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by RisanF Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Drama · #1647105
Park and Risan know how to fight, but does Risan know when to stop?
Psych Masters: Blood, Sweat, and Tears

By Reid M. Haynes


Park and Risan, from "Psych Masters."


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The story so far:
Unhappy with his unrequited love for a girl named Joy, 15-year old Park moves in with his friend Risan in the worst part of town to try out his uncanny fighting skill in cleaning the streets. Their enemy: the Tide, a rash of ruthless ruffians that terrorize the town for their own amusement.

Do Park and Risan have what it takes to restore order to the city?

(Read “Psych Masters” for details)

*****


         Beyond the great bay dividing the city's upper and lower classes, in a dirty alleyway far from the arm of the law, another 4:00 A.M. scuffle was taking place. The sounds of crunching bone and the battering of skin against skin made for a symphony of violence that was unfortunately all too familiar of the denizens of this side of town. This was the Gallows, after all, a virtual dumping ground for poor people and the creeps that that fed upon them. And it was the personal playground of a violet-haired teen named Risan.

         Winding around from his spinning heel kick, Risan stared with satisfaction at the broken body of the Tide gang member he had just taken care of. With an almost giddy attitude, he slammed his elbow into the jaw of the ruffian approaching from behind, taking the moment to scan the alleyway for more action. His partner in chaos, the yellow-scarfed Park, was cleaning up well, trapping a punk's arm and working his face over with flying footwork. He needed no looking after, leaving Risan free to take the last Tidey on the menu.

         This Tidey, a bald, bulging behemoth he had learned was comically named Boo Boo, carried an ugly length of 2X4, his oversized mitts allowing him to wield the weapon one-handed. His hippo-like teeth were set in an awkward grimace, as if he wanted nothing more than to work his jaws on Risan's skull. "You're ripe pickin' for an ass kickin', shrimpo!" Boo Boo growled, pounding the object against his callused, open palm.

         Risan's response was an eager, almost hungry smile. "You'll be picking up your own ass. From off the ground."

         The mammoth man paid little heed to his opponent's taunt, getting right down to business and bringing back the 2X4 like a ogre's club. Risan was already moving forward by then, and met Boo Boo's swing with a pinpoint punch born from years of destructive behavior. CRRAACK! the plank of wood shattered, and slivers of wood drove into the Tidey's face like the stinging sparks of a fire. The pain from the splinters was the least of the man's worries, as he soon found himself himself not only weaponless, but the receiver of a high kick to the chin.

         Boo Boo had careened to the ground, and Risan was right on top of him, quite literally. Practically straddling the fallen man, he proceeded to break in his opponent's craggy face with a series of left and right hooks, the squishy smacking sounds like hammers against raw meat. Blood had started to flow from the bruised, batter skin, caking on Risan's worn knuckles like icing on the devil's birthday cake. And from the manic gleam in the boy's eyes, the pain was going to continued.

         Not bothering to hide his glowing zeal, Risan continued to wail on Boo Boo like he was a worn out sand bag at the gym. He relished in the sound of every blow he drove in, feeling his blood pump faster and faster at the glorious violence. Gritting his teeth in a heinous smile, he reared back and brought his fist up for a titanic blow.

         But before he could launch the punch, a small hand darted out and grabbed his wrist in a vice-like grip. With a start, Risan jerked around and found Park standing over him, a fierce look in his eyes. Risan stared cock-eyed at the boy for a moment, then turned his vision beyond him to view the devastation beyond him. All along the alleyway were the prone forms of Tideys, their bodies beaten but none as bad off as the broken battler beneath him.

         "That's enough," Park said, an angry glimmer in his eye.

*****


         When early dawn had arrived, Risan and Park were back at the shack they shared, the strife between them having escalated. "What did you think you were doing?" Park bit out, his soft voice sharpened for war. "That guy was barely conscious after the third blow! I know you like to fight, but this is just overkill!"

         "He had it coming!" Risan snapped back, clenching his fist and shaking it in the boy's direction. "Why should I hold back against those dirtbags!? They're just askin' for it."

         The boy's eyebrows remained furrowed, but some of the heat had eased out of them. "Maybe so, but it doesn't bring out anything but pain," he told him firmly, remaining steadfast by the stance he had chosen.

         Risan growled like an animal, and turned his head in disgust. Under his breath, he muttered his dissent with his roommate's opinion: "Sure makes me feel a lot better..."

         "I'm tired of these guys, Risan," Park was saying, missing his friend's covert grumbling. "Tired of trying to protect one kid from the Tide, only to have three more with broken arms that I couldn't reach in time. I want them out of our hair, out of everyone's hair, for good. I've been thinking, and I think I know how to do it."

         The violet-haired youth stared incredulously at the younger boy, who was now pacing around the shack like a military commander. "Wipe out the Tide?" he asked.

         "We can do it," Park responded, nodding briefly. "They're all working under their leader, Gauge, right? If I'm right, we can storm their hideout and take down Gauge, and the rest of the Tide will split into weak, easy to take out factions. We'll bring in Chill and Slick for good measure. One more battle, and our lives will be a lot easier."

         Risan practically guffawed. "You really think you can wipe out the meanest gang on the streets just like that?" he argued sardonically, a slight sneer on his face.

         Park was uncowed. "They're nothing without a leader to keep them together," he insisted, turning to face the other boy. "If we can just push it this one time, we'll be free from the need to patrol the street looking for crimes and progress. We'll be able to do whatever we want."

         "No, you mean you'll be able to do whatever you want!" the violet-haired youth countered viciously, stepping up to glare at Park. "Maybe I have something to say about it, you think of that?"

         Park reared away from him like he was some sort of space alien. "What?" he said, his irises goggling uncertainly for a moment. Then, a spark of realization went alight within his eyes, and they narrowed. "No wait, I get it," he said quietly, lowering his head so that his red, spiky bangs covered half his face. An ugly little smile formed on his lips, and a silent, mirthless chuckle rumbled from them. "You don't want the gang's destruction messing with your day-to-day brawls. You want to keep fighting as a lifestyle, beating up on a never-ending parade of Tideys until your fingers break off." He raised his head, revealing green eyes flashing with rage. "What the hell makes you any better than them!?" he hollered out, taking a violent stance.

         Risan jumped forward and grabbed the boy by the front of his shirt. "You bastard!!" he screamed, spit flying from his smacking jaws. "I dragged you out of the hell you were in and put you together PIECE by PIECE! And THIS is how you repay me!?"

         Park returned his malevolent manner by clutching Risan's own shirt, pulling him forward until they were eye to eye and nose to nose. They stared into each other's eyes with animosity, the tension palpable like rotten vegetables in a garbage disposal.

         Then, Park's eyebrows suddenly raised, a hint of shame forming in his face. "No, I won't do this," he said, disengaging himself from his furious friend and stepping back. "I won't fight you." Turning heel, he headed for the wooden door with rotting hinges, tossing his scarf over his shoulder in preparation for a brief exodus. He pushed the door open and, when he was in the threshold between the shack and the rest of the world, turned back to Risan with vibrant eyes.

         "You were the one who taught me how to fight back against the world, Risan," he told him loudly, resting his hand against the doorway. "But I can't just use that power for nothing!"

         When Park stormed out of the shack, Risan found his anger filling the void the boy had left in his wake. "Fine, who needs you?!" he screamed out at the departed figure, feeling the veins in his head starting to pound. "Don't even bother coming back to this...this broken-down hell of a house!!" His fist slammed against the wall, actually managing to dent the wooden support that stabilized the house. Still not satisfied, he then spun a clumsy kick at a metal fold-out chair that he and Park had found in a dump one day, hoping for some release.

         Unfortunately, what he got was a pounding pain in his small toe, thanks to his not wearing shoes in the shack. "AAARRRGGGHHH!!!" he screamed out, clenching his teeth and rubbing his injured toe on the ratty patch of carpet in the corner. He took a brief look at his foot, and found it to be bleeding rather profusely. "Now I need freakin' peroxide," he groaned, his face still tensing with the pain. "Dammit, I hate peroxide!"

*****


         Morvaria City's infamous Gallows district wasn't populated by people rich enough to own vehicles, leaving the paved roads free for pedestrians to walk. Since the sidewalk was cracked, and since this side of the town was written off by the police, it remained Risan's preferred alternative to obeying an uninforced law. It was easier on his bandaged toe as well, which still felt sore and cold from the peroxide. He hated peroxide.

         As he walked through the wispy morning air, Risan's eyes moved to the desecrated buildings on either side, peeking into the sometimes-shattered windows. There were a lot of old, abandoned warehouses to be seen on this road, their oil drums and boxes useful only as projectile weapons in street fights. Yes, he had been to the green one next to the broken automobile garage not long ago; the tires were flat, but could also flatten foes. Even Park utilized them, sometimes ensnaring a Tidey like a duck caught in a six-pack ring.

         He growled, kicking a chunk of gravel to the side of street, where it rolled into a crack that led into the sewer. His friendship with Park had steadily worn away at his machismo, and he was left with the unenjoyable sensation of feeling like a jerk. Deep down, he knew that he would be meeting up with his pal again, despite yelling at him to clear out. He hoped he wouldn't have to end up apologizing for the whole affair.

         What did he know? Risan felt his sour disposition return, clogging his heart up with heat. Park was just as selfish as he was. That guy just wanted to be finished with the Tide so he could be free of this town, and look for greener pastures. Not a bad idea, since his old unrequited crush still lived in this town, and made a habit of putting her nose where it didn't belong.

         The anger flowed out of his features, leaving an expression that could be called contemplative. Park was in a bad way when he had first arrived in the Gallows; borderline suicidal, by all evidence. And even if he wasn't going to commit physical suicide, he was quite adept at committing mental suicide. He knew, ever since that day.

*****


         "Let me go, Risan!" Park cried out, straining against the older teen's vice-like grip. "I have to get to Joy...babysit her little sister."

         "Like hell," Risan sneered, calmly letting the boy do all the work while not letting him have a chance at escaping the shack.

         "I can't stay here, you!" Park screamed, his emotional stability breaking up. "I have...responsibilities...to people."

         "Going to go back to a girl who doesn't love you?" the violet-haired youth snapped, practically hissing into his captive's ear. "To a girl who thinks you're an adorable little child?" Risan could remember the sarcasm resting against the back of his throat like a bullet in front of a hammer. "Why don't you just go along with her and that jackass boyfriend of hers to the movies, watch then make out for a few hours. Yeah, that'll make you feel good."

         That statement must've struck a chord of truth within Park, for he stopped struggling and froze up like a dying deer. Risan took the opportunity to whirl the boy around and slam a fist into his stomach, making him buckle up in a twisted pose. Park fell forward a moment later, right into the teen's chest. Risan kept one hand on his shoulder to keep him from sliding down and hitting the floor; coming from him, it was a rather comforting gesture.

         "Can't even take care of yourself," he said, closing his eyes solemnly. "Looks like I have to fix you up."

         The air was quiet for a time. When Park next spoke, his voice sounded weak and tired."But Risan, aren't we enemies?" he asked him, as his body slowly relaxed. "You used to pick fights with me when I was biking from school."

         "Forget about it," Risan answered shortly, before he could think about his own sudden change from tormentor-to-savior. "I'll keep you from being that wimp people want to nail you as. Risan Farron's got your back."


*****


         He smiled ruefully. It was his first experience in dropping his angry wolf pride; Risan wanted to become like a big brother to Park, someone that Park could rely on that wasn't some blonde bimbo. But even that didn't turn out like planned, and the two ended up becoming equal partners in their new chaotic life. A brother for a brother, that was how it went.

         Heh, why the heck's Park worried about being weak if he can boss me around?

         The distinct sound of wheels against gravel shook Risan out of his reverie, and he looked from side to side to reassess his situation. He had actually wandered a bit out of the jurisdiction considered to be the Gallows, and was now in a lower-class, but not dirt poor, section of Morvaria City, where the skate park Aeriel Alley was located. The buildings here were mostly brick and wood, with the downtown skyscrapers seen only distantly beyond the small alleyways filled with trash and recycling bins. There was a lack of traffic here too, though this was mostly due to the time of day, and that this part of the city was more suitable for walking.

         Or skateboards, as it may be. There weren't many teenagers out now, but Risan could see one girl trying out the rails that led up to a small skate shop overlooking the parking lot meant for the grocer two stores down. This short-haired brunette used the bottom of her board to traverse the railing, miraculously managing to leap at the end and make it to the next railing to continue grinding. She was smooth and solid in her executions of these techniques that she made look like child's play.

         At least, until she neared the end of the last rail. A small blob of thickly applied paint bulged from the end of the railing, and it caught the board and sent it toppling away. The girl riding the board was thrown off as if catapulted, flying in the air with arms desperately trying to grab onto something solid. She met the pavement in a splayed out, twitching heap, her baseball cap now twirling with momentum on a fire hydrant.

         Risan's eyebrow raised at the sight; he had taken his share of bumps and bruises, but this had to hurt. On sudden impulse, he walked over to the girl and extended his hand. The girl stared up at him for a brief moment, then looked away with an ashamed expression. "Not one of my better moments, huh Risan?" she finally said, accepting his hand and letting him haul her upright.

         Risan quickly put him hands in his pocket, adopting his sturdiest tough-guy posture. "Yeah, so you're still training for the skate meet, huh Chill?" he asked, his attitude an odd amalgam between gruff and friendly.

         "It's ten days away, with that dipwad Slick on top of the racket." she replied, her expression souring a mite. "I just gotta kick his ass for calling me 'tomboy tuffs.'"

         "Count me for seconds," he said, with a devilish show of teeth between his lips. He almost laughed at what a sop he was being with her. It was actually a bit funny, since Chill was originally more Park's friend than his, but they had managed to bond over a few things anyway. One of these things being their mutual irritance at Slick, a friend of Park's whom Risan did not take a liking to.

         There was one other thing the two of them had to bond over, which came to light as soon as Chill brought up her fists. "I need a little variety after all this shreddin'." she said, smiling from the corner of her mouth. "'Little round before breakfast?"

         Risan looked at her. "Didn't the pavement already kick your ass?" he reminded her, lightly motioning to the red scrapes left over from her rendezvous with the hard asphalt.

         "Bleh, I can take little nicks like these no problem," she said, brushing off some loose gravel from her clothing. Her expression took a turn for the devious. "Unless you're worried about getting thrashed by a girl?" she taunted, getting up in his face close enough to feel her breath.

         BWAK! Chill was sent flying by a hard fist planted straight into her nose, and she skid across the concrete like a runaway trolley. She shakily propped herself up on her palms, looking like she was three days into a sinus infection. Risan stood over her prone form, his body curling up into his custom fighting stance. "'Ain't helpin' you up from that one," he told her smugly, gray eyes narrowing in anticipation of the coming chaos.

         Chill grinned, coming up in a rough crouch similar to that of a track runner. "Wouldn't wantcha to," she hissed through clenched teeth, and she dove at him.

         As Risan deferred the girl's attack with his block, he felt the blood in his head enlightening his senses. His mind flashed images of a previous fight, superimposed over his battle with Chill. They were of a young man struggling with his shame and anger, a desperation to win above all else. A personification of pride in a teen of fifteen.

*****


         Park's shoulder blades slammed against the crumbling brick of the corner convenience store, actually knocking some of the loose clay onto the concrete. He slid down the wall a bit, but clawed at the jutting brick behind him and propped himself back up. His body was rigid with tension, his green eyes wild with an animal rage. Risan quite liked his fights that way.

         Blocking the way to their home, the rowdy youth clenched his fists hard enough for his nails to bite into his palms. "This okay with you, Park?!" Risan hollered, readjusting his stance in his fury. "You like taking the high road now?" He growled. "You weakling!"

         Park's teeth gnashed together, a million retorts flashing in his eyes before he apparently settled on the one with the most zing. "You...I'll kill you, Risan!" he bit out, and sprang off the wall in a killer's staggering gait.

         Between the two teens, Risan supposed people thought Park the more easygoing by default. They couldn't be more wrong. People like Park, who were misjudged and taken advantage of for their kindness and small size, they had a lot more malice burning beneath their skin than someone like him. By far, they were some of the angriest people around.

         Park flew in with a right hook so fast that it grazed Risan's nose even as he turned to dodge. He scrambled to the defense, only to have his jaw shut by a flying high kick. Landing back on the ground in an albatross' descent, Park pushed out a series of face jabs. Risan managed to ward off the blows, his teeth grinding together as he faced some of the fastest, most persistence punches he had ever seen.

         Risan launched a pair of low kicks, the second of which caught Park in the gut and sent him back a few steps. Gagging a bit on his saliva, Park stumbled onto the defense, as his opponent moved in for a follow up flurry. Park was not to be denied, however, and he knocked aside Risan's punch with much intolerance. With his eyes flashing like radiation, he drove his fist into Risan's cheek, sending a rush of blood swirling through the teen's mouth.

         Risan and Park scrambled like mad at the street corner, their fists and feet a tangle of vipers twisting over each other for dominance. Park's momentary advantage was reduced as Risan poured his own rage into the fight, forcing his fists through Park's defenses as if through a sieve. And all the while, Park continued to go after Risan. "I'm not WEAK!!!" he roared, the light tenor of his voice transforming into a rabid snarl.

         Risan lost balance for a moment as he overthrew a punch in a moment of desperation. Park jumped on this mistake to dart behind him, locking the older boy's arm behind his back. With his opponent subdued, he slammed his arm against the back of Risan's head over and over, and Risan could see his own thoughts splattered like grits before his vision. With a herculean effort, Risan managed to get a hold of the boy and heave him over the shoulder into the side of the dumpster, making a indention as large as his head.

         Park slowly stumbled onto his feet, swaying like a drunk on an all-nighter. Risan himself was also unsteady, grabbing his head as it shook with the repeated trauma Park had inflicted upon it.

         Risan turned to Park, and smiled crookedly. "Good fight, huh?" he commented.

         "Y-yeah," Park agreed, coughing a few times as he worked his jaw around.

         "Wanna go grab a beer inside?" Risan asked, motioning to the store he was leaning against. "I picked up a few bucks lugging boxes."

         "Beer tastes like urine," the boy responded, grinning back. "I'll take soda."

         Risan goggled at this uncharacteristic response for a moment. Then, he started howling with laughter, clenching his teeth through the hissing pain that followed his mirth.


*****


         "You horrible young man!" the old woman was currently yelling at him, shaking her cane like a police baton. "How dare you pick on that poor, defenseless girl!"

         "Hey, she was askin' for it!" he shouted back, pointing at his defeated opponent. "I'm an equal opportunity asskicker!"

         From her position on the ground, Chill raised a thumbs-up in agreement. Then, her arm fell limp onto the gravel as she tried to conserve her strength.

         The crone continued to harp at him, and started flapping her arms like a seagull. "Crap, she's gonna whine to the cops," Risan realized, bending over to scoop Chill up. "C'mon, let's scram."

         Together, the two stumbled away from the skate shop, with Risan propping up the girl under her arm. As if by instinct, they headed in the general direction of the Gallows, in an unspoken agreement that they would hang out at either her side of town or his. Chill may have lost this fight, but she had enough fight in her for the Tide to leave well enough alone, so there was no danger for her there. Risan appreciated a girl that could roll with the punches.

         "You've gotten some grit, girl," Risan said, giving her a winsome smile. "Not quite up to my skill level, but you can hang with us anytime."

         "Feh, you and Park are the only guys that give me that kind of attention," Chill groused, with a trace of bitterness.

         "It's just the hair," he replied, motioning to her short flippy cut. "If you grew it out, you'd look like every other uptown bimbo."

         "Hey, you gotta problem with my hair, frizz-head?" she rejoined, giving him a blunted glare.

         "Chill, I'm just sayin'." Risan shrugged his shoulders. Then, his eyebrow twitched. "Hey, what's your real name, anyway?" he asked.

         "It's Jill." A light blush came to her cheeks. "Not exactly the right moniker to build your extreme sports career off of."

         By this time, Chill had regained enough stamina to walk on her own, and she limped a few steps ahead of Risan. Her eyes flicked about, shifting periodically to the east end of the Gallows. "Hey, Risan, I gotta split," Chill said, making as if to take off. "There's this guy around Scorpion Street I'm lookin' after. Aren't you and Park supposed to be making your street fighting rounds?"

         "Ain't going back to that." Risan shook his head. "Park went nuts on me over something about that, so I'm gonna wait 'till this blows over."

         "That's weird." Chill raised an eyebrow. "He's usually so cool. What happened?"

         "Forget about it." He waved her off, staring straight ahead. "I'll hang with you for awhile. Need to pick up a lager around Scorpion Street anyway. Cool my head off."

         Chill tossed him a quick 'whatever' grimace, but waited for him to catch up. They strode side by side through a few blocks not currently controlled by the Tide, where young mothers made the effort to sweep their walks and tend to hand-spun flower vases. Risan had cleared the gangs out of here with Park not too long ago, and he was impressed with how even the cracked sidewalks seemed to sparkle. It wasn't like Joy McLanus' side of town, but it had life, and that was important, too.

         They made it to Scorpion Street in six minutes, the Mega Drunk mascot looming over the liquor store as the block's sole landmark. There were also a couple of closed storefronts; a bookstore and a barber shop that couldn't make it. In front of the bookstore was an old black gentleman with well-worn clothes, but a distinguished beard. He was blind, with a cane and a pair of dark shades that somehow gave him a sly, jazz-singer look.

         Chill went straight for the old man at a run, leaving Risan to trail his eyes over the liquor store. "Yo, ol' man!" she cried out. "It's me!"

         "Well, if it ain't Jill from Aeriel Alley!" the old man smiled, revealing a set of sparkling whites. "Got an exploit to share that'll match my own?"

         "Just that orange you wanted," she answered, handing him the object in question. "Y'know, you've could've asked for a lot more."

         "You know I'm a man of simple tastes, Jill," he assured her, taking the orange from her palm like it was a dish of the finest caviar. "As long as I got my Vitamin C, all's right in the world."

         "Risan, this is Ol' Man Harley," Chill said, sitting down between him and some boxes. "He owned the bookstore here before he lost his sight and the town went to hell. The Tide recently occupied the territory where he lives, so I've been watchin' out for him until you guys push 'em back again."

         "Hey, now, are you that young fella cleanin' up our lil' side of town?" He turned to the sound of Risan's voice. "Always happy to hear about a little community service!" The old man pulled an opaque bottle seemingly out of nowhere. "Hey, come settle back with a fine brew!" he offered. "It's on me!"

         Risan was wondering whether Harley knew he was under the drinking age or not. At the moment, it felt stupid to reject the geezer's gift out of hand, right when he was about to pick up a bottle anyway. "Thanks, old man," he said, and a smile came to his face. It was a real high quality lager too, nothing like the swill he usually chugged down.

         "Y'know, this guy used to be loaded," Chill said, leaning her hand on Harley's shoulder. "He had a big house, a staff to clean it, all that junk. I don't know how you go to 'this' from 'that.'"

         "Heck, I still get by, and I got enough pocket change left over to enjoy the finer pleasures in life." Harley tossed the orange in the air, then set about peeling it. "You'll see me back on my feet some day or 'nother. As long as folks like you are keepin' the dragons at bay."

         Risan lowered his head, the lager in his hand suddenly feeling cold in his hands. "Yeah, sure," he humored the old man, and settled down next to him to drink his beer.

         He didn't have the heart to tell him it wasn't like that at all. Sure, protecting the weak was a bit of a perk, but he was in this for the sheer adrenaline rush, and little else. There was nothing better than smashing up some lowlife trash, but there was also nothing really noble about it. He took a swig from his lager, trying to drown out the intrusive thoughts.

*****


         The flickering streetlamp lurked over the basketball court, sending flashes of humanity among the faces of the shadow demons that had congregated there. The goalpost was twisted like a tree in the wind, and the asphalt was lined with a spider's web of cracks. This lot was unclaimed territory that the gangs fought over week after week. Today, it would be a sanctuary for Park's baptism by fire.

         There was a count of six hardened Tideys, their tide-dyed shirts underplaying their villainous intent. They were unarmed, but their lumpy arms packed with muscle ensured that their lack of weapons would be no hindrance for them. Park's opponent was a built man in his early twenties that stood well over six feet, with more tattoos than toes. He watched the boy like an insect in an apartment, waiting for that one moment when he could squash him down.

         "I don't think I can take this guy." Park floundered. "He's got me, I know it."

         "Shut up and listen," Risan hissed, taking him aside for a second. He moved in closer. "Look at that arrogant bozo," he spoke into the boy's ear, gripping his shoulder tightly. "He thinks he's gonna run all over you, but you won't let him. Because I taught you everything you need to know to take care of yourself. The only way to make your place in this world is by hurting other people."

         He pushed Park into the fray. "Get going!"

         As the battle began, the man wasted no time in aiming a punch at the boy's temple. Park's eyes widened for a moment, but he remembered his training and jerked back and away from his opponent's knuckles. He kept an even distance from the man, his arms whipping around to deflect the blows as if by instinct. Risan was content just to watch, folding his arms and smiling.

         As Risan predicted, Park's inner fire soon took over. The boy stopped dodging and met his opponent head on, turning aside his attacks and interjecting his own like a master debater. Park moved in with a little Ad Hominin, going straight for a personal assault on the body. With a fierce kyai, he jammed a tiger fist onto the Tidey's nose, smashing through cartilage and bone.

         The man was staggering, but still on his feet. Like a panther streaking in for the kill, Park preyed upon his weakness with a flurry of kicks that battered the body black and blue. He then moved in with an uppercut that laid the man out flat, leaving him scrambling back on his rear. Park readjusted his stance, preparing for another round of martial arts fury.

         Then he stopped. The man before him was still scooting away as if he were an anaconda, his bloody face frozen in fear. Park's face flashed with indecision, still swelling with adrenaline. Then his fist fell back to his side.

         "What are you doing, Park?!" Risan barked out at him. "Finish him!"

         Park took a slow breath to calm himself, then he closed his eyes. "No, the fight's over," he said. "Because I'm strong now."

         Park looked back at the Tideys, his features settling into a scowl. "You heard me," he asserted, motioning to his defeated opponent. "It's over and done, so take your friend and get lost." He waited a brief moment for a response, the other goons hesitating. "Unless you want to see what Risan has planned for you?" he added, jerking his head towards his ally.

         One of the smaller Tide members took the initiative, stepping forth to gather up his ally. He shot a murderous look at Park, who regarded it as he would an annoying fly. The other Tideys followed suits with a myriad of gestures and mumbled curses, but they were backing off. A few moments later, they had all departed, leaving the two teens to stare after their retreating forms.

         Risan looked at his friend, not knowing what to expect from him not. Park was still looking in the direction of the Tideys, his eyes cool and emotionless. In one swift motion, he whirled around and started walking off the basketball court. "Let's go pick up some hashbrowns at the diner," he said, tossing a smile over his shoulder. "I'm buying."

         The smile remained on his face a moment more. "Thanks, Risan," he told him, before turning his head and proceeding down the street.

         Risan watched him go for a moment, then turned his head toward the darkness that the Tide had retreated into. "Not a bad piece of work," he considered, gripping his chin. Then, he ran to catch up with Park.


*****


         "Bluugh!" Risan sputtered as he felt a crunchy substance lodge between his teeth. He reached into his mouth and pulled out the bug, now squashed and pourous. "What, did you leave it open all day, old man? he complained, as the old man regarded him with an empty stare. "There was a bee in it!"

         "Popped it open just five minutes ago, cuz," Harley eased, his hand patting around until he found the bee in Risan's hand. "People are putting flowers on their windows again, so y'all better get used to a few more bees hanging 'round!"

         He chuckled lightly. Risan looked at him for a moment wondering what the joke was, then sighed and resumed drinking his beer.

         "For a street fighter, you're real high-strung," Chill chuckled. "Fighting give you a sugar high or somethin'?"

         "Just need to let the alcohol set in," Risan growled, turned away with a harumph.

         She continued smiling. "I'm taking the ol' man to meet his jazz quartet downtown tonight," she told him. "It's pretty boss, and they're gonna let me play bass on one number. You wanna hang with us?"

         "Music soothes the soul, son," Harley philosophized, propping his cane up on the street.

         Risan averted his eyes again. He knew he was wasting time when he needed to settle that stupid fight with Park, but he was not looking forward to facing that smug, apple-pie face anytime soon.

         He settled on a compromise. "Fine, but I'm heading back around ten," he stated. "Park will probably sniff me out anyway. Guy's like my freakin' nanny or something."

         The old man nodded. "Family's an important thing," he said. "With Jill and my band-mates playin' my song, I have all I need."

         "Think so, huh?" Risan mumbled, his thoughts once again on his red-haired comrade.

         A glimmer of light shone in Risan's peripheral vision like a distant star, drawing his attention. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes recognized the incoming object's shape. "Down!!" he snapped, grabbing Chill and Harley's heads and shoving them face first into the ground. He took to the dirt as well, making himself as small a target as possible.

         Risan could hear the resonation of metal against meat inside his ears. He darted back up again, looking to see what had happened. Chill's eyes were frozen like little crystals in her head, the tears within providing them with a sea-salt shine. His mind was wracked with panic, but the telltale metallic smell told him that he was already too late.

         A throwing dart had embedded itself in the soft back of Harley's skull, blood dripping down his long hair like a vampire's curtains. His face was still planted in the ground, his body in an undignified pose. The old man was dead, just like that. One more causality of the Gallows.

         "Old man!!" Chill screamed, taking his limp form into her arms like a duffel bag. "Stay with me, old man! Oh, god! Godamnit!!" Hot tears streamed down her face.

         She crushed Harley to her chest, her eyes squeezing shut with pain and rage. Risan's eyes were wide open, though. He stared beyond the scene of tragedy towards the rooftop, where five figures loomed above the streets like gargoyles. Among the tide-dyed shirts, their was a young, dark-skinned youth, dressed in red with a battle axe strapped to his back. "Gauge!"

         "Hello, Risan," he greeted him, giving a little wave. "I wasn't expecting to run into you again so soon, but you always had a knack for getting involved in Tide business."

         Words failed Risan as he comprehended the killer above. "...WHY!?" he managed to get out, throwing the word out as violently as Gauge had thrown the dart.

         "I didn't care for the old man too much," Gauge responded conversationally with a roll of his hand. "He keeps cheering up everybody in our territory, when it's low morale that keeps everyone in line. And I sincerely hate jazz."

         He sneered, his unnaturally sharp canines glistening in the sun. "He was a relic from a bygone day," Gauge declared, pointing down at the old man's dead body. "The future is us! The Tide!"

         "YOU!!" Chill screamed. "He did NOTHING to you!!"

         "I don't know what the future holds," Risan's body coiled like a taut spring. "But I'll be damned if you're in it!!" And the teen street fighter rushed up the two boxes next to the bookstore like a staircase, and leapt up at a crooked angle to grab the edge of the roof. In two seconds, he had hauled himself upright, with two Tideys breaking away from Gauge's group to gang up on the interloper. Risan met them halfway, his teeth glinting like the fangs of the wolf, and began the ballet of battle.

         With a rottweiler rage, Risan hurled punches at the Tideys, who turtled up in an attempt to hold steadfast. They broke out of their defensive position to try a few lunges, only to find the young man's whirling out a series of spin kicks, assailing them on what seemed every side. By this time, Chill had joined them on the rooftops, going straight for gang leader Gauge. The two remaining Tideys shot forward to intercept her, one of them bearing a lethal set of tonfas.

         Chill darted in and out of the Tidey's range, their attacks missing her by mere millimeters. Her fighting style was loud and extravagant, with movie-star kicks that nonetheless scored multiple hits. She had knocked the tonfas out of the man's hand, and span about on the ground to sweep them up for her own use. Her new nightsticks cracked upon their knuckles as they threw their punches, then slammed into chins and stomachs, bringing both Tideys to their knees.

         As the adrenaline continued to surge through his blood, Risan hoisted his chosen Tidey over his head and hurled him at the other, laying both of them out like a pile of rumpled clothes. Chill likewise finished off her guys with a spinning strike of her tonfas, knocking them senseless to either side. Both of them turned to the leader, ready for the face-down. Gauge looked at them with a wide smile, reaching for the battle axe strapped to his back.

         Together, they rushed the dark-skinned youth. Chill got in the first strike, ramming her tonfa straight for his head, which Gauge intersected with his axe. Risan had achieved enough momentum for a flying kick, but he ended up sailing straight past him as Gauge whirled away, landing in a heap near the edge of the building. With his yellow eyes focused on Chill yet still perceptive to Risan, Gauge span his axe all around to deflect her tonfas.

         Risan was rushing in again and, taking no need of Gauge's axe, began to pelt him with kicks. Gauge let out a giggle at this, as if they were, then swung his axe to clear the two teens out. Flying high in a backflip that carried him through the air like a jumping jack, he escaped their assault to balance on the edge of the building. He took up a defensive stance, thrusting his axe forward as a buffer.

         "I think I've gotten my fill for today," Gauge told the two of them. "Have to save my energy for the midnight rumble. I'll fight you, Park, and that alleycat some other time. Remember, the battle is forever!"

         He grinned, and leaned into a trust fall off the building. Risan and Chill were startled for a moment, then quickly ran in pursuit of him. But by the time they reached the edge of the roof, Gauge had disappeared from the street as if in a vanishing act, somehow slipping away among the rubble of the Gallows.

         Ol' Man Harley was still there, the blood from his wound making a puddle on the sidewalk under him.

*****


         "That bastard!!" Risan snarled, slamming his fist against the building hard enough to make his hand quake. "He did this just to continue the fight!"

         He looked down. "I did all this to continue the fight!" he admitted, his fingernails biting into his palms, leaving red intentions in his skin. "I could've stopped all this sooner, but...what have I done!? What am I!?"

         "Risan, it wasn't your fault," Chill reasoned with him, trying to stay calm even while holding her friend's dead body. "Gauge did this, the bastard."

         "And this beer tastes like unine!" he roared, tossing the beer bottle off into the street, where it shattered like all of Risan's pride and illusions.

         Chill looked down once more at Harley's body. "The Gallows rips souls apart," she murmured, her expression turning dark. "Even the most noble." Gingerly, she removed the shades that defined him to reveal eyes that were sightless in both life and death. She gripped the glasses in her hand like were Harley's own flesh and blood, as Risan stared into the dead man's face, wondering what those sightless eyes saw in him.

         Then, he knew. It was Park that Harley saw in Risan. Harley saw the crime fighting rounds that they pressed through daily, but that only Park had fully embraced. Park had learned to balance his selfishness with altruism, and had achieved a standard of right living that Risan did not have. And although Risan himself had taught him how to live, Park had managed to bolt on ahead again, leaving Risan in a cesspool of filth and decay.

         "My blood, sweat, and tears," he intoned, as Chill looked at him wearily. "Now, I'll shed them for you, old man."

*****


         Around 1:00 AM, the cries of violence ricocheted against the buildings like supersonic pinballs. Most of the Tide was off at the vacant rumbling with the rival gangs, but Gauge could always spare a few men to keep their favorite local street fighters on their toes. So Park was back in the alleyway again, facing off against a portion of the gang that was raring to take him down. But if his stance was any indication, he didn't feel like giving up the ghost anytime soon.

         Park regarded the remaining Tideys before him; two down, three to go. "Who's next?" he challenged them, his eyes darting back and forth between the two remaining challengers. "Let's end this quickly."

         "'Guess it's time I cut in, then," a sharp voice broke in from behind. Park turned briefly to find his old friend bringing up the rear, his face looming in shadows, but his eyes glinting with fury. "Risan!"

         The young fighter charged his enemies and clocked the first upside the head with a back spin kick. The next Tidey attempted a punch, but Risan twisted the arm at an ugly angle, and slammed his fist into the man's forehead, knocking him into a staggering stupor. He threw out a side kick at the last one rushing in, driving his foot into his stomach and sending him off to join his friends in the loser's circle. Risan swirled around once more to make sure they were all down, then relaxed his shoulders, dusting off imaginary dirt from his hands.

         "A bit faster this time, huh?" Park groused, a trace of their earlier argument on his tongue, but with no real anger. He then stopped as he got a closer look at his face. "Risan, what's up?" he asked, concern flashing across his features. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

         "Yeah, something like that." Risan quickly faced away from Park, trying to keep his friend from reading him too closely.

         He started pacing about, like he preparing himself for some assembly speech. "You know, these Tideys are really getting boring," Risan tossed behind him, making a lassaire-fare motion with his hand. "I almost don't know why I bother when they go down so easily." He looked over his shoulder at Park, the light from the streetlamp illuminating the side of his face. "Doing nothing but fighting's kinda dull, ain't it?" he asked of Park, his eyes glinting slightly.

         "Risan...?" Park's eyes widened in realization, as Risan walked fully into the light.

         "So how about we plan on taking out those assholes once and for all?" Risan continued, coming to him with a toothy grin and an outstretched hand. "Leave us more time to chill with Chill, and I guess what's-his-face, Slick the dipwad?"

         He gawked at the hand for a moment, but soon raised his head to look Risan in the face. "Yeah," Park agreed, and met his partner's determined smile with his own. "Let's kick their asses."

         They shook on it.
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