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“This place is musty as shit,” Denji griped, dragging his feet on the basement’s old, tan carpet. Several classmates followed in droves down the stairs.
“You got a somewhere else in mind to get your ass kicked?” retorted a man much older than those surrounding him.
“You fuckin’ wish,” the dirty blond shot back.
What began as a petty argument between a delinquent teen and a wannabe samurai had escalated into a full blown spectator sport. Gathered into the decrepit basement of the guy who insisted he be referred to as “Katana Man” were nine Fourth East students—all ready to watch these morons get violent.
“This should be good,” Haruka snarked. The headband-clad captain of the debate team had been looking forward to this. Who would win this fight had already become a hot topic within the club. Akoku, his stoic right hand man, simply nodded in agreement.
Their other shrill club member shuffled a bit and fiddled with the many hairpins lining the right side of his head. “Ah… I, uh, I hope they don’t hurt each other t-too badly.”
“Screw that! I wanna see blood!” another student—one of Denji’s closest friends—shouted out, with no regard for his safety, nor that of anyone else in the room. “I, Power, demand it!”
A hand placed on her shoulder to steady the raving menace. “Cut it out,” Aki warned, trying his best to serve as the authority figure in this shitshow. “I don’t want this getting too rough.”
“Why are you even here then, Topknot? ‘Tis the entire point to see fools beat the hell out of each other!”
He sighed. “Look, this whole thing is ridiculous, but I know they’re gonna do it no matter what I say. There should at least be someone around to supervise.”
“You still put in a bet though, didn’t you?” another girl, Asa, chimed in judgmentally.
“…Well. That’s neither here nor there.” His answer elicited a scoff from her.
Nobody really knew why this started, but it certainly didn’t matter. The dude who’d been held back from graduating nine times was gonna fight a kid who lets girls use him as a chair for money. That was a must-see event, and the betting pool was popping off.
Fami, the remaining attending member of the debate club, tapped Katana on the shoulder. “Katana. Are there snacks here?”
“Uh, yeah. Back upstairs. Help yourself,” he responded–an answer he’d soon regret giving. She gave her gratitude and backtracked up the stairs to ransack the kitchen.
Denji did a few light stretches before calling out Katana. “Alright, we doin’ this shit or what?”
Fourth East’s greatest failure complained back. “God damn, man. At least let me clear the furniture out of the way first.”
“Wouldn’t have to if ya didn’t make us fight in your mom’s basement.”
“It’s not my mom’s, douchebag. It’s my granddad’s,” Katana corrected, pushing the couch off to the side.
“Yeah, ‘cuz that’s way less sad.”
The verbal warfare continued back and forth for a tad longer while Katana cleared out enough space to form a suitable arena. Denji absolutely reveled in egging him on.
“F-final call for betting!” Nobana shouted weakly. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d been roped into being this dick-measuring contest’s bookie, but he was determined to fill the role.
“Ah, one moment little boy,” Power called out. “Allow me to place my wager.”
“L-little boy? I’m older than you…”
“Even if that is true, you are like a worm to me. Unhand the paper,” Power demanded. Nobana sheepishly submitted and gave her the betting sheet. Placing it on the nearby coffee table for support, she scribbled down a number and returned it to its stuttering owner.
Aki Hayakawa - ¥3700, Denji
Akoku - ¥15000 Katana Man
Asa - ¥2000 on Denji
Haruka - ¥7000 on Katana
Nobana - ¥3000 on Denji :)
Fami - all the food in katana’s home on denji
denji - ALL IN ON ME (¥1432)
POWAAA - 5000000¥ on sideburns guy
Nobana eyed the sheet and sighed. “Um, Power… th-there’s no way you have five million yen.”
She took great offense to the accusation. “You accuse me of lying?! How disgraceful.”
“Also, um, I don’t think you can… bet on yourself, Denji.”
“Hah? Why the hell not? I’m betting on myself. I’m not gonna throw it or nothin’.”
Asa took a glance at the sheet herself. “…Is ¥1432 seriously all the money you have?”
The human chair’s eyes shifted away. “Business has been slow lately,” he grumbled.
Nobana resigned himself to the harassment he was set to receive. “Well.. wh-whatever. I’m just gonna cross yours out, Power.”
“Huh?! That’s not fair!” Power frantically looked around at her classmates while pointing at the meek bookie. “He’s rigging the betting! Stop the steal! Stop the steal!” Nobana recoiled at the accusation.
“Knock it off already,” Haruka chastised. “I’m not gonna sit around and let you harass my fellow debate team members.”
“Perhaps you should debate acquiring some bitches, you slug. Hahaha!” Power began to laugh uncontrollably at her own joke, stunning Haruka into silence.
“Alright, enough talk.” Katana pounded his right fist into his open left hand. “Let’s get this shit over with.”
“Gladly,” Denji spat back.
“Okay, um, e-everyone clear some space!” Nobana squeaked out. He didn’t feel his shrieky voice was the best fit for a job like this, but nonetheless, the non-participants stepped out of the way, leaving plenty of room for the ensuing brawl. Fami had returned from upstairs by now with a full bag of potato chips, which she had intended to eat entirely by herself, had others not complained and forced her to share.
The combatants entered the “arena”, taking position on opposite sides of the room, and bitterly stared each other down.
“Worm!” Power singled out Nobana once again. “Provide a countdown!”
The sudden command shook him. “Ah! Uh, o-okay. Sure.”
“Th-three!”
“T-two!”
“Can you get through one number without stuttering? Jesus,” Denji mocked him.
“Ah–shut up! O-one! Go!”
It took no time at all after Nobana’s call was made for the fighters to steel themselves. Denji entered the battle guarded, fists in front of him to protect from any head-on attacks. Katana immediately got into a position of his own–he crouched down, one arm placed sideways across his torso, the other extended outward behind him. His head faced directly toward the floor.
“What is he doing…?” Aki asked.
“I don’t know, but it looks stupid,” Asa huffed.
Denji was similarly puzzled, before starting to laugh. “You think you’re an anime character or some shit?”
He’d dropped his defense while goading his opponent. Observing the opening, Katana made a high-speed dash across the room to sock Denji in the face. The ragged teen was caught completely off guard, nearly falling over seconds into the fight.
“Oh, shit. He’s fast,” Aki mumbled under his breath.
With his adversary on the back foot, Katana continued his onslaught. Denji instinctively raised his arms up to shield his face, only for Katana to simply redirect his blows to the chest.
“Why so quiet, huh?! You done talking shit?!” he fervently taunted.
“Fuck you, old prick!” Denji grabbed the incoming left hook, preventing its collision with his head, but wasn’t prepared for Katana’s remaining fist to pound into his stomach.
“Yes! Kill him, Sideburns! Prevail so I may swim in riches!” Power cheered from the sidelines.
“I, I already told you your bet doesn’t count…” Nobana exasperated.
“Nonsense! You will pay out even if it takes the entirety of your pathetic life!”
Katana’s last hit knocked the wind out of Denji, who spat out a copious amount of saliva on impact. He laid slumped over on the ground, desperately gasping for air.
“What a joke. You’re all bark, no bite.” Katana stared down at him, almost disappointed at how one-sided this ended up being.
“That was a blowout…” Akoku commented.
Haruka chuckled. “Yeah, what an embarrassment, honestly.”
“That’s… probably a good place to call it, yeah.” Aki looked away, trying to hide his frustration.
“N-no…” Denji barely wheezed out his objection.
“Well, looks like you can pay out—” Katana was interrupted by an excruciating pain between his legs.
“This…” Denji kicked at his family jewels. Isn’t…” Another kick. “OVER!” One more for good measure.
The crowd, boys in particular, gasped in horror as Katana fell to the ground, doubled over in pain.
“H-hey! That’s b-below the belt!” Nobana shouted.
“Fuck that, we’re running street rules!” Denji countered. Katana wailed as he received yet another shot to the nuts.
“Denji, stop!” Aki started walking toward the fray, before pausing upon seeing the vicious look in the assailant’s eyes.
“Take one more step and your balls are next, Topknot! I’m gonna make sure this piece of shit never has kids!” He delivered another hate-filled kick—one to make the greats of soccer proud.
”This is just painful to watch…” Asa disgustedly watched Denji’s assault, but much like witnessing a car crash, was unable to look away.
“M-mercy…” Katana choked out, writhing in agony.
“Give it a rest, Denji! You already got him!” Haruka yelled. The sympathy pains were getting to be too much.
“Oh yeah, sure. Just let me get in one more!” He wound up and delivered a final, masculinity-shattering strike to the grown man’s sack. He blacked out from the pain.
“Fucking hell, man. That was dirty.” It took years off Aki’s life to see someone so maliciously stripped of their manhood.
“His fault for not setting any rules.” Denji crossed his arms and eyed his opponent, slumped over on the rug beneath them.
“It seems Denji won. I’ll be collecting my reward now,” Fami noted as she exited the scene to collect every bit of food in Katana’s home, in the same vein as vikings reaping their spoils after slaughtering a village.
Save for some dust, the contents of the fridge, cabinets, and cupboards would all soon be tossed into the endless void that was her stomach. A small dish of chocolates was hers to devour. Not even the salt shaker survived, its contents dumped into a grocery bag—she kindly left the container itself, however. Taking that for herself would be rude.
The glutton smiled, feeling content with her successful wager. This amount of food would last hours, maybe even a day if she paced herself. How exciting.
Back in the basement, a smug look crept onto Power’s face. “Well! It certainly is excellent that I placed my bet so wisely!” She turned to Nobana. “Pony up, worm!”
“H-huh? What are you talking about? You bet on Katana…”
“Incorrect. Look once more.”
Aki Hayakawa - ¥3700, Denji
Akoku - ¥15000 Katana Man
Asa - ¥2000 on Denji
Haruka - ¥7000 on Katana
Nobana - ¥3000 on Denji :)
Fami - all the food in katana’s home on denji
denji - ALL IN ON ME (¥1432)
POWAAA - 50000000¥ on sideburns guy DENJI
“Wh—come on, Power! You ch-changed your bet when no one was looking! And… and I think you added another zero too…”
“I did no such thing! Denji is my buddy, I would never bet against him! Not in a million years.”
“It’s—it’s literally crossed out on the sheet! You can’t possibly expect me to p-pay this out anyway.”
“Denji! Make this boy pay me! Do to him what you did to Sideburns!” she ordered.
A fear unlike anything he’d ever experienced washed over Nobana. “Huh?! N-no, please don’t!”
“I’m not gonna do that, Power. Nobody believes you have fifty million yen, dumbass.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Hold your tongue, lest you are forced into a battle with a nutless opponent.”
Denji couldn’t help but laugh. “What, you think you’d win just ‘cuz you don’t have balls?”
“Guys, please don’t start…” Aki pleaded with them.
“Hush, Topknot! If the corrupt heads of this establishment refuse to give me my pay, then I shall at least earn the glory of victory!” She rushed to the makeshift arena, leaping over Katana’s limp body to tackle Denji to the ground.
The two wrestled, Power kicking and screaming to pin him down. To his credit, Denji kept it competitive despite already being injured—up until the demonic girl let loose her secret weapon—sinking her fangs into his arm.
“Agh, what the fuck?! Don’t bite me you psycho!”
“Shtreet rules, pisshant!” she raged back with a mouth full of limb, gnawing deep enough to draw blood.
“Huh… Do we get to bet on this too?” Asa asked, morbidly curious.
Said question left Aki dumbfounded. “Are you serious right now?”
“What? If they’re gonna do this either way we may as well be able to make some money off of it.”
“U-uh, I… I guess I don’t see why not?” Nobana replied.
Akoku spoke up, being the only one currently paying attention. “Looks like it’s already over.”
“Huh?”
Denji laid face down on the ground, with Power sat atop him reveling in her win. “I, Power, am the champion! ‘Twas a foregone conclusion! Bow down to me, peasants!” She raised her fist in the air and released the fiercest war cry she could muster.
“Get the fuck… off of me…” Denji sputtered out.
“No,” Power replied, knocking on his head. “Which of you fools shall fall to me next?”
“Pass,” Aki and Asa answered simultaneously.
“Yeah, no thanks,” Haruka added.
Akoku pondered her challenge for a moment before speaking. “I’m somewhat interested, but not right now, I have studying to do.”
“Nerd behavior, but fine. We shall all reconvene here next week!” Power declared.
Aki raised his eyebrows. “All?”
“Yes, all! I have formed a new club, and you have been drafted! The Glorious Power’s Basement Bloodbath Fight Club!”
“Really rolls off the tongue,” he remarked sarcastically. “I think I speak for everyone when I say we’re not interested.”
“Well, actually…” Asa quietly objected, “my rent is due soon. I could kinda use the money.”
Aki stared at Asa incredulously, her being the last person he expected to sign off on this. “You know you could just as easily lose money doing this, right?!”
Power stood up on Denji’s back and made him yelp. “Ignore him! 99% of gamblers quit just before they hit it big!”
“...I think I’ll chance it. I’m not making much otherwise.”
Nobana put on a feeble smile. “I k-kinda liked being the bookkeeper. I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”
“Eh, sure. I guess I’ll come back too,” Haruka threw in nonchalantly.
“Yes!” Power celebrated. “‘Tis decided then! Report back here next week!”
“There’s no way you just…” Aki sighed. “Oh, whatever, fuck it. I’ll be there.”
The newly crowned victor and club leader stood triumphantly, basking in her superiority over the incapacitated fools on the floor, smiling widely. “I shall swim in riches like the cartoon mallard.”