>     "And now, in circle one we have…" the announcer started.  It 
>was two people he'd never heard of before.
>     *This tournament is getting kinda long…*
>     "Look, it's been nice talking, but I've gotta go…" he said to 
>Akisame, then jumped out of his seat and out of the tent before 
>Akisame could reply.
>     *Making too many 'friends' here, 'Danny'*
>     The last word in his thought was a mock.  He wasn't Danny.  
>Danny wouldn't have let Pat die.
>     He couldn't think about that now.  He shook his head clear and 
>ran for downtown.
>
>     "Are you sure this is what you're looking for?" the man behind 
>the counter asked.
>     "Yup…" he answered.  "How much?"
>     "How much ya got?"
>
>     "You want this into this?" the guy asked.
>     "Ya, but I want to do it…how much to use your equipment?"
>     "How much you got?"
>
>     "Oh, this is going to be hard to work with…are you sure you 
>don't want another material?" the man asked.
>     "Yes, I'm sure.  And I need it within the hour."
>     "In an hour!" the man shrieked.  "Ok, fine, but it'll cost 
>extra."
>     "No problem.  How much?"
>     "How much do you have?"
>
>     He was finally ready.  Ready for his next match.  Ready to face 
>someone without using those yo-yos.
>     *Just in case…*
>
>     "How much is this?" he asked.
>     "How long?"
>     "About ten meters."
>     "Ha!  How much you got?"
>
>     Finally.  After two hours he was ready.  Had his new 'item', 
>and upgraded his last.  On top of that, got his coat re-tailored.  
>He was finally ready for his next match.
>     "Now just to find out who I'm up against…" he muttered to 
>himself.
>
>     "Jackson.  Why don't we send the other to face him?" Sydney 
>asked.
>     "That's a good idea!  If this moxibustion thing is for real, 
>then he'll be no problem for the other.  He'll finally be out of our 
>hair…"
>     "But if we do that, and by some fluke he beats him, then all 
>our planing will be for nothing," Trent pointed out as he walked 
>through the door.
>     "I'm willing to take that chance."
>
>     "Are you going to challenge anyone?" the judge asked.
>     "Yes…"
>     "Who?"
>     "Noname-san…"
>
>     "And for our next fight, Noname-san and his challenger…um…" the 
>announcer started to mutter off as he read the card.  "Um…M2HK19…"  
>The announcer walked off the ring with a puzzled look on his face.
>     *Where is he?*
>     At center ring was a person dressed all in black, with a hood 
>covering his face, and gloves over his hands.
>
>     "Hope I'm not too late…" he said to himself as he walked up to 
>the tent.
>     "…next fight," he could hear the announcers say over the 
>speakers, "Noname-san and his challenger…um…"  The voice trailed 
>off.  "Um…M2HK19…"
>     He stopped walking.
>     "…"
>     He was about to say something, but fear paralyzed his voice.
>     He walked into the tent, then the ring.  In the ring was a man 
>about his height, wearing a black jumpsuit of sorts, a black mask, 
>black gloves and black shoes with black socks.  He couldn't see 
>anything but black on the man.  If it was a man.
>     *M2HK19…*
>     He couldn't remember hearing that specimen name before, but 
>there were lots of them that he didn't know.  It reminded him of 
>back in that ring.  Fighting those monsters…
>     Reminded him of Pat.
>     Before he knew what was happening, they were fighting.  He 
>could tell right away that the other…thing…wasn't there for the 
>tournament.  He was there to kill him.  He could see it in how the 
>other fought.  How the other stood.  How the other breathed.
>     "Dad sends his regards…" the thing said.  The first thing he'd 
>heard him say.  Then, while the thought still dwelled in his mind, a 
>foot came from almost nowhere and knocked him down.  It felt like 
>someone just nailed him with a sledgehammer, thanks to the 
>moxibustion weakness.
>     The other stood over him, his vision going.
>     "You're a fool to fight in such a weak state.  Pat would have 
>been…"
>     *Pat!*
>     Without a word, he rolled out of the way, jumped up, and pulled 
>out his new toy.  A two and a half foot sword.  The thing felt like 
>a ton, but if he was strong, it would have been like holding a tooth 
>pick.  He made it from the lightest material he could find on such 
>short notice.
>     "I'm really starting to not like you…" he said as he charged 
>forward with the sword.
>     *It'll most likely shatter on first contact, but at lest it'll 
>wound the…thing…*
>     The M2HK19 moved out of the way, but he was expecting that and 
>turned the angle of the blade and it cut into the things hip.  Sure 
>enough, the sword was in two, but blood was dripping on the floor.
>     "That's nice…" the thing said, feeling his hip.  "Before I kill 
>you now, I just want to show you one thing…"
>     "What's that?" he asked, reaching into his belt to pull out his 
>other toy.
>     "This…" the thing said, showing him a handkerchief.  Pat's 
>handkerchief.  The one he put in her grave.
>     He was beyond anger now.  Pissed, mad, angry…all those where 
>understatements.  He wanted blood.
>     Rage filled his mind, and his mind filled his ears.  He 
>couldn't hear the crowds.  He couldn't hear the things mocks.  He 
>could only hear how he wanted to rip the things heart out.  If it 
>had a heart.
>     He sent one sailing.  His modified yo-yo.  It was now made of a 
>harder plastic, and had metal tips.  On top of that, the string was 
>a wire.
>     The thing pushed the 'yo-yo' out of the way, but he could tell 
>it cut the thing.  In one move, he sent the other 'yo-yo' flying out 
>to the thing, and had it wrap around the thing's arm.
>The thing shrieked something out, but he couldn't hear.  It pulled 
>on the wire, and pulled him closer to the thing.
>     *Blood.  Ribs.  Death.  Hurt.  Heart.  Rip.  Die.*
>     He used the momentum from the pull and ran at the thing, 
>falling on it and knocking them both down.
>     *Strangle.*
>     He took the other 'yo-yo' and wrapped it around the things neck 
>and locked it off.  He could see blood oozing from where the wire 
>was.
>     The M2HK19 yelled something out, and grabbed at his neck, then 
>pulled out a knife and cut the wire.  In doing so, he also cut off 
>the mask.  Now he could see what this was…
>     *Oh shit…*
>     It was him.  In every sense of the word.  The face.  It was 
>his…and now that he thought about it, the thing also fought like 
>him…but one thing was out of place.  The thing had blue eyes.
>     He stared in disbelief…his mind leaving his ears.  Now he could 
>hear normally.
>     "I was just supposed to kill you, now I'll have to torture 
>you!" his other said, getting up and rushing toward him.
>     "No…" he said to himself as it came to him.  That's why he was 
>what he was.
>     *No, this can't be happening.  I can't be…*
>     The thought trailed off.  He just laid there and let the other 
>punch him.  It felt like his ribs were broken.  They probably were.  
>One punch hit him in the face, and he could feel the glasses break 
>and slide off his face.
>
>     *What the hell?*
>     He just punch the glasses off his other, and now he saw his 
>eyes.  Black.  Black pits.  There was no color.  Just black pits.  
>Suddenly, he saw his other grin, then clench his teeth.  Then he 
>felt his other kick him off.  He landed on the ground on his feet, 
>but his side hurt from the kick.
>     *I thought this guy was weak?*
>     His other ran at him.  As his other ran, he could see his left 
>eye twitch, then turn a different color.  Red.  Not a dull red, but 
>a bright red, with a certain tint to it.  It looked almost like 
>blood.  All he could see now was his other's eyes.  Death and blood. 
>  Black and red.  He was transfixed.  Then it hit him…his other's 
>left foot to his ribs…and he heard a crack.  Then his other was 
>picking him up.  Something he wasn't supposed to be able to do.  His 
>other was holding him by his neck.  His free hand was punching his 
>as hard as he could.  It felt like his back was breaking.  He hurt 
>all over.  He could taste blood in his mouth.
>     Then it came to him.  His other was trying to turn his bones to 
>pulp.
>     Before he could think anything else, he was dropped.
>
>     He didn't know what was happening.  He was pounding the pulp 
>out of…him…then his arm went weak and he dropped the thing.  His arm 
>felt like it was broken.  He dropped to the ground and clung onto 
>his arm.
>     His other was on the ground as well, holding his ribs.  Then he 
>noticed something.  His other was outside the ring.  Just before he 
>blacked out, he saw officials carry his other out of the tent, then 
>he smiled as some officials came to his side.  He guessed to see if 
>he was still alive.
>     The last thing he heard before he blacked out was an explosion.