Chapter 51 - Junko ShirogetsuHollow NightAction had always been my favourite genre of movie. Even as a child, I had little tolerance for sappy love stories, or feel-good family adventures.

  What peaked my interest was conflict.

  I recalled the warm weekend afternoons spent sitting cross-legged, mesmerized by the martial splendour of the performers onscreen. Back when my dad – my actual dad – was around, he’d walk into the living room and grin at my wide-eyed enthusiasm.

  I always knew when he was home because of his cologne.

  Honeyed mandarin. A fragrance so unique and out of the box, you’d be hard pressed to find it sold anywhere, and believe me, I’ve looked.

  Even when I thought the excitement pying out in front of me was too good to turn away, just hearing the clunk of the front door opening in partnership with the scent of that orangey aroma, was all the excuse I’d need to get distracted.

  Sometimes he would trudge in, mouth stretching and tightening comically as if to make a show of the heavy-looking dull white grocery bags wrung over each of his fingers.

  “Hey, Lightning!” He’d cheer in my direction as I watched him from my perch.

  He would smile this grand, heroic smile as if to say ‘Life is beautiful, isn’t it?’, and I would wonder how painstakingly he went about his dental care to get teeth like his, white as polished pearls.

  After disappearing behind the kitchen corner and depositing the goods, he would stretch his arms while walking toward me. Every so often he would catch me in an ill-tempered mood, likely due to something happening at school or with Mizuko, so I would pretend I couldn’t see his shape moseying up to me out of the corner of my eye and keep my attention fixed on the screen.

  Otherwise, I’d run up to meet him halfway. But regardless of my moods, the story always ended the same way. I’d end up nestled against his chest, settled within his strong arms.

  The memory felt so distant, like a hit song I’d long forgotten the lyrics to, I questioned if I had even really lived it. I’ll admit it was a strange moment to be thinking about that faraway period of my life.

  Looking back, it might’ve been because I had finally gotten the chance to put all those fshy, extravagant manoeuvres I’d picked up from those flicks into action, but definitely not under the circumstances I desired.

  A boom like the cp of thunder ripped me from my reverie, and instinctively I performed a quickstep to the right as a powerful gust ripped past my left side, storming further down the upper level walkway.

  My heartbeat was making its best attempt at mimicking the rapid pitter-patter of my feet. I couldn’t run forever, I knew that much. But what good was a pn or strategy when I could barely even see my opponent long enough to form one?

  That’s generally where my head was at when, in the corner of my eye, I noticed a red rectangle cruising out into my view. It was emerging from a destroyed storefront window, fragments of shattered gss and various kids’ toys id like a minefield around the object.

  Though Zephyr’s attacks were missing their intended target, it seemed they were still leaving these pockets of destruction in their wake – a consequence it would soon pay dearly for.

  With a spark of inspiration hugging and lifting my heart, I lowered my stance and held out my hand until the smooth wooden texture of the red skateboard, a bck bolt of lightning painted menacingly on its underside, was caught in my vice grip.

  At first, I was apprehensive. It had been a few years since I’d st skated, and considering the stakes of the situation at hand, it wouldn’t have been an exaggeration to say my life depended on how quickly I picked the motions back up.

  Thankfully, your life being under threat tends to have a way of getting you in the zone.

  Like I said, I hadn't stepped on a skateboard in years, but as soon as my foot touched the deck, it felt like reuniting with an old friend.

  The weight of the board beneath me, the wheels rolling under my control—it was all so familiar, so natural. If this bozo wanted my life, I wasn’t about to make it easy for it.

  With a push, I was off, the board gliding smoothly across the polished tile floor of the mall. Zephyr’s first strike came fast—a sharp discharge of wind aimed right for me—but I kicked off the ground, flipping the board beneath me as I sailed over the crackling gust. I nded with a sharp click of the wheels, feeling myself grinning as I picked up speed.

  In the rapidly passing windows’ reflections I saw it lunging again, this time with a wide arc of his arm meant to catch me off guard. I crouched low, letting the board carry me into a grind along the edge of a nearby bench, the metal trucks sparking as they kissed the steel. The grind carried me out of his reach, and I leapt off the end, spinning in mid-air before nding back on the board in a perfect 180.

  "You're gonna have to do better than that!" My voice called out, heart racing with exhiration.

  Zephyr made a sound lime a snarl and sent another bst my way, but I kicked the tail of the board, unching myself up to an even higher level of the mall. I grabbed the edge of a balcony with one hand, flipping the board up with the other before dropping back down, catching it under my feet with seamless precision. The bst sailed harmlessly past, slicing at the ground where I’d just been.

  It came at me again, its speed increasing, but I was already in motion. I kicked the board into a manual, bancing on just the back wheels as I weaved through the remains of kiosks and overturned tables.

  His attacks were relentless, but I danced through them, spinning into a pop-shove-it to dodge a wide sweep, then sliding into a powerslide that sent me careening sideways just in time to avoid another sweeping strike.

  The mall was my pyground, and the board felt like an extension of myself.

  I hit a rail and ollied onto it, grinding down as Zephyr tried to follow, but it was too slow. I flipped off the rail and over a shattered dispy case, using the momentum to unch myself into the air, tucking my knees as I spun, nding in a perfect kickflip.

  Zephyr’s frustration was palpable, its attacks growing wilder, but I was already in its head. I saw it throw a final punch, the air crackling under the sheer force of the bst, but I slid under it, spinning the board in a perfect 360 as I zipped right under it, coming to a stop behind it.

  Breathing heavily, I kicked up the board, catching it in one hand as I spun to face it. “Come on,” I said, smirking. “I thought you were supposed to be fast.”

  Zephyr spun around, its frustration evident in the way its eyes sparked with fury. It was faster than I’d anticipated, but that didn’t matter—I’d already decided how this was going to end.

  I pushed off the ground again, gaining speed as I weaved through the debris. Zephyr followed, closing the distance with another fsh of lightning, but I was ready for it.

  I skated toward a nearby escator, its metal handrails gleaming under the mall's fluorescent lights, and with a quick hop, I jumped onto the rail, grinding up the incline with a burst of speed.

  As I reached the top, I unched myself off the rail, spinning the board beneath me as I flipped through the air. Zephyr charged at me, his fist pulsing with energy, but this time, I didn’t aim to avoid it.

  Instead, I twisted my body mid-air, positioning myself directly above it.

  With a quick flick of my ankle, I sent the skateboard rocketing downwards. The board struck Zephyr square in the chest, the force of the impact amplified by my momentum. Its eyes widened in shock as the air was knocked out of it, the flowing energy around its fist flickering out as he staggered backward.

  I nded smoothly on my feet, grabbing the board as it bounced off Zephyr and flew back toward me. The moment its guard was down, I spun on my heel and kicked the tail of the board with all the strength I could muster. The impact sent the board crashing into its midsection like a hammer, forcing it back even further.

  Zephyr stumbled, struggling to regain its bance, and that’s when I saw my opening.

  With a quick pivot, I dashed forward, closing the distance between us. Before he could react, I pnted the board against the ground and used it as a springboard, vaulting myself up. My knee collided with its jaw in a sharp, upward strike, sending it reeling back. But before he could go all the way back, I reached behind for my odachi’s handle, finding it and swinging it down viciously against its unsettlingly doughy body.

  He hit the ground hard, skidding across the polished floor. I nded a few feet away, my ōdachi sheathed and the board back in my hand as I stood over it, breathing heavily.

  It was clutching its side as it tried to push itself up, but I was already moving.

  With a final, determined step, I swung the board down like a hammer, aiming straight for its chest. The impact reverberated through the mall, and Zephyr let out a pained gasp as he colpsed back onto the ground, defeated.

  I flipped the surprisingly intact board one st time, catching it under my arm as I looked down at it. “I see now,” I said, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. “You never stood a chance at beating me to begin with.”

  I’d had my fun – it was time to seal the deal. Dropping the board on the floor, I reached for my ōdachi and stationed it over Zephyr’s rapidly heaving torso.

  Then the ground began to move, as though it were the first rumblings of an earthquake. Trashed benches, overturned cylindrical bins and other pieces of debris dispersed around the area began to judder. Drizzles of brown dust rained down steadily as the fluorescent lights continued to scintilte.

  “Arthur…” I found myself muttering, my chest aching with concern. I looked up upward in the direction I had fled from, and only now noticed I was on the complete other side of the shopping centre now.

  “Hang on, I’m on my – “

  My promises were interrupted by a sudden force smming me against a far wall, face-first, much to the displeasure of my nose. Still reeling from the pain, I peeled myself from the wall and slowly turned around.

  Zephyr was now levitating as before, only its shape was noticeably more battle-damaged and worn than previous. There was a hollow gash across its torso from where I sshed it, both its arms were shaking with exertion, and its head was tilted forward droopily as if on the verge of passing out.

  Its breath, if it was even accurate to call it that, was ragged, each inhale coming in short boured bursts. For a moment, it looked like he might finally stay down, its energy spent. But then something in the air changed—a subtle, eerie shift that sent a shiver down my spine.

  The lights above us flickered again, and the faintest breeze began to stir, swirling the debris on the ground in zy circles. I took a step back and felt the wall barricading me in, my instincts screaming that something was wrong.

  The breeze was growing stronger, the air thickening with static as small objects—shards of gss, loose papers, bits of metal—began to rise from the ground, circling slowly around Zephyr.

  Its body began to glow with a faint, greenish light, the static energy crackling around it as its power grew. The debris circling it sped up, forming a miniature cyclone that whipped around its figure, lifting it higher off the ground. My hair whipped around my face, and I could feel the pull of the vortex tugging at me, the sheer force of it unlike anything I’d felt before.

  The wind reached a fever pitch, the cyclone around him expanding, pulling in everything within its reach. I gripped my ōdachi tighter, my mind racing as I tried to figure out how to counter this.

  But before I could make a move, the cyclone exploded outward, filling the entire arena with a swirling, chaotic tempest that lifted everything off the ground.

  I pnted my feet, struggling to stay upright as the wind threatened to tear me off my feet. Zephyr’s figure was barely visible now, hidden within the eye of the storm, but I could still see the faint, ominous glow of his power intensifying.

  This was it. Its final, desperate move. And if I didn’t act fast with a st-ditch effort of my own, then I’d be seeing Arthur – and my dad - again a lot sooner than I’d bargained for.