**FAMILY GROUNDS**

**COLOSSEUM, 12:12PM**

Not 10 seconds later following Ilmar being disarmed of his connector, there was

silence. They were all rendered in utter shock after witnessing this development.

“W-Wait a minute…”

“Isn't Ilmar…the superior one?” some members of the audience wondered.

There was quite a delay before any cheering had sounded, but they eventually arose.

Meanwhile, the brothers approached each other and performed a unique handshake

sequence taught by Ilmar, which they would normally carry out at the end of each

sparring session.

“The Final Round, and final match of the day, will commence in 15 minutes!”

Strangely, it wasn't a dream; Jamal would be fighting Satoru.

“Well…would you take a look at this,” Emir commented.

“That idiot…I had a feeling he'd go and do some shit like this,” Fūdo lamented with a

sigh. “Why put the kid in a spot like this?”

“Don't be angry at your little brother, Fūdo,” his mother Miri responded. “After all, you

and Katashi were much more reckless as kids.”

“I know, Mom. I'm not mad at him, but I'm concerned about Jamal. He shouldn't have

been put in a situation to fight the strongest out of them.”

“I think it has to do with Tarik,” Emir hinted. “If I'm guessing right, then Jamal probably

agreed to all this.”

“…In that case…” Fūdo trailed off.

“You're brave, kid...”

As the two made their way back to the West Waiting Centre, they were met at the

entrance by an unlikely visitor; it was Satoru.

He stood with his arms folded, and an irritated look on his face.

“uh oh…here it comes,” Ilmar whispered to his brother with a nervous smile.

On the contrary, Jamal maintained a serious expression, even though he was undeniably

nervous. Satoru was never much of an angry person, but when he does get angry, it

won't be a fun day.

He summarized the utter annoyance he felt with just one question:

“What do you think you're doing?”

He directed this question to Ilmar, due to the blatant obviousness of the fact that he

indeed threw the match.

Jamal was the one who took the initiative to respond;

*gulp*

“Satoru, it was my deci-“

“I'm not talking to you, Jamal.”

The fear that shot into him through the sternness of Satoru’s voice was enough to force

the boy to bite his own tongue to cease from speaking. Satoru hadn't even batted an eye

over Jamal’s direction when he said this; he was looking steadfastly at Ilmar.

However, Ilmar was unfazed at Satoru’s demeanor: in fact, his gaze met with his, and he

stood with one leg pushed slightly in front of the other, with his hand on his waist. Jamal

glanced over on his brother as he stood by his side, unaware that he was the same

person. The same Ilmar who seemed just as nervous as the next person at the sight of

Satoru, was now giving off the very same presence he was met with.

For a second, Jamal felt weak in his knees by simply standing there.

“This is nothing like the vibe everyone felt between Satoru and Akiro. This is...” he couldn't

describe it.

“These...are rivals.”

Having established to his classmate how equally serious he was, Ilmar’s stance reverted,

and he responded to the first question,

“Your brother didn't get the chance to fight you, so his friend volunteered.”

Satoru tried to grasp what he just heard.

“…So you're trying to avenge my brother’s loss with another loss?”

“Well, not me. But, I agreed to help,” he responded.

Arms still folded, his eyes then moved over to Jamal, but rather than making any

remarks or asking further questions, he let out a sigh, and instructed:

“Let's go.”

The fear that held Jamal by his throat slowly faded away, and he took one step forward,

when his brother put his hand on his shoulder, and said to him,

“You'll be fine,” smiling with his eyes closed.

“Yeah…” he doubtfully responded, as he approached Satoru. The two of them were

headed to the East Waiting Centre.

“We'll have this conversation later,” Satoru said to Ilmar, not facing him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he responded with a sigh.

The remainder of their classmates sat and watched, without making a peep. Their

expressions were priceless to Ilmar.

“Pfft, you should see the looks on your faces!” he laughed as he went to take a seat. They

were truly afraid however, from the small but intense interaction.

“I could feel it clearly...” Akiro said within himself. “That presence Satoru gave off was

nothing like in our fight.”

“Ilmar...he's the only one who can stand up to that. The very idea that Jamal will face

him...” he trailed off. He could only hope that Satoru would calm down by the time the

match began.

“Ilmar…”

This time, it was Gina. She had snapped out of her speechlessness.

But something was very wrong…among them, another sinister aura arose following the

sound of Gina’s voice. As they all slowly turned to see what this disturbance in the very

force around them was, they didn't see Gina Sanjuro…they saw a demon. Agitated at the

fact that Ilmar allowed their kid brother to be put into this spot, her rage sparked to the

point that the Purple Flames began to manifest, and grew all around her uncontrollably.

And when she had uttered her next words -

“You didn't tell me about any of this.”

Even Ilmar got scared.

However, as they were about to scream, there was a black flash: almost inconceivably, a

taller figure dressed in dark clothing appeared and stood next to Gina, unaffected by the

flames, with his arm extended to her. It was Fūdo. He had sensed the power of the

Flames rising from within the Colosseum, and concluded that it was coming from his

sister. In no time at all, he warped to their Waiting Centre, and executed the same

technique he used on her earlier that day, and thus the Flames were stabilized.

“Can you stop that already?” he asked as he gave a harder slug than he did at first.

“Owww!!” she yelped. “You don't have to be so mean to me every time!”

“Hmph. Try to control yourself,” he advised as he was surrounded by a bright blue

cuboid of energy, and warped away again. The Trainees were all relieved, letting out

deep sighs.

“Oh man…I thought we were goners,” Zeke sighed in relief.

“Yeah…I owe my life to Fudo-san, Ilmar,” Akiro added.

Back over in the Heads’ area, Tenchi was weaving a hand sign, and Fūdo reappeared.

“Thanks for that, Tenchi-sama,” he thanked him as he walked over to Emir’s side.

“You could have just ran, you lazy shit,” Emir scolded him.

“I know, but that Technique is much faster,” he responded. “It still takes a little effort for

me to release those Flames, especially when they're not mine. I'm a bit drained, having

had to do that twice now.”

“That girl…I'm sure she'll begin to come around any day now,” Lady Miri optimistically

remarked.

“Well…I guess we'll just wait to see this final match then,” Fūdo said as he stared off into

the crowd.

---------------------------------------

“So…that's how it is then.”

“Yeah, Sensei.”

Back in Tarik’s room inside the Medical chamber, he'd been talking with his sensei

Steffan. He explained to him the agreement Jamal and Ilmar made with him.

“To be honest, this seemed quite selfish of you, y’know.”

“I know…” he responded. “I started to feel a little regret about asking, but then, Ja

himself was totally on board…”

This was the beginning of Steffan’s comprehension of the bond those two boys shared

with each other.

“The very definition of loyalty...that's what they are right now.”

“...I only hope it won't be temporary,” he thought to himself with fixed eyes on his

student.

“Um…are you ok, Sensei?” he asked, trying to avoid his gaze.

“Hm? Oh, right, sorry about that.”

“Even though I know the outcome…I'm interested to see the proceedings of this last

match. I wonder how Satoru-kun will fight.”

Tarik looked down in slight frustration. He still faced the harsh reality that he and Jamal

stood nowhere near equal footing with the elites of their class. But nevertheless, he

shoved the thought out of his mind. More than ability, there was one thing about the two

of them that none could ever possibly match up to:

Their unrelenting tenacity.

“He's gonna do his best, believe it!” Tarik encouraged both his sensei and himself.

“…”

“Well...I certainly hope they keep up that attitude,” Steffan thought as he looked away,

smiling.

---------------------------------------

**EAST WAITING CENTRE**

Awkward silence loomed over the room, whose inhabitants were none other than Jamal,

Satoru, and the twins Maki and Saki. Haruo had left the Colosseum, while Galib and

Genki went to the opposite Area. Jamal sat on a bench next to Satoru, and the twins sat

farther away with each other, not saying much. The finalists sat in mostly silence; Satoru

was meditating, and Jamal was trying to quell the uneasiness he'd been wrestling with.

“I don't think I'm in a position to be strategizing...but I don't plan on going down without

fighting. I'll do the best I can,” he thought to himself.

“Hey.”

A voice sounded next to him; Satoru called for his attention, still in his meditating

position on the bench: legs folded in, with his hands on his knees, leaning on the back of

the bench and looking toward the ceiling. Jamal looked at him.

“Why are you two so devoted?” he asked.

At first, the boy was prepared to respond, but no words came. Rather than instantly

defending, or getting agitated, Jamal waited for a moment, thinking on the question. He

wondered on the reason for him asking; whether he just wanted to understand their

drive, or if there was something else on his mind. Rather than a straight answer, he

responded with a question,

“Satoru-kun…what's your goal?”

For a moment, he looked over at the boy, not moving his head, then looked back up and

responded:

“I intend on becoming the Head of the Yamaguchi Clan.”

This was a lie. It was not completely false however; Satoru definitely desired a high-

ranking position within the Clan. He decided that this answer was close enough, not

wanting an entire conversation with him.

“Do you have a reason? Is it because you're Tenchi-sama’s son?” Jamal asked.

“…Partly. I decided of my own free will. To shoulder that responsibility, governing and

protecting my own, I have to grow in skill, wisdom, and power,” he responded.

“I see…” – Jamal clearly grasped Satoru’s vision, it being much more ambitious than

what he pursued along with his friend, to simply become the strongest. He was even

slightly discouraged to hear such sound reasoning in comparison with his own. But

nevertheless, he gathered up the boldness to answer the question:

“Well…my goal is nowhere near professional sounding as yours. I wouldn't even feel

bad if you told me it was childish…”

“But…a goal is a goal, right?”

Satoru reopened his eyes…not only physically, but mentally. This simple question

uttered by his to-be opponent struck him. He didn't show any emotion on his face

however.

“Say…I have a goal to swim across a river, and your goal is to master a Spell which will

help you cross the river…yours is definitely more technical, but we both have different

motivations.”

“I just want to cross the river…no…I just want to be the strongest.”

They sat in silence following this, and not long after, the signal was given once again for

the resumption of the Tournament: the commencing of the Final Round had begun.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have nothing but the utmost gratitude toward you all for

sticking around up to this very moment. Now, with no further ado, we will now be

holding the Final Match of our septennial Hunters’ Tournament!!”

Cheering rang out again, louder than it had from the Tournament’s beginning. This was

the moment they, although not quite expected but, had all been waiting for. The match

that would decide who among the Trainees stands atop the podium, with the greatest

potential of all in years to come. The candidates who would be competing for this spot

were none other than:

“Satoru Yamaguchi, Jamal Sanjuro: Approach the Fighting Ring!”

“So…it's finally time,” Akiro said as he looked on.

“You'd naturally know what to expect, but I can't help being super nervous about this,”

Kento added.

“I know, right?” Zeke agreed.

“Ilmar…are you sure this was a good idea?” Namiyo asked.

“At the end of the day, my little brother himself made the decision…he's doing this all for

his best friend,” he responded. “I just hope Satoru calmed down.”

“Speaking of Tarik, I bet he's super anxious right now,” Galib added.

---------------------------------------

Inside Tarik’s room, he sat upright in his bed as he gazed on the monitor. Steffan had left

a little before Katashi’s announcement, wanting to watch the match in person. He was

extremely nervous…and also extremely excited.

“I can't fight him myself...but my other half, my best friend...he's gonna stand in for me.”

“Do your best...Jamal!”

---------------------------------------

Finally, they emerged: the fighters walked side by side each other as they came through

the entrance. The audience erupted once again, not letting up for a single second

throughout their stride toward the ring. All the High-Ranking Hunters, even the Heads

Gadō and Tenchi themselves sat up, not willing to miss a moment.

While they walked, Satoru actually said something to Jamal, for the first time since the

latter’s last statement.

“I've decided.”

Jamal looked over at him.

“If you land one hit on me in this fight…I'll completely support the two of you.”

Jamal didn't know what to say. Satoru, who'd been constantly ridiculing the boys’

determination and even encouraging them to stop, was now willing to wholly shove

aside every opposition, and to be in full support of their goals. He forced the excitement

he felt down to the bottom of his stomach, and simply nodded in response.

By the time they arrived on the ring, new gameplay was introduced once again:

“For this final match, it will be a Classic One-on-One match. No special rules, no games,

just plain fighting. You will engage in battle until either fighter submits, is disqualified

via Ring Out or malicious intent, or is rendered unconscious,” Katashi reinforced.

“The Final Match of the day is about to begin!”

“Competitors…are you ready?”

They stood opposite each other, with Katashi in the midst, and assumed fighting

stances. They neither uttered words, nor made gestures…their silence was deafening.

As Jamal stood in that spot…knowing full well he was about to lose, he gazed into his

opponent’s face. Fear departed from him. He no longer saw Satoru Yamaguchi…all he

saw was an opponent. Satoru gazed right back at him, admiring his opponent’s boldness

from within.

Even Katashi himself was distracted by them, almost delaying in commencing the

match, but as he prepared himself to leap out of the way…

“…”

“GO!!”

Immediately Jamal charged in. His first attack was a mid-air horizontal back-kick, which

Satoru easily ducked. While he descended, as if perceiving everything in slow motion, he

followed up with a downward axe-kick, which Satoru also evaded by dashing backward.

Jamal landed in a crouch position, and pounced toward him, attacking with a series of

hooks and jabs, which were all dodged. He was then in the process of lunging in with an

elbow jab, when Satoru grabbed it, and swiftly struck Jamal with a stomp kick to his

knee, and a chop to his ribcage.

”Tch! Way faster than Ilmar!...”

He immediately jumped away to get some distance, shaking off the pain and planning

another attack. Running up to Satoru again, he engaged in Hand-to-Hand combat once

again for a few seconds. Suddenly, he started to attack targeting two areas at once; with

every right punch, he coupled it with a left kick, and a left punch with a right kick.

Still, this wasn't much trouble for Satoru, who simply caught his punches and blocked

his kicks with his feet. This went on until he caught the boy’s foot with his own, and

tripped him to the ground. However, Jamal anticipated this moment:

Body Reinforcement! - 身體強化 (Shin-tai Kyō-ka)

With a quick boost in speed and physical strength, the boy turned mid-fall, landed on his

palms, and swung his leg upward, which Satoru just narrowly avoided: it slightly grazed

his chin!

“Hey, nice moves! He almost caught Satoru there,” Akiro admired.

“We sparred together every day, shouldn't expect anything less,” Ilmar confidently

responded.

“But, if that's the best he can manage, then there's not much more he can do,”

Amira added.

Sadly, it was true. Even when using Body Reinforcement unexpectedly, he was only able

to graze Satoru, who still hadn't been going all out. But, if he could just land one attack

on him…

Back on the ring, the two stood a small distance away from each other; Jamal was now

breathing heavily, slowly tiring himself, while Satoru stood unhinged. Things weren't

looking the best.

At that moment, Satoru then took the initiative to attack, launching blows much faster

than Jamal could have produced. As he narrowly dodged these attacks, his body still

reinforced, he poured his all into utilizing a move he'd still been practicing:

As Satoru extended his palm mid-attack, ready to connect with Inverse-Flow; his opponent

disappeared from view.

An ancient Martial Arts Technique which eliminates starting movement: Knee Release.

Jamal not only released his knees, but his shoulders and hips as well. Rather than falling,

this quickly guided him to Satoru's feet. With his momentum, he launched a diagonal

kick that went straight for Satoru's chest. He didn't have time to dodge this – the attack

was about to hit!

“Got him-”

Everyone held their breath.

Jamal’s foot made contact…

…but it wasn't Satoru who was kicked.

Jamal felt and saw it at the impact: his foot made contact with something else before

Satoru. But, following his attack, Satoru was pushed back, and he backflipped. The

audience actually screamed following this.

“Did he just land a hit??” Zeke asked in exclamation.

“It…looked like he did,” Kento responded.

“…No. Something seemed off,” Akiro suspected.

Jamal’s foot had struck Satoru's invisible clone, created just before the attack made

contact. The clone slammed into Satoru, and dispersed immediately. Jamal picked up on

this, as he stood to his feet.

However, by this point, he reached his limit…he deactivated Reinforcement, the culprit

behind the majority of his fatigue, and was breathing heavier than ever, slightly

crouched with his hands on his knees. They'd been fighting for about 10 minutes. He

didn't attack Satoru's real body, but by this point…he'd done enough. Satoru picked up

on this:

“Reaching your limit?” he asked.

*panting*

“…There's no point in me continuing this fight,” he responded, looking down at his feet.

The Colosseum was silent.

*sigh*

“I expected as much…time to end this.”

Inside Satoru's mind…he was saying the complete opposite:

“Good work, you show offs.”

The match was essentially over. Jamal was prepared to raise his arm, and concede, but

not before leaving some words with his opponent:

“Satoru-kun…I agreed to this for your brother’s sake. He wanted to fight you so badly,

that he asked me to do it for him, even though both of us combined couldn't match up to

you. But…after fighting you today, I know first-hand just how far away I am from the

top. You're the strongest, Satoru.”

“…From now on, I have an addition to my goal…I won't just become the strongest.”

“Satoru-kun…I'm going to beat you one day.”

As he then stretched his hand up to announce his concession:

“I…for…”

He started to fall over to the ground…but was caught. Not by Satoru himself, but

something invisible, which set him down on the ground. Satoru had long made another

invisible clone.

“Just get some rest already…show off,” Satoru said to himself with a smile.

“…”

“Winner…of the 19th Septennial Hunters’ Tournament…”

“SATORU YAMAGUCHI!!!”

**TO BE CONTINUED**