The rain was coming down in buckets and the wind was blowing hard. But today was shield wall practice and the boys needed to get their work in, as did I.
Before I arrived in Japan I was a lazy bastard, I did what was needed to get things done and then I went on with my life. If I was properly motivated, though, I could and had gotten things done with a surprising amount of energy. The problem had always been convincing myself that something that needed doing really was that vital which was, I will freely admit, hard to do sometimes. Knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that hordes of the undead were coming was an incredible motivator.
"Kenichi! Get Torou out of that mud hole before he drowns himself!" I bellowed at the top of my lungs. The young man immediately grabbed his comrade and yanked him up, one-handed I might add, out of the mudhole in the practice field we'd appropriated from the soccer club.
I was currently leading the boys in a shieldwall advance, locking shields together and getting them to march forward in quickstep as a single unit. Simple enough on paper, but in practice MUCH harder than it looked. A proper shield-wall required the men in the line to lock shields and keep close together to get the most effective results. That proved to be surprisingly difficult even on smooth ground in ideal weather conditions, in the pouring rain on a field that had the shit torn out of it by rain and hundreds of practices that difficulty went up exponentially.
I, however, was hellbound and determined that by the time Z-Day came these boys could stand alongside Charles Martel at Tours and or the Crusaders at Dorylaeum without being found wanting. An insane goal, but one I intended to reach.
When they reached the end of the practice field, they all but collapsed beside each other, many ripping off the Germanic helmets recently made for them. I reminded myself to thank old man Shirakawa again for the work he and the other grey-beard hobbyists he'd brought in for this project… come Z-day, I knew I needed to try and track them down. Skills like they had would be vital for not just scraping by in the days ahead.
Ending my woolgathering, I strode over to the boys, now a good fifty strong with the various gang-leaders coming by to practice with us. And hadn't THAT been a bunch of fun, convincing those boys that no, they couldn't bring each and every one of their subordinates along with them on these training exercises. Nor could they skip class to come here daily. It'd taken some heated discussions, but we'd settled with them coming on Saturdays after the end of the half-day of school and ONLY the leaders. If they wanted to teach their boys how to fight, that was their prerogative.
Interestingly, it was Hayato and Kohta who managed to convince the various leaders to promise not to cause trouble in the city and to try and curb their own men. I had severe doubts that would work, but watching street toughs flinching at someone with a way too large collection of magical girls from across the years was hilarious nonetheless.
When I made it over to them I bellowed out over the rain: "Aright Boys, last event of the day before ya'll hit the showers. We're having a Holmgang, Huscarls verses Thegns, three on each side. Pick the best three. Best two of three will decide the winner. Winning team gets a pizza for two guys each."
That set everyone roaring and after a few minutes of jostling the teams were made. For the Huscarls were Kohta, Hayato, and a hulking third year by the name of Kenji. He wasn't one of the original thirteen, but had been one of the first to join afterwards. Originally something of a whale, nearly a year of training had left him a behemoth stronger than anyone else in the club, including myself - much to my annoyance.
The trio held an impromptu round of Rock-Paper-Scissors to decide their fighting order which resulted in Kenji being the first in the ring. At 6'3'' and broad as a barn he was a scary-looking SOB, but out of that armour he was as gentle as a kitten, likely why he'd been something of a laughing stock despite his impressive size.
He now banged his practice axe against his shield in challenge of his opponent, the stubble that was his anemic attempt at growing an "epic viking beard" making the water on his face flow in rivulets as he glared across the ring at the gathered Thegns.
When the leaders of the various gangs had decided to come on Saturdays to train with us, they'd continued to call my boys the Huscarls, a joke title they'd given themselves when it'd just been us but had now become something of a gang name to differentiate themselves from the delinquents who were their technical subordinates. When I'd tried to call the delinquents Huscarls as well they had flatly refused, they weren't part of the school they had claimed and they had their own gangs to lead.
I had thought about it for a moment then decided that since I'd gone with the Germanic motif for this long, I might as well go whole hog with it. I'd quickly described the rank of Thegns to them, elite ass kickers who had their own followers but swore themselves to other leaders as well. After a bit of back and forth to make they understood what I was describing they'd taken to it like bears to honey. Technically speaking, a Thegn really wasn't the most accurate comparison, but after their first couple of attempts at pronunciation, I'd decided that even I wasn't cruel enough to try and make them say Ealdorman all the time.
After a few moments, another hulking form exited the gathering of Thegns: Onikumo, real name Yusuke Sawanara, was the leader of the Red Bulls gang and before my boys had inadvertently conquered half the damn town had been considered the strongest delinquent in Tokonosu. He'd also been the one of the most resistant to the terms I'd imposed in exchange for teaching them how to fight.
Said terms had been no selling drugs and that they'd NEVER take up arms against the innocent. Which, of course, covered the unholy trinity of rape, theft, and assault. Hokey sounding as hell but after a few glares and thinly veiled threats, most had obliged. Those that hadn't were probably regretting it now as they were serving as the preferred live-fire test dummies for those who had.
The resulting martial code was an interesting mashup of pre-Christian germanic honor and Bushido with a dash of Medieval Chivalry for good measure. One result had been the Holmgang, despite swearing 'allegiance' to the Huscarls, these gangs had been feuding for years and grudges like theirs didn't simply stop like that. They did, however,take to stepping down the street brawls, instead favoring duels and setpiece battles where they could properly work out their aggression in 'glorious and honorable combat'. The end result tended to be bumps, bruises, and an all-around reduction in conventional thuggery.
In all honesty, it was a bit creepy how into it they were getting. While I��d modeled my own boys on the early Anglo-Saxons, they'd found the northern end of the germanic sphere to be more to their liking. I'd heard some strange stories about them building shrines to Odin and Thor, the latter of which often involved a distressing amount of comic book memorabilia. Many had also taken up Norse nicknames, as well. Tokonosu's thug life was showing a growing number of Ragnars, Hrothgars, and even one gang head who'd coined himself as 'Eric the Red'.
Ultimately, though, a bunch of Norse-crazed delinquents would have been harmless if not for another, FAR more concerning habit they'd picked up. Having learned the difference between being Norse and what it meant to be a Viking, some of them found a loophole in my 'don't attack the innocent' rule.
More than once a couple gangs decide to band together and 'go a-Viking'. Simply put, they'd grab their gear and wander into the territory of gangs who'd either refused my terms or were outside of the area my boys commonly went. Once there, they'd either roll any gang members they found for cash, or if they were feeling more adventurous, 'raid the monastery'. Which meant they'd make a beeline for their gang clubhouse, and once there beat the shit out of anyone present, loot it for everything that wasn't nailed down, and then smash everything that was.
When I'd heard about those little adventures, my heart had nearly stopped. This was getting WAY out of control and I had no idea how much longer this could last before I got the Japanese Fuzz coming after my ass. Learning how to sleep on my back and keep one eye open at all times was not how I wanted to spend my last month before Z-Day… that, and Shizuka would be sad if I did something that got me arrested. Or, Heaven forbid, they tangled with a Yakuza member, if that happened they were dead, no ifs, ands, or buts and there wasn't a damn thing I could do to prevent that.
My introspection was cut short when Kenji and Onikumo bellowed at each other from either side of the ring and slammed into each other with an almighty crash. Digging their feet into the muddy ground they pushed at each other with their shields while trying to hammer each other with their wooden axes. Back and forth around the ring they shoved at each other until Kenji managed to hook his axe behind Onikuma's shield and wrench it out of the way then following it up with a shield bash that drove the big youth backwards, and through the rain I could see that Onikuma spat blood. Right, then…
"End the match! First blood goes to Kenji and the Huscarls." My boys immediately roared in approval at Kenji's victory, clashing their shields and beating their chests. The Thegns on the other side of the ring mutter under their breath but did little else.
"Right next pair, enter the ring."
With that Kohta stepped into the ring. Sports glasses wrapped around his head and under his helmet, I'd never figured out how he'd gotten everything to fit properly.
Across from him came a tall young man with dark hair and one of the most diabolical grins I'd ever seen. Tatsumi Oga, sometimes called the Devil or among the more Norse inclined, Surtr. When I'd heard that name and seen that fang-like grin he often sported I'd had a mild panic attack. Did ROB pull another fast one on me and shove even more bullshit on my plate to deal with?
After a few weeks, I'd calmed down when I never saw a green-haired baby clinging to him, but I'd swear that I did see a busty blond in a gothic lolita outfit once… out of the corner of my eye. It was... odd…
This was going to be an interesting fight. Oga had been a late joiner. He'd just wandered in one day looking for a challenge and after seeing what I'd had to offer, said it looked like fun. And it was. For him, at least.
Oga was a demon of a fighter, pure and simple. He was a lone wolf and the only one of the Thegns who wasn't also the leader of his own gang. I'd heard rumors of how he'd been able to fight entire gangs before on his own, and honestly I could believe it. He wasn't exactly the best suited for shield wall tactics, but on an individual level he was almost unstoppable.
In fact, none of my boys had been able to beat him yet. Some had come very close, but the slippery bastard had always managed to pull out a win. That was why Kohta had formed something of a rivalry with the delinquent. He was the first of my disciples and one of the strongest. To him it was a matter of honor. For Oga, well, I wasn't going to hazard a guess as to how his twisted mind worked, but he seemed to enjoy the challenge.
He sneered as Onikuma walked past and for a moment the tension in the air was palpable. The two hated each other and after the first couple of disasters, I'd outright banned them from sharing a ring during these meetups. While watching those two fight was entertaining, when paired up they tended to ignore the first blood rule in favor of the Thunderdome standard. Trying to explain a dead teenager to the police was not my idea of fun nor was it in any way beneficial to my continued well-being.
Kohta snarled when he saw Oga was his opponent. "This time it's my win. I've been training myself to the bones for this fight and there's no way in hell you're beating me."
Oga for his part just grinned. His tone was dismissive but there was a distinct gleam in his eye. "Yeah, ya' said that the last time we fought, and the one before that too. So shut up and let's do this."
Kohta didn't deign to verbally respond to that, instead he raised his shield and advanced on Oga, his short stature allowing for more of his body to be protected by his shield. Oga, for his part, simply stood there for a moment, waiting for Kohta to get in range. Then he let loose a barrage of blows with his axe, using his greater height and reach to try and batter down Kohta's defenses.
In this situation, most people would try and draw away from the attack and reevaluate, but instead Kohta seemed to charge into it, smashing his shield against Oga's both in an attempt to negate his reach advantage and to make the most of his greater strength and lower center of gravity.
Between the strike to his balance and the questionable state of the ground, it almost sent Oga sprawling. It was very much to his credit, however, that he kept his footing and managed to recover almost immediately before pivoting out of the reach of his opponent. Twirling his axe in his hand and grinning like a psychopath he chuckled. "Ha! That was new. Almost got me there, short stack! Just don't think you're gonna get the chance to do it again."
Kohta didn't say anything, he wasn't one for shittalking during a fight. Instead he came forward again at a steady but calm pace.
Oga braced himself as well, so when Kohta charged at the last moment, the taller boy was able to take his charge without losing his balance. The two shoved at each other for a moment before Oga ground out between clenched teeth: "Ya deaf shorty? I just said that wouldn't work a second time."
With that, he shortened the grip on his axe and punched at Kohta's face in an attempt to force him to back off. Kohta however simply ducked his head, allowing his helmet to accept the blow. Had they been using real axes it would have been something of a risky move, but as the old saying goes, without risk there can be no victory.
Kohta then began driving forward again while at the same time using the lower position of his shield to begin forcing Oga's shield up, leaving him open for a body blow and a win in this duel. A predatory grin spread across Kohta's face, not unlike the one almost permanently slapped across Oga's. I raised an eyebrow, impressed at Kohta, beating Oga in the Holmgang had become almost an obsession for him, and it looked like he was finally going to do it.
Then, to my surprise, Oga slipped on the wet ground and hit the ground with a thud. Kohta, momentarily surprised at this sudden windfall, went in for the kill. Almost faster than the eye could follow, Oga swept his legs and hooked Kohta's, sending the boy crashing to the ground with a thud. Then Oga, like greased lightning, had gotten off the ground, leaving his shield behind, and was on top of Kohta in a heartbeat. One knee pinning Kohta's shield to hit chest, his free hand pinning Kohta's axe hand to the ground and his own axe pressed against Kohta's throat which, had it have been real, would have likely begun to cut into the shorter fighter's throat.
"Ya give up?" Oga asked, the smuggest smile in the world on his face.
Kohta glared at Oga with a white hot fury, before sighing and muttering: "I give."
Oga laughed and got off him. "Not bad, shorty, ya almost got me that time."
He then offered his axe to Kohta so he could grab it and pull himself up. "No hard feelings, right?"
Kohta grinned and grabbed the axe, then he pulled down violently, dragging the off-balance Oga off his feet to splat into the mud right next to him. "None at all."
Oga spluttered for a moment then stared at Kohta, then he burst out laughing, clutching at his sides. Kohta soon followed him and both mud-coated boys were simply howling in laughter.
"Why don't you two stop with the foreplay and just fuck already!"
I snapped my head in the direction of the Thegn who'd said that: Daigo Matsumari, leader of the Heavenly Dragons. He wasn't one of the best fighters among the Thegns, but he did have the loudest mouth. He also was one of the first to start fighting with my boys, as well as one of the last to join, and while I didn't have any proof, I'd bet a month's pay that he was probably also also one of the idiots who'd come up with the whole 'going a-viking' idea.
In other words, he was a nasty little streak of piss, the better part of which probably ran down the side of his mother's leg. And if the look on Oga's face was any indication, wouldn't be too long for this world if I didn't interfere.
Almost reluctantly, I stepped forward and spoke up in a loud and clear tone. "Daigo-san, so nice of you to volunteer for the last duel. Hayato, you're up, it's one and one so far and this'll be the tie-breaker."
Daigo went as pale as a sheet at those words, while his comrades simply laughed at his misfortune. Hayato was, simply put, the best fighter among the Huscarls, and while he wouldn't beat on a man while he was down, if he thought you needed an asskicking he wouldn't hesitate to deliver. And Daigo needed one like a fish needs water.
I was about to start the fight when I happened to glance up and see two shapes moving through the rain from the school's main building. I tried to see who the two were but the intensity of the rain made it difficult to make out any features. Glancing back at the still smoldering fury in Oga's eyes I made a snap decision.
"Alright, I need to go handle this," I said calmly. "Oga, since you won the last bout, you get to ref."
Daigo's face went from pale to bleached at Oga's smile, the sheer gleeful cruelty in which would have given lesser men nightmares. "I'll do ya proud, Sensei," he replied with far too much cheer.
"I'm sure you will," I replied drolly, suppressing a slight shudder. Oga calling anyone sensei was never a good sign.
My Huscarls were chanting Hayato's name while the Thegns were making bets on how long Hayato was going to toy with Daigo before he pussied out when I turned and started to walk over to the two shapes in the rain.
It took a few moments before I could make out any details, but it was soon clear that the two were short, likely two women, the blue raincoats they wore indicated they were police officers. My stomach seemed to plummet for an instant before I squared my shoulders and marched over to the two officers.
"Greetings, ladies," I said with a polite nod. "How may I be of assistance?"
The taller of the two, a dark-haired woman a bit older than me, stepped forward and said: "Good afternoon, sir, I'm Officer Matsushima. Are you Thomas Brody?"
I fought back a slight flinch at her pronunciation of my name. Come on Japan, was it really that hard? "Yes, ma'am."
She sighed, unsure how to continue, while behind me I could hear Daigo bellowing in terror as Hayato was beating the asshole out of him. She looked over my shoulder trying to see the source of that racket then turned back to me. "About a month ago, our station began receiving some interesting reports. It seems that the street crime in many areas took a strange and interesting... shift."
I fought down a sigh, knowing damn well why that was. "How so, officer?"
She glanced over my shoulder for a moment and then looked at me with a peaked eyebrow.
It seemed that Hayato had Daigo on the ground and seemed to be driving him into the earth like a human nail.
"It's to submission and they're using pads?" I offered weakly.
She nodded in seeming acceptance before moving on. It seemed that the sports culture in Japan was just a hair more accepting of extreme violence. I mean, just the stories I heard about the Jindai Rugby Team alone...
"Back to your question, the reports I mentioned said that overall harassment of civilians by local street gangs has plummeted, while violence among the gangs themselves has shot up tremendously in some areas while vanishing completely in others." Well, it seemed the action of the Thegns had been noticed. Surprised it took as long as it had.
"Well, that sounds like good news, officer, but what brings you here?" I asked.
"Many of my colleagues would agree with you," she replied. "You're not currently under investigation but if you discover that your..." She paused. "Students do anything clearly illegal I expect you to contact the police."
I nodded. This was starting to seem a bit fishy. There's no way they'd have sent a street cop, even one as cute this this one, to deliver this kind of warning. "So what brings you here, officer?"
"I'm here investigating a report of an interrupted purse snatching. A few days ago in the Hanbai shopping district, we had a purse-snatcher try and make off with a woman's purse. Before the thief ran more than a few paces a known gang member of the Iron Tigers clotheslined the thief and returned the purse to the woman."
I have to admit I gave her an unimpressed look as I read between the lines. Her superiors were content to just leave things be for the moment, but little miss ambitious junior officer was trying to find a feather for her cap.
"Sounds like he was just being a good citizen, officer." I said, now getting slightly annoyed.
"While none of the witnesses would corroborate, according to the thief, his wallet was stolen by the delinquent while he was on the ground. He claimed he heard him mutter something about spoils of war while he was being beaten."
"And none of the witnesses will corroborate?" I asked, repeating her own statement.
"Yes, sir..." She replied with as much professionalism as she could muster.
"Then why are you here?" I asked once more.
She flushed. It would have been cute if she hadn't been trying to grill me. "Because the woman who owned the purse has placed an open reward to the young man who retrieved it for her."
I smirked and glanced over to the Thegns. "Hey! Uremeshi! Seems one of your boys is a regular old good samaritan!" I shouted over the pounding rain, laughing street thugs, and the cries of the damned. ��Lady Cop is here about some kind of reward."
Sasuke raised his head at the sound of his name and glanced in my direction. It took him a moment to remember what I was talking about before he smiled. "Oh, ole Ichi the white knight, eh? So he really did clothesline that Black Ronin motherfucker? Hah! Need to tell the others to stop giving him shit for making up stories."
"Language Uremeshi, we are in the presence of ladies."
"They're just a couple pi-"
"Ladies, and if you finish that last word I swear I'll turn around and study my finger nails while they break their nightsticks off in your ass," I turned around and bowed. "My apologies officers, they're not entirely housebroken yet."
The younger of the two, a petite blonde, giggled slightly, earning herself a curt glare from her superior.
I glanced over to the smaller woman and my eyes widened momentarily. Asami Nakaoka, a survivor that the high school crew came across at the local mall, had a spark of a romance with Kohta... and… well, her end was a tragedy worthy of Shakespeare… hopefully I could avert it... but I can't be everywhere at once…
Fuck. I'd have to try. And probably try and save Jackass Senpai here. She was a nice girl and you know what, Kohta deserves to have some happiness considering all the shit about to be dumped on his plate.
Just as I was thinking that the Huscarls were walking past the three of us as they headed towards the showers, I then had a brain storm. "Hey Kohta! Why don't you explain to these fine officers what exactly I've been doing here, because they seem to think we're doing some shady business here."
"Alright Sen...sei…"
His eyes widened as they met with Asami's, who blushed in turn. I looked between the two of them for a moment, and swore I saw sparkles and a fucking rainbow.
If Dreamweaver started playing spontaneously in the background I swore I'd-
Oh, no way...
My head whipped back to the Huscarls. "Kenji, answer your damned phone."
"Yes sensei!" He replied with a flush as he started toward the bleachers with a joyful smile. His girlfriend was calling.
I turned back to the young pair, and sighed. Damn that was fast… and now I was obligated to at least try and track her down if I didn't want the Huscarls to split up on Z-Day considering the respect the others gave Kohta as the first member of the club and the one who invited them in the first place.
Fuck.