Kanazawa City, post-Tea Time Japan:
Once a historical town, it is now a booming city: the traditional architecture having been converted into modernly useful structures, whilst maintaining an overall "classic" feel-- like a withered old man squeezed into a pair of high tech skinny jeans.
I am in the "Hatsune Dome" stadium, fallen on my hands and knees in the ring.
Cue the bright lights, and audience that never stops to breathe. The hot sweat oozing down the sides of my face, and spewing mouthfuls of blood.
My ears are still ringing from the last blow.
I...shouldn't even still be conscious.
My regular human body has been brought well past its limit.
I glance at my right hand, at the Charm Ring I wear on my finger going into every fight, even though I never use it. It's the source of all my troubls in this life; but also a potential easy solution, if I were to ever discard my deeply held morality and virtues to make use of the incredible powers it would grant me.
Looking up, I see my opponent standing with one leg propped unto the ropes, gloating and posing to the audience: a little girl with strikingly lime green pigtails, wearing a tight purple wrestling leotard.
She calls herself "The Anklebreaker," and she's totally kicking my ass.
Before the match, I did research as always:
- New up-and-comer, F Rank at Kanazawa Academy.
- Primarily uses wrestling moves to fight.
- Forces her rivals to surrender by breaking their ankle.
However, it's all useless data in the end. Because no matter what, short of doing the one thing I've vowed to never do, I am simply outmatched.
Simply because she's a "little girl," and I'm not.
"Give it up, Strangelove!" She yaps at me as she's climbing up unto the ropes, and--
Oh...God, no! Please...don't do it--
Oblivious to my silent pleas for mercy, she does it: gliding from the top of the ropes through the air with a nimble leap, to land on top of me with a crushing elbow.
Guh!
More blood ejects out of my mouth, and the crowd is loving it.
Now, Anklebreaker's got me pinned underneath her hulking 68.6lbs. of weight, and she's got her arms and my leg in just the right/wrong position--threatening to perform her signature move if I don't comply with her demands.
"Quit squirming and forfeit already, you dumbass!" She says. "You're only making a fool of yourself"
Damn it, she's right—
I'm getting completely dominated in a fight, by someone that looks like a preschooler!
Not that this would be the first time...
Or, second. Or third. Or fou--
Okay, so maybe it's nothing new for me at this point.
However, such is the way of this world: Anklebreaker may look small and unimposing, but really, I might as well be boxing against a world heavyweight; as she's got me helplessly pinned to the ground, pounding my skinny fist against the mat with unfiltered rage.
Still, I can't simply give up! I already have two out of three Crown Cup Battle wins under my belt already, while I'm one loss away from disqualification--
If I can win, I'll finally be lifted out of F Rank!
If I lose...I'll have to start all over again!
There's no room for careful planning: summoning all the strength I have remaining, I go for one final attempt; one final, desperate maneuver!
This is it! My ultimate final attack!
I'll turn the tides, in a single devastating blow!
"Screw you, you little bitch!" I yell, the crowd goes wild as I'm twisting myself to face Anklebreaker, landing the strongest right hook I can muster against that marshmallowy soft, adorable pink face, and--
Anklebreaker...doesn't even flinch.
She simply glares at me silently, as if I had just passed wind in her presence.
And, in that moment...
I brace myself, for righteous retribution.
I hear a brief, sharp crunch...followed by pain.
Lots and lots of pain.
...
That embarrassing fight...was two days ago.
Today, I'm lying in a hospital bed, watching the fight coverage on an LZU monitor screen.
Anklebreaker is seated at my bedside, visiting just to be sure I'm alright. As it turns out, she's actually a studying dentist who attends the academy here in Kanazawa; and a pretty nice, nerdy guy.
I even tell him I'm sorry for calling him a little bitch.
"Ah, that's alright." He says, dismissively waving. "I understand you were desperate to win, and I said some nasty things too. It's no big deal, man."
Groan. He's much too kind.
I try to sit up, but my bruised and battered body won't comply.
Oof. I'm in so much pain...
Watching me struggle, Anklebreaker sighs.
"Bro, seriously...if you continue to fight without your Charm Ring, you risk getting yourself and others very badly hurt."
Tch! I can't believe this guy is lecturing me...
After all, I did manage to defeat two opponents before him!
Granted, those victories were only achieved through technicalities: one opponent having been too drunk to even use his Charm Ring, whereas the other didn't even show, because the Legendary Z Rank Loser" apparently "wasn't worth his precious time."
Okay, so maybe Anklebreaker has a point...
Deep down I can accept that the guy who just beat my ass, without a scratch, at the very least has a point...
I'm seriously not THAT delusional!
Still, I refuse to use my Charm Ring at all, under any circumstances. Even though it would grant me increased powers, so that I'd at least be on an even playing field against my opponents in the ring.
Some may call it pride, verging on arrogance...
Really, I just don't care for the aesthetic!
Charming Forms don't feel right to me at all! It's just too weird...
Of course, I want to explain all of this to my new acquaintance, but it would be kind of like spilling the biggest secrets written in my diary to a stranger.
Instead, Anklebreaker and I go on to chat for a bit about Gundams, until eventually he has to go. At which time, I take a momemt to reflect on whether it's worse to be mocked or to be pitied; although, it's the same as choosing between two different piles of dung.
Ah, but is it really okay to keep living like this?
I want to help those in trouble, so it's only natural I should aspire to become a Vorpal Knight--one whose job it is to look after and protect everybody.
However, one's "Charm Rank" means everything in this career.
For example, a lowly F Rank isn't allowed to participate in combat missions--instead being relegated to boring deskwork, and various support roles in service to the actual heroes. Basically, no different from ordinary citizens.
That isn't the worst part, however.
In order to raise one's rank, the only way is by winning Crown Cup Battle matches, which pit you against other aspiring Vorpal Knights, in front of a large audience and TV cameras: all of this being rather unfortunate, in the case of someone with my unique principles.
The strange reality is that, since a person's Charming Form always takes on a certain type of appearance, it basically means--
Anyone in this world can be a little girl!
...
A day later, I am discharged from the hospital, fully healed--thanks, as always, to the wonders of modern technologies, that allow for basically any kind of wound or injury to be perfectly treated within a week.
My self-esteem is a different story, however. That part of me seems to never mend.
I am informed by staff that my sister, Blitz, had briefly stopped by, to drop off a fresh change of clothes. I'm a little sad we couldn't talk, but because she's a B Rank Vorpal Knight, it means she's always busy with her studying and assignments; so, it's understandable if she was in a hurry.
I step into the restroom to get changed, but
first stare at my reflection in the mirror...
My name is Alex Strangelove. I'm a 17-year old living in Japan, in the decade following the Tea Time-virus pandemic that wiped out most of the world's population, before a vaccine could be found.
As for my appearance, how would I describe someone so bland?
The simplest way to put it, is to say I'm a regular-looking guy: I'm skinny, with clear glasses, low-cut dark hair and an average height. My face is neither particularly handsome, nor outright unpleasant to look at-- Just sort of in-between, I guess.
The clothes my sister brought don't make a difference, either, as even my taste in fashion is hopelessly bland--comprised of mostly hooded sweatshirts, and drawstring shorts.
I'm like a bookworm trying to look cool, but lacking the personality.
After I'm fully dressed, I head outside--immersing myself in the sights and sounds of Kanazawa City: an expansive roofed-in structure with no streets or cars--only people, milling about on foot, between clothing outlets and electronics stores, office buildings and arcades, drugstores and food courts--navigated by impeccably clean walkways adorned with decorative plants, courtyards centered around grandiose fountains, escalators and glass elevators, more a shopping mall than an actual metropolis.
Everywhere, advertisements and noisy animated display signs show little girls in scant outfits, advocating for anything, ranging from fast food, to breast-implant surgeries, and life insurance.
Gross! I hate seeing Charming Forms being sexualized like that...
After all, they're all really teens and adults--just posing in the bodies of children! And, it's something that I know for absolute certain: because Charm Rings only effect people that have gone through puberty!
Now, speaking of what's gross...
I hadn't mentioned it before, perhaps because I've grown so accustomed to it at this point...
However, most of the people walking around...
At least 90% of those walking the streets of Kanazawa...
Are transformed into "little girls."