(Populated event... Shouldn't be too hard to miss... Just keep walking... for about another 20 miles. What was I thinking?)
Akira Tanaka. A young man, 23 years old, carrying with him a duel-powered sword, a desert-colored cloak, and an empty sack once carrying food and water.
After wandering through a desert-like landscape for the past five days, Akira had thought he had been through it all. But this clearly opened his eyes.
(Next time I'll drive,) he scowled to himself, tightening the straps for his sword around his shoulders.
Akira Tanaka is a young man, 23 years old, carrying a duel-powered sword, a desert-colored cloak, an empty sack once carrying food and water... and memories. Memories of a past he would never forget, and events that had just so recently unfolded.
6 years ago, when Akira was 17 years of age, he had awoken inside the ravine of a mountain. What he was doing in there, he would come to learn. But the adventures he would face would have been the last things he would have expected to gain the answers to questions.
Born into a well-off family consisting of a demon-father, an angel-mother, two twins and a younger sister, Akira became lost during his lifetime at a young age, and has since been questioning his existance over and over. Only years later, when he was 22 years of age, did he finally discover his purpose: to save the World from its own evil. And when he did, the World neither recognized him nor praised him for it. He became just another face in the reborn Earth, and he couldn't have been happier that way.
With an expecting wife back home in Tokyo, along with countless other friends (including a certain nurse and her egg-shaped "pocket monster"), Akira had ventured away from modern life to rediscover himself, promising his wife he would return to see her give birth to a set of twins.
But what were his true intentions for leaving his beloved home? Was it truly to find himself again? Or was there a deeper meaning to his actions?
In all reality, it wasn't very complicated: Akira had traveled away to see how he would fare against the World, as he had once fought against it... and won. Now that his powers of old had faded away into the Heavens (literally), he became curious of his own abilities. And the best way to test it: at a world renowned event.
Hunter's Chance.
He had seen the posters around town, but didn't know what to expect. For a time, he thought it would be some joke-run tournament of wannabe fighters. But when he overheard some friends of his speaking of it, and saying how the turnout was always tremendous and fighters were ruthless, Akira figured he was up to the challenge.
And that is why Akira is where he is today: 20 miles ago, he was told he would find the tournament grounds, and the registration booth, by following a straight road with no leads whatsoever.
(So much for being "world renowned"... There isn't so much as a picket sign about it!) he grumbled. Sweat was pouring down his face, almost like a shower. He was constantly wiping away the beads from his forehead, face and eyes. The pants he wore were of no help. At least he was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, but even that was of little comfort... because it was black.
(I really need to find some different shirts.)
And the sword on his back wasn't so much trouble, but it did tend to unbuckle -- seemingly by itself -- from around his strapped shoulders as he carried it like a bookbag. It wasn't very comfortable, but it was much more suiting than having it on his waist or near his hip. He had tried it once before... but the sword was a bit large for that kind of carrying style.
For the next half-hour, Akira would keep trudging along, humming to himself, or thinking of his wife, Yukina. She was a beautiful thing, with lavender hair and fuschia-colored eyes that were so happy and vibrant. He remembered when he first met her, in a mansion about two years ago, when the adventure of his life was just beginning... She was so timid then. In fact, she was afraid of men because she had lost her memory. But with a little bit of elbow grease (and some support from the mansion's owner), Akira was able to give his future wife the support she needed to regain her lost memories, and face her past once and for all. She had thought she had killed her father -- whom was drunk, and nearly raped her the night she supposedly killed him -- but about a week after she returned with Akira to Tokyo, he was found alive and well in a hospital, and he had completely given up drinking the night she knocked him cold. The two's relationship has increased substantially since then, and there are no hard feelings between either of them.
Yukina... The name rang in Akira's mind like a comforting, cool wind. It carried him into another world, where his mind could remain at ease. It made the minutes pass in seconds. And seeing her face in his mind, smiling at him, and her arms stretched to embrace him... made it feel as if--
Voices carried by the wind brought Akira back to reality. And before he had enough time to recollect himself, just past the horizon... he could see a large city, and people scattered about it. In fact, he could even see mountains -- and what appeared to be an ocean beyond that -- bordering just along the city's limits.
Picking up his pace, and tightening his sword's straps once again, Akira sprinted towards the town, his energy replenished by thoughts of his wife... and of food, and of cool water, and maybe even a hot shower.
* * *
Registration for the tournament was packed. There were people of all different shapes and sizes covering the registration floor. No surprise, as it was the day before the deadline. Still, for being the last day, it was a tremendous turnout. Fortunately, the building they were housed in was more than enough for all the eager fighters to sit in and wait around.
After a bit more shoving through the sea of fighters, Akira found what he was looking for: the registration booths, and there were plenty of them (though one or two were out for lunch, or processing in cards). The good news was, he had finally made it. The bad news: all lines he could see were long. Very long. The shortest line had some thirty or fourty people in it, and every now and again the smaller ones would be cut in front of by the bigger competitors.
(Jerks,) Akira thought.
With not much else to do except find a suitable line, Akira scanned the booths for a nice spot to settle.
...That is, until he noticed one of the closed booths reopening. Through all the fussing of fighters, no one -- except for Akira -- was able to hear or see the booth manager sit, and call out "Booth open. Line up."
Taking his time, Akira made it to the front of the line with ease. It was a good ten or so seconds before anyone else even noticed the new registration opening.
Smiling at Akira, the booth manager -- a middle-aged, pretty woman wearing some light makeup but a heavy amout of lipstick -- clicked a pen, and began writing something on one of the papers she had brought with her. Then she turned her attention back to him, still smiling softly.
"Your name?" she asked, to which Akira replied:
"Akira Tanaka."
The woman nodded her head, then wrote out Akira's last name, then first, on the sheet of paper.
"Is this correct?" she asked, turning the paper so that Akira could check his name.
"Ah... kee... ra... Ak, good... I, r, a... Tanaka... Tan... k... Yes, that's right."
The woman nodded her head again, then she pointed to some seats in the back, and asked that Akira wait for a while as she register and process in the other fighters.
* * *
About half-an-hour later, Akira, who had found himself in a daze after sitting so long, was brought back when he saw the familiar form of the lady who checked him in.
"Tanaka... Akira?" she said, holding the card in front of her.
"Oh, yes!" Akira responded, then he took the card and briefly examined it. It wasn't much, just a simple proof-of-registration with his first and last names, his number, and other information he assumed the runners of the tournament would understand.
"You have officially been registered to participate in the Hunter's Chance event tomorrow morning," the woman said kindly. For the first time, Akira noticed her nametag. Lizabeth. "Do you have any questions, concerns, regarding the tournament?"
"Hmm..." Akira murmured. "Questions... Would you happen to know of any good hotels, or inns around here?"
"Well," Lizabeth turned and pointed towards the tournament building's exit, which was slowly beginning to clear of people. "If you go down the street, you'll find the Shadow House Inn. It costs about 75 coins per night, but considering other hotels in the area cost much more due to booking for the tournament, it's the best choice."
"Wait... coins?" Akira remarked. (Oh, perfect! They have a different form of currency here! How could I forget to bring some spare change??)
"Not to worry, sir," Lizabeth assured him. "You're lucky. They're holding special bargains for newly registered fighters. One free night, and breakfast in the morning."
"Whew. That's a relief." (One night? I know I'm probably going to be here more than one night... but, it's better than no night.)
Thanking Lizabeth for her help and shaking her hand, then putting his card into his pants' pocket, he set out to the Shadow House Inn.
* * *
The Shadow House Inn wasn't as intimidating as it sounded. It was a luxurious hotel, possibly even five-star from the way it looked. For a name like "Shadow Inn," it was definately pleasant to the eyes!
Akira entered through the open entrance of the building, and caught sight of the Innkeeper behind the counter. He was dealing with another person, so Akira stood in line and waited.
(Probably one of the fighters,) he thought to himself.
"...night, though," the person had finished saying.
"Your name, please?" the Innkeeper asked the man, whom held out his card to be recognized as one of the tournament's qualified. Akira noted this to himself.
"Aronath Bahtra," the man replied, tucking his card away after the Innkeeper was finished with it.
"Very well, here is your room key; you have been given Room 9, on the 2nd floor. Please enjoy your stay tonight."
The man, Aronath, nodded, then proceeded without another word.
(Interesting,) Akira thought. (I wonder if I'll go against him in the tournament! Ah, well. I won't get my hopes up too much for it...)
Stepping to the counter, Akira smiled and pulled out his card.
"Welcome to the Shadow House Inn, sir. Are you competing in tomorrow's tournament?"
"Yes, I am."
"Name, please?"
"Akira Tanaka." Akira handed the Innkeeper his card, whom checked through a computer's database. After a few clicks, he handed Akira his card, as well as the key to his room.
"Very well, here is your room key; you have been given... let me check that... Room 10, on the 2nd floor. Please enjoy your stay tonight."
"Thanks," Akira responded, then he headed in the same direction as the man from before, Aronath, had been heading.
(I wonder what kind of people I will face here? It's been a little while since I've had any "normal" competition... Jeez, giant monsters, aliens from outerspace, even demons, egyptian gods, and evil incarnations... I've just about fought them all!) He chuckled to himself up the stairs.
As he made it into the 2nd floor, the faint sound of a harp could be heard playing down the hall.
(This hallway reminds me of the mansion...)
Akira noticed the rooms were divided on two sides: the left side of the hall had the odds, whilst the right side of the hall had the evens. Obviously, Akira's room would be somewhere on the right.
Walking quietly down the dimly-lit hallway, Akira found his room and immediately began opening it. He pushed open the door, and stepped in.
The room was cold -- almost to the point of freezing! Other than this detail, the room itself was tidy and well-kept. The beds were made, the windows were curtained and shut, and there were no spots on the walls or dressers. It was almost as if no one had even entered this room before.
(Now THAT'S clean,) Akira thought to himself as he unstrapped his sword and placed it on one of two beds. (This place is about as thoroughly cleaned as Miwako can clean it...)
Miwako, back in Tokyo, was the maid of his house. A close friend, Miwako first met Akira in the same place Akira met Yukina, his wife. She never seemed to mind cleaning. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it, as she also had a part-time job in Tokyo as a waitress, to give orders to customers and clean after them.
(Ahhh, Miwako. I could sure go for some of your cooking about now...)
With the cold air getting to him, Akira went over to the air conditioner, located just below the windows of the room. For some reason, whomever had stayed in this room before had set the temperature on max AC, and on the lowest possible temperature.
(The only type of people who could live in such an environment comfortably would be snowmen!)
Shrugging his shoulders, Akira set the AC to a more comfortable setting, and let it go by itself.
(That's better. I wonder where they serve food here...? But I suppose I will worry about that tomorrow. I had my supper on my way here... I KNEW I should have saved it... I'm starving now! And they require coins as currency!)
Sighing to himself, Akira hoisted himself on the second bed -- as on the first was his sword, cloak, and supplies -- and made himself comfy on the spring mattress. He could get used to this.
On a desk beside the bed, Akira saw a phone. On it, there was a small sticky note: "FREE HOURS - 7pm TO 7am ONLY".
(Ah, that's good,) Akira said to himself. (It's about midday, so I'll have to wait a little longer before I can call Yukina... I hope she's doing okay. I promised to call her yesterday, but I wasn't anywhere near a town... and the last place I was in didn't allow free minutes. Shoot.)
Putting those thoughts aside, Akira got back to his feet and went off to the bathroom for a hot shower.
