superficial ways, while retaining its strong Japanese cultural core, but now, people mocked entrepreneurs for being "reckless", and they shook their heads with quiet self-satisfaction at every story of failure they heard. "They shouldn't have been so foolish", people of Kaito's age would say, people in universities who were already jaded with life and thought they know how society "really" functioned. "The banks control everything, along with the zaibatsus. Why try to be anything if you can't be something? Why put yourself out if you can't be the best? Who would want the shame of losing? The world worships winners! Why should Japan be any different?" In other words: "If it's difficult to win, why should you even try?" But in this Arena... an Arena where a woman could find herself reduced to a trembling, bloodied wreck, possibly having pissed herself; where a woman would pit her body and will against another woman's body and will, and the stronger would dominate the weaker, sometimes in painful and humiliating ways; where not even the slightest lip-service was given to traditional bounds of propriety for women's behavior; here in this Arena, it was raw. It was simple. It was... Kaito smiled as he found the right word for it... It was pure. Jun was already being overpowered by Polina. With just one arm the massive Russian juggernaut had sent Jun to her knees. But Jun struggled on, flexing her single upraised arm to her absolute limit. She would never be one of the greats. She did not have the lineage of Bachiko, the sheer genetic advantage of women like Kaori or Polina. Yet, she and dozens of other young women across Japan came to this Arena to suffer in matches like this. Not for the money – there were other, far easier ways of earning money. It was for the honor – not the shallow kind of honor that involved public opinion, but the kind of honor you either had or didn't have, the kind that determined what you did when no one was looking, the kind that kept Jun struggling on in front of an audience against a vastly superior opponent, no matter how weak it made her seem in comparison. With a crack, Polina broke Jun's wrist. The scream shattered the suddenly still air, and Jun knelt there, cradling her hands, tears streaming down her face which was a mask of agony. Despite himself, Kaito half rose to his feet, gripping the balcony tightly. "They must stop!" "They will not stop until she submits, or until she is unconscious," Bachiko reminded him. As Kaito looked on incredulously, Jun slowly rose to her feet. Her knees wobbled and bent inwards. Her arms were limp. But she stood there, facing the impassive Polina. And then... she yelled and threw a low kick at Polina's leg. There was a wave of applause. Her fire was recognized and appreciated. And it melted the icy façade of her opponent slightly, who cracked a smile – naturally, her massively muscled leg had not shifted in the slightest. Wordlessly, Polina stepped forward and wrapped her huge arms around Jun, pinning the smaller Japanese girl's arms to her side almost effortlessly. Jun could only writhe around in token resistance. Even from that distance, Kaito could see the fear and apprehension on Jun's face. He did not blame her in the slightest – he knew what was coming. He'd done his research. "Her signature move..." he murmured. Bachiko grunted in agreement, leaning forward to observe more intently. Polina then bore Jun down to the floor, at the same time wrapping her much thicker legs around Jun's. She was a spider, and Jun was trapped in her web, helpless, as she began to squeeze. Utter dominance – the much bigger woman crushing the smaller beneath her, arms crushing arms and torso, legs crushing legs. Polina's back was a mountain of ridged, rippling muscle, shifting like tectonic plates as she relentlessly crushed and crushed. Jun's face, visible to the side, turned redder and redder, and her mouth open wider and wider as she gulped for air that could not enter her lungs. She writhed, but could barely move any of her limbs even an appreciable fraction of an inch. An Iron Curtain had descended upon Okamoto Jun. And yet, she fought on, enduring the immense crushing pressure, fading, fading, until finally a barely audible "I submit" was forced from her lips, picked up by the hidden microphones Fujiko had mentioned and transmitted around the Arena. Polina finally released the Iron Curtain, and rose to her feet. Jun lay there, barely conscious, only her fingers and toes twitching and her eyelids fluttering. The victorious Polina placed one foot on Jun's abdomen, and slowly raised her arms up high. There had never been any doubt that she would win. But what Kaito would previously have regarded as sadism or cruel delight, he now saw with fresh eyes. That gleam in Polina's eyes as she smiled was not a wicked gleam, but the gleam of an enjoyable triumph over a willing and enthusiastic opponent. It was the delight of a match well-fought, even if it had been one-sided, because the thrill came from knowing your opponent had given you her absolute best, and you had been strong enough to prevail and dominate. And so, Kaito knew that the rapturous applause and ovation was not just for Polina's rather brief domination of her smaller opponent, but for young Jun as well, for being so gallant and courageous. Bachiko the Grappler Ch. 03 And then Polina dropped to her knees again, and lifted up Jun's left leg and rested it on her shoulder. She scissored Jun in her kneeling position, welding her crotch firmly to her defeated opponent's. Jun moaned softly and her eyes fluttered open, to take in the sight of the victorious Russian woman, cocking her left arm and flexing in a show of sensual dominance while she bumped and grinded against Jun's soft, dripping womanhood. Kaito had seen and heard some references to the sexual domination sometimes practiced in the Arena after matches, but this was the first time he was witnessing such a thing happening live. He glanced over at Bachiko, blushing furiously. "Is this... erm... shall we take our leave?" In response, Bachiko chuckled, and shifted closer to him, putting a brazen hand on his crotch, which he suddenly discovered was on fire. She unzipped him, and immediately his raging hard-on sprang out, almost painfully – he had been so absorbed in watching the spectacle that he had barely realized his erection had been pressing against his jeans. Bachiko took a firm grasp of his shaft, and began pumping it up and down slowly, while a big drop of pre-cum oozed out the tip. She used her thumb to rub it all over the opening. He became aware that all around the Arena, there were audience members engaging in much the same thing. Men and women alike, if not engaging in anything overt, were wearing glazed expressions. But almost all the attention was focused on the spectacle in the middle of the ring: the sweetly muscular Jun, supine, her arms out to the sides (a bone fracture on each one), being pussy-fucked by the Soviet she-bear, who was almost being tender about it, moving her hips with a gentle rollicking motion. It didn't take long at all before Jun's back arched and her expression turned orgasmic. At about the same time, Polina tensed all over too, every muscle on her behemoth-like physique trembling, and gave vent to a roar as she too reached a shattering climax. They came together, winner and loser, victor and prize, in the time-honored union of that dynamic. Then Bachiko bent over, all the way to the side, and took Kaito into her mouth, and with just a few clever flicks of her tongue Kaito was sent over the edge, spurting all he had into her mouth and throat. As he settled back into his chair, feeling dizzy, Polina stood up again, letting Jun's leg flop to the floor. Jun lay there, glassy-eyed, flushed, but smiling. A puddle slowly began to collect underneath her crotch. Then Polina looked straight up at where Kaito and Bachiko were sitting. Kaito couldn't help jumping a little. That sheer intensity in her gaze! Bachiko rose to her feet and looked down. The audience members murmured and pointed. They were of course up to date on the Arena schedules, they knew that in just a few weeks there would be a main event match involving both of these women. Polina smiled, like a crack appearing in a glacier, and pointed down at Jun's semi-conscious body, then pointed up at Bachiko. Bachiko shook her head, and pointed back at Polina. Still smiling that same icy smile, Polina slowly raised her right arm, flexed the huge mound of her biceps, and pointed to it. Bachiko did likewise. The two held this pose for a while, maintaining their flex-off. Polina then slowly began nodding as she lowered her arm and stepped away, back towards the White Tiger gate. Her slow, deliberate movements belied the immense crushing power she could exert, and had just displayed. The rippling of her muscles was almost hypnotic. Coming down from his high, Kaito began to feel anxious again, as he watched the servitors help Jun up onto her feet, her legs still shaky. Would that be Bachiko, after her match with Polina Petrovna? Would his girlfriend be reduced to a quivering cumming pile of flesh, by a larger and more dominant woman? *** Kaito couldn't honestly say that he had had many dealings with yakuza. He knew of their existence of course, what Japanese didn't? He knew that they wore the label of "organized crime", but occasionally they would come out in force to do surprisingly community-oriented work, such as disaster relief. His strait-laced mother naturally was never well-disposed towards them, but they weren't really a prominent feature of life for him or his friends. They rarely even came up as a subject for conversation. What would his friends say now, he wondered, if they knew where he was standing? He and Bachiko were right in the middle of the lobby of the Hanayama clan's tower complex. Hanayama Kaori had a penthouse suite of her own near the top levels, just beneath her father's own living space. Boss Hanayama gave his daughter everything he could give. She was his pride and joy and the shining hope for the succession, after all. Kaito's knees were knocking together. Bachiko simply stood beside him impassively, ignoring the suited thugs and goons and hatchetmen and hatchetwomen standing and walking around the place. "I'm standing beside the girl directly and indirectly responsible for putting Boss Hanayama's crown princess out of commission for a month," he thought wildly. "Why am I here? Why am I still alive? How will my mother live on without me? How am I going to die? Will it be painful?" His imagination was still running wild as they were escorted into a large special elevator, that took them to Kaori's private suite. As they stepped out into Kaori's home, what he saw was sufficiently awe-inspiring to banish those fears. Her "living room" took up almost one entire floor of the complex. It was one huge open room, with only a few load-bearing pillars around to break up the space. It was a giant custom gymnasium, with state of the art equipment, devices to measure anything and everything about the human body you could ever possibly want to know. There were foam mats, boxing and wrestling rings... basically, it truly put their humble basement with Bachiko's equipment in it to shame. The Flower Princess was there, clad in a modest bathrobe, looking out of the clear windows over the city. At their approach, she turned, and smiled. Actually smiled. And Bachiko smiled too, striding forward, and the two of them shared a warm hug. When the hell had that happened? Had he missed something? When had they had time to become such good friends? What about everything that had transpired between them? "I'm so glad you could accept my invitation. Please, make yourself and your companion welcome. I apologize for any discomfort you feel," the yakuza princess said, bowing. "Not at all. Your home is magnificent, and your training facilities are truly impressive. It is our honor to be here," Bachiko responded in kind, bowing as well. "I have heard that while living with your boyfriend, you have a basement outfitted with all your personal training equipment. I am envious! It is little wonder you were able to defeat me. To have a personal training space, everything laid out according to your own unique preferences, to fully facilitate your training... truly enviable." "I feel abashed to hear this from you! My own collection of equipment surely cannot compare to these modern technological marvels you have here." Kaori smiled again, but conspiratorially. "Bachiko-san, you know as well as I do that had you decided live in the Arena quarters, or with Tachibana-sama, you would have had access to these pieces of junk as well. You made the right choice, and I am just as aware of that." Bachiko was smiling too, and a bit slyly. "Still, it must be wondrous to be able to measure your VO2 max rating, accurate to 5 decimal places..." Kaori looked deadpan as she replied, "Do you know, after our match, I made good use of these machines to find out that the reason I lost was because my diastolic blood pressure was just a little bit too low? When I get it right, Bachiko-san, our rematch will go very differently." There was a moment of silence. Then Bachiko snorted. And suddenly both girls were throwing their heads back, roaring with hearty laughter. Kaori came forward to clap Bachiko on the shoulders, and they embraced again. Tea was served, and some snacks were brought up too – high-protein snacks of yellowtail sushi and tuna sashimi. Kaori was a courteous host, and the ice had already been broken between her and Bachiko, so as they sat and chatted in a corner of the room, Kaito began to feel gradually more at ease. This wasn't so surreal after all, he thought. Hanayama Kaori seemed like a really nice person. With her dragon and flower tattoos all covered up, and her muscled bulk concealed as well, she really did seem like a genial 20-year-old girl, a peer of Bachiko's. With the scar over her eye all but gone, there was nothing much left of her appearance to suggest the violence and brutality that hung over her name like a thundercloud. Eventually the conversation turned to more serious matters. Kaori inquired about the exhibition match featuring Polina Petrovna – she had not attended. "She is extremely strong, no question. The kind of crushing pressure she can exert with her adductors alone would exceed the force most men could exert with their chests and arms. That girl Okamoto, she bore it all very well." "Yes, very commendable. If she were not from such a good family I might even send her a recruitment offer! A pity though, her family would look down their noses at us if we did that," Kaori said, her voice laced with irony. "They are scandalized sufficiently already, that she has chosen our path and built up her body that way. What's a little more to add to that besides? Would it really make much difference?" "Ha! We shall see then, if we have the good fortune to have her join our family! Hmm... back to the topic though... I would dearly love to compare crushing power with Polina. Maybe after you are done with her, I can have my turn." "Sooner or later, you will get your chance. Just take it up with my aunt." Bachiko referred to Tachibana Fujiko as her aunt sometimes, Kaito recalled. "So Tachibana-sama suggested you come to me. You want to know the secret of my grip strength?" Bachiko nodded slowly. "She told me you would be willing to help me. I hope that is true. I have come here today to ask that favor of you, Kaori-san." Kaori got a faraway look in her eyes. "Like you, Bachiko-san, I'm a relative newcomer to the Arena. That's why some of them tend to talk about us as a pair, isn't it? The twin rising stars of the Arena, the young blood, the upstarts. I have not yet wrestled the veterans of the Arena. Perhaps it really was presumptuous of me to say what I did about your mother! I do not hold a grudge for what she did – I needed that discipline. However, what I can say with confidence is this: you are the first person ever, to have beaten me in an arm wrestling contest. "I say this with immense pride, Bachiko-san. You have given me something very precious, something that no one can ever take away. I have crushed the hands of many men, huge strong men who looked at me and doubted all the stories told about me. I have reduced them to whimpering weeping wrecks, sobbing as they clutched at their ruined hands. And now, I can tell anyone who asks: I was given my first arm wrestling defeat by Hanma Bachiko. "You have no idea, Bachiko-san, how happy that makes me." She placed her hands on her knees (they were all sitting seiza style), and gave Bachiko a little formal bow, who hastened to return it. Kaito felt a little out of his depth. He realized he was gaping a little, and shut his mouth quickly, flushing, embarrassed at his rudeness. It seemed that there was still so much more he had to learn about these people, these women! The things they valued, the way they thought, the reasons each had for doing what they did. It was still a whole other universe to him, though he was just beginning to dig deeper into this secret world. "I will say this in my turn as well, Kaori-san. Whenever my mother attempted to train me in arm wrestling, all through my entire life, it always felt as if she was toying with me. Because of that level of training, perhaps, I have never had trouble with arm wrestling anyone else... until that match we had. You are not close enough to her grip strength yet... but based on my personal feelings... in future, you will be able to rival her. You were the most difficult opponent I ever faced across a table. And if you teach me your secret to grip strength... I feel you will continue to be just that." With warmth evident in her look and voice, Hanayama Kaori replied, "It would be my honor and pleasure to tell you about it, Bachiko-san." "Please... just call me 'Bachiko', it will do." "Call me Kaori as well." And just like that... their friendship, forged in fire, was born. In later years, Kaito would remember that afternoon meeting fondly, and feel proud that he had been present at that meeting, in that moment. He listened avidly as Kaori began explaining how it was that she achieved such immense grip strength... Bachiko the Grappler Ch. 04 Author's note: This series is my homage to the manga and anime series, "Baki the Grappler". Yes, I know there are about 3 different mangas and, I think, 2 different animes with different titles, but I'll just call the whole thing "Baki the Grappler". So, meet Bachiko. Any resemblance to the original work in terms of characters, plot and theme is entirely intentional. I hope fans of the series will enjoy my homage! IMPORTANT NOTE: The original character Baki is 13 years of age at the beginning of the series. Bachiko is a 19-year-old girl. Previous chapters included a note here placing her age at 21 – that is by the conclusion of the series. Within this chapter, she is 19. *** Hanayama Kaori shrugged off her bathrobe to bare her upper torso. Kaito's throat went dry as he struggled to control his reaction to this behavior. True, he had already changed his perspective of what it meant to be a "woman", but he still had to get used to how all these fighting women were so comfortable with nakedness. It was as if for them, everywhere was an onsen, and every day was onsen day. Countless men had endured nosebleeds and painful bucket impacts on their heads to catch a glimpse of attractive women in the hot springs. He knew he was unreasonably lucky and enviable. But he still wasn't quite used to it. And he was aware, if he displayed any impolite reaction... this girl was the Yakuza Princess. Never mind his relationship with Bachiko – his very life would be over within minutes. But Kaori didn't even look in his direction. She extended her right hand in Bachiko's direction, and for a moment Kaito thought she was challenging Bachiko to an impromptu contest. Instead, Kaori slowly clenched her fingers into a fist. She held it there, for some seconds, while Bachiko's eyes narrowed, and suddenly widened. Kaori smiled. "Impressive! You've already noticed it? Truly the daughter of the Empress Hanma Yuriko." Bachiko smiled. "You are the impressive one. I see it now." Kaito blinked. All he saw was Kaori stretching out a fist in Bachiko's direction. What had Bachiko noticed? "It's very kind of you to show me in this way, Kaori-san. It wasn't something I could observe properly when I faced you in the Arena." "Naturally! When I am in the Arena, all my muscles are already pumped up and ready for exertion. Here, you can see what I am doing much more clearly, because my muscles are still in a relaxed state." "Yes, I see that." "Would you like to explain it to your boyfriend, Bachiko-san? He looks completely puzzled," Kaori laughed. "How would I presume to do the explaining, Kaori-san! I am here as the student today," Bachiko modestly demurred. "Very well, then, forgive my presumptuousness," Kaori chuckled, and addressed Kaito directly. "Kaito-san, you know the basics of how muscles work?" "Um... uh... sure! Muscles contract when pulling, all movements are actually pulling movements..." Kaito said uncertainly. This had never been his particular field of study, but he had picked a few things up from having Bachiko as a girlfriend. "A movement is created when a pulling muscle, also known as the agonist, contracts, and another corresponding muscle, the antagonist, relaxes. This allows the movement to be done." "A very rough explanation, but that will suffice. What about synergists?" Kaito stumbled over the unfamiliar word. "I'm sorry, I... am not sure about that." Bachiko spoke up. "Synergist muscles help to stabilize the movements of the agonist-antagonist pairs." Her eyes had lit up. "So that is your secret... that is the extent of your muscle control. Truly impressive." Kaori's eyes glinted as she smiled. "Truly, the Hanma daughter. Nothing pertaining to muscles will escape your understanding for very long." "You flatter me." "Now let us explain to your boyfriend," Kaori said, not unkindly. She spoke to Kaito again. "When I clench my fist, which muscles are being activated?" "Those in your forearm." "Yet, look at my biceps." Kaito swallowed hard at that casual invitation. It was one of the most magnificent arms he had ever seen, and through these weeks he had seen some truly spectacular female arms. "Are my biceps not flexed right now?" "Yes, but of course you are tensing them... I see! All muscles work together in a system... even when an ordinary person like me makes a fist," Kaito made one, "other surrounding muscles tighten as well! But... how is that the secret to your grip strength, Hanayama-san?" Kaori smiled. "Watch closely. I'll do it again. It's alright. Just watch, don't be embarrassed. It's just the human body." He wished he could have that blasé attitude! But Bachiko nodded and smiled at him encouragingly, so he supposed it was alright. Wordlessly he nodded, and watched carefully. Kaori relaxed her fingers, and for a few moments all her muscles were in a relaxed state, like smooth slabs of carved marble decorated with her floral and dragon tattoos. Then, ever so slowly, she curled her fingers into a fist again, and this time, since he was actually watching for something, he saw it. And his jaw dropped in amazement. The cords of muscle shifted and writhed, and tightened in stages... all the way to her shoulder and her chest! There were actually three distinct cords of muscle on Kaori's upper chest that flexed and bulged, now clearly perceptible to his eyes when he was looking at it full on and not averting his gaze out of modesty. "You see, Kaito?" Bachiko said. "Her grip strength comes not just from her arms. She is able to control her muscles so well that they work together in this way. Her entire right upper chest is the 'base' of the 'support system'. When her forearm muscles do their contracting and relaxing, she is able to use much more of her connected muscles to stabilize and add force to her muscle movements. Her chest is able to function as a synergist set of muscles for movements that she makes with her arms. Truly remarkable." Kaori relaxed her grip, and the striations disappeared as the cords of muscle stopped bulging, but she now looked pumped all over. Kaito recalled how Kaori had been able to achieve the "pumped" look very quickly, due to her supreme cardiovascular conditioning. He gulped – he felt as if he was in the presence of meta-humans. "Nothing you can't master yourself, Bachiko-san, now that you understand the principle involved. As long as you can do this," and suddenly Kaori made each of her pecs jump, alternately, causing her breasts to jiggle and bounce one by one, "you can eventually do the same thing I do with my grip." "You mean like this?" Bachiko said, stripping off her sports bra with one smooth motion, and making each of her pecs bounce separately, in the same way. "Yes, those control techniques are the foundation," Kaori said, synchronizing her pec bouncing with Bachiko's. Left with left... right with right... Kaito stared wildly at the two pairs of muscular female chests performing this feat of muscle control, with the soft springy breasts moving as if they had lives of their own. The blood slowly drained from his face, and into another part of his body. The next thing he knew he was being resuscitated by a very anxious Bachiko using CPR, while Kaori hovered over them both in the background, her face radiating concern. When he sat up, blood trickled out of his nose. And that was the day he would remember evermore as the day he fainted with a nosebleed in front of two topless beautiful muscle girls doing boob-bouncing tricks with each other. *** Kaito sat and typed. He had several university assignments to complete, but he knew he wasn't focusing properly at the moment. Fortunately, one of them was a group project, and he was doing it with his buddies who were willing to cover for him this time, but he owed them and they would make sure he remembered it. That left the individual assignments which were due by the following week. He wasn't too worried – he was a talented coder who knew his stuff, and he was no stranger to doing last minute work and still making it good. He had his talents, and he was aware of them. So, he sat and typed away at his keyboard, with his afternoon Rwandan Blue Mountain coffee close at hand – one of his few "foreign" indulgences. In the meantime, his mind kept wandering somewhere else. Specifically, it kept wandering over to that desolate region of Earth called Siberia, where a young Ukrainian girl had been taken shortly after her birth and raised almost in isolation. You could find a lot of things via the deep net, if you were willing to put on the mental equivalent of a hazmat suit and wade past the child pornography and snuff pornography and hitmen classifieds. Unsurprisingly, you could find a fair few references to the Tachikawa Arena as well, though there were no pictures or videos of the Arena's interior. There were, however, plenty of photographs of the grapplers themselves, in their daily lives or from their pasts. Kaito even found a few of Bachiko walking around town with him, but taken from a great distance or in poor lighting, so he couldn't really be recognized. Bachiko, of course, could be recognized anywhere with her physique. There were comments about those photos: "The Empress's Daughter has found a new boy toy! Or maybe he is her slave?" And other comments, too, along similar lines. He put all that out of mind temporarily – nothing he could really do, in a world devoid of genuine privacy, nobody really demanded privacy as a right anymore, it was something that only those with sufficient power and influence could secure for themselves – and concentrated on what he had found out about Polina Petrovna. She had been born of two unremarkable Ukrainian parents – unremarkable, that is, in the sense of not having risen to public prominence. Her father had been a farm owner, and her mother had been his wife. Apparently an agreement had been struck with the Soviet government, and when she was about one year old she had been taken away from her parents to a remote government facility somewhere in the middle of the Siberian tundra. It wasn't just anywhere in the wilderness – the facility was located right in the epicenter of the Tunguska explosion of 1908. Some basic research that did not even require the deep net turned up some information on that, but Kaito knew that the "general knowledge" accepted by the populace probably did not even scratch the surface of the complete truth. Even the deep net wasn't guaranteed to grant access to classified government information. It would just take too much trawling to be worth the effort. He didn't fancy himself a conspiracy nut, so he decided not to go to that kind of trouble and possibly invite unwanted attention. The information he was compiling was centered on Polina herself. She had been raised in isolation and secrecy in that facility. At the age of 5, there were documents and reports hinting at remarkable physical development for a girl that age. At the age of 7, Polina was being taken out on endurance runs in the taiga forest and made to swim in Lake Cheko. An incomplete document appeared to be a fragment of 11-year-old Polina's training regimen, which seemed to indicate that carrying huge logs on her shoulders while marching for miles in snow, while clad only in threadbare clothing, was part of her regular training. There was even a document that, once translated, was about how a 15-year-old Polina had overcome a bear in unarmed combat, by choking it into unconsciousness. Kaito could not verify the veracity of any of these documents, but if true... the adult Polina was the result of some kind of Soviet program dedicated to, among other things, her creation: the creation of a woman possessing surpassing levels of physical strength. But why her? The answer lay in what little could be dug up of her lineage. There were uncorroborated stories of how her female forebears, great-great-grandmothers and great-grand-aunts and such, were renowned in their local communities for various feats of physical power. Lifting up boulders, defeating five men in a tug-of-war across a river and yes, wrestling bears and winning... Kaito could only surmise that there was something in Polina's genetics that made her a prime candidate for the Soviet scientists' training program. And she was his girlfriend's next opponent. This... 25-year-old Soviet-bred... unarmed-combat machine... with an unbelievable level of physical conditioning... was going to wrestle his girlfriend. Kaito was starting to realize that what they had seen in the Arena was actually only a tiny sample of what Polina could do. He reached for his coffee mug, and made a face. His coffee had grown cold. Sighing, he stood up and stretched. The feats of muscular strength and control that he had seen Bachiko perform so far... When he and Bachiko were making love, they were a source of incredible arousal. But sometimes, when he watched her do something he'd never seen anyone do before, sexual arousal was secondary to a feeling of awe. The athleticism she exuded, the sheer prowess she displayed, and the aesthetic appeal of her body... these things could not be denied, by anyone. Girls would tend to titter and giggle over photos of a well-built muscleman and say how grotesque he looked, yet be unable to look away because of their sheer fascination. Or some boys he knew would jeer at muscular women for being too masculine, and in the privacy of their bedrooms jerk off to fantasies of being with those women, usually with pictures and videos for masturbation aids (that was how Kaito knew). The human body, pushed towards the limit of its development potential... even a nerd like Kaito could appreciate the beauty of it. Yet for all that... as impressive as Bachiko had been so far, what he had seen of her... he had to admit to himself, it didn't come close to what he had found out about Polina Petrovna. There had to be some way he could help Bachiko out... there had to be! *** "I already told you," she said with some irritation, and took another gulp of her protein drink. There were several raw eggs in that concoction and some other things Kaito had never really bothered to look into. "I don't need to know her life story, or about some natural disaster from more than 100 years ago. I am not interested! I already know what I need to do in order to beat her." She was naked and sweating profusely after her workout. This time she seemed to be going for a gymnastics focus – she used a set of custom-made rings attached to her power cage, and performed the Iron Cross movement. She held it for a full 5 minutes, five times, with only a short break in between. Kaito had looked it up on his phone – the "world record" for the Iron Cross currently stood at 44.5 seconds, Zhang Shu (male, China), during an exhibition in Beijing. He could only shake his head and laugh softly to himself. His girlfriend really was some kind of superheroine. And then she had also done hanging leg raises – but instead of lifting her legs up in front of her, crunching her abs, she had actually raised them straight out to the sides. It had looked painful and extremely difficult, even for her, but she had grimly persevered and the end result was that she could hang from the bar, and look as though she was performing a perfect split in mid-air. She held that pose for a couple of minutes before her leg muscles got too tired and the angle between her legs became smaller than 180 degrees. Bachiko had seemed dissatisfied with herself after that, even though to Kaito's slightly biased eyes she'd looked perfect doing it. She'd remarked that she would need to do better than that, and she would also need to strap weights to her legs as she did that exercise. A quick phone search revealed that she had been training her abductor muscles. What a way to train those! "But surely knowing these things about her can give you a tactical advantage," he protested, waving at his laptop – he'd made a slideshow presentation. "Weak points, abilities..." Bachiko dismissively waved her hand. "Kaito-chan, I saw everything I needed to see when I saw her body move. Telling me all these numbers and reports is meaningless. I don't even know what the Tunguska event is, and I don't need to know. I really do appreciate what you want to do for me, Kaito, but you can save yourself the trouble." She moved in closer to him and he found himself responding to her naked sweaty nearness, as she crooked her strong arm and cupped the back of his head lovingly. "Don't you want to save our time and energy for something more... pleasing?" He decided he couldn't really argue with that. She stripped off his shirt, baring his skinny torso and pale pasty skin. He still felt self-conscious every time he made the mental comparison between himself and Bachiko, physique-wise, but she never seemed to mind, with the way she kissed down the front of his body and stripped his pants off with a playful snarl. His cock sprang to life and stood ramrod straight, already leaking a drop of pre-cum from the tip. She wrapped his arms around his waist and took his cock into her mouth. Then, seemingly without much effort, she stood upright, bearing his entire body weight with negligent ease. Kaito did not even feel a sense of being unbalanced; she was bearing his whole body weight so easily and steadily, even while she bobbed her head back and forth, and did magic with her tongue. He placed his hands on her rock-like shoulders, not for any added stability, but so he could feel the hardness and strength of the muscles at work. And that beautiful face, occasionally looking up at him... with those clear eyes that were practically willing him to orgasm... When he came, he felt like a spigot that couldn't be turned off. Bachiko let him down after he had stopped convulsing, and wiped her lips with the back of her hand, grinning slyly. "Protein Dispenser," she said. "I should start calling you that." Kaito was too weak to protest. *** It was time... Kaito fidgeted. He had once again been invited up to Tachibana Fujiko's VIP box – the grand old dame had somehow taken a shine to him, and told him that he had free access to the box anytime he wanted, for all future matches, even if Bachiko wasn't the one competing. While conscious of the great honor being done to him, Kaito was a bit leery of being the cynosure of attention. Many of the Arena's spectators were casting long looks in his direction, even from the other side – some had viewing glasses, like at a Western opera, and he could see they were focusing those glasses on him. "Bachiko-chan told me you have been trying to compile information on her opponents to help her," Fujiko suddenly said, sipping her ocha green tea with evident pleasure. She had just personally performed the tea ceremony, playing the gracious hostess. "That's a very nice gesture, boy. At least I know your intentions are good." "Oba-san, I..." Kaito shifted uncomfortably. "I'm afraid I wasn't able to be of much help. I could not persuade Bachiko to pay much attention to the information. She seemed to think it would not be useful to her." Fujiko laughed quietly. "She is young yet, my boy. She will have to learn painfully, through experience, the value of certain things in life. Just like her mother did." There was some silence after that, at the mention of Bachiko's mother. Then Fujiko broke it by saying, "I suppose you are familiar with the details of the story about Miyamoto Mushashi's duel with Sasaki Kojiro." "Of course!" Every child in Japan knew that story. "He rowed out to that island, and sharpened one of the oars to serve as his sword." "That part is most likely folktale embellishment, boy! It's hardly germane, now is it! Is that all you learnt?" Bachiko the Grappler Ch. 04 "Most certainly not, oba-san!" Kaito couldn't help feeling miffed. "He was late to the battle, which angered Kojiro's supporters, and then during the duel, it was likely he made use of positioning and the sunlight to gain a crucial advantage." Fujiko nodded, seemingly satisfied. "And what of his earlier duels? With the Yoshioka clan?" The utter humiliation and dismantling of the Yoshioka clan at the hands of the greatest swordsman who had ever lived was also common knowledge. "He defeated the brothers who were the heads of the clan... three times... three separate duels... and that was when he developed his style of fighting with two swords. Niten-ichi, 'two skies as one'. Isn't that so?" "What special tactic do you think he employed in those duels? Specifically, boy, how did he survive the ambush prepared for him at the third and final duel?" He was starting to recall more about the stories of Musashi. "He had arrived late for the first two... so for the third he did something entirely unexpected and actually arrived quite early, so that he could counter-ambush his ambushers!" "Good! You're astute." Fujiko took another sip of her tea. "Musashi did not need to know all that much about his prospective opponents beforehand. When he defeated Agon, one of the Seven Pillars of the Hozoin, with a single blow, he was nothing but a vagrant would-be warrior who had just shown up on the doorstep of the Hozoin Temple. Did he use the Internet, hm? Did he formulate a strategy based on exhaustive research?" Kaito had to concede that Musashi had not. "Yet he was a warrior of the mind, for sure. He found chinks in the Yoshioka armour, provoking them to blind anger. He created a false impression of himself, and at the right time made full use of his enemy's erroneous understanding of his ways. He unnerved enemies with psychological warfare. And through it all, he was using his way, his style, of doing things. "Bachiko is not yet at that level. Far from it. She is a precocious child, though, and she is a prodigy. She is a Hanma woman. The seed of it is in her. You worry, Kaito-kun, about Polina Petrovna's true power unleashed. Let me tell you something you should know about your girlfriend, Kaito-kun. You haven't seen the full extent of her power either." With that reassurance in mind, Kaito watched as the opening of the match commenced. Polina "The Pulverizer" Petrovna came in through the Azure Dragon entrance this time, in her signature Soviet-themed robe, which she threw off without much ceremony before stepping onto the dais. Her blue eyes seemed cold and flinty as she smiled and struck up a few poses, flexing her massively developed muscles for the audience. She was completely nude – no underwear, not a strip of clothing on her. Then Bachiko came in, through the White Tiger, already fully in the nude as well. She looked magnificent, with her gleaming skin – Kaito had, minutes earlier, applied body oil all over her, so that was his handiwork. Her hair was starting to grow out a bit, and now reached down slightly past her chin. She appeared relaxed and confident as the announcer called out her height and weight – she had apparently gained a few pounds, mostly in muscle. But Polina still towered over her and at 255lbs had almost 100 pounds on Bachiko! She was like a pale mountain of muscle facing off with Bachiko, standing with arms folded across her broad chest, looking impassive, as the table was brought out. Bachiko stood in a neutral stance, with her hands by her sides, looking calm but ready. She was exuding that same aura Kaito sensed every time she was in this ring – she was a different Bachiko than the one he knew outside this place. Here, she was a warrior. Polina crouched over the table and shifted her stance, her legs positioned to provide a great deal of stability. Her left hand gripped the edge of the table, and she seemed to hunch up her whole body as she put her right arm up in mute challenge. Her arm wrestling posture seemed almost professional, her elbow placed close to her body and in line with her shoulder. She now took on the appearance of a boulder, an icy hunk of rock. "Of course, she wouldn't do the single-arm version Kaori wanted," Kaito mused aloud. "She's all about the crushing pressure she can exert. She would want to use as much of her upper body strength as possible." Fujiko said nothing, but nodded slowly and approvingly. And as ever, Bachiko backed down from no challenge, implicit or otherwise – she hunkered down, copying the pose, and put her hand up. From up where he was, Kaito could not help seeing the size disparity between the two women. He fretted silently to himself about how huge Polina was. Could Bachiko really beat her in a contest of brute strength? The two hands hovered together for a while... then slapped together with an audible smack, and grunts from both women. Immediately, Polina's power was on display – without waiting for any kind of signal, she began pulling on Bachiko's arm. The slabs of muscle on her arm and shoulder shifted. The peak of her biceps appeared rise by a full inch, maybe two, visible even from that distance. And Bachiko gritted her teeth, but allowed a groan to escape her throat – her arm was being pulled down. That in itself was an amazing sight to Kaito. He had seen Bachiko perform one-arm pull-ups in sets of 80, 100 if she exerted herself to her limits. He had seen her perform bicep curls with weights that he couldn't even deadlift properly. He had been awed by Hanayama Kaori's strength, but even Kaori hadn't gained any arm wrestling advantage over Bachiko with her iron grip technique. And now, with all her upper torso muscles seemingly flexing in tandem, the massive Russian blonde was clearly outmuscling his girlfriend. Bachiko threw back her head and uttered a choked cry, and managed to halt Polina's progress halfway down. Her left hand gripped the side of the steel table so tightly, through the viewing glasses Kaito could see her knuckles go white. Every muscle on her back was standing out, that marvelous pattern of ridges resembling a topographical map of a mountainous region, but it did not seem to be availing her tonight. "Come on Bachiko-chan... use the Iron Grip!" he muttered. Fujiko glanced sharply at him. "So... the Hanayama princess taught it to Bachiko?" she said, musingly. He gave a curt nod, too engrossed in the match to observe all niceties. "Yes. Come on Bachiko... crush her hand!" "It may be that our Bachiko is still as yet unfamiliar with the technique. She would need a certain amount of concentration – wait, look. There it is, I think!" Fujiko was right. Kaito leaned forward eagerly, watching avidly through the viewing visors. Bachiko, having held Polina off to a standstill, seemed to be gathering herself for something. The look in Polina's flinty blue eyes turned into one of surprise, then growing concern. Their trembling arms did not move, but Bachiko's arm muscles writhed in a certain way... and Polina suddenly opened her mouth and screamed. It was only a short, sharp scream and nothing changed in their arm positions, but it was music to Kaito's ears. The effect was still not very perceptible, but he knew Bachiko was performing the Iron Grip, grinding away at Polina's hand. Now it was up to Bachiko to make her muscles work together with sufficient synergy. But Polina was no slouch at all. She grinned, for the first time showing a significant change in facial expression. "You are strong," she said, in her badly accented and slightly ungrammatical Japanese. "Strongest Japanese girl I have met until now. But you are not strong enough to destroy my ability to endure pain. Hanma Bachiko... you cannot crush my hand, you cannot crush my spirit!" Slowly, their arms began moving down again. Sweat was flowing freely down both women's faces and bodies. Polina was gasping constantly, visibly in pain, but it was as she said – Bachiko's Iron Grip was as yet not powerful enough to break her. Her pain threshold was as high as Bachiko's... possibly even higher. Kaito's mind flashed back to the reports he had compiled. The kind of pain Polina had grown inured to in the course of her inhuman training, in the remote wilderness of the Tunguska region... even broken bones wouldn't hinder her much. "Only one woman beat me before," Polina managed to say, as she pulled Bachiko's hand down to within a few inches. "Your mother. After I beat you... I will challenge her again, and win." And just like that, something changed in Bachiko's posture. Her head snapped up, and despite the distance Kaito found himself recoiling by reflex. That feral grin was back in full force, and something else was behind it. Something wild, something savage. "Oh that's right," she said, her teeth bared in that grin. And even Polina, who had faced down roaring bears, who had defeated entire squads of Spetsnaz in unarmed combat, seemed taken aback by the look in Bachiko's eyes. "I remember that match." Their trembling arms began moving again, but upwards. Bachiko was pulling back, regaining lost ground. Somehow, Polina was now on the defensive. The look of astonishment was now unmistakable on her face. She dug deep – but Bachiko dug even deeper. She knuckled down – Bachiko knuckled down even harder. Slowly, but unstoppably, Bachiko pulled Polina back up to the center, and then over. "I remember how you tried, and tried... and you couldn't crush my mother, not even a little bit... with your Iron Curtain. She took it as a joke." Now Polina's composure had broken, like the splintering surface of a frozen lake thawing in the spring. The look on her face showed that she could not fathom how Bachiko, a girl without her girth or her span, smaller than her all over, was outmuscling her. And her wrist was getting bent back... and cracking sounds could be heard now, as Bachiko relentlessly applied her vise-like grip. "And then she crushed you with it, using your own move on you... you sobbed and drooled as the air was squeezed out of your lungs, until you submitted with your last breath." Bachiko looked into Polina's furious eyes. "You won't challenge her again... and you won't be the one to beat her. Because... the one who'll beat her... is me!" And with that last roar of hatred Bachiko slammed Polina's arm down with huge force, and held it there for a moment, before Polina staggered a step backwards, clutching at her forearm, a look of amazement mingled with fear crossing her face. Bachiko's breath steamed from her nostrils as her chest and shoulders heaved. The crowd was roaring at this upset, but it was a dim sound to Kaito. He realized that he'd broken out into a sweat all over, and blood was rushing through his ears. He had spilled his green tea on his lap, and it wasn't even registering. "Feel it, boy?" Fujiko said, slyly. "Your very own adrenalin surge. What you're feeling now... this is what we in the world of this Arena live for. Everything you're feeling right now... I know it very, very well. You can't wait to see how the match plays out, can you?" And she cackled. Actually cackled, like a witch from European folk tales. But she was absolutely right. He sat at the edge of his seat, hands gripping the sides of his chair, trying to imagine how his girlfriend felt – trying to imagine the feeling of power coursing through her muscles, the delicious tightness coming with each little movement she made, the heightened senses. They were just standing and staring at each other now. The table had been carried off and the signal to begin had already been given, but neither seemed to be in a rush to engage. Polina flexed her fingers experimentally, and seemed grimly satisfied that everything was still in working order. She swung her arms backward and forward, causing her massive pectoral muscles to stretch and swell – they were simply massive armor plates, there was no other way to describe them. No man Kaito had ever seen had pectoral muscles to match. Polina seemed to be timing her breathing. As she pulled her arms backwards, she inhaled, then exhaled slowly as she crunched her chest together, making the cords of muscle there ripple. "Systema Spetsnaz breathing techniques," Fujiko remarked. "Systema Spetsnaz? I came across that... it's the Soviet Union's Special Forces unarmed technique, copied from our aikido... but according to my research, she wasn't trained in it! She was too strong to need it..." "Your research told you that much, boy? Then it should have also told you, it is more than just the fighting style! Breathing techniques, ways to maintain calm, survival skills... all are integrated in their system. Polina is formidable not just because of her sheer physical might, you know. As splendid as that may be." Polina raised her arms and stretched them out, and began striding towards Bachiko, moving at what seemed like a glacial pace. Her icy composure had returned. Now she was like the inexorable advance of the Russian winter, their greatest weapon in war since ancient times... and Bachiko was directly in the path. Step after step Polina took, and Bachiko stood her ground, muscles tensed, without flinching. Finally, just as Polina came within range, Bachiko raised her arms and met Polina's open hands with her own, lacing fingers with her. She backed away from her much larger opponent not one bit. It just looked so utterly uneven, this contest. How would it play out? The test of strength began without any ado, perceptible because of the visibly straining muscles on both competitors' bodies. Their breathing remained even, growing only gradually more labored as the seconds ticked by. Then seconds became a minute... and there was no movement, only trembling. They posed like erotically sculpted statues, sweating and trembling. "Seems they're evenly matched," Fujiko remarked, her eyes narrowing slyly. "Do you think so, Kaito-kun? Tell me what you think." Slowly, Kaito shook his head. "No. No they're not. It looks that way but... in fact..." "Who is the stronger, pound for pound? Who is the one with superior muscular power?" "... It's Bachiko!" At that answer Fujiko sat back and nodded with a look of satisfaction. "Not bad, boy. You're acquiring a good eye for these things." It was true! Polina had a significant size and height advantage, and her leverage was the only thing preventing Bachiko from outright outmuscling her in this test of strength. Pound for pound... his Bachiko was the stronger girl! But he still felt unease. Polina wasn't just brute strength, he knew full well. Barely a moment later he was proven right – Polina suddenly broke the stalemate and wrapped Bachiko in a headlock with lightning speed, held it for a split second, then performed a hip toss before Bachiko could break out and counter. She moved with impressive speed for a behemoth her size. But Bachiko was just as fast, and well-trained – she landed on her feet, stopping the toss, and with a single adroit movement too quick to catch slipped out of the headlock, holding onto Polina's left arm with both of her own. Immediately she tugged on Polina's captive arm with her right, pulling it straight, and angled her body to drive her left elbow down on Polina's shoulder. In the blink of an eye she was flat on her back, with a look of surprise on her face – Polina had reacted almost instantly, even as her left arm was being pulled on, with a leg sweep, knocking Bachiko off her feet from behind. "Sambo!" Kaito breathed. Combined with Spetsnaz-style force transfer! So she had indeed learnt those techniques, even if the records showed she rarely ever had to use them! Polina swung her body around 180 degrees, preparing to entrap Bachiko's head between her massive thighs – a truly frightening prospect. But Bachiko had already curled up into a defensive ball. Displaying flexibility worthy of a contortionist, she drew her knees up to almost her chin, extended her legs and somehow managed to plant her feet on Polina's chest right by the armpits. With a single powerful thrust, all 255 pounds of Polina Petrovna went flying away. Again displaying an almost unnatural agility and preternatural reflexes, Polina landed into a backward roll and came up again on her feet. In turn, Bachiko performed a handstand with negligent ease, and pushed herself up into the air, flipping herself around as she landed nimbly on her feet to face Polina again. There was an eruption of applause – within the space of a few seconds, both women had demonstrated that in addition to massive pure brute strength, they possessed superb physical control and dexterity, as well as a high level of situational awareness. It was clearly enjoyable spectacle, the way they moved and countered. They began circling each other again, closing in. Both looked warier than before, and more cautious of the other. Polina did not walk up to Bachiko brazenly like she had done minutes earlier, and Bachiko had put her arms up in a basic guard. The circle gradually tightened, and the tension grew. Then Bachiko made her move, diving in straight for Polina's near leg. A jiujutsu single-leg takedown! In an instant she had an arm wrapped around Polina's leg. Her head went to the outside, and her other hand pushed against Polina's sculpted abdomen... ... but the blonde giantess didn't topple! In fact, she barely moved an inch! "She's made a beginner's mistake, our Bachiko-chan," Fujiko murmured, even as Polina bent over to wrap her massive arms around Bachiko's waist and trap her in an inverted bear hug. The tactic was sound on the face of it – since Polina commanded such a height and weight advantage, as well as possessing longer limbs, a smaller opponent ought to negate that advantage by going for a ground submission. A fighter skilled in ground work and who had initiated the ground game well would be able to overcome a larger or even stronger opponent with relative ease. Unless that opponent was Polina, who had planted her feet and braced her body so well, shifting her center of gravity, so that even Bachiko could not topple her! And now Bachiko was in trouble, caught in Polina's grasp in a disadvantageous position, unable to counter the next move. Polina gathered herself... then with a huge heave, lifted Bachiko straight up into the air, somehow managing to flip Bachiko head over heels as she did so. Her arms were then around Bachiko's hips, and in the next moment Bachiko had been slammed down on her back, hard, against the unyielding floor of the arena. It was a move Kaito had only seen performed in pro-wrestling – the jackknife powerbomb! It appeared to have driven the breath from Bachiko's lungs, for she did not resist as Polina grabbed a hunk of her hair and pulled her to her feet again. Bachiko swayed unsteadily, her muscular arms hanging limply by her sides. She seemed stunned, held upright mostly by Polina's hand. The Soviet juggernaut inspected her, grunted with satisfaction, and suddenly pushed Bachiko's head in between her thighs, clamping down securely. Kaito sat on the edge of his seat, gripping the balustrade in front of him tightly. One mistake... just one mistake could be so costly! This time Polina executed a flawless jackknife powerbomb instead of the slightly sloppy first one. The sound created by Bachiko's thick back smashing into the floor made Kaito flinch. He could just imagine, despite the sheath of muscle protecting her back, that her breath was being driven out of her lungs by the impact. And then the sequence repeated itself yet another time – Bachiko was pulled upright, apparently barely able to stand, and yet another powerbomb smashed her onto the floor! "Could this be..." Fujiko murmured, "... the end of her untarnished record, so quickly? Perhaps... I should not have agreed to make Petrovna-san her opponent so soon..." Bachiko the Grappler Ch. 04 It was hard to watch. This was the first time he had seen Bachiko looking so limp and lifeless, her heavenly body so rubbery, all the tension gone, seemingly too weakened to even flex... Polina clutched Bachiko by the hair, holding up just about Bachiko's entire weight with her arm. Once again, Bachiko's head went in between Polina's massive thighs. This time she was putting up no resistance that Kaito could see. And all of a sudden Fujiko laughed and clapped her hands with glee. "Good girl! Good girl!" she began repeatedly exclaiming, in between her whoops of delight. Kaito stared. Had the old lady gone insane? Had the sight of Bachiko being pummeled and smashed caused something to snap in her? "Open your eyes, boy! Don't be a fool! Give our Bachiko more credit than I did! Hahaha!" All he could see was Bachiko's body once again jackknifing up, before landing with a meaty splat for a 3rd time. There she lay, while Polina stood over her glaring down. And then... he saw it. The look on Bachiko's face. The sarcastic feral grin. Bachiko raised a finger, and slowly wagged it from side to side at the stunned Soviet superwoman. "The perfect way to resist... is not to resist!" Fujiko cackled. "It must've been sheer fighting instinct. The Hanma lineage is strong... very strong! Yuriko should be happy..." Then it clicked. Bachiko wasn't injured. She had, in fact, been barely hurt at all, as devastating as those powerbombs had looked. At the top of her jackknifing movement, she had aligned her back with the floor, and then completely relaxed every muscle. All the force Polina was applying had been spread evenly over the sheath of muscle covering her back, and transferred through her entire body. The back of her head was protected because as she was being slammed down, her neck was unstiffened and her head naturally went up higher, negating any cranial impact. Over the years, one occasionally heard of some "miraculous" survivor of a plane crash, or a fall from a great height. Kaito had come across a few articles in physics journals touching on the subject, and now he recalled a smattering of what he had read. It was even possible, Kaito thought, for someone like Bachiko to survive a fall from a tall building with this technique! But Polina moved fast. With a lunge, she threw herself on top of Bachiko before the latter could twist away. Her arms and legs snapped into place around Bachiko's on the outside – the Iron Curtain had descended! Already she was pulling out all the stops, unleashing her signature move, and Bachiko was trapped solidly in it. Once again there was doubt in Kaito's heart. The size disparity just looked too huge, on the face of it! His rational mind could not overcome the reality of what he was seeing – Bachiko was being crushed on all sides by this far larger woman. Muscle relaxation techniques surely couldn't help her now – if she could relax her muscles, her internal organs would be crushed. No, this was now a test of pure brute force, muscle against muscle, body against body. And now he realized what all those adapted exercises had been all about, the ones Bachiko had been doing lately. Polina's bearhug and leg clamp technique had been perfected through long practice – her upper arms squeezed on Bachiko's, but her forearms were locked tightly around Bachiko's trunk. Her thighs and calves were perfectly aligned with her victim's, and her ankles had locked securely in place just underneath Bachiko's, in a way that allowed her to apply pressure to those joints as well. Bachiko had been training various muscles to exert pressure for outward movement – because she knew she would have to counter the immense crushing pressure of the Iron Curtain. They lay, nose to nose, seemingly with no movement except a slight occasional trembling that ran through one or both bodies. But everyone in the Arena knew what was happening and what they were really looking at. Somehow, Bachiko was just managing to create a smidgeon, a hair's breadth, of space between her own arms and her body, and also between her legs. If one could've slid a credit card in between Bachiko's thighs right then, one would have been able to do so smoothly. "But this isn't a winning strategy!" he exclaimed in a harsh whisper. "She can only resist, without any room to move or counter!" "She will simply have to outlast her opponent," Fujiko remarked grimly, taking a sip of tea. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. Outlast that blonde juggernaut, who had dragged huge wagons laden with boulders through knee-deep snow for miles, who had climbed sheer cliff faces with weights attached to her wrists and ankles, who had tamed a bear by wrestling it into submission, in a contest of sheer strength and will? But then... Bachiko was a girl who could do the Iron Cross for 5 sets of 5 minutes. There was hope. He just had to overcome his natural negativity. The sound of both women's labored breathing, amplified by the hidden microphones, became increasingly audible. The sweat was pouring off both their bodies. Polina had gravity on her side; just with her weight bearing down on Bachiko, she could hinder Bachiko's air intake. Not by much, though, thanks to Bachiko's torso muscles. She seemed to be breathing just as easily as Polina could. Then Polina turned her head, opened her mouth and plastered her lips to Bachiko's, in what looked like a passionate kiss, but was in fact an escalation of intensity. She was doing everything she possibly could to cut off Bachiko's air supply! And now it seemed as though she was pitting her lung capacity against Bachiko's – her torso expanded as she sucked on Bachiko's mouth with all her might. She was trying to literally suck the air from Bachiko's lungs! Bachiko visibly fought back, and their duel took on this extra dimension. They were literally fighting each other for breath now. They looked like sculpted statues – rock-hard muscle bulged everywhere the gaze could land along the length of their twined bodies. Their faces gradually reddened, as they fought over the drastically reduced and rapidly diminishing shared air supply. Whatever they could inhale through their nostrils was negligible – in fact, the woman who took the time to breathe in through the nose would lose, as her opponent greedily sucked the air for herself. Kaito had never seen nor heard of such a way to fight – but here it was now, right in front of him. And all the time, Polina squeezed... and squeezed... and squeezed... Nobody could tell how long it was before this duel of endurance concluded – recorded time said it was a few minutes, but to everyone it felt much, much longer. But when it finally ended.. Kaito remembered it as if it was a dream. The two wrestlers' postures did not change at first. It happened so slowly – the gradual relaxation of Polina's muscles as she stopped flexing them to squeeze, and also of Bachiko's muscles as her resistance dissipated. It was only when Polina's face suddenly slid off Bachiko's and to the side that the winner of the duel became apparent – and even then, not very much so. Bachiko's mouth was open, like that of a koi fish. Her eyes were gazed and her face was deeply flushed. It seemed like such a long time before she could muster the strength to roll Polina off and to the side. Polina flopped onto her belly, with only a weak moan to show she was still half-conscious, and there she lay. Bachiko lay flat on her back, her torso heaving slowly, tremors running through her entire body. She had done it. She had survived – no, not only survived – overcome the Iron Curtain, and beaten Polina in that bizarre duel of lung capacity and inhalation. Kaito realized he had been holding his own breath for way too long, and with coughing and spluttering he resumed breathing again. He certainly wouldn't have lasted two seconds against Polina... or even his own girlfriend, he thought. The duel wasn't quite done yet. Neither was fully incapacitated, and neither had voiced or tapped her submission. But Bachiko could still move. With agonizingly slow movements, she turned and slipped her right arm around Polina's neck, applying an underarm choke. Her thighs snaked around Polina's waist. Then she rolled onto her back, trapping Polina in a combination dragon sleeper and rear body scissors. "And she finishes this in style," Fujiko murmured. "I don't see how her mother can complain, really. At this age, being able to come this far... but Yuriko-chan's expectations have always been so high for her daughter... Still, this move ought to please her. You haven't seen it before, have you, Kaito-kun?" "N-No... I have not..." he stammered. It was breathtakingly beautiful, somehow. Not merely sexy in a crude way, to see one strongly muscled woman perform this move on another. Somehow, this move looked... epic. Heroic. Legendary. "This is known as the Hanma Dragon Tamer," Fujiko told him quietly. "It is the signature wrestling hold of the Hanma women through the ages. In myth, it is how the first Hanma Gozen defeated a river dragon – she trapped it in this very hold. Mythology, of course, mere folklore. Dragons are not real. But... looking at Bachiko now, Kaito-kun... can you not see, there may be some element of truth to the tale?" "The... Hanma Dragon Tamer..." Kaito whispered. Polina writhed with the very last dregs of her strength, and Bachiko squeezed with what seemed like the very last dregs of hers. It did seem... if he squinted... if he made his vision blur... if he let his mind wander a little bit off the straight and narrow path... it did seem like a woman warrior of old, subduing a giant serpent. And when finally Polina went limp, and Bachiko slowly released the hold and rose to her feet shakily, put her foot on Polina's chest, and raised her trembling arms in the air... she did look like an onna-bugeisha from out of the mists of legend, who had subdued a larger woman warrior from the northern wastes. The cheering and applause washed over her like a wave. Polina slowly came to, stirring slightly. She looked up, at the victorious Bachiko towering over her, and her expression was hard to read, but he saw Bachiko look down and extend her right hand to her defeated opponent. Polina reached up and met Bachiko with a solid handshake. Instead of pulling Polina up, though, Bachiko knelt down, pinning Polina to the floor in a schoolgirl face-sitting pin, still holding on to Polina's hand. This was the rule of this Arena, after all... to the victor went the spoils. Polina seemed to know and accept this as much as anyone else – she kept her handshake grip on Bachiko's hand while eating her out with gusto, gladly licking and slurping away. Bachiko arched her back with the ecstasy and turned her face up towards the VIP box. First she met Tachibana Fujiko's approving gaze and smiled as the venerable old mistress nodded. Then her eyes turned to Kaito who suddenly wished he had brought along an extra pair of underwear, as she cocked her left arm up in a flex which he knew, even though it was on display for all, was meant for him alone. She orgasmed in this pose – the power and sensuality she possessed was burnt into Kaito's memory forever. And he knew that later that night he'd be in for a little taste, just a very little, of the Iron Curtain himself. She would do just a very tiny bit of it for him – just shy of crossing the threshold from pleasure to pain. More would probably kill him. He simply could not wait.