#musicmasterscdone

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE -----

For those interested: I’ll be posting segments of my Music Masters series through this tumblr account.  Due to the nature of the story, song links will be linked where relevant.

Anyway, on with the story.

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WHITE KNUCKLE RIDE: PART ONE

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Music is truly a marvel of human invention.

In essence, it's nothing more the configuration of sounds in a set pattern, sometimes produced through our vocal cords, or often times through contraptions consisting of nothing more than strings and pieces of metal and wood.

But the beauty of music is not in how it's created, but in the inevitable result. It is a deliberate pattern of sounds that can be interpreted in an infinite number of ways, and loved by people all over the world, if not throughout the known universe.

Michael Kay is one of those people.

And this is his story, his white knuckle ride; in all it's long playing glory.

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It was in all likelihood very frustrating to be the neighbor of Colleen Kay.

As a relatively hard-working twenty-something, Colleen peacefully came and went from her Washington Heights apartment when work demanded her to do so. She waved at the neighbors when they waved first, usually acknowledged the postman, and put long and stressful hours at her nursing job. So one could only assume that in the hours she wasn't home, there should be nothing but peace and quiet.

If not for her afro-headed brother, of course.

It was just another typical afternoon for Michael Jason Kay, the spotlights in his room practically high-beams, and his music so loud that it seemed to warp the walls of his room with each bass strum.

Taller than most boys his age, Michael Kay flowed like water, his red sneakers burning up the dance floor with each step. As the pumping disco beat pulsed around him, he bounced back and forth with near perfect sync.

Though his room was small, it was big enough to fit the configuration of colored spot lights he had bought to emulate the heart of a disco dance floor. The room lit up with a turquoise glint, reflecting off his tan skin as his large orb of hair bobbed and his record player continued to play its soulful melody in the corner.

Eyes closed, lost in the music, Michael could feel words just beginning to escape his lips as he descended into boogie wonderland.

"Got canned heat in my heels tonig-"

Unfortunately for him, those next words never came. Instead, a voice seemed to pierce the wall of noise. A very familiar voice that he hated to hear on days like this.

"Michael! Can you please turn it down just a decibel, please?!"

Michael's eyes snapped open, and he felt his hips sway out of his control. They bounced against his dresser, nearly knocking over his prized lava lamp. Michael reached for it like a clumsy ape, catching it just in time and then proceeding to groan audibly as he pulled the needle off his vinyl copy of Synkronized.

Switching off his strobe lights, his face soured. Thanks to his always wonderful sister, the moment was gone.

Michael stepped out of his room, hands buried in his pockets as he whined.

"Oh come on, Colleen! That was my jam! I was in the moment, you know? The moment!"

His sister's tone of voice was nothing short of uninterested. She was clearly far more concerned with fixing her curly black hair in the mirror.

"Well that's too bad.", she began, as Michael plopped down on the couch nearby. "Because until you have enough money to go ahead and soundproof your room, there's only so many of your moments I can take. And let's not even get started on the other tenants."

Michael grinned to himself. "Oh come on. I don't play it that loud."

His toothy smile had close to no effect on his older sister. She simply picked up her work notepad from her desk before dropping it right on Michael's stomach.

"I'm not here to argue with you, little brother. Now I need you to run down to the store for me and grab what's on the list. And only what's on the list." she stated, as poured herself a glass of water from the tap. The heat still permeated in their cramped apartment in these final days of summer.

"What!? Why can't you just do it? You're supposed to be off today, and I have a dance routine to perfect." Michael protested.

Colleen simply put her hands up as she shook her head with frustration. "I had off. But Christy decided to get sick yet again, and we need the cash for next month. The least you can do for me is this one tiny task."

His sister reached for her beige coat, checking her baby blue scrubs in the mirror for stray stains. "I'm sure it'll only take you ten minutes, tops."

Michael let out a long sigh. He stuffed the note in his pocket, grumbling to himself as he headed for the front door.

"Yeah. Ten minutes I could be using practicing some killer moves..."

-----

If there was but one solace of having to walk the six blocks out to the grocery store, it was that Michael's music could always come with him. As a listener of the classics, having been bought a vinyl player by Uncle Rob on his seventh birthday, Michael Kay still understood the importance of modern music players. He grinned to himself as he shuffled through his various disco and funk songs, the mental play list already forming in his mind.

It was but two days away from the end of summer vacation, but the seasonal colors still prevailed over the New York City skyline. Michael was never one to control his urges, his feet shuffling slightly and his shoulders popping as he walked along the sidewalk to his destination. Even in the busy street, not a taxi cab driver cursing nor a dog barking would interrupt him from his self-imposed sound zone.

As Michael Kay walked, he was far too engrossed to pay attention to the Dust Bowl; an old skate park in the neighborhood always populated by teenagers, local or otherwise. His headphones offered privacy away from the city's ambiance, and thus he continued to grin to himself as he went along.

So naturally, he couldn't hear the sound of skateboard wheels grinding against asphalt, even as this one particular set skidded off the rail and to a halt as he passed by the fence separating the Dust Bowl from the sidewalk. A set of dark green eyes watched him from beneath a tangled mess of brown hair as he remained oblivious. She scanned him up and down; noting his huge black afro, his red sneakers, navy blue jeans and the piercing colors of his tie dye shirt, which was embedded with the design of a pitch black vinyl record.

Then all of sudden, she winced under her breath, instinctively holding her hands up to her ears as a jolt of sound broke her from her train of thought.

It wasn't his appearance that bothered her. He looked like a moron, for sure, but she could ignore that.

No, it was the infernal noise going through his ears. A high-pitched singer was like a wailing ghost invading her eardrums.

To most people, the music coming from someone's headphones over sixty feet away wouldn't be a bother. Because even at the loudest volume in a much closer proximity, Michael Kay's music would come off as an unintelligible mix of squeals and whistles.

And on top of that, the heavy, dark blue headphones guarding her ears would have guaranteed she wouldn't hear anything but hard guitar strums and bleating punk rock beats.

Except that this girl wasn't like most people. She grimaced through her green lipstick as she propped up her skateboard, the sound of his music grating at her ears painfully. It was like a stereo in the other room; she couldn't hear it perfectly, but she could still hear it.

She watched him like a hawk as he passed by, his music thankfully getting further and further away. After another few seconds, and he was out of sight, and the disco strings, now out of mind.

But the girl still spit out venom, as a few other skaters passed behind her, unaware of her plight.

"Oh great. The disco circus is in town."

-----

Michael Kay surveyed the covers in front of him, a gleam in his eyes as he grinned. Looped around his right wrist were Colleen's groceries. However, as she had time and time again before, she forgot how much the groceries actually cost.

And so with all the essentials covered, Michael decided that a little reward was in order. And thus, here he was, patrolling the aisles of Audio Empire, the most prolific music store in his immediate Washington Heights neighborhood.

Though he owned a great many albums on vinyl, Michael always had room in his tiny closet for one more. As he flipped through everything from The Whispers to Barry White to The Bee Gees, he wondered what particular artist tickled his fancy today. It didn't take him long to spot something of interest; a rare special edition cut of Parliament Gold. Michael grinned at his luck, inadvertently talking to himself as he hurried towards the cashier.

"Oh man, Rob would love this. I bet he memorized every single bass line."

The words were low, but a moment later than they were still enough to make the boy's expression slowly sink.

If there was one thing that made him more unhappy than being forced on grocery runs, it was remembering Rob. Michael looked back at the aisles as he stood in line, his mind visualizing his first trip here. It coalesced into a vivid memory, the image of his uncle with his pulled down cap and large bass guitar case on his back thrust into Michael's mind.

This was back when his hair was of normal length, and he still remembered the warmth of Rob's hand on his shoulder, and the joy in his eyes upon being bought a copy of The Jacksons' Destiny.  

This album had been Michael Kay's very first vinyl record, and it was this purchase that ignited in him a love of disco music that would follow him for the rest of his life.

Though these memories were happy, there still remained the painful fact of the present.

Michael Kay hadn't seen his uncle Rob since he was seven years old. Rob, and these memories of him, seemed like a world away.

"...Howdy, and welcome to Audio Empire! How can I help you today?"

Michael's mind was practically glazed over. He nearly jumped out of skin when the girl repeated herself.

The afro-headed boy blinked. In front of him, a blond cashier with distinctly lightning-shaped earrings and a blue checkered blazer smiled as politely as she could as she waited for him to respond. He laughed awkwardly, placing his chosen album on the counter.

"Oh! Most definitely! Just picking this up." he replied. The girl ringed in his purchase as he shook his mind out of past thoughts.

"That'll be a dollar fifty!" she exclaimed, her tone clearly excitable now. Michael handed over a crumpled dollar and change.

She waved as her register dinged. "Come back real soon!"

Michael largely ignored her upbeat attitude, but that didn't seem to affect her much, as she seemed just as eager when the next customer approached the counter behind him.

Michael stepped out of the automatic doors as he popped his headphones in. As the music overtook him, he felt the overwhelming need to move his body again. Canned Heat was calling to him, and he switched to the song.

"No interruptions this time." he said to himself, a dumb smile forming on his face as the song lit up his soul.

-----

The walk back was relatively short, but it gave Michael enough time to loop Canned Heat more than once. Though it was getting pretty windy, Michael didn't mind one bit. He was distracted again, moving to his own tune as he practically danced along the route back to the apartment.

Michael always thought that if John Travolta could make walking look funky, he could too. Of course, most of his fellow pedestrians probably wouldn't agree. Luckily, the streets were mostly empty this afternoon.

It had been a good half hour, but that was nowhere near enough time to make the girl at the Dust Bowl forgot about Michael's music. As he absentmindedly passed by the fence, the messy-haired skater girl was once again assaulted by a piercing interruption of foreign music. It was like another channel in her head, spilling into her punk rock song like a pool of sludge into clear water.

She sat up from the stone bench, ignoring the other skaters in the bowl below as her gaze focused on the afro-headed idiot from before.

"Not this junk again." she groaned. Nearby, a boy clad in shoulder length dreadlocks responded mockingly.

"What junk? You talking about the way you skate, girl?" he chortled, too busy laughing to himself to notice her approaching in his direction.

He barely had time to react as she stepped hard on his board, forcing its center of gravity upward and tossing him off completely. He tumbled down into the skate bowl, scratching himself a bit, but it didn't seem to phase the girl one bit.

"...maaan! It was a joke!" he exclaimed, pulling himself up and rubbing his now scratched arm as a few other skaters chuckled at his plight.

"You new here?" one of them said, being kind enough to help the boy up. "My advice to you: don't joke with Kim. I'm pretty sure her sense of humor is MIA."

The boy simply replied with a nervous smile, wondering what crawled up her spine to make her so irritable.

Meanwhile, Kim was now much closer to the fence separating the Dust Bowl from the sidewalk, watching the afro-headed boy twirl around a lamppost like a moron to the sound of his music.

Reaching into the trash nearby, she was able to find a serviceable soda can, and her expression softened with confidence. Focusing her eyes under her brown bangs, she waited for the perfect moment.

And it was just as Michael Kay began belting out lyrics that she found it. With a strong swing, the can went catapulting over the fence.

"I used to worry about the fut-"

The words were unable to fully escape his lips as the can made impact with the left side of his face. He yelped like a dog as he almost fell off balance, twirling awkwardly as he just barely regained his footing.

Kim laughed under her breath at the sight.

"Score."

Once he began to really feel the pain, Michael simply nursed his eye as he looked downward, picking up the stray red can and wondering what exactly had happened.

"Hey, what gives!?" he exclaimed, looking around but not immediately finding a culprit to blame. He was speaking loudly over his music, his eyes now focusing on he can in his hand as the pain in his eye started to subside.

"Going around throwing that...canned heat?"

The words sort of slipped out of his mouth. For a moment, he focused away from the pain, and from the can in his hand. When he really looked at, it reminded him of the same red-orange on the cover of the single version of Canned Heat. The album itself was pushed up against others back in his room closet.

But for some reason, the image really spoke to him this time. It coursed through his mind, enveloping his senses to the point where the imagery began to associate with sensation. In a way, it connected directly with the music playing in his ears.

And so, like he had done many times in the past, Michael focused on the music. He let his mind drift into another self-imposed sound zone. He could hear the strings, the vocals, the soft clanging of the drums. He listened to the bass, closing his eyes and imagining every strum going through every fiber of his being.

He saw heat. Or at least, a visual representation of heat. It manifested in his mind as the shimmering mirage one might seen in a desert, though it glowed with red-orange intensity like the art on the Canned Heat single.

Strangely though, it felt real. The shimmering heat became less like a dream and more like a sensation. Seconds later, and his right hand began to heat up.

The chorus blared with intensity. Michael opened his eyes as they echoed through his eardrums.

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Amazingly, the heat was now all too real.

Michael's expression went wide, as what was left of the can dripped down his palm like it had been melted by a death ray. His right hand was now sheathed in the same shimmering red-orange aura, which burned bright enough to make him squint. He wondered what he was seeing in front of him, or perhaps it was just that the can had just given him one hell of a concussion.

When he blinked, and the heat was still there, it was obvious this wasn't a hallucination.

And so, Michael reacted naturally.

"Oh man!" he cried out like a small child, shaking his hand wildly as if to remove the fiery aura, but to no avail. "Get it off! Get it off, get if off, get it off!"

The heat seemed stuck to him though, and grabbing onto the fence yielded nothing more than a loud sizzling as it began to melt away at the old metal. The remains of the can had been vaporized at this point.

Almost by instinct, Michael reached for his headphones with his non-burning hand, pulling one off and then the other as he continued to stare in disbelief. And in the instant the music was not playing in his ears, the shimmering heat aura seemed to fade away. Like someone pulling the plug on an amp, it was simply gone.

Michael did a double take, looking around. A few pedestrians stared at his general oddness, but it appeared that no else noticed the shimmering red-orange heat that enveloped his hand just moments before. And if they had noticed, neither people walking nor skaters nearby seemed to care. Michael felt beyond confused, but it was at this point that he finally noticed the girl through the fence, who glared at him in some sort of disbelief.

She was only somewhat surprised at this sudden display of power, oddly enough.

Their gazes met, and Michael took in her appearance. She had very messy, shoulder length brown hair. Her ensemble consisted of heavy green lipstick, a purple tank top, toxic green pants held up by a dull orange belt, and bulky combat boots. Despite her intimidating appearance, she was still a girl, that much was certain.

Spotting the curiosity in his eyes, Kim was quick to turn aside. She wanted nothing to do with him now that his detestable music was off for the time being.

And though she was some twenty feet away now, Michael could have sworn that he heard the few words she mumbled under her breath as she walked away.

"Another Music Master. Wonderful. Because that's exactly what this crummy neighborhood needed..."

Michael pressed himself up against the bars of the fence, but now Kim was clearly out of reach. The words echoed in his head. Had his hearing always been this good?

Music Master.

That had to be exactly what she said. Michael mouthed the same words, his mind beginning to fantasize a possible meaning. Did it have something to do with what had just happened?

He debated calling out to the girl, but judging by her attitude, it didn't seem worth it.

Michael turned away, now looking at his once prized music player with creeping apprehension.

There was a connection between what had happened and the song that had been playing in his ears, that much was for sure. Was it safe to even try listening to Canned Heat again? And if Michael did even dare to try it, what if something worse happened? He imagined bursting into flame.

Michael then gulped at a grim thought. One that was far worse than the prospect of his afro being lit up like an effigy.

Was it ever safe to listen to any of his music again?

Fast forward to the next track....

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

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RETURN OF THE SPACE COWBOY: PART SIX

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To any other person, today might seem like a perfect winter day.  There was but a light blanket of snow covering the streets and buildings in Akihabara, and even the normally noisy city ambiance was restrained in its intensity.

But all Arashi could focus on was that snide smirk on the face of the young man across from him.

They sat together by the window side in a small cafe, having ordered drinks and little else.  Arashi's remained untouched, but his companion had already taken a few greedy sips.

He was dressed in a nice chalk gray suit, hair slicked back and fingernails trimmed to perfection.  His aftershave reeked like gasoline, and despite all of his nice clothes, one could still see the fanged teeth of his dragon tattoo visible on the bare skin of his collar.

Arashi's eyes remained hidden as always under his sunglasses, and he held back any reaction as the man spoke.  From when he first arrived, he had originally introduced himself as Sho.

"This is a pretty nice neighborhood, you know?  I like it here.  I'd like to raise some kids here some day.  Get me a nice girl and have a nice little family." he remarked, looking on wistfully onto the street as people bustled on by.

Arashi said nothing in response.  Whatever games this man wanted to play, he would be no part of them.

Sho wasn't too fond of that, of course.  "Your sister is a nice girl.  I saw her once at the arcade.  She's really a looker.  She's, what, sixteen now?"

To Sho's surprise, Arashi didn't flinch.  He did, however, answer back.

"I'd like to think you called me here to discuss more than just my sister."

Sho smiled.  More than one of his teeth were clearly fake.  "Well, actually no.  God Symphony sent me to speak to you, that much is true, but Nami is very much the subject of today's discussion."

The man leaned in, clasping his fingers together.  There was something very uncomfortable about the knowing smile on his face.

"We'd like to offer her a job." he said, quite frankly.

"Really now?" Arashi replied, feigning just the slightest bit of interest, if it would end this infernal meeting any sooner.  Arashi had always despised these Yakuza and their underhanded dealings, but for them to be Music Masters as well just made the whole situation all the more unpleasant.

"Don't be so surprised.  I mean, let's face it, there's a lot of untapped potential there.  We could use a Music Master like her for some of the bigger stuff.  Plus, the big boss seems to be a fan of hers.  Says he goes to see her at Shori-Platinum once a month, at least."

Arashi's eyes narrowed under his sunglasses.  He understood the situation perfectly now.

"My sister in your organization?  Out of the question.  I'm sorry, but you've wasted your time."

Despite the sternness in Arashi's tone, Sho was far from finished.  "Oh come on.  The perks are pretty nice.  Good money, and just imagine the respect she'll get from those regular Yakuza who don't even know what we can do.  The job's to die for, I'll tell you."

By this point in time, Arashi was standing up.  He was in the process of counting bills in his pocket to pay for his drink when the man's tone changed from friendly to threatening.

"Did I forget to mention something?  I wanted to be respectful and come to you as a formality.  But if you're going to be like this, then I have no problem letting my men know that they can pick up Nami within the hour."

His snide grin was all too real for Arashi now.  Defensive words seemed stuck in his mind as the man continued.

"The bill's on me.  Sit back down and get comfortable." Sho assured, clearly in the position of power now.

Like a lapdog, Arashi slowly took a seat again.  Even with all the seething rage boiling inside him from this criminal's threats, Arashi's expression never changed in slightest.

"Now we're going to make this very simple." Sho explained, taking a wad of yen bills out of his pocket as he counted out the tab for their drinks.  "You're going to take me to your sister, and you're going to explain to her that God Symphony has offered her a wonderful position that you highly suggest she take.  She'll be going abroad for awhile per her assignment, but you'll see her again."

"And if I don't?" Arashi stated, not a hint of fear present in his tone of voice.

"Then I will personally find her, and I will personally drag her out of that arcade kicking and screaming.  And let me assure you that you won't see her again in this lifetime."

With that, the suit-wearing man put out for a handshake, basking in the power of his threat.

"Are we at an understanding, Nagataki-san?"

Many thoughts went through Arashi's head before he took the man's hand.

One thought surfaced among them as he replied.

"I'll take you to her."

Sho smiled, now clearly satisfied.

Arashi knew that he would have only one chance at this, lest Nami disappear from his life this very night.

-----

It was only a half-mile walk between the cafe and Shori-Platinum, but it felt like an eternity for Arashi.  Meanwhile Sho seemed to be talking with him as if they'd been friends for years.  Every laugh and joke were only made worse by the threat beneath them.  Still, it gave Arashi the time he needed to mentally plan out the situation.  Anything to stop this degenerate and his Ensemble from forcing his sister into their ranks.

They were only two blocks away when Arashi found the secluded alleyway he'd pictured in his mind while they shook his hands at the cafe.  As they passed it, the boy stumbled, pretending as if he dropped something on the ground.

"Excuse me.  Strong drink, I guess." he commented in his best joking tone.

His music player tumbled out of his jacket pocket, and through sleight of hand, Arashi subtly reached for it.  With his headphones already resting around his neck, he could have a song effect up in a few seconds.

His finger was just above the controls when he heard an audible click, and felt cold metal press against the side of his head.

"What, did you think I was born yesterday?  I might be a Music Master, but I haven't forgotten the good old-fashioned way of doing things." Sho declared, as he held his gun steadfast on the now kneeling Arashi.  "Or is this just your way of trying to say that you'd prefer to die in this alley, while your dear sister never finds out what happened to you?"

Arashi said nothing as the moment of tension held him in place.  He felt his own breath, heard each thump of his own heartbeat, but despite it all, he willed himself to remain calm.

Nearby, the sound of a dog barking distracted Sho for but a moment.  He turned his head expecting bystanders, and in that split-second, Arashi reacted.

There was a loud crack as the gun went off, but Arashi had been fast enough to knock Sho's arm aside and avoid the bullet by a hair.  He pushed forward with all his might, slamming Sho into the brick wall of the side street.  Having clicked play on his music player, all Arashi needed to do was hold him down for but a few seconds more.

Arashi felt a punch across his face, and a kick to his stomach, causing him to stagger back.  Sho's snide smile was now gone, replaced with an expression of pure rage as he closed his fists in preparation for a beating.

"Or maybe shooting you is too easy.   Well, I haven't gotten my hands dirty in awhile, so I'll make sure to take my time." he assured the Japanese teen through his teeth, not initially aware of the music now playing in the air.

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It was when he tried to take a step forward that he realized something was very wrong.  His arm wouldn't move from the wall, as is someone was physically holding him in place.  Sho tried his legs but they too were stuck, firmly grappled into position.

Arashi stood up, shooting back at Sho a cold stare, as the former Yakuza realized that large, red-fingered hands emerging from the wall itself were what was keeping him still.  They manifested from heart-shaped graffiti now sprayed all over the wall, and their grip was seemed unbreakable no matter how hard Sho struggled.

The music was so inconsequential to Arashi, and he addressed Sho with the same lack of emotion even as Concept of Love played in the air around them.

"I would tell you to inform God Symphony that my sister won't be accepting their offer, but I sense you won't be seeing them again in this lifetime." Arashi told him without mercy, mentally pushing his song effect to finish its deadly task.

Sho could only scream as he felt his entire body being pulled back into the street wall itself.  

There was no blood, as each of his particles seems to de-atomize as they were painfully integrated into the matter of the brick and mortar.  

Sho's hands grasped out weakly as the tiny graffiti-hearts with their red-fingered hands pulled him into the wall as if was the depths of hell.

But a few seconds later, and the wall itself now showed only an extravagant graffiti design of red hearts and arrows.  No sign of Sho remained beyond the silver handgun he'd left behind.

Holding it in right hand, Arashi held the piece of evidence forward.  Like urban gremlins, the red-fingered Sentonals grasped at the silver weapon, deconstructing it into the wall in the same manner as the human before.  

Satisfied now, Arashi stopped his music, and in response, the graffiti design disappeared.  Now all that remained was the blank alley wall that Sho had been standing in front of just moments before.

The transition from having just killed someone to thinking about his sister took but a second.

Nami was probably hungry by now, Arashi thought, from all her dancing at the arcade.

He would make tonight special for her.  A new ramen shop had just opened by Shori-Platinum, and knowing his sister's childhood love for the dish, he had a feeling she would be more than happy to try it out.

She wouldn't leave his side just yet, no matter who God Symphony sent.

-----

Arashi's eyes snapped open.

He remained sitting cross legged among the detritus of Semi-Sound, having been pondering their situation for almost an hour.

The memories of his encounter with Sho over a year ago never became any less real.  

The true reason behind their issues with God Symphony, the fact that their debt to them was Nami herself, was something that still remained with him and him alone to this day.  

And though God Symphony never did make the connection between Arashi and Sho's disappearance, they had only backed off so much from their pursuit of Nami.  With that old man appearing at the arcade so brazenly, Arashi knew it was only a matter of time before they made their move and took her by force if necessary.

And he could never tell Nami a word of this.  It would only cause her to act rashly and take her focus away from the task at hand.

Realizing his mind was wandering too long, Arashi physically shook himself.  Clearly the time for thoughts was over.  He lifted himself up, suddenly feeling somewhat naked without his sunglasses.

He mentally noted to pick up a replacement pair before he tracked down Nami to the nearby arcade.

With so few of them left in this country, it fortunately made it relatively easy to pin her down.

All Arashi could think of now was how he would reconcile with her.  Apologizing had never been his strong point, and right now he needed Nami to be in top form if they would have but a chance at tracking down Rob Prototype.

But as Arashi walked along, his foot nudged a seemingly innocuous instrument nearby.  There was a sound of strings being strummed as they popped against the ground, and Arashi's eyes now focused on the white bass guitar that laid on the floor beside him.

That would have been it, until he saw an unmistakable detail on its pristine white surface.  In the shape of a small thumb print, fresh blood stained the bass guitar's painted surface.

In the span of a few seconds, the entire fight with Rob Prototype and Michael seemed to playback in front of his eyes.  He remembered each movement from the afro-headed teen, and noted his dripping blood originating from both of Nami's previous attacks.  

Though he hadn't seen it, Arashi quickly inferred that even in his weakened state, Rob had attempted to use this very same bass guitar.  And in the chaos, some of Michael's blood had gotten onto him, leaving physical proof of his contact with the instrument.

And physical contact for a Synkronized Music Master meant everything.

But rather than destroy it, Arashi picked up the bass in his hands, marveling at the beauty in its craftsmanship.

Suddenly this guitar had become very important.  

Like some sort of glowing lure to a starving fish, it was something that even the stoic Rob would never be able to resist.

-----

Michael couldn't remember the last time he gotten so little sleep and felt this good.

For almost four hours he'd remained alone inside of the sound studio, practicing with a new song effect that he'd only decided on using out of desperation.

But there had been no fear in him when he'd Harmonized, and luckily it didn't kill him in the process.

When Michael finally emerged at 3 AM, there wasn't a single drop of sweat on his body despite the hours of dancing.  

Expecting to see Colleen waiting with her arms crossed as he entered the living room, Michael kept any grin or smile off his face in an attempt to seem somewhat regretful.  Anything to lessen the blow of having to explain everything.

Instead, Michael was met with the sight of his older sister fast asleep on the loveseat.  She looked peaceful and uncharacteristically relaxed.

Next to her, Rob was breathing normally, now sitting up and awake.

Michael was about to open his mouth and loudly exclaim his relief, when Rob quickly put a finger to his lips.  Thankfully, that was enough for his nephew to remain silent.

Motioning for his nephew to follow him, Rob walked with slow and clearly weak steps towards the soundproof studio.

When they were finally inside, and Rob clicked the door locked behind him, Michael's words seemed to come out all at once.

"Look Rob, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean any of it.  Please, please don't leave again.  Colleen's already going to ki-"

Rob put a hand over his mouth as quickly as he could, though it was a somewhat joking gesture.

"This place is only so soundproof, Michael.  You really want to wake her up already?" he said, before taking his hand away and brandishing a smile.

"Good point." Michael replied, now clearly more relaxed.  "You feeling any better?"

"Still alive, it seems.  You pulled some stunt back there." Rob commented, but Michael seemed steadfast in his defense of himself.

"Hey, if I could bamf my way out of there, I would have.  You're one amazing Music Master."

As Michael smiled, Rob began to stagger.  Grabbing onto his nephew, he found himself sliding down onto the polished wood floor to rest.  Michael knelt down as Rob took in each labored breath before finally speaking.

"Not without my bass.  That guitar...I've had it since before you were born."

Michael searched for any hint of reassurance on his uncle's face, but it was always hard to tell what he was thinking under his wide-brimmed cap.

"It can be replaced, right?  Maybe if we got to Audio Empire, we can fin-"

"No!  It can't be replaced!" Rob said as he cut him off.  "But the next best thing is waiting for me at Semi-Sound.  And the longer I spend away from it, the worse these spells are going to get.  When you're Synkronized, your body craves a musical connection.  If I can just get my hands on that white bass..."

Michael stood up quickly now, realizing the magnitude of the situation for once.  "Are you crazy?  You want to go back to the place where we both almost got killed?  Tell you what, why don't I text Calvin and tell him to go get the bass for you.  He'll answer once he figures out this is an emergency."

"You're the crazy one if you think I'm having any of your friends getting involved in my mistake.  Besides, I still have my cassette player.  I'll be fine." His uncle assured, putting his hand on Michael's shoulder as he began to stand up.

It seemed Rob was perfectly fine for the moment, his posture strong and confident.  Unfortunately, it only took a few seconds for his legs to begin to buckle and Michael was holding him up for support.

"This is all my fault, Michael." Rob admitted as the weight of the situation dawned upon him.  "It's my problem, and I need you here, so Colleen at least doesn't completely freak when she wakes up."

But his words just bounced off Michael.  His nephew looked back at him with confidence in his eyes.

"I haven't seen you for ten years, Rob.  You really think that I'm going to let you walk to your death, just like that?  I know everybody thinks I'm dumb, but I'm not that dumb."

Rob said nothing in response.  He had forgotten in all these years what it was like to have people by his side like this.  Faces like Seth and Lex felt like they belonged in another lifetime.

"You need backup, and you know it.  So either we go together, or I go by myself." Michael declared as his ultimatum, though he was only somewhat sure Rob had no way of stopping him in this state.

If Rob was debating this decision, then Michael sure couldn't tell.  

"I've been practicing all night with a new song.  I think I can take that girl now." the boy added.

Rob simply adjusted his cap as he forced himself to stand up straight.

"Then we should head out now.  It's our best bet at avoiding them." Rob suggested, much to Michael's happiness.  He grinned wide as he opened the door to the studio.

Michael was smart enough to whisper as they quietly checked for Colleen.  Thankfully, she was still fast asleep as before.

Words seemed to just roll out of Michael's mouth as they left through the lobby of Rob's building.  Talking had always been his stress reliever, and this situation was no different.

"Just wait until you see this new song.  Those two won't even see it coming."

Rob nodded as he allowed his nephew to continue, ignoring the pain of keeping his movements as consistent as possible.

"That girl was all talk anyway.  I mean, I didn't actually fight her now that I think about it, but really, just how bad can she be?"

-----

Nami shook her head as the competition walked away.  She could feel frustration building even more inside her even as she stared at her perfect score.  Her former opponent, meanwhile, hadn't even come close to an eighth of her points, and they weren't even playing on Heavy difficulty.  Worse yet, they didn't even look the least bit affected by their loss.  

This so-called St. Marks Place Arcade had turned out to be a nest of clowns.  In addition to the fakes that called themselves players, there were no people to cheer her on, nor were there any adoring fans to ask her for dance lessons or signatures on their body pillows.

As Nami sat down at a booth nearby, she buried her face in her arms.  Their poor excuse for ramen remained untouched once she'd taken the first sip.

All in all, this had been the worst day ever in quite some time.  As she looked up, she found herself actually missing her annoying spectators and fans.  She missed Japan, she missed the lights and sounds of Shori-Platinum, and she even missed her ungrateful brother.

But most of all, she missed winning.  To lose against Rob Prototype was a personal affront, and even here against these losers, victory felt beyond meaningless.

Nami hid her face back into her arms, silently praying that they had never taken this job in the first place.

An answer to her prayer came from across the table, from a voice she knew better than anyone else's.

"All is not yet lost." Arashi said in Japanese.

She looked up, narrowing her eyes angrily.  Her brother sat in front of her, arms laid out in front of him and a shiny new pair of black sunglasses on his face.

"I'm sorry, Nami.  I should have started with that." he admitted with his best apologetic tone.  It took a few seconds, but the frown on her face shifted to a smirk.

"Eh, I was getting bored of beating everyone here anyway.  So did you take out Prototype-san all by yourself?" she joked, as she chuckled through the gap in her teeth.

"Of course not." Arashi replied, his tone shifting back to be more serious.  "But I need you back at the store with me.  I sense he'll be back sooner than we think."

Nami was looking off into space now, joy beginning to rise in her chest as she began to fathom the thought that they might not have lost just yet.  "How can you be so sure he'll be back?"

In response, Arashi picked up the white bass guitar from underneath the table.  Nami's eyes widened as she noticed the spot of blood upon it, but she quickly grinned with satisfaction once the dots connected in her mind.

"This should be proof enough.  I have a plan, Nami.  And it accounts for his nephew, if he shows his face as well.  I'm going to need you to keep him busy so I can handle Rob uninterrupted."

At the sound of her brother's words, Nami was now truly listening.

She leaned in close as she made a joyfully devious declaration in response.

"Keep Afro-kun busy?  Oh Nii-san, I'll do a lot more than that..."

Fast forward to the next track...

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

-----

SAD TOMORROW: PART ONE

-----

For the first time in many weeks, Kimberly Ramone reached for her alarm.

Under the haze of grogginess and trick of recent dreams, it took her empty fingers more than a few seconds to realize that she had no alarm to be turned off.

It wasn't repeated beeping that had interrupted her afternoon nap, but rather familiar thoughts that had translated into familiar dreams.

Besides, Kim had smashed that mechanical annoyance of a clock a long time ago.

She groaned loudly as she rolled over in bed, grabbing her phone nearby as she realized the time.

Kim scratched her chin as she sat up, rolling her tongue in her mouth as she blinked into wakefulness.

Even on an afternoon like this, the house remained impossibly silent. The frame of her bed creaked ever so slightly as her feet dropped onto the floor.

Clothes of all kinds and colors were strewn about her crimson-rugged floor, but Kim just kicked them out of the way as she checked herself in the mirror. She pushed aside various lipstick tubes, eyeliner pencils and hair dye cases in the process.

But Kim was never too concerned with her appearance on most days. Everything else remained to be unimportant, save for the state of her hair.

All around her, various music posters displaying punk rock artists from 1974 onward hung all around her room. Some were worn beyond their years, edges beginning to peel away from the black wall, while others looked like they were just fresh out of their plastic wrapping.

In the right corner by her window, a towering stereo system, complete with a vinyl player and digital audio setup alike, watched over Kim's bed like some motionless Sentonal. Many a loud punk rock song had been played on those speakers, whether the rest of the house wanted to hear them or not.

When Kim was finally done checking her messy brown locks, she closed her room door shut behind her as she finally made her way downstairs.

As if to contrast the messiness and punk rock decor of her abode, the rest of the house was a sparkling, spotless picture of suburbian perfection. Various paintings of the ocean lined the walls, while of the furniture seemed impeccably clean and without a scuff or scratch.

Nevertheless, Kim stomped her way down the staircase, a look of disdain pasted on her face.

She made absolutely no effort to keep the noise level to a minimum. After another night at the club, full of drinking and frivolous spending, her mother would sleep through just about anything.

So with that thought in mind, there would be no better time than now to raid the fridge.

Her mother was constantly forgetful and lazy, but thankfully the day maid was not. Kim helped herself to the last night's lasagna, devouring it with quick, greedy bites.

With headphones around her neck and stomach now full, the girl heaved back onto the comfortable living room couch, staring up at the ceiling as she debated her plans for the day.

The thought crossed her mind of seeing what Michael and Aeris were up to, as they remained to be the closest thing she had to friends. Calvin didn't even make a blip in her mental checklist, even as Kim found herself scrolling through old texts.

A small smile crept up on her face at Michael's constant questions from last week on where everyone was, even as they waited in the lobby of Rob's building for him to buzz them in.

He remained to be an airhead, that much was for sure, but even Kim couldn't deny that there was a kind person in him that could make just about anyone comfortable.

For a moment, Kim's eyes drifted to one side, stopping on the familiar, metal-framed photo that sat some three feet away from her.

As if channeling some aspect of Michael Kay, Seth Ramone stared back at her from the still picture.

He grinned through his teeth, his Hawaiian shirt picked up by the breeze and his blue mohawk sprouting as high as ever. With her arms wrapped over his shoulders, a six-year old Kim laughed happily as the photo kept their perfect moment forever frozen in time.

Kim didn't reach for the photo, glaring at it for a few seconds before turning away.

It only fueled her frustration. It only reminded her of the empty existence that she'd continued to cling onto for the last eleven years.

Her mother didn't care.

Even despite all of her crying and hollering the day the cops showed up at their door, all Kim remembered was crocodile tears.

She didn't truly miss Seth, only the idea of him being around.

Because if she truly missed him, then maybe she would have spent more time actually being a mother than she did spending their seemingly endless funds on extravagant dinners with her friends and nights out at various Manhattan clubs.

Her expression never changed, but internally Kim could feel herself crumbling as her brother's face continuously ran through her mind.

In the end, her mother didn't know what it was like to lose the most important person in her life.

She lost a son who she had argued with and threatened to throw out on a constant basis.

Meanwhile, Kim lost everything that mattered. These days, Seth only lived on as a memory within the music Kim listened to on a daily basis.

As these painful thoughts began to swim in her mind, Kim went to her phone again. In particular, her gaze caught onto a message she had initially ignored from about two days ago.

It was from Aeris, who she'd last seen at the Sound Loft for Michael's little get together.

Her message was nothing more than a simple request to meet up, as any friend might want to.

More than a month ago, Kim would have just ignored her and deleted the message. But with the amount of time she'd spent in the girl's company, Kim had begun to realize that she was becoming as comfortable around Aeris as she was around Michael.

Perhaps seeing her was exactly what she needed right now.

Anything to keep her mind off Seth would be a blessing.

So focused on keeping her composure, it took Kim only ten seconds to type and send a response, before she was on her feet and out the door.

Hopefully the Dust Bowl wasn't too packed. It wasn't one of her nights, after all.

-----

When school vacation had finally hit in December, all Kim could think to was how much she could finally relax.

She'd been looking forward to a whole week without the useless droning of the high school curriculum, and maybe even a well-deserved break from all the weeks of training that had passed her and the others by.

And like a cherry on top of it all, her mother was planning on going to Florida for the whole week, giving her free reign over the entire house.

Yet here she was, sitting on a familiar bench inside the Dust Bowl, and chugging on a energy drink as none other than Aeris Fairfield sat beside her.

Aeris had gotten here early, and was somewhat surprised to see the park practically empty.

After a good minute of Kim saying nothing, the blond girl was the one to finally break the ice.

"To be honest, I didn't think you'd actually respond." Aeris said, her voice pleasant as always.

On a December evening like this, the cold remained as biting as always, and Aeris hadn't neglected to bring her heavy winter coat because of it.

Meanwhile, Kim could only wonder if the emptiness was due to the weather, or if their first confrontation with Helia and Renaldo had somehow made the rounds and scared the majority of the skaters away.

Either way, it was nice to have the alone time.

"Well, you don't send me five extra texts when I don't answer. I've been preoccupied with stuff." Kim hastily replied, before taking another greedy sip from her drink.

Aeris laughed in response, tilting her face towards Kim ever so slightly. "You and me both. It's been some ride with Michael and Calvin, huh?"

"At least Afroboy I can handle." Kim commented, now allowing just a passing smile to creep up. "But that literal con artist? Remind me exactly why we're still keeping him around..."

"He's just a lot of hot air. I wish he wouldn't ignore Michael so much though. I think he's under the impression that they're friends." Aeris replied, rubbing her gloved hands together as she held her head down.

"I'd hate to think he's taking advantage of Michael's friendliness." she further added.

Kim was none at all surprised, but she humored the whole situation nonetheless.

"And how do you know that he ignores the kid? What about all those phone issues he kept blabbing about? Maybe he's telling the truth. I mean, what a shock that would be."

Kim chuckled as she took another gulp, her mind descending more and more into comfort the longer they spoke.

Aeris smiled, and her response came out with just a hint of nervousness.

"Well, he certainly doesn't ignore me. He texts me quite a bit, actually."

Kim raised her eyebrows. "You actually indulge in talking to that loser?"

"More like he talks to me." Aeris admitted, now playing with her hair as she realized her uncertainty. "But he's not as bad as you think. He's just not as comfortable when it comes to you guys, so his go to reaction is the jokes and show-off act. Plus Michael can get a bit overwhelming, and you're..."

Aeris mumbled into her next words, but Kim already knew what she wanted to say.

"...not his type? Too pissed off all the time for his refined tastes?" Kim just straight up finished for her, much to Aeris's surprise.

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that." she answered quietly, not wanting to escalate the situation any further.

But it didn't matter, as Kim's tone just got louder and meaner in response. "Then what did you mean? Did you call me here so that you could gush over your new crush, or is there something actually important you want to tell me?"

Aeris sighed, and then her tone switched from friendly to serious in a heartbeat.

"I called you, because as your friend, I'm worried about you. Unless it has to do with training, you kind of just ignore everybody. I practically had to drag you to Rob's place, remember?"

Kim narrowed her eyes at the declaration. To be reminded of the fact that she didn't initially want to go to the Sound Loft just annoyed her all that much more.

"Hey, you didn't drag me anywhere, Aeris." she shot back, pointing an accusing finger at Aeris. "If I didn't want to come, then not you or anybody else is going to make me. If I want to disappear, then believe me, I will. That's my business."

"You see? I knew Calvin had a point under all of his complaining. You turn into such a bitch just like that. It's almost like you do it on purpose the minute anyone corners you about something." Aeris pointed out in response, only to realize the weight of her words a moment later.

Unfortunately, by now it was far too late to take any of it back. Kim was already standing up, her lips curled into a frown as she audibly crushed the empty can in her hand.

"Oh, so now you're gossiping with your new boyfriend behind my back? How bloody typical. Yeah, I think we're done here."

With that, Kim threw the crushed can far behind her, combat boots stomping into the ground as she slipped her headphones on and began to walk away.

"Kim, please wait. That was out of a turn.  I know there's a lot you keep to yourself, but I..."

Kim kept walking, only to stop short at the next few words that left Aeris's mouth.  

It was the only words she knew would get Kim to stop for sure.

"...I know about Seth.  I know what happened.  And if something like that happened to one of my brothers, I can't even begin to imagine what I would do."

The words played through Kim's mind more than once. The memory she was trying to avoid came right back to her, clear as day.

For the briefest moment, Kim debated whether or not to turn around.

Somehow, Aeris must have done some digging in her spare time.

The accident itself had been on the local news, so it was only a matter of persistence for her to pull it up from some old Village Voice article.

But before Kim could respond to her newly gleaned information, someone else decided to chime in.

"So sorry, but I'm going to have to interrupt this tender moment. I'm sure poor Kimberly here was just about to bawl her eyes out."

Kim's facial muscles tightened at the sound of Helia's voice, as Aeris practically jumped off her seat behind her at the sight of the two Zero Beat members that now appeared in their midst.

Renaldo remained quiet as he allowed his technical superior to speak for the both of them.

"And here we are again, in the same stupid place, for the same stupid girl. Can you do us all a favor and just come quietly this time?" Helia asked, though not even Michael's famous obliviousness could miss her sarcasm at a time like this.

"Oh, you've got be kidding me right now. Did you not learn your lesson the second time?" Kim said, trying to control the rising anger inside her.

"Look, I don't have time for this nonsense. Get lost, and you get a pass tonight." Kim declared, hoping the hint of rage in her voice would be enough.

But unfortunately for her, the two of them seemed less than willing to retreat. Renaldo, for the first time in awhile, added his best threat

"Then we'll try our best to make this quick.  We're ready for you this time, Kim."

Kim's eyes widened at his sudden confidence, and in response, the voice of Tom Jones began to overtake the surrounding space with its soulful sound.  The familiar form of the Big Bomb Balladeer could be seen materializing behind Renaldo as he Harmonized with the song.

But as Kim slipped on her headphones in response, she felt a hand on her shoulder as Aeris reminded her of her presence.

"I'm here, Kim. Let's show these pushovers that no one, not even Zero Beat, messes with the Audio Knights." she whispered, her voice just a little playful despite the reality of a real fight in front of her.

Kim held back any sort of smile, but her own tone betrayed the fact that she was too was perhaps a little glad now to have Aeris around.

"Leave it to Afroboy to make the name stick." she replied.  "This shouldn't take too long."

Kim's fists tightened, and as she Harmonized, Desolation Row surged through her body.

It bled its dark purple ichor through her eyes, darkforce claws forming their gangly shape over on both of her hands.

Kim just grimaced with rage at both Helia and Renaldo as she took one step forward, beckoning them with one clawed finger as her voice took on a unnatural sound.

"Okay, if you two insist.  Who wants to die first?"

Fast forward to the next track...

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

-----

-----

RETURN OF THE SPACE COWBOY: PART SEVEN

-----

It had taken just about every ounce of his will for Michael to hold back how much of a blubbering mess he really was right now.

Between his nerves on the verge of exploding from facing the Nagataki siblings again, to his constant observation of Rob's struggle to even just walk alongside him, Michael was almost beginning to wish he'd stayed back at Rob's place.

Instead, they were now only two blocks away from Semi-Sound, where only hours before, Michael Kay had nearly met his maker.

"You think Colleen's gonna really be alright back at the Sound Loft?" Michael asked, in an attempt to keep Rob's mind off the walking itself.

His uncle's pace remained unchanged, though he still felt spikes of pain shoot through his calves nevertheless.

"When this is is all over, it would probably best if you let me handle her. Better she kill me then kill you." Rob suggested, only for his nephew to answer with his best attempt as a joke.

"Yeah, but not if those two kill us first!" Michael declared with a very forced laugh.

They both stopped as they finally reached the back alley leading into Semi-Sound's back entrance. Behind them, as late night taxis honked and their lights flashed by, Rob simply shook his head at his nephew's words.

"If it makes you feel any better, Mike, you're already leagues better as a Music Master than I was at your age."

Michael just gulped in response as they cautiously approached. Even having Rob here with him, he was beyond nervous. It seemed all of his previous elation from practicing his new song effect and avoiding Colleen's lecture had finally ran out.

"That means a lot, Rob. You just being back with me, it means more than I could ever say. If anything happens, I just want you to kn-"

Rob cut him off as he grabbed onto the handle of the back door, which barely hung onto its hinges from Nami's previous assault.

"Hey, don't even start with that talk. Because when we walk out of here with that bass guitar, you're going to remind me about everything I have to apologize for."

In a rare moment, Rob allowed a semblance of sadness escape his normally stoic tone of voice. And that was exactly what Michael needed before he found himself hugging his uncle tightly.

As they stood silently in the cold breeze, Michael wished more than anything that these wouldn't be the last moments he and Rob would have together, especially after only just having him come back.

Of course, Rob easily sensed all of his fear. He opened what was left of the door as he put a reassuring hand on Michael's shoulder.

"Come on. Let's just grab the bass and get back to Colleen."

-----

Rob had been on edge since they'd left the apartment, but it only became worse the moment he'd seen Semi-Sound's ground floor suddenly clean and organized.

Most likely the work of a song effect, a majority of the previous damage and mayhem from the Big YMCA and Rob's own battle with the Nagataki siblings had been all but mysteriously removed.

Now Rob found himself scaling a flight of stairs as his body ached for the touch of that white bass.

Michael waited at the ground floor, presumably to act as an early scout in case the Nagataki siblings returned. Rob had given specific instructions for him to stay there no matter what, and that once Rob had the bass guitar, he would teleport down and have them both back at the Sound Loft before they knew it.

But nothing could be further from the truth. As Rob stopped for a moment, sweat beginning to form on his his forearms as his body heaved against the effort, he replayed everything in his head.

One of those Japanese kids had taken the bass guitar, as it was curiously gone from the spot on the ground floor where Rob had left his bloody fingerprint upon it.

But Rob could feel an echo of it still inside the store. He'd felt that echo since they'd originally escaped, and it was the very same thing that drained his body of energy the longer he was away from it.

Having been Synkronized to his original bass for so many years, his body simply could no longer be without some iteration of the five-string instrument.

Thankfully, Rob could still feel its echo high above them, on the third floor of Semi-Sound.

Though his body was wracked with fatigue, Rob made his way through rooms of used instruments and speakers before reaching a spacious old karaoke room that had certainly seen better days. Through that, up one last flight of stairs, the elusive white bass awaited him.

When he closed the door behind him, he was met with the sight of third floor, which held the nicest and most expensive instruments within the store's inventory. Rob smiled to himself as his eyes searched for the white bass.

It wasn't a huge surprise that the pricey instruments had remained up here.  Ricky never failed with his cheap nature, even when Zero Beat was footing the bill.

Though he looked for a good five minutes, Rob couldn't see any sign of the white bass guitar anywhere.

As his body continued to weaken, and frustration began to build inside, Rob debated taking another guitar when the atmosphere around him began to change.

Music slowly increased in volume from behind him as Rob's expectations came to fruition. The bass player fixed his cap, but didn't turn around just yet.

"I understand you are looking for this." Arashi Nagataki stated as he revealed himself.

"You got me. So let me guess, this is the part where you threaten my life, and expect me to beg? I think you'll be walking out disappointed."  Rob answered in his most casual tone.

The echo of the bass was just behind him, resting in a pair of unusually strong hands.

Rob darted for his cassette player, only to feel the sensation of foreign fingers digging into his jacket pocket. He looked down, only to see a literal red heart, complete with thin arms and legs, holding his cassette player as if it was some prize.

Rob grabbed at it, but it scuttled away back to Arashi with the speed of a primate.

Turned around fully to face him, Rob was met with sight of the elder Nagataki, hands in his pockets as he was surrounded by a half dozen of these heart-shaped Sentonals. They made no noise, but moved erratically as if only held down by their Music Master's sheer will.  Concept of Love continued to play around them, as if contrasting their own silence.

One of them in particular held onto the white bass guitar with an iron hard grip.

"I would not worry about your life. Zero Beat needs you alive. But your nephew will not be so lucky."

Rob could only lower the brim on his cap, hoping that he'd evened the odds for Michael by splitting them up like this. But Arashi seemed to read his mind before he could answer.

"I am sure Nami will keep him very busy. But you should focus on yourself. Because while I will not kill you..."

Rob could feel the tension snap in the air, and all at once, Arashi's Sentonals jumped at him like a pack of hungry animals. They punched, kicked and clawed, quickly bringing him to the ground with their combined weight.

Rob fought back as best he could, but their numbers put them in clear advantage.

Arashi just casually walked in front of him as his Sentonals continued to lay down their beating. He looked down on Rob, lowering his sunglasses as he finished his statement.

"...you will not be delivered to Zero Beat unharmed."

Without a bass guitar to fight with or music coursing in his ears, Rob could only thrash as much as possible as these heart-shaped beings assaulted him in silent fury.

As his body felt each blow from their tiny fists, and his mind struggled to stay conscious, he could only think of his nephew, even at a time like this.

He hoped that leaving Nami to Michael was the right choice.

-----

It was at the ten minute mark of waiting for Rob that Michael began to start pacing.

He didn't immediately panic, mostly because that was the last thing he wanted the Japanese siblings to see if they did happen to waltz in.

Instead, Michael plopped down behind the empty counter and stared at his phone, waiting for the signal from Rob that would surely come at any minute.

But after another three minutes, it was like waiting to hear from Calvin all over again.

Michael sighed as he understood the situation being forced upon him.

Whatever fear or apprehension he had would need to be silenced for the time being.

Knowing that time was of the essence now, Michael put on his headphones before dashing towards the stairwell door.

It would be two on two this time, at the very least.

But Michael could only hope that with Rob not having his bass, perhaps they would still have close to a fair fight.

-----

Unlike his uncle, Michael had scaled the three floors of stairs with relative ease. Powered by a mixture of adrenaline and nerves, he soon found himself at an open door leading into a room of pure darkness.

Next to the door was an old, poorly written sign stating "Karaoke." Underneath it was Japanese text, written in black felt marker, but of course it still remained completely alien to Michael.

Not wanting to waste a moment, Michael closed the door behind him as his eyes tried to adjust to the room. From what little he could see, it was large enough for at least a dozen people, and the floor was smooth enough to be danced upon comfortably.

The afro-headed teen was able to take but a few more steps forward before the light switch suddenly clicked on.

Leaning next to it, with a gap-toothed smile on her face and arms confidently crossed as she stood completely in Michael's way, was none other than Nami Nagataki.

"Oh hallo, Afro-kun. Did you get my message?" she asked, her voice practically drowned in happiness.

Michael was already in fight or flight mode, fingers twitching as he wondered how quickly he could get to his music player.

"I, uh, can't really read Japanese." he replied, trying to sound just a little more unsure in an effort to buy time.

Nami walked towards him, basking in her confidence as her steps echoed throughout the karaoke room.

"It is very easy though...well, easy for me. Just like dancing." she pointed out, her eyes scanning him up and down.

"I would like to dance with you very much, Afro-kun."

Her words sounded inviting, but Michael knew better. That look in her eyes was anything but.

"Nami, right? Look, maybe I can take your offer from before. If you just let me walk right past you, I won't be the hero here." Michael offered as his solution, but his words were meaningless to her now.

Nami snorted loudly in response. "I have a better idea. Last one standing leaves. How does that sound?"

With that, Nami clicked on another switch next to the light. There was a light whirring noise as a disco ball began to spin above, the lights automatically dimming as its brilliant lights flashed across the entire karaoke room.

But what really caught Michael's attention was the massive amp and sound system located to Nami's far left. He noted the old style remote in her hands, and it took only a second for him to realize why her headphones being around her neck was so inconsequential.

"You're really gonna do this, aren't you?" Michael asked sincerely.

Nami's expression only soured in response. "Yes, I am. I will do it for Nii-san, and I will do it so that you can understand how much of a loser you really are."

Michael glanced behind him, realizing that there was no way out of this. If he was going to get to Rob, then he was going to have to take down a real Music Master all by himself.

There would be no Big YMCA to win the fight for him, since of course it wouldn't fit.  

No Kim to give him advice, and no Rob to jump in at the last moment.

It was just the two of them, here and now.

Michael accepted his fate, readying his stance as his free hand went for his music player.

"Then this is going to be your last dance, Nami." he told her, the muscles in his legs raring to go.

"Okay, Afro-kun.  Let us see who is the hero now."

Her finger clicked on the remote in the instant that Michael pressed play on his own device. Michael began to run headlong at her, but Nami didn't move an inch, even as Canned Heat emerged into the air and Michael's heels began to literally burn up the dance floor.

The room's speakers blasted out her music, four of her familiar killer arrows hovering above her as they manifested but a moment later.  

Under her command, two of them launched forward towards Michael's midsection, but he dove quickly, sliding on his heels as his heat-infused hand reached for Nami's still unused headphones.

Michael seemed as if he was about to finish in his fingertips, when all of a sudden, Nami simply wasn't there.

There was nothing superhuman about it. She simply flowed to one side, effortlessly dodging his heat in the process. And in that same motion, he felt the toe of one of her Gogo boots kick hard into his shin.

One second, he was diving at her, and before he knew it, he was rolling onto the floor as Nami laughed loudly.

Michael acted quickly, going into an L-kick as another three of Nami's killer arrows nearly cut into his headphone wire. He jumped back on his feet, but before he could so much as try to hit her, Michael felt her knuckles crashing right into the bridge of his nose.

She wasn't very strong, but it still hurt, and it still was enough to send Michael sliding back. As he shook his head, trying to recover, Nami was already sweeping her leg out.

Michael yelped as he felt himself flip over. His back hit the dance floor hard, and his head started to spin as the incredibly loud sound of Hyper Eurobeat seemed to only make everything worse.  

"You are not very fast." Nami mocked, as Michael just gasped in frustration.

If he could just get rid of the speakers, then at least Nami would have to go back to fragile headphones.  

Unfortunately, he had little time to think, as the sound of sliced air signified the rain of her killer arrows coming down to claim his life.

Michael rolled sharply to one side, dodging each one by a sliver as Nami casually followed him, her hand swaying back and forth as she bobbed her head to the music.  Each sharpened arrow made loud cracking noises as each punctured the wooden floor in succession.

Finally, it was the very last one that came down right into the fabric of Michael's tie dye shirt.  As he tried to move, he found himself very much stuck as the arrow's point dug into both cotton and the wooden floor alike.

Michael could only look up as Nami stood above him, clearly relishing her superiority in this whole situation.

"Do you know Nii-san told me I have to kill you?" she asked the boy, who seemed out of options as five more of her killer arrows hovered above her shoulders.

"So what's stopping you?" Michael pointed out, while Nami just smiled down at him in response.

"I wanted to see if you could dance first.  But you are very disappointing to me."

Michael frowned, and in response, Canned Heat began to flare up in his heels.  Memories of fighting Kim rushed back to him, and before he knew it, his legs were spinning as he performed a windmill of rushing air and red-orange heat.

Nami's smile vanished as she finally backed off.

It wasn't so much that she couldn't dodge his attack.  She was faster than him, that much was certainly a fact.

But what was also a fact, was that those American dance moves of his were something she had continued to struggle with to this day.  Nami fought to keep her apprehension off her face even as Michael was back up and ready to face her.

"Is that disappointing enough for you?" he asked with sarcasm and his own snide smile.

Nami shot back sharp, annoyed words.  "Oh, shut up and die!"

More arrows surged at Michael, but he swayed his body to one side to just barely dodge them.  Nami's aggression only seemed to be mounting, and her fists battered at his stomach even as he craned his neck back to dodge yet another of her killer projectiles.

Michael let out a pained grunt even as he moved his limbs in the smoothest dance he could muster.

But Nami's neon arrows of death came like endless rain, and it was only another twenty seconds of intense dance-dodging before Michael could begin to feel the lactic acid building in his limbs.

As three more came at him, he did a cartwheel backwards in order to create space between himself and Nami.

Unfortunately, Michael's chest was heaving and his breath short as he tried to regain his posture.

He was only so fast, and in this human form, he only had so much energy.

He looked up, only to see Nami slowly approaching him, reveling in her supremacy.

If there was a time to use that song effect, then it was now or never.  His finger went for his music player, though Nami seemed unafraid of his movements.

Still, she couldn't get another insult in before Michael Kay pressed fast forward on his music player, closing his eyes as he began to Harmonize with the very same song he had practiced in the Sound Loft only hours before.

A sharp bass line punctured the air as another high-pitched voice surfaced as if to counter Hyper Eurobeat. She put her arm to her eyes as the light around Michael became all the more brilliant. Delicate, clinking sounds accompanied the process of each and every section of his skin transmuting into what seemed like metallic facets.

-----

-----

Another second passed, and Michael stood up, now staring down Nami Nagataki with neon green orbs. Where once he had a black haired afro, there was now a shimmering disco ball taking its place. His face had become robotic and featureless, save for his eyes and slightest ridge of his nose.

With no mouth to speak of now, Michael could no longer grin nor make any cheesy one-liners. But now was not the time for talk, as Nami had made it abundantly clear.  

"Oh, so you are Mecha Afro-Kun now?" Nami asked in jest. "It makes no difference. I will break you like a toy anyway!"

As if responding to her growing annoyance, a dozen of her neon arrows of death manifested in the air above Nami.

When they surged forward, Michael neither blinked nor could he even let out a breath.

Instead, his robotic limbs moved with incalculable speed and rhythm as they dodged every single projectile that came his way. Some flew beneath his arms, other above his metal globe of hair, and even more came nowhere near close to even hitting him.

When they were all spent, Michael stood with shoulders locked, as Nami eyes widened.

He said nothing, instead beckoning her with a single finger.

Fortunately, she was more than happy to oblige, as more of her killer arrows flew out in a stream of destruction. His robotic form seemed unfazed, however, as he moonwalked back towards the towering speaker system as arrow after arrow crashed into old furniture, wall and floor alike.

Nami pushed her arms wildly, forcing all her strength into increasing the speed of her song effect projectiles. She gritted her teeth as she watched Michael continue to dodge each and every one with seemingly no effort.

Finally, Michael stopped in place, arms and legs spread out as his feet shimmied to the beat of the music. If he could smile right now, he would have.

Nami was losing her patience, and she was awful at hiding it.

Michael shrugged right in front of her, only to receive an angry declaration in return.

"You think you are good? Let us see you try without your stupid song!"

Of course, Michael just mechanically shook his head in response. Nami's face scrunched up, and she pushed both of her arms out as the rest of her killer arrows flew forward with deadly intent.

Under the influence of Dancing Machine, everything around Michael moved as if underwater. He had more than enough time to arch is entire back into a perfect ninety degree angle, something his human form would have been previously incapable of.

With a quick limbo, Michael watched all nine of Nami's arrows smash right into the same speaker system that fueled their power. Electricity sparked out as the speaker's internal wires were cut apart, and when the damage was done, Nami was left standing alone as every last one of Hyper Eurobeat's projectiles vanished from this plane of existence.

Still without a mouth, Michael put his index finger and thumb to his head in his best mocking gesture.

But even without a song effect active, Nami charged at him, death glare pasted on her face.

She threw a punch, but she might as well have been drunk to Michael. He dodged it easily with just one step, before quickly shifting onto the floor as he transitioned into a  headspin.

One sneaker sole slapped against Nami's cheek, and then another, and then two more as he began to increase speed. Going as fast as a top, Michael continued his assault until Nami finally slid back from all the force.

Her left cheek was red from the blows, but Nami wasn't thinking about the pain.

Instead, her previous feelings of frustration began to resurface as she watched Michael switch from his headspin right into a handstand. He pushed off the ground with ease, back-flipping right into a standing position.

"Easy, easy, easy! I can do that too, and make it look better in every way!" Nami whined, even as she lifted her headphones up to now cover her ears.

Michael just held up one finger, taunting her as he shook it back and forth.

But if there was anything Nami had learned from years of playing at the arcade, it was that so-called saltiness would only cause victory to slip out of her grasp.

This time, Nami stood her ground as she allowed another song to take over, a smile slowly forming on her face.

Michael's metallic face remained unchanged, but underneath all of the reflective facets that now made up his skin, he was beginning to feel that hint of nerves again.

As he heard Nami's new song, Michael found himself almost wanting to hum along to the disco beat at the beginning.

-----

-----

But then when the singer began to belt out in Japanese, and Michael's eyes spotted an array of colors flashing just behind Nami, did he remember that her song effect would be anything but friendly to him.

Realizing that Nami would be truly down for the count if he could just take out her headphones, the afro-headed robot teen dashed forward.

One silvery faceted hand reached out for the device over her ears, only to stop short as Michael felt a fist suddenly meet his mid-air.

Facets cracked as the being punched hard into Michael's knuckles. He couldn't yelp out from the horrible pain of his delicate form being harmed, but Michael retracted his hand nevertheless.

Formed from Sweet Survivor, Michael was now faced with the form of an iridescent  and statuesque girl. She looked far more fragile than her punch had let on, clad in a futuristic dress and bearing completely pupil-less eyes. She didn't stand in front of Nami, but rather floated just above the ground under her own power.

"Before, that was just level one. Are you ready for level two, Afro-Kun?"

Nami's Sentonal slammed one hand into her other open fist in response. She moved forward in the air, afterimages following her with a flashy rainbow of color as she prepared to strike.

Michael expected one punch, but instead he was faced with fourteen in succession. All of a sudden, where the world had previously moved at a snail's pace, everything felt real again.

Every one of Michael's limbs worked in furious concert as even this robotic form struggled to dodge each punch.

"DANSUDANSUDANSUDANSUDANSU!" Nami's Sentonal cried out triumphantly as it laid down its assault upon him, it's voice speeding up to match the blows.

Meanwhile, Nami herself took her sweet time as she approached Michael from behind, all with the intention of removing his headphones quickly and quietly.

But even as Michael's attention was on the punches assailing him, even he wasn't so slow again to not react as Nami's fingers almost brushed against the metal globe that had replaced his hair.

Michael slid down, sweeping his legs out as he knocked Nami off her feet.

Reacting in the same instant, her Sentonal shifted forward to catch her in its arms just before she would hit the ground. With this, Michael Kay had enough time to retreat back, if only for the moment.

He noted the rainbow silhouettes forming a trail behind Nami's Sentonal, their brilliant colors lighting up the dim of the karaoke room.  Some of them were quite close for comfort, but Michael didn't think much of it.

It was only when Michael saw that gap-toothed grin on Nami's face that he began to realize something was very wrong.

What appeared to be just afterimages around him proved to be otherwise, as more than one multi-colored punch suddenly came at him.

Dancing Machine allowed him to dodge the first, and then the second, but when the third and the fourth came, Michael found himself bouncing back and forth as the blows cracked more of the facets that made up his skin.

He couldn't scream or cry out, and as the fifth hit his belly, he found that he couldn't even exhale to stifle the pain.

Hunched over as all six of the afterimage copies hovered around him, Michael Kay could only weakly look up as she pointed his direction, still cradled in her original Sentonal's arms.

"Behind you, Afro-kun."

Michael didn't even have the strength to turn as an indigo fist smashed right into the left side of his face. Finally, he could feel a scream of pain coming out, as his right ear bud was violently knocked out in the process.

Michael slammed down onto the wooden floor, his breath catching up to him as he felt pain aching from his entire body. He stared down at the floor, trying to recuperate even as he realized Dancing Machine had been interrupted.

His hand went to pop his ear bud back in, but instead Michael choked out a gasp as Nami's boot slammed into his midsection and sent him tumbling backwards into the broken speaker.

The world spun as Michael Kay bumped the back of his head hard.

His vision started to fluctuate as his ears tried to focus on each decisive step, while Nami approached with her Sentonal in tow.

He was clearly outnumbered, and though Dancing Machine would allow him to dodge her attacks, he still couldn't predict the actions of seven different Sentonals at once.

Michael could feel pain in one knee and a throbbing ache coming from the left side of his face. Nami was standing over him now, her Sentonal aggressively behind her and prepared to strike him down if need be.

"The stage is over, Afro-kun. And looks like I got the high score." Nami rubbed in, but Michael was far more concerned with pain and fatigue than her insults.

Nami leaned down, her eyes becoming serious as their faces became uncomfortably close.

"Now you are going to tell me that you lost, and that I won. You are going to tell me how much of a better dancer than you I am, and you are going to beg me to teach you." she explained, clearly not expecting Michael to have any other options.

"And maybe if you do that, then I will tell Nii-san that you died like a hero, and you get the chance to walk away."

It was hard to say if Michael legitimately thought about taking her offer. Nami waited to hear his response nevertheless, intending to end their fight one way or another.

A rush of emotions swirled through Michael at a time like this, but out of everything he could have said to her, it seemed he decided to choose his words poorly.

"You can't break dance, can you?"

Nami's expression just about cracked. Her smile shifted to a pout as she glared back at him.

"I can not...what?"

Michael didn't relent though, even as he readied his right hand to move when the time was right.

"You heard me. You can't break dance. You must love those rhythm games, right? Sounds like it doesn't take a real dancer to be any good at them."

Nami's eyes almost popped out of her head as she shrieked back at him.

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

Michael raised a knowing eyebrow in response. "Or what?"

In response, her Sentonal's fist hovered just in front of his face, ready to clobber him at any moment.

"If I wanted to, I could learn your stupid dance moves so easy. I just..."

Her voice trailed off, as uncertainty in her words become beyond obvious.

"...you're just not good enough? It's okay, we all start somewhere." Michael finished her sentence for her.

Who knew that Kim's brand of insults would be the one thing that might save him from doom?  Michael would have chuckled if Nami wasn't about to bash his teeth in.

Finally though, Nami's demeanor broke, and her Sentonal's fist went straight for Michael's face.

All of the energy stored up from not moving during this exchange finally became of use, with Michael barely ducking as the yellow-green fist smashed right into the speaker behind him.

Her anger so focused on Michael, all of Sweet Survivor's  afterimages had combined into the original form for this one blow.  Because of this, Nami now found her Sentonal unable to immediately pull back from the tangle of plastic and wires it had broken through.

Michael acted quickly in response. With one hand, he popped in his remaining headphone, while his legs shifted into his familiar windmill maneuver.

Canned Heat was already flaring in his right hand as his legs battered into Nami's knees, sending her flat onto her back and staring up at the ceiling.

She was quick though as she sat up, but in this moment, Michael was quicker where it counted.

From another of his practiced handstands, he flipped high up into the air, landing on his feet right behind her.

As five sets of fists all went for him, Michael closed his eyes and focused all of Canned Heat's energy not in his heels, but in his previously cold left hand.

There was a light crackle, and before Nami's Sentonals could beat Michael asunder, he had completely vaporized her headphones in one precise motion.

Michael stood up, and finally, his limbs relaxed. He looked to both sides, and Nami's Sentonals were gone in the same moment her music had been cut off.

Nami herself, meanwhile, didn't even turn around. Instead, she stared forward before pulling her legs in and burying her face in her knees.

Michael didn't know what to say, but his eyes went towards the door out of the karaoke room once he was sure the fight was over.

It was when he grabbed the doorknob that Nami spoke, albeit in a tone drained of all her previous cockiness.

"How did you know I could not do any of that?" Nami asked, and Michael expression softened once he heard the sniffle of tears.

"You're...not good at hiding it. You know, if your brother wasn't so crazy about nabbing my uncle, maybe we wouldn't have had to do this."

Michael didn't turn, but he also felt something stopping him from opening the door to freedom as Nami continued.

"How can you do all of that? How can you make it look so easy? Since I was a little girl, I could never dance like that." she asked, searching for some reassurance, if any.

Michael sighed before he replied.

"I can't really explain. Dancing is sort of my thing, you know?"

He turned ever so slightly, smiling with sincerity for the first time in their whole encounter.

"It's the only thing I'm good at."

Nami didn't respond, and Michael left it at that. He shut the karaoke room door behind him, rushing up the last flight towards the room where he could clearly hear a struggle between two Music Masters.

When he was finally gone, Nami could only look up at the ceiling, no longer crying but her tone of voice defeated nonetheless.

"It is supposed to be my thing, Afro-kun. And if you take it, what do I have left?"

-----

-----

Even as Michael unexpectedly rushed into the third floor instrument room, Arashi was only so caught off-guard.

As Rob weakly reached out from the floor, Michael only had a moment to react as more than one of his heart-shaped Sentonals jumped at him like rabid monkeys.

With Canned Heat still active, Michael waved his right hand in an arc, and four of them were bisected in mid-air as he let loose its destructive heat.

Michael's eyes spotted the white bass guitar, his heels flaring up as he prepared to make a run for it.

Unfortunately for Michael, Arashi was already switching to Ultrasoul right as he was only two feet away from the guitar itself.

Orange energy and his flowing scarf followed the elder Nagataki's quick response, and Michael could only gasp as he felt a gloved hand roughly grab him by the throat.

Michael's heated hand instinctively went for his wrist, but in this form, Arashi just ignored the sizzle as he spoke to Michael with threat in his voice.

"How did you get past Nami?"

"I...I beat her." Michael could barely choke out as a response.

Arashi's eyes narrowed underneath the visor of his helmet.

"What? This must be a joke."

"Why don't you ask her...yourself?" Michael recommended, but it only earned him a tighter squeeze in response.

"Once we are finished here, I will. But I assure you, this will not be quick." Arashi promised, beginning to squeeze with every intention of crushing Michael's vertebrae slowly.

Everything that had happened to Michael Kay in these last two months flashed in front of his eyes, with his only solace being that Rob might have time to escape in these moments that Arashi was focused on him.

He was on the edge of what felt like his last breath when Arashi's grip slackened, and he dropped Michael in response.

The afro-headed teen shook his head and focused on the scene in front of him, as Rob had grabbed Arashi from behind in an attempt to restrain him in some fashion.

It took every ounce of strength he had to even put up some sort of fight, but Rob remained steadfast as he shouted to his nephew.

"Mike! The bass!"

Michael's eyes darted back to the white instrument right nearby. At first, he thought Rob wanted it passed over to him, until he reached for it and remembered Canned Heat still shrouded over his right hand.

Michael's gaze went back to Rob and Arashi, watching as the elder Nagataki finally pulled Rob off and threw him with unreal strength towards the wall of delicate instruments. Rob groaned as he made impact, all manner of guitars, standing keyboards and percussion falling around him.

There was no time left, as Arashi came for him, his own fist lit up with orange light and with the intent to put a bloody hole right through Michael.

With his heat-infused hand, Michael grabbed the neck of the bass, and for no more than a second, he focused all of his energy into it.

But instead of vaporizing, it radiated with the same orange-red aura Michael had seen that very first time he used Canned Heat at the Dust Bowl.

With Arashi now right in front of him, Michael threw the instrument headlong, as it burned like a fiery lance.

All it took was one swift kick for Arashi to blow it apart, and it seemed all was lost.

What he didn't count on, however, was the radiating heat packed inside, which exploded outward in violent display once its vessel was destroyed.

And though Arashi didn't feel it even at this close of a range, his defenseless headphones were disintegrated in but an instant, leaving him unprotected as his music stopped and UItrasoul deactivated in response.

Michael watched as Arashi tumbled backwards into a drum set, knocking over cymbals before he landed propped up against the center drum.

He touched his head, realizing his headphones were no more.

Then he touched his stomach, and both Michael and Rob looked on at the red splotch that was beginning to expand underneath his undershirt.  A shard of the broken white bass jutted out painfully from the spot, and the shock of it hit Arashi all at once.

He went to fix his sunglasses, and perhaps to say something, when the sheer pain became too much.  Arashi's mind went black as he quickly passed out.

Of course, there was no way Michael could tell the difference. He found himself approaching the downed Japanese teen with sudden sympathy, only to be stopped as Rob put a firm hand on his shoulder to stop him.

Michael's eyes tracked down to the extravagant, colorful bass now slung over his shoulder. He wanted to say something, anything to his uncle, but clearly now was not the time.

With his cassette player back in his pocket, and music back in his ears, Rob held onto his nephew as Traveling Without Moving played in the air once again.

The next second, and both Music Masters vanished, replaced by familiar green and gold threads, which faded away some moments later.

The music stopped in response, and silence reigned as Arashi laid defeated and still bleeding among the instruments.

-----

Arashi had initially wondered if he was dead when he finally came to, and if the warm female presence holding his head up was the mother he only so vaguely remembered from his childhood.

If he had the strength, he might have laughed in the irony, considering everything he'd done.

Even if it was all for Nami's sake.

But as his vision became clearer, the elder Nagataki realized that he was sprawled out on the floor of Semi-Sound, and a burning pain reminded him he was still very much bleeding from a stomach wound.

"I'm here, Nii-san." Nami assured, though her eyes wandered towards his wound as debated what to do next.

Arashi weakly looked to one side, and both Michael Kay and Rob Prototype were nowhere to be seen. Shards of what remained of the white bass guitar littered the floor.

Now they had truly failed. If his sunglasses weren't still on, then Nami might have been able to notice the growing sorrow in his eyes.  The realization that his sister's life and most likely his own, was now forfeit, began to hit him in full force.

"You lost." he stated, but for once, his Nami was far more concerned with his well-being than his insulting observation.

Her expression changed though, as a strange look of elation replaced her previous worries.  Michael's dancing flashed in her mind, only for her to force herself back to reality a second later.

"For now." she replied, her fingers now reaching for the shard of wood embedded in his stomach.

Arashi didn't have to say a word as she went for it.

There was a sound of suction, before his loud groan of pain echoed throughout the entire third floor.

Nami tossed the bloody shard aside, as she applied pressure on the wound with Arashi's jacket.

It was then that the door leading back into the stairwell opened, and both siblings looked up to see two foreigners walk into their midst.

Nami narrowed her eyes, preparing to stand up and face them, when the red-haired girl wearing the leather vest put her hands up in assurance.

"Relax, sushi roll. We're not here to start a fight.  Zero Beat sent us."

Arashi's raised his voice as best he could, while Nami remained poised to react nonetheless.

"We failed. Is it not obvious?"

He winced as his wound continued to bleed, with Nami focusing again on applying pressure as before.

Helia smiled snidely in response.

"Actually, you two just did us all a pretty huge favor. So I wouldn't say you failed. And trust me, Renaldo here knows quite a bit about actual failure."

Both siblings said nothing in response as the glasses-wearing boy next to Helia was already scrolling through his music player.  Renaldo himself just tried his best to ignore Helia, but she was already insistent.

"Hurry up." she demanded, as he played the song of choice. "They might actually kill us this time if we don't get these two back to Tokyo in one piece."

Renaldo said nothing, instead leaning down as he began to focus the chosen song effect into the palms of his hands and onto Arashi's still bleeding wound.

Helia, meanwhile, had already taken out a cigarette.

She took a long, slow smoke as she looked wistfully at both Nagataki siblings in their current state.  She badgered Nami in particular, who showed none of her previous cockiness given the situation.

"Why the long face? You and your brother might just be the luckiest bunch in the land of the rising sun."

Helia exhaled a gray cloud of nicotine as she smiled through her teeth, clearly peppier than usual while Renaldo continued his work.

"Just be happy we got here when we did."

Fast forward to the next track...

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

-----

-----

RETURN OF THE SPACE COWBOY: PART FIVE

-----

Right now in this very span of time, everything was not good and brown.

A sunshine smile was the last thing on Michael Kay's face as he stood by his uncle, who remained in agony, with only ten feet between him and the seemingly bloodthirsty Nagataki siblings.

As Rob struggled to regain control of his bodily functions, Michael threw out the only distraction he could think of.

"What the hell is wrong with you people? He's minding his own business, and you guys just jump him like that? What did Rob ever do to you?" Michael declared, of course trying his best to believe his own words in order to make it all the more genuine.

Arashi scoffed in response. With this fight now clearly in the palm of their hands, and Nami ready at a moment's notice, he doubted this boy would be much of a threat.

"Then you do not know him as well as you think. Did you know he is wanted by Zero Beat? Did you also know that he is wanted in over eight different countries?"

Michael didn't say a word in response to that, instead looking back at his uncle. Rob's chest was still heaving, but his body seemed to finally relax from the previous spasms.

Slowly, Rob's weight fell back, until he was leaning against one of the larger racks as his lungs rasped for air.

There was still a world's worth of information that Michael still didn't know about when it came to his uncle.

For now though, that was unimportant.

Even though he couldn't see the look in his eyes under his song effect-borne helmet, Michael could practically feel Arashi's killing intent in the air.

Arashi took one step forward, Ultrasoul still active. Michael immediately went in front of his uncle, arms out in a protective stance. Michael winced slightly, now feeling warm blood dripping down from his right forearm where one of Nami's killer arrows had hit home.

"I don't care what you say. You're not getting anywhere near him." Michael stated in his most courageous tone of voice.

This time, Arashi didn't react. He simply surveyed the situation, waiting to answer to the first move, if any.

But next to him, his sister simply chuckled under her breath.

Comebacks were such an alien concept to her, given how many people she'd demolished again and again in her precious rhythm games.

Nami could feel that wonderful rush of victory again, like some energizing electricity that washed over her.

Through all of this, Michael's headphones remained in his ears, though Canned Heat was no longer active.

While Arashi debated his next course of action, and Rob continued to labor in his breathing, Michael knew he would have be quick about this next move for it to have even a chance at success.

Unfortunately, Nami seemed be reading his mind.

"Be smart about this, Afro-kun. Perhaps if you walk away, we don't tell Zero Beat that you were even here. Don't try to be the hero." she suggested, though Michael couldn't tell if she really meant her words.

"Not an option." Arashi interjected, much to his sister's surprise. "Unfortunately for you, you're not coming back alive. Zero Beat was very specific on what they wanted for you."

Slowly but surely, Michael's left arm was lowering even as he kept his arms wide. With Arashi's gaze focused on Rob, and Nami busy glowering in their victory, it would be in these next few seconds that Michael Kay would have his chance.

"You think that's the first time I've heard that? Ha! Don't make me laugh." Michael shot back, with his best impersonation of Kim.

Three killer arrows remained hovering around Nami, ready to strike at her mental command. And in his Ultrasoul form, there was almost no way Michael would be able to dodge Arashi even with the extra speed from Canned Heat.

Holding back the urge to gulp, Michael looked up at he ceiling, trying to gauge the fifteen feet distance and wondering if it was enough. Finally, he exhaled, and quickly swiped his left arm down, finger snapping onto the fast forward button of his music player under his jean pocket.

When the music started, both Nagataki siblings were already on the attack.

Arashi was but a touch away when the booming guitar signaled the Sentonal's entrance. Two massive gloved hands slapped him aside, while another blocked two of the killer arrows headed straight for Michael Kay.

The third one, however, hit home as it cut right across Michael's right shoulder. He bit down on his lip as he tried to mentally will the pain away.

A number of loud crashes, snaps and booms accompanied the Big YMCA materializing in such a small space. Racks fell, instruments were pulverized, and all manner of records bit the dust as the gigantic being manifested into existence.

Down on what one might consider its knees, the Sentonal's Y pushed against the ceiling as its arms held fast against the ground. Like some sort of huge roadblock it remained physically stuck in the majority of space that made up Semi-Sound's first floor.  The beady black eyes on each of its letters could only direct their attention at the two Music Masters now threatening their charge.

Unable to move anything beyond three of its arms in this state, it was nevertheless enough to annoy Nami, but worse yet, worry Arashi as he quickly composed himself from being flung back by such a blow.

As Michael stood behind his crippled Sentonal, bleeding profusely from his shoulder and arm now, he waited for the death blow to come.

An orange afterimage flashed by Nami as her brother rushed to strike. His roller blades sparked across the floor, and he dove underneath one of the Big YMCA's clumsy arms with ease.  He moved with unreal speed, because every second now mattered beyond what Nami could comprehend.

It wasn't obvious with his visor, but Arashi's eyes were wide, and his heart was racing as he closed the distance between himself and Michael Kay.

He was but a touch away, leg glowing with otherworldly force as before, when the unthinkable happened.

With all the chaos going on, no one had noticed a groggy but conscious Rob as he revealed his dusty, seventeen year old cassette player.

In those thirty seconds that Michael had distracted Nami and Arashi with the Big YMCA, Rob had managed to get his headphones on and Harmonize with the exact same song he had bested the Nagataki siblings with only fifteen minutes before.

It was Arashi who had realized the third song in the air, and it was why he had put all his energy into reaching the bass player and his nephew.

His hand still shook horribly from weakness, and his mind wandered on the edge of unconsciousness, but Rob grabbed onto Michael's pant leg right as Arashi's kick was just beginning to vaporize the air in front of his nephew's tie dye shirt.

Time seemed to stop in that moment, until Arashi's attack sliced into nothing but air.  The shock wave from the force alone blew away every instrument and CD rack alike within a five foot radius.

Nami was speechless, for once, as her brother's song effect finally ended.

All that was left of Rob and Michael were remnants of gold and green energy threads. And once they had completely faded away, so did the sound of Traveling Without Moving.

Once Ultrasoul had ended, and Arashi was back to his normal form, Nami could see the same blood still coming down from the gash on his brow. He stared into space, ignoring it even as it began to stain into his jacket.

Nami slowly approached her brother behind. Uncertainty in her eyes, she reached out to his shoulder with a comforting hand. He spoke when she was an inch away from touching him.

"Do you understand what this means?" he asked in Japanese now, quite calmly.

Nami didn't want to answer. She already knew what was coming, and of course she didn't want to acknowledge it.

After five seconds of silence, Arashi turned to face her. The blood still came down from his forehead, but it was so inconsequential compared to the expression of disappointment now on her brother's face.

"It means we have nothing for Zero Beat now. It means we have no idea where they went. For all we know, he could have teleported to another country entirely." he told her, not mincing a single word.

Nami could say nothing as Arashi continued to unload his anger upon her.

"But most importantly, it means that we failed. Our one chance to fix everything back home is gone. It's gone because of you, because you're always impatient."

Arashi was unrelenting, even as tears began to well at the edge of Nami's eyes.

"I knew I should have left you back home."

With that final declaration, Arashi was silent.

But instead of the usual snide remark or angry declaration, Nami grimaced as tears began to stream down her cheeks. She narrowed her eyes before pushing her brother hard.

It wasn't enough to knock him down, but it was enough to jar him in the least.

He had just enough time to see the pained expression on her face as she tried to wipe tears away, before Nami turned tail and bolted out of Semi-Sound.

Arashi could hear her faint steps in the back alley outside for a few seconds, before he was sure she was gone.

Surrounded by broken instruments, crushed records, shattered boxes, storage bins and racks alike, Arashi sat down. He finally put a hand to the gash on his head, but strangely enough, it hadn't hurt all this time.

Arashi closed his eyes, acknowledging the situation and trying his best to pinpoint each and every mistake.

He would find Nami eventually. There was only one place she would end up going, after all.

But to find Rob Prototype? Now that would be another matter entirely.

-----

It was only minutes before that Michael Kay assumed he'd been dead.

Between watching his Japanese opponent's attack nearly phase through his body and then being thrust into a dimension of gold and green light that had practically overwhelmed his senses, it was a wonder that Michael was still sane when he finally came to.

When he shot up into wakefulness, Michael found himself somewhere unrecognizable.

Next to him was Rob, who was lightly breathing, but otherwise unconscious. He was lying on a long coffee-colored couch.

They found themselves in a spacious studio apartment, which was both impeccably clean and meticulously furnished and styled. As Michael tried to stand up to get a better look around, he felt the bleeding in both his shoulder and his arm.

With the knowledge that Rob seemed alright for now, Michael took off his shirt, only to yelp as he saw the full extent of his injuries.

Luckily they were relatively skin-deep wounds, but they bled and hurt nonetheless. Slowly, Michael sat back down on an empty loveseat, rubbing his knuckles as he debated what to do next.

If he wasn't in pain and worried about being hunted by Japanese assassins, then Michael might have been able to enjoy the spectacular view of city from the tower windows leading out into the balcony of the apartment itself.

Wincing again as he got up, Michael took off Rob's hat and placed it onto the small table nearby. Rob's expression seemed serene now, devoid of all previous pain and anguish from before. He took his phone out of his pocket, truly debating the next course of action he was about to take.

Of all people to contact, this was the last person in the world he wanted to reach.

But even Michael wasn't so dumb to not realize the severity of the situation. Sighing, he sent the text, and sat back down, waiting for the inevitable result.

In hindsight, waking up Kim in the dead of night might have been an easier choice.

-----

Amazingly, Colleen had attended to Michael first without saying a word.

In the end, it turned out that this studio apartment, which was presumably Rob's, was only a ten minute train ride from the hospital where Michael's older sister worked.

Michael was diligent in staying still as Colleen disinfected and dressed both cuts. He stared forward into space, ignoring the pain of the rubbing alcohol, and instead trying to not to think about the fact he had been forced to call his sister in the aftermath of a fight with Music Masters.

It took about fifteen minutes in total, but when she was finally done, Michael prayed that Rob would wake up and say something.

Anything so that he wouldn't have to explain himself.

Alas, Rob remained asleep on the couch, and Colleen stood up before clasping her travel first-aid kit shut.

"Okay. Now that you're officially not in pieces, you want to tell me what's going on, Mike?" she said quite directly.

The time for silence was over, and the time for excuses had come.

Michael's lie was a half-truth at best.

"Some guys jumped Rob. I tried to stop them."

Colleen looked over to her uncle now, noting his size. On top of his quick delivery, there was a logistical issue with Michael's explanation.

"How did you know he had this place? I didn't even know about it until you texted me the address. And on top of that, you expect me to believe that you carried him all the way here, bleeding like that?" Colleen pointed out, clearly having run out of patience at this point.

In the back of her mind, Colleen wanted to blame Rob for all of this. For all she knew, he could have been the reason behind Michael coming home so late, and the catalyst for his mysterious night activities that her brother always avoided talking about.

Michael's answer was just as flat as his previous lie.

"It was only two blocks. Rob told me where to go."

Colleen breathed in, her chest elevating from stress. She was about to press the subject further, when she spotted a hand reaching out from the corner of her eye.

That drew her and Michael's attention to Rob, who seemed to be grasping for something unseen in the air. Words mumbled out of his mouth, but only a few were even decipherable.

"White...strings...Talulah?" he said with a gasp, before Rob winced loudly as his entire body stiffened.

Colleen was at his side in an instant. She tried her best to shush him, before putting a hand on his forehead and noting the growing heat.

It felt just like the ER for her again as she barked orders at her brother. "Grab me a towel and some ice from the fridge. Quickly, he's going into shock."

Fast on his feet as always, Michael was back with the ice, but unable to find a towel, he brought a comfy beige bathrobe instead.

He sat nearby as Colleen worked to cool down Rob's body temperature, and Michael's memory jolted him back to events from only an hour early.

Rob's bass guitar was more than just the instrument he used as a musician. It was clearly some extension of himself, of his abilities as a Music Master.

And with it completely destroyed like this, there was the gnawing question in Michael's mind if his uncle might ever actually recover.

As he shifted back and forth from nerves, Michael held back any attempt to explain all of this to Colleen.

Besides thinking he was absolutely bonkers, she would probably just get angry at him for lying again. So as she calmed his uncle down, Michael didn't say a word.

Thoughts of the Nagataki siblings wandered into his mind. That Asian boy and his dead, uncaring stare, and his sister, with the gap in her teeth and that insufferably cocky attitude.

Though Rob had sufficiently calmed down now, Michael was beginning to realize that perhaps Kim's training wasn't enough.

Colleen must have been feeling bad about the whole situation, because she was more understanding in her next statement.

"Why don't you go lay down for a bit? Looks like there's a spare bedroom by the studio. I'll keep watch here." she suggested, feeling Rob's temperature again with the palm of her hand. He was still warm, but at least he wasn't thrashing.

"You sure? I mean, I'm fine." Michael replied, and it was now that Colleen became serious again.

"Get it while you can. Because when this is all done, you're going to tell me exactly what happened tonight, or you're not leaving your room until the New Year."

The threat was obvious, even for the normally dense Michael. He nodded.

"Yeah, sure Colleen." he promised, before turning tail and leaving the living room.

When Michael was gone, Colleen simply rubbed her forehead with her fingers. She had close to no idea what was happening, and somehow, she still hadn't throttled Michael yet.

She looked back at Rob, now more peaceful in his rest.

Maybe some of his infamous patience had rubbed off on her after all.

-----

Michael Kay stood at the foot of this particular king-size bed for more than two minutes before he realized he wasn't actually going to sleep.

Instead, he had wandered to the studio Colleen had mentioned as quietly as possible.

Wearing one of his old white t-shirts, since his tie dye one was stuck in the wash on account of blood, Michael found himself marveling at the large sound studio located behind what seemed like an innocuous door.

This place had everything. Soundproof panels to keep the noise in, instruments of every kind lining the walls from didgeridoos to sitars, and plenty of furnishings from the recording room to the lounge outside and beyond.

But what Michael was most interested in was the space. There was at least a good ten feet up to the ceiling, and the lounge area outside the recording space had a polished wood floor.

Michael kicked his shoes off, realizing with the bars nearby that someone had danced here once upon a time.

Stretching his arms, Michael felt the sting of pain from the wound in his shoulder in particular.

He ignored it though, as he scrolled through his music player.

If he wasn't going to sleep, then he'd do something far more useful with his time.

It took a few minutes of deliberation, but Michael found the song of choice. Reflected back in his eyes was the image of five young brothers, with glowing teeth, pleasant features, and afros nearly identical to his own.

Michael closed his eyes and exhaled, allowing himself to Harmonize with this new song.

A few seconds later, and silver reflections of light bounced all across the darkness of the previously unlit sound studio.

It was like someone had shined a light through the surface of a disco ball itself. Michael's skin illuminated the darkness with a metallic, turquoise sheen.

If he had a mouth anymore, he would have smiled.

Tonight was going to make dance club look like a walk in the park.

And the Nagataki siblings, if they showed their faces again, wouldn't know what hit them.

Fast forward to the next track...

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

-----

-----

RETURN OF THE SPACE COWBOY: PART ONE

-----

Ricky had finished locking up the store up for the night, and yet he was still wracked with nerves.  

Those lights he didn't shut off manually were simply shorted out from years of disrepair, and on the outside, Semi-Sound looked as good as closed.

In the back of the used guitar section, he waited behind the counter, brown skin taut on his face, and eyes bloodshot from severe lack of sleep.

He scratched his scraggly goatee as a nervous gesture. It wasn't every day that he met an old friend like this, after all. Especially considering exactly who this old friend was.

Per the request texted to him, Semi-Sound was completely empty and all doors were locked, save for a single back door entrance hidden behind the alley coming off of 110th Street.

Business-wise, closing early like this on a Tuesday night wasn't going to hurt Ricky very much.

Because ever since Audio Empire had sprouted up years ago, he'd been steadily losing more and more customers as time went on.

These days, only his loyalists and those interested in other dealings like this old friend came around anymore.

It was another few minutes before Ricky finally heard the creaking noise of the back door opening. Ricky's heart bounced against his chest. He hadn't seen this man in over six years, so on some level, he didn't know what to expect.

Unfortunately, paranoid thoughts swarmed in his brain nevertheless.

He doesn't know.

The thought kept scratching at his mind as his guest entered slowly through the back of the store. His steps were heavy and methodical.

There's no freaking way he would know. Nobody would snitch on me.

Ricky had to stop himself from biting his fingernails. This was the worst time for him to show such obvious weakness.

But a moment later, his old friend stepped into view.

"I see this place hasn't changed a day. Even that lousy back door still sounds the same." he pointed out in a calm, low tone of voice.

Ricky's expression changed from one of anxiety to his best face of joy. He opened his arms wide and smiled through missing teeth.

"Rob, my man! You been gone way too long!" he exclaimed.

Their hug was brief, and on Ricky's end, very forced. When it was over, he scanned his old friend from head to toe.

The years had been kind to Rob, though he still wore the same wide-brimmed, dark green baseball cap that Ricky remembered him wearing when he was just seventeen years of age.

There was but a hint of wrinkle starting to show on his face, but for a man in his late 30's, he seemed as in good shape as ever.

Dressed in a nice shirt, black pants, and dependable sneakers, Rob's bass guitar remained at home in the black case slung over his right shoulder.

The bass player stood silent for a few moments, hands in his pockets, and it was during that time that Ricky realized that'd he forgotten how much taller than him Rob had always been. Intimidation quickly began to set it.

So naturally, he belted out small talk like a cornered loan shark. "So I heard you were touring a bit in Europe for awhile. You play any big cities?"

Rob seemed content with looking up at the instruments on the racks above Ricky as they conversed.

"A few. You know me, I've never been one for the crowds. The low-key clubs are more my style."

"Yeah man." Ricky replied, oozing self-assurance now. "That's why this place still stands. Low-key is my motto here. Won't have none of that mainstream BS in my shop.  Leave that crap at Audio Empire."

Rob had seen literal gray mold growing on the walls when he'd come in through the back.  The lights look like they had been raided, and truthfully, Semi-Sound's selection of music and instruments was subpar at best.  The store had certainly seen better days.

Ricky had always been a terrible liar.  Fortunately for him, the state of the store wasn't at all important to Rob right now.

"So what's the news on the block?" Rob asked, shifting from relaxed to serious in an instant.

Ricky on the other hand, now seemed right at home dispensing information, lighting up a cig as he did so.

"Nothin' too crazy. Zero Beat mostly stays out the old neighborhood."

He inhaled for a moment, blowing smoke up in the air as his eyes widened from another thought.

"I heard one thing though. There was some trouble in that old skate park your friend Lex used to go to. Apparently, some First Beats got bopped by two fresh ones."

"Doesn't really sound like news to me." Rob declared. "There's always new Music Masters. And if they're lucky, Zero Beat doesn't find out about them."

Ricky smiled through his teeth again. Years of heavy smoking and dental neglect showed most of them were either yellow or missing. "Ah, but you'll like this part. Word on the street is that one of the freshies was using disco tunes. The kid had the whole nine-yards; tie-dye clothes, big afro, the works."

At the sound of those words, Rob's cool demeanor snapped.

Like a floodgate breaking, memories of his only nephew Michael broke into his mind space.

Rob was suddenly anxious, panicked even. "Who's the kid? You got info on a name?"

Of course, Ricky always seemed to know more than he let on. And there was always a price to pay for information as far as he was concerned.

But for old times sakes, he just gave Rob what he wanted this time.

Maybe it was because in the grand scheme of things, none of it was going to matter for Rob soon enough.

"It was Mikey or something like that. Isn't that your little nephew's name? I feel like I seen him around in the old neighborhood once or twice." he asked, his tone of voice was so subtly mocking.

That seemed to be enough for Rob. His panic from before seemed to vanish in an instant.

"Thanks. We'll be in touch, Ricky." Rob assured, stone-faced now.

Clearly, the previous air of camaraderie was all but gone.

Rob was already texting on his phone quickly with one hand as he left out the back door.

He made sure to check the alleyway before he got too ahead of himself.

Considering that Ricky had proven to be untrustworthy in the past, Rob certainly wasn't taking any chances.

But being ambushed by Zero Beat or any of their hired Music Masters was the last thing Rob was worried about. He had his bass, and little did Zero Beat know that he was Synkronized with it too.

What truly scared Rob, was the mere thought that Michael was known in any fashion by Zero Beat. It was like everything Rob had done for the last ten years was falling apart in front of him.

He still heard the angry echoes of Colleen's voice in his head. He could still feel her push him roughly and curse him for ruining her life. He could still see the unaware smile on Michael's face as he left for the last time, never to return.

It was all for their own good, to keep them out of Zero Beat's eye, but that didn't make any of it easier.

As one of the former Audio Knights, he'd had no other choice.

Even now, the memories still made him lose sleep from time to time.

Rob waited by the bus stop, the cold city air blowing his cap brim up, and his only solace being the music now playing in his ears.

He hoped to hear from Colleen soon, and now that he was sure Michael was the disco-using Music Master being talked about, the bass player was practically banking on Ricky getting the word out on Rob's return.

If he'd been twenty years younger, he might have smirked at all the attention he was about to get.

In the 90's club scene he frequented, Lex used to always call him Space Cowboy every time he needed a wingman. It was a dumb nickname that seemed to follow Rob all throughout his life.

But for once, he was going to embrace it. Today was going to mark the return of the space cowboy.

Because if that's what Zero Beat needed to forget about Michael Kay, then some return it was going to be.

-----

-----

Some days later and more than half a world away, in the land of the rising sun, two people were locked in a fierce battle of technique.

Or locked head to head in a video game, to be more precise.

And in this particular game, loud cheering and colored neon lights were among some of the most distracting things to any aspiring player.

To just keep up with anything on Heavy difficulty would take a thick layer of sweat, high altitude oxygen training, and eventual numbness in the legs.

Yet still Nami made it look so incredibly easy. While she stepped to and fro with calculated grace, her male opponent could barely hold back his panting and frenzied stomps.

On nights like these, when Nami felt like showing off, the machines in this section of the Shori-Platinum arcade were practically surrounded with onlookers.

One of the arcade's announcer girls was busy enthusiastically shout-casting the match, which only attracted more people in from the Akihabara street side to see what all the commotion was about.

Nami smiled to herself with satisfaction as she continued to dance, though it certainly wasn't because of all the attention she was getting.  Even the music itself was so inconsequential to her.

-----

-----

All she could focus on was the score on screen, where not even a multiplier of three or four could save her opponent from Nami's staggering lead.

It was still thirty seconds before the end of the stage, yet as the tempo of the song rose, Nami seemed no closer to tiring. The crowd was silent now, and Nami made sure in this moment to shoot her opponent a mocking smirk.

Unfortunately for this bespectacled boy, that was the breaking point. At the ten second to zero mark, his feet crossed, and he tripped back as he missed all of the last twenty-six steps.

The song hit a crescendo, but like many of these trance hits, it was all over in the next few seconds. As the the game's artificial voice displayed Nami's victory, the crowd went wild.

She flipped her long, blue-black hair back, stepping off the dance pad as Japanese children, teens and adults alike screamed adorations. As always, Nami ignored them all, much more concerned on her win than she was in anything as simply as recognition.

As she muted the numerous fans in her mind, she counted each step she could have hit that much faster. Even a slight below perfection was still failure to her.

"Nami-san! Please sign this for me!"

Ignored was the heavyset teen who proudly held onto a huge pillow bearing an animated likeness of her.

"I want to dance like you so much, Nami-san! Please teach me!"

Ignored was the young pig-tailed grade schooler who looked at Nami with starstruck eyes.

"Nami-san! Our agency is hiring! Please come down! You would be hit overnight!"

Ignored were the two young, beautiful male idols who had asked her of the same request more than once in the past.

They all continued to remain perpetually ignored, as Nami felt the slight rumble in her stomach.

Even she couldn't withstand the pang of hunger after over two hours of breaking challengers at her best game.

As she nearly approached the entrance to the arcade however, a nicely dressed, older man with glasses seemed to stand right in her way.

"You're very good." he remarked, though it seemed he was going to be ignored just as easily. Nami gave him no response as she checked the online leader-boards.

She was still at the top, with a good four thousand point lead over second place in all Heavy difficulty songs. Giddiness came over her. There was no feeling like being the best.

But this man had been observing Nami for awhile now, and he'd quickly figured out how she operated. He wasn't going to be ignored this time.

"But you could be better. You were a little slow, here and there." he pointed out so casually, before a few close onlookers gasped at his words.

Nami stopped checking her phone in that instant. She turned as quick as a viper, her tone just as accusing.

"Idiot. What do you know?"

He smiled, satisfied now that he had her attention. "You think you're perfect. They think you're perfect. But we both know that you're just a big koi in a very small pond."

Nami stood right up against him now as if challenging him. He had a good foot and half height advantage on her, and now she was close enough that he was able to breathe in her appearance once again.

Nami's long blue-black hair flowed and curved out right down to her waist. She was dressed in a white shoulder-less top, a magenta short skirt, and knee-high Gogo boots.

She blinked her long eyelashes and narrowed her sharp green eyes at the sight of this critic. Nami held back her grimace though, lest he notice the gap between her front teeth; the only thing Nami remained sensitive about.

"What are you getting at? I don't like my time being wasted." she pestered.

"We're just very interested in you. So much untapped potential. You belong in a bigger stage than this."

"And what agency are you with?" she now demanded to know.

But the older man seemed content with implying he knew much more about her than he let on.

"I'm with a...different kind of agency. The kind of agency that knows what you do with your music when no one's looking."

Nami's eyes widened, and this was enough to break her uncaring persona. This man was far from finished however.

"But don't worry. I'm not here to oust you. In fact, how about we discuss it all over dinner? Doesn't that sound agreeable?"

Now that he played his hand, it seemed that Nami actually thought about going with him.

Though people would talk over a teenager like her out with a man clearly into his 50's, this could be a serious opportunity for her in the making.

Being better than the best? Now that was something she was interested in.

"Don't look so surprised." he continued. "You can dance well, and you look good doing it. I wonder, can you sing too? My agency is always interested in a diverse set of exceptional skills."

He waited eagerly now for a response. And Nami was just about ready to answer, when next to the older Japanese man, a face she really didn't want to see at this perfect moment pushed his way through.

He was cold in both expression and tone, face somewhat obscured by tangled blue-black hair.

"Excuse me. She has another engagement."

He didn't even look the older man in the eye, instead opting to grab Nami by the arm and literally pull her along and out of the arcade.

Somewhat taken aback, the older man still didn't move an inch. He doubted this would be the last time he saw Nami Nagataki, after all.  He would always be just a shadow's length away as long as the Ensemble needed.

As her brother led her away, Nami struggled, but as always Arashi's grip was much stronger.

"Hey! Let go of me! I was talking!" she protested, but he ignored her as he led them towards the same ramen shop that Nami often went to after long nights at Shori-Platinum.

Her older brother remained silent as they entered the shop. He nodded at the cook who regularly served Nami's favorite shio bowl, and they sat down at a booth.

Despite the gesture though, Nami's arms remained crossed as she refused to look at him, clearly annoyed.

Her brother's expression, on the other hand, seemed unknown underneath his thick sunglasses.

He clasped both hands together on the table as he spoke.

"Do you understand how much time you waste at that place?"

Nami didn't respond. She pouted as she continued to stare out the window, her attention caught by street lights.

"Nami." he repeated, just a hint of anger in his voice now. "Can you be serious, for once?"

Now he had her attention. She practically shouted back in response.

"I am serious! Do you know how many of those losers show up, thinking they can beat me? I never count! It never matters how many there are! Because I always win!"

As they argued, a waiter came by and silently brought her order. She stared down at the pool of salty, juicy ramen, but even the aroma wasn't enough to calm her down.

"I just don't want to see you waste your talent on a game. And that man from before? He's just interested in using you. Do you really want to end up singing childish songs and posing for otaku?" he asked her, more sincerely now.

Nami finally seemed to relent to her hunger, her chopsticks inching towards a piece of cooked egg. She took a quick bite, replying with her mouth full.

"For your information, he wasn't with an idol agency. But he knew about me. About what we are."

Arashi's eyebrows narrowed with sudden concern. "I'll look into it. For now, I need you to stay out of Shori-Platinum for a little while."

She almost spit out her food. "What!? That's not fair! I didn't do anything! He was following me!"

"Nami!" he cut her off, voice now louder and sterner. "I need you to listen to me. There's a big opportunity for us on the horizon. One that will finally get God Symphony off our backs for good."

He pulled out his phone, scrolling for a moment as he searched for the image in question. Nami just noisily slurped up noodles as she waited for her brother to find what he was looking for. It took a lot for him to have any sort of emotional outburst, considering how much Nami seemed to test his patience on a constant basis.

A moment later, and he put his phone right in front of Nami's face. She blinked, focusing on the image in question.

"I don't get it. Who's he?" she asked, which seemed to only frustrate her brother as he sighed.

"He's a Trackmaster wanted by Zero Beat. And he's been wanted since 1993, to be exact."

Nami blinked as she processed information. Then, she understood.

"Wait. You don't mean...?"

In his most serious gesture of the night, his free hand went for his sunglasses.

Finally revealing his eyes, anyone could see that these two were obviously brother and sister. Arashi's face had similar fair looks, though he seemed immune to the concept of smiling or frowning.

"I do. Tomorrow, we're going to Minato to meet with Zero Beat.  One way or another, we're going to bring him in." he declared, pulling his phone away.

Arashi scanned the image one more time, noting the person in question. A man in his late 30's, he seemed unassuming, his face hidden under a dark green cap. The picture captured him right in the moment, looking from side to side on a city street corner. On his back, he held what Arashi presumed was a case for his guitar.

"You really think they're going to pay for us to go to overseas for some American?" Nami pointed out, before picking up her bowl and finishing off the rest of her soup.

"He's not just some American. He calls himself Rob Prototype." Arashi explained, trying to absorb any information he could from the image in front of him.

"And apparently, he's a bass player."

Fast forward to the next track...

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

-----

-----

WHITE KNUCKLE RIDE: PART SEVEN

-----

It had been her first Friday night off in over a month, but for Colleen Kay, some splinter in the back of her mind was stopping her from fully enjoying it.

The heat had kicked in and she had covered herself up with a warm blanket on the couch, and yet still she couldn't focus. Colleen shuffled around, trying to get more comfortable as she focused her eyes back on the pages of this particular romance novel.

But as she tried to read, the words just seemed to melt off the page.

Her ears perked up.  Now she realized exactly what was bothering her.

For whatever reason, there was no booming music coming from Michael's room. The apartment was so silent, and she knew for a fact he had come straight home after school. Unsure of what to do with herself, Colleen looked around, then back down at her book.

She sighed heavily in the next moment, throwing her book to one side of the couch in frustration.

It dawned on her just how used to Michael's loud music she had become, and just how empty everything felt without it.

Colleen leaned back, her black hair falling to one side as she momentarily stared up at the ceiling.

"Hey Mike." she called out loudly, though not moving an inch. "You okay in there?"

No answer.

Colleen sat up, and in a few strides she was at Michael's door. His enormous poster of the Bee Gees seemed to serve as impromptu doormen as she debated knocking first.

It was a short debate. Colleen slowly opened Michael door, and was met with the sight of him sitting cross-legged on his shag rug.

His back was facing her and he was completely silent, save for the faint sound of music coming from his headphones. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and clearly Colleen could see a sheen of sweat that could only have come from strenuous exercise.

Colleen was a moment away from apologizing for bothering him in what looked like a private moment, when Michael's whole body gyrated in one smooth motion. With all the grace of a gymnast, he flipped himself onto one arm, eyes still closed as he focused on his music and nothing else.

Despite how lazy she'd often seen her brother act, his abdomen didn't quiver for a moment as he kept the handstand. Michael now blinked, noticing her and smiling wide in response.

"Oh hey Colleen!" he exclaimed, before pushing back with all his might. With a quick back flip, he was back on his feet.

"What's up?" he then asked, stretching his arms up high as he exhaled from the previous strain.

"Didn't mean to bother you.  You working out for dance club again this year?"

Michael's mind fizzled for a moment, delaying his response.

"Dance club..." he said sort of flatly, only to catch himself a moment later.

"Yeah! Dance club, of course! I can't be slacking on dancing. I mean, it's like the only thing I'm good at."

Colleen smiled before messing with his hair. "That and being a real pain in the butt. But it's nice to see you doing something else besides being holed up in your room, little brother."

Colleen's nose twitched uncomfortably once she picked up the general scent of his room.

Even he wasn't so oblivious to not know what she was thinking.

Michael grinned. "Probably need a shower, don't I?"

"You think?" she replied, heading back out the door as he closed it behind her. He heard her yell from outside though as he searched his room for a serviceable towel.

"Try not to be out too late tonight, Mike!"

Michael was only half-listening at this point.

"No worries, Colleen." he replied, though probably not loud enough for her to hear him.

With the towel hung over his shoulder, he grinned to himself at the thought of his recent success.

For the past hour he'd had Canned Heat on constant loop, and not once did his subconscious tap into the song effect, even when his mind wandered aimlessly while he practiced his dancing.

It had been one month since Kim had caught Calvin tailing them in Central Park. From their few training sessions, with Aeris still showing up to watch, Kim had made it abundantly clear to Michael that he was still awful in a fight.

As Michael stepped out of his room and into the shower, he mentally recounted the events of the past few weeks.

The cool warm water shrunk his afro into curls with its spray.

Even after texting him twice, Michael was once again reminded that he hadn't heard from Calvin since they'd last seen each other in September.

Whatever Last Record was, Michael still had no clue. And Kim had proven to be no help as well, since she either avoided the question or simply didn't know the few times he had asked her about it.

Michael winced as the water hit his inner thigh, reminding him of the nasty bruise he'd gained from messing up a handstand.

He'd gotten better, but every time Michael went up against Kim during training, it seemed like it was never enough.

He put a hand against the porcelain tile wall, letting the soothing water run down his back. He didn't even want to begin to think about what would happen if Aeris decided to show everyone what she could really do. More than anything, Michael Kay didn't want to be the group embarrassment in all this.

A few minutes later, Michael's shower was done, and he went about the usual ritual of drying out his impressive orb of hair. He glanced at his phone more than once as he inspected himself in the mirror.

Any hope of it buzzing with a response from Calvin was dashed quickly though.

Annoyance building, Michael's mind slipped as he forgot where he'd left his hair pick. He rummaged through the counter drawers, some of which clearly hadn't been opened in years.

Finally, Michael spotted the elusive orange implement. Grabbing it impatiently, he was almost so fast about it that he didn't notice a dusty set of photos underneath.

MIchael's eyes widened in an instant. He snatched them up, scanning them like they were classified information.

One was of Colleen when she looked about his age, clad in a green cardigan and her expression making it seem like she didn't have a care in the world.

The second showed two people he didn't recognize; a young woman with mocha skin and long, curly hair, and a young beanie-wearing man who sported a small mustache.

But it was the last picture that mattered the most. It was both of those people, but between them stood Rob, his cap pulled down, bass guitar case slung over his shoulder, and a surprisingly calm smile on his face.

They were standing right outside the door of a lit nightclub, one that Michael vaguely remembered passing by with his uncle at some point in the distant past.

The photo was an old Polaroid, and written at the bottom was a date and a few words.

Jamiroquai at the Supper Club

NYC, 8/22/1993

That would have been cool enough, but what really caught Michael was the two words below that. They were simple, seemingly innocuous, but they stuck in his mind in an instant. He spoke them out loud.

"...Audio Knights."

It was like hearing the words Last Record all over again. His mind couldn't take the unknown implications. Then the obvious hit him like an oncoming train.

Could Rob have been a Music Master too?

Michael wanted to punch himself for not realizing the notion sooner. How could he have been so blind?  It all made so much sense now.

A mixture of excitement and impatience washed over Michael Kay. Ignoring his hair for the moment, he instead grabbed for his phone, beginning to text furiously.

He wondered if he was going to regret this. Kim wasn't going to be happy, but he was more anxious than he was afraid of the consequences.

Sending the dreaded triple text, Michael set his phone down, went back to his hair, and hoped for the best.

-----

Her fist slammed square into his jaw, and Michael slid back as he struggled to stay standing from both the impact and the pain. Canned Heat flared hot on his heels, singing the rock below.

"You sure you're not enjoying this too much, Kim?" Aeris remarked as she watched the two of them spar, legs curled up to her chest to help warm her from the cold night.

Kim simply cracked her knuckles as she allowed Michael a moment respite. "After four weeks of the same thing? I wish I could say I was."

"Hey, that was a cheap shot!" Michael argued, before surging forward with a burst of Canned Heat. Unfortunately for him, his frustration caused him to forget his surroundings.

He made it about four feet before one of Walking Disaster's hydra-arms grabbed onto his leg and threw him to one side.

Kim just crossed her arms in response. "What do I keep telling you? There are no cheap shots."

Thrown by the arm, Michael flailed wildly towards Aeris. Luckily for her, he'd gone through this more than once now.  He was just a mere two feet from her before he  was able to just barely land on one arm, transitioning into a handstand and then back upright.

"Now that's what I like to see. Less complaining, and more of that." Kim remarked, before she willed the clawed arms to surge around her like striking serpents bent on the attack.

Finally though, it seemed the hours of working on his reflexes and dancing seemed to pay off for Michael Kay. He spun around with the beat of his song, dodging grasping purple claws in the process. Some came from the front, and Michael quickly moonwalked a few steps back just out of their reach. When they came from the side, he did the limbo to slide right under without even breaking a sweat.

And in that perfect moment, when all six of Kim's summoned hydra-arms were jumbled together like a canopy, he focused everything into his right hand. A beam of red-orange thermal light sliced through all six in one destructive motion, as Michael rolled underneath, stopping right in front of Kim.

His hand was right above her chest, still pulsing with heat, as her musical constructs fell apart behind him and dissipated into nothingness.

Kim was speechless for the moment, but Aeris, not so much.

"Now that's how it's done!  Way to go, Michael!" she cheered excitedly. Smiling in response, Michael moved his hand away from Kim's front, and for once, even she seemed somewhat impressed.

"Huh. Not bad." she said simply, cracking a slight smile. And once he heard clapping, Michael's smile just grew that much wider.

Unfortunately, any hint of happiness on Kim's face sank beneath the ocean once Michael's one-man audience began to speak.

"Not bad? Really, Kim, you give Mike here so little credit. That was a veritable stomping if I've ever seen one." Calvin said plainly as he now stood right beside Aeris. He smirked with the same smug look that Kim remembered from four weeks ago, which only ignited her anger at his mere presence further.

"I'll show you a stomping!  You don't listen very well, do you?" she growled with fury, going headlong for Calvin.

Michael was quick to put his non-heated hand on her shoulder though, speaking quickly lest she lash out.

"Hey, cool it for a second!  I invited him."

Kim turned, her growl directed at Michael. "You what?"

Calvin interjected though, his tone lowering to his best mediator voice.

"Relax, I didn't come here to start a fight. Mike asked me to come, so I came."

Calvin addressed Michael now, his tone apologetic. "My bad for missing your texts. I had some phone issues."

Of course, the truth couldn't have been further. By ignoring him all these weeks, Calvin had pretty much guaranteed that Michael's impatience would get the better of him.  Because of that, he had gained his opportunity to squeeze into their little group.

"No worries." Michael said, though he could still feel the tension on Kim's shoulder. "There's some stuff I still wanted to ask you about anyway."

Calvin put one finger in the air, feigning his memory just coming back to him.

"Last Record, right!" he quipped, snapping his fingers. "Well, I'm here now, and I'll be happy to stick around."

Kim still continued to shoot her death glare straight at him however, but Calvin looked down at Aeris instead.

He smiled. "That is, if I'm wanted here."

Finally speaking, Aeris seemed oddly comfortable with the whole situation.

"I mean, is it really that big of a deal?" she asked innocently. Part of her just wanted to stop the fire before it started, but another part of her wanted Calvin to stay. For what reason, perhaps even she didn't want to admit that to herself.

Kim was clearly surrounded. She prepared to bark a nasty response, until she looked back at Michael and he cued those sad eyes and that somewhat unsure smile. Though her expression didn't immediately change, it was at that point that she instantly saw Seth in him yet again.

Who was she kidding?

She had seen her older brother in him since day one.

Otherwise, she would have beat him into the dust when they first fought in that back alley. And she certainly wouldn't have offered to teach him like this. She was using her valuable time on this afro-headed idiot and clueless country girl, and now Michael wanted to add this obvious con artist to the mix?

Michael's expression still didn't change though, and his tone of voice was as welcoming as always.

"Come on, Kim. Can you let it go, just this once?"

The tension dissipated as Kim's anger began to subside. She smirked back at Calvin, rubbing her chin as she realized that the least she could do was take advantage of the situation.

"Okay." she began. "You can stay."

Calvin nodded, unsurprised. "I appreciate it. So Mike, about Last Record, let me tell y-"

"On one condition." Kim added, much to everyone's surprise. She stepped aside, her hand out towards Michael as she allowed him a path to pass across the rock face.

"Let's see how you do against Afroboy here. Maybe he can wipe that smug look off your face for me."

Calvin, for once, was a bit taken aback. Did she seriously think that this guy would even so much as touch him?

Nevertheless, he did have an audience now. This was his chance to make that good first impression.  

Meanwhile, Michael seemed instantly disappointed.  If this was the only way to get Calvin to stay, then it seemed Last Record would have to wait.

"Alright." Calvin agreed, rotating one shoulder as he whipped out his music player. "If that's what it takes."

With a click, he had his song of choice going. And for once, Michael recognized it. The synthesized noise reverberated in the air, its lyrics ever so catchy as the neon effect formed around Calvin's outstretched hand.

-----

-----

They were but two-dimensional squares, though they came in all sorts of bright colors and each one pulsed to the beat of his music. As Daft Punk's Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger swarmed around his palm, Calvin just bled confidence in both his posture and expression.

"Make me proud, Michael." Kim suggested, patting him hard on the back as he activated Canned Heat. His heels flared up, but Calvin didn't seem too worried. He addressed Aeris one more time with a wink.

"Wish me luck."

She didn't say a word, but it was becoming increasingly obvious by the smile that crept up on her face that there might be something just a little charming in those blue eyes of his.

Both Michael and Calvin dashed forward, and Kim was quick to make it to the safety of where Aeris was watching, as red-orange heat and colored cubes roamed in the night air with reckless abandon.

The punk girl didn't say a word, but Kim couldn't hide herself this time. On her face was a relaxed, somewhat carefree expression that seemed so unlike her. For the moment, she wasn't pissed, or angry, or even annoyed.

Aeris smirked to herself at the sight. Unfortunately for her, Aeris let out a stifled laugh.

"I heard that." Kim murmured, though her expression didn't change.

"Sorry. It's just nice to see you like this." Aeris observed, watching the fight continue to unfold. Though Michael was fast, especially with Canned Heat, it seemed there was more to Calvin than he let on. He moved with surprising grace, almost like he was used to it all.

"Don't get used to it." Kim was quick to point out, though her tone said otherwise. "My money's on Afroboy, by the way."

Aeris didn't respond this time, and Kim left it at that. She noted the twinkle in her eye as the blond girl focused on Calvin in particular.

Nevertheless, for the first time in a long time, Kim just let it be.

And if she didn't know any better, when she watched Michael flash a grin as he deftly dodged Calvin's projectiles, she almost thought she saw Seth.

It was a strange, but comforting thought.

And for once, comfort was all Kim Ramone needed right now.

-----

For Renaldo, there were few things scarier than being in a Symphon waiting room and to be constantly glared at by the First Beat on reception duty.

But at least Helia was elsewhere.

He sat alone in a pristine white chair, with nothing more than a small table and other empty seats to keep him company. With both hands clasped together, he could do nothing more than wait.

They had failed in their task to retrieve Kim Ramone, but worse still, he had chickened out at he last second. By now, Renaldo had resigned to his fate, and knew for a fact that Helia was going throw him under the bus for everything. He was her trainee after all, it only made sense.

Renaldo could only pray silently as he hoped that the worst thing to happen to him today would be nothing more than Helia verbally abusing him as usual.

Meanwhile, just a short walk and a few doors down, Helia sat in a dimly lit room, having just finished giving her report.

Her superior liked it dark, and so his face was all but hidden. A loud squawk erupted from his direction, as a crow ruffled its wings on his shoulder.

He finally spoke, having been listening intently for five minutes straight.

"So that's everything then?"

His voice was like velvet, but there was a sinister quality to it that made even Helia visibly uncomfortable.

"Yes." she repeated. "Everything."

He laughed. "You know, most First Beats don't just admit to failure."

"I would have stayed and finished the job." she clarified again, though there was shakiness clearly in her voice.  She debated blaming Renaldo again, but something told her that might not be too smart in this situation.

"I'm sure you would have. Fortunately for the both of you, it turns out something useful came out of it all. The boy with the afro you mentioned is of particular interest."

"He was using disco music. He's clueless though. I can't imagine there's anything to worry about."

The man just laughed, spreading his arms out on his desk. Black and red-stoned rings were present on his fingers, and a large amulet of unknown origin hung down from his neck.

His crow squawked again with what seemed like impatience.

"You're right. For you, at this moment, there's nothing to worry about." he continued, his threat just so thinly veiled.

"But for this Music Master, it's a different story. We all remember Last Record after all.  Quite a tragedy it was."

Helia's heart was now practically in her throat. Renaldo was lucky to be waiting outside.

"O-Of course."

"And more importantly." he finished, his words coated with venom. "Because of that tragedy, we all know how Zero Beat feels about disco music.  There can be no exceptions."

Turning to his shoulder, he put on a mocking tone of sorrow, rubbing on the belly of his crow with one ringed finger.

"What a poor, poor boy..."

-----

WHITE KNUCKLE RIDE:

END

-----

Fast forward to the next track...

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

-----

-----

WHITE KNUCKLE RIDE: PART SIX

-----

It was a blessing in disguise that Aeris had decided to show up early tonight.  Because judging from her attitude the other day, Kim probably would have chewed Michael Kay out like no tomorrow once they were alone together for even a second.

Michael counted himself so incredibly lucky as he spotted her sitting on a park bench.  He waved with excitement as he approached.

"I hope you weren't waiting here too long.  I try to be early because Kim says she'll make me do push ups if I'm late." he remarked.  Aeris just raised an eyebrow as she chuckled in response.

"Seriously?"

Michael grinned.  "Nah, I'm just kidding.  She's not that crazy."

In truth, he actually wasn't sure what the consequence for being late was.  He was probably better off not knowing.

Aeris stood up from the bench, her usual checkered blazer replaced with a much heavier dark blue winter jacket.  She shivered a bit from the cold.

"Sorry, not really used to this weather.  Where's your friend Kim by the way?" she asked innocently, hands now stuffed in her pockets.

Michael looked around, now wondering the same thing.  "I'm not really sure.  I was expecting her to be waiting for me here.  You know, because I disobeyed direct orders or whatever."

The blonde's gaze switched to rock formation up above.  Her tone of voice seemed so pleasant.

"Maybe something came up.  We might as well use the time without her while we have it.  You did say you wanted to show me your songs, right?"

Michael perked up.  "Yeah, totally!"

Together, Michael and Aeris made their way up the rock formation.  To Michael, it was a bit of a surprise nobody really hung around Central Park on nights like this.  He could only guess that the recent drop in temperature this early in September was probably the cause for the emptiness.  

Once they made it to the summit, Aeris took a moment to look out at the view.  She smiled to herself.

"There's kind of timeless quality about the city, you know.  It's so different than countryside.  I seen that stuff all the time, so it gets old.  But all these lights and this noise, I don't know, it's got its charm."

"You said you were from Texas right?  I wouldn't know what that's like.  I haven't been a step out of this city my whole life." Michael replied, stretching for a moment before reaching for his headphones.  

He was just about to put them in when he noticed the expression of calm on Aeris's face.  In that brief moment she looked so at peace with the world.  It was then that an idea he hadn't realized before popped into his head.

"Hey." he began, coming up right behind her.  "Why don't you show me one of your songs?  I mean, I don't even know what kind of music you like."

Aeris looked down, clearly uncomfortable now.  "I don't think that's such a good idea.  You wouldn't like my music very much."

Michael's expression became dour.  "Who cares if I like it or not?  I'm barely a week in as a Music Master.  The more stuff I can see, the better.  Kim says it'll help me prepare for the unexpected anyway."

He smiled again, sitting down on the rocky ground with legs crossed.  Leaning back, it was clear to Aeris he wasn't taking no for an answer.

"Just before Kim gets here at least.  I get the feeling your music's gonna blow us all away."

Not saying a word, Aeris reached for the small light blue music player in her left pocket.  She stared down at the device, a hint of longing in her eyes.  Inside this tiny player were uncountable musical memories of her childhood.  Just one song was enough to make her remember a picaresque sunny afternoon, and the taste of her grandmother's crisp, perfectly squeezed lemonade.

But in the same fashion, it made her remember the first time she ever used a song effect.  She remembered the sound of glass shattering and the burning, most horrible pain she had ever felt in her entire life.  She might have allowed a tear to escape from the mere thought if not for Michael's presence.

Completely unaware of course, Michael just continued to wait patiently, and on some level Aeris didn't want to disappoint.  

Aeris couldn't keep making excuses forever.

She'd gotten better, and she certainly wasn't a child anymore.  She had to stop being so panicked like this.  She had to have control.

"Okay."  Aeris sighed, finally relenting to both Michael, and more importantly, herself.  

Michael grinned as wide as ever, clapping his hands together loudly.

"One song though.  And only one." she further clarified.

With that, Aeris pulled her sky blue headphones from her jacket pocket.  She gazed at them for a  moment in her black glove-covered palm.  To most people, they were just an instrument used to listen to music.  But to her, they were conduits to a very dangerous power.

Her song of choice was already in mind as she put in her headphones and scrolled through her music player.  Michael just silently looked on with excitement.

Exhaling, Aeris found what she was looking for and pressed play.

Unlike with Kim, the music wasn't easily apparent in the air.  It took Aeris more than two seconds to Harmonize, though she could only assume it was just nerves since she hadn't done it in so long.

Then, as Michael bit his nails in anticipation, he heard the opening drums clang into the air.

-----

-----

It was something so mellow compared to Kim's rough punk rock or Michael's own wild disco.  Aeris smiled wide to herself as she brought her arms to her side.  It took another moment, but Michael's eyes widened as cold blue lightning began to dance from her fingertips.  She looked at it with satisfaction, opening her palm as it surged and dove between her fingers.  

Finally, the lightning relaxed to her will, content with arcing itself just above her forearm.  

Michael simply clapped with contentment.  "Talk about selling yourself short.  That's so cool!"

He got up, intending to walk closer to get a better look, when Aeris spoke suddenly.

"Hey, watch it!  You have no idea how much this stuff hurts." she warned him, and luckily, he was smart enough to stop in his tracks.

Relief washed over her where there was but a moment of panic.  "Sorry, but I'm jumpy for your own good.  You do want to keep your crazy hair after all, right?"

Michael laughed in response.  "Uh, duh!  I couldn't imagine my life otherwise."

"No surprise there.  Anyway, check this out." she said, now crouching down so that she could easily put her hand just above the rock itself.  Aeris focused her senses, and as Michael watched, he could see the lightning from her palm begin to violently arc into the rock face below.  It was but mere seconds before it turned black and scorched.

Michael gulped as he surveyed the damage.  "Yikes.  I'd hate to think what that could do to a person."

"Me too.  I still have trouble controlling it even now." Aeris replied, pausing the song and watching as the lightning dissipated into nothingness.  "I know your friend Kim is nasty about it, but she has a point about this Music Master stuff.  It's super dangerous.  You have to understand that, Michael.  Those songs that normal people get to listen to without worrying about a thing?  For us, they can kill someone."

"I know, I know." Michael acknowledged, now just a little bit tired of hearing the same lecture yet again.  "That's why we're meeting up here on Fridays.  So that kind of thing doesn't happen.  At least, that's what Kim says."

Michael looked around again, and then towards the rocks they came up from.  Reminded of her again, he could see no sign of Kim Ramone anywhere.  Focusing his hearing, he couldn't even pick up the sound of any music she might be listening to.

"So does she usually take this long?" Aeris asked, her hands now back in the comfort of her warm jacket pockets.

"Maybe something really did come up." Michael commented, though he couldn't mask his uncertainty very well.

His heart rose up to his throat.  "I sure hope something came up."

-----

There was something undeniably creepy about this whole situation.  Even Calvin couldn't lie to himself about it.

Nevertheless, he still smiled with satisfaction as he swiped through the pictures on his phone.  There were a few of Michael and Kim, one of Michael using some heat-based song effect, and more than one of Aeris just sitting and waiting on the park bench.  

His original intention had been to observe Michael and Kim once he had figured out that they were both Music Masters.  Michael in particular seemed like an easy mark, much to Calvin's delight.

Aeris, on the other hand, would be a little something for later.  He smiled to himself as he admired her image on his phone.  There was something entrancing about the pure innocence on her face.

Having been sitting by himself in heavy bushes this whole time, Calvin had been so distracted with his tailing of Michael's small group and Aeris's beauty that he almost forgot a crucial fact.  

He looked up, his eyebrows raised as he suddenly wondered where Kim was in all this.  She was pretty hard to miss after all, and she was the last person he wanted to have any sort of confrontation with.  

Unfortunately for Calvin, it would be too late for him to notice that she was already much too close for comfort.

Just behind him, a long finger-nailed hand reached out through the brush in deathly silence.  Once it felt mass, it closed quick and hard.  Calvin yelped loudly as she pulled him back by the roots of his shaggy blond hair.  

He noisily tumbled out of his bushy hiding place, rolling to one side and wincing as he felt a scratch on the right side of his cheek.  Shaking himself, Calvin looked up and was met with sight of a none too happy Kim Ramone.

Not one to usually get scared easily, Calvin pulled out his best innocent bystander response.

"Hey, what gives?  That's the only place I can get Wi-Fi here!"

Kim didn't even respond.  She just gave him a cold, deadpan stare.  

Realizing the act wasn't working, Calvin quickly went from feigning annoyance to showing true fear.  He tried to put up his hands as Kim raised her combat boot.

"Wait, wait, wai-"

All it took was one hard stomp, and Calvin was seeing stars.

So much for a good first impression.

-----

After what felt like forever, Michael craned his neck quick as he spotted Kim finally making her way up the rock formation.  

And much to both his and Aeris's surprise, she was carrying someone he didn't recognize on her shoulder.

"Looks like Christmas came early everyone!" Kim exclaimed with fake jubilation, as she tossed the one hundred sixty pound teen off her and onto his back.  Both Michael and Aeris approached cautiously, though once they got close, it was clear that he was very much out for the count.

Aeris in particular leaned down and inspected his face.  She brushed some of his hair aside, noting scratches and the large red mark that could have only come from the bottom of Kim's boot.

Michael, of course, was immediately confused.  "Uh, Kim...who's this?"

She shrugged.  "I have no idea.  He's got no school ID or anything on him.  All I know is he's been following us since last week.  He could just be some creep, or he could be a First Beat.  Either way, I'm not taking any chances."

Whoever this stranger was, he was dressed quite nicely for a supposed teenager.  His matching dress pants and suit jacket were both a dark, deep blue, contrasting with a black undershirt emblazoned with a bright yellow design.  Michael's gaze in particular wandered towards his shoes, which clearly stood out with their neon green color scheme.

"Don't you think stepping on his face was a little excessive?" Aeris asked, but of course, Kim just laughed in response.

"Ha!  I don't think so.  But if he tries anything funny once he comes to, then I'll show him excessive."

As if right on cue, Calvin began to stir.  Aeris blinked, and as his eyes creaked open, he was met with the pleasant sight of her staring down at him.  Even in the grogginess that accompanied being woken up from a knockout, he still had enough time for a one-liner.

"The things I'd do to wake up to that face more often." he remarked with a light laugh.  Blushing almost immediately, Aeris was quick to stand up and turn away.   Kim remained completely unfazed however, proceeding to drop her boot hard on his right leg.

Calvin cried out, now remembering his situation.  Instinctively, one of his free hands went for his music player, but Kim was quick to beat him to the punch.

"Don't even bother." she said flatly, patting her pocket where his music player was nestled while also displaying his neon red and green headphones in her hand.  

"Make this easy for yourself.  Tell Zero Beat to leave us the hell alone, and maybe I'll think about sending you back to them with most of your teeth intact."

A million thoughts ran through Calvin's mind in a situation like this.  It was nothing new though.  He had been in tight spots before, against people much more willing to use deadly force than this Kim character.

And once Zero Beat was brought up, he knew in an instant he could use that to his advantage.  Calvin held back his wincing as he put on his smoothest tone of voice.

"It's never good to have Zero Beat after you, that's for sure.  Luckily, I don't run with that crowd."

"Then what crowd do you run with?" Aeris asked quickly, but Calvin did little more than smirk.  "Why were you spying on us?"

Michael looked back and forth and both Kim and Aeris.  Tensions were running a bit high now, and even if this guy was with Zero Beat, perhaps even Kim was going a little overboard.  Michael crouched down, forearms resting on his legs as he hoped to be as non-threatening as possible.

Unfortunately for him, that's exactly what Calvin was hoping for.

"Me?  Spy?  Why, I'm flattered."

"Hey." Michael interjected.  "We're not going to hurt you."

Kim raised an eyebrow, but even still kept a modicum of pressure over Calvin's leg.

"Okay, I'm not going to hurt you." Michael corrected himself.  "You know if you're not with Zero Beat, maybe you can help us out.  What's their deal, anyway?"

Calvin just laughed.  "What's their deal?  Seriously?  You live under a rock or what?"

Kim applied pressure, clearly annoyed by the run around.  "Hey, he's not paid to be in the know.  Just answer his questions before I lose my patience."

"Okay, jeez." Calvin replied.  It was obvious charm wasn't going to work on her.  "You've got some award-winning personality there."

Calvin sat up now, though Kim still didn't seem ready to let up.  Fixing his collar, he began to address Michael now.  "Zero Beat, let's just say, is kind of like the police.  And you should know that nobody wants to piss off the police."

He took a particular glance at Michael's afro, smiling a little bit to himself.  "Especially after Last Record, and what happened with Highlord Funk and DanceDown.  A real tragedy, really."

Of course, those choice words were all it took to grab Michael Kay's attention.  His mind instantly began to wander at the implication of those words.  

DanceDown?  

Highlord Funk?  

Last Record?

It all sounded so fantastical, and of course, Michael's mind wanted more.  Calvin had him right where he wanted him.

"Anyway, I'm not with Zero Beat." he insisted, shooting a sly glance at Aeris.  "And as much as I'd like to stick around, I really have places to be.  Let's make this all water under the bridge, shall we?"

Kim seemed to debate just clocking him again.  She couldn't stand his smug grin or anything about the way he operated.  But even she wasn't so dense to think he had anything to do with Zero Beat at this point.  

She threw Michael a look of acknowledgement, before finally letting up on his leg and allowing him freedom.  In the back of her mind, she began to wonder if Michael's presence was starting to turn her soft.  

"You're lucky Michael's too dumb for his own good.  I better not catch you sneaking around here again." she threatened nevertheless, and Calvin clasped his hands together in his best apologetic tone.

"Oh, of course not.  I wouldn't dream of it."

He turned to Aeris now, taking her by the hand and just ever so slightly lowering his tone.  "I never got your name by the way.  The name's Calvin.  It's quite the pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Completely caught off guard, Aeris debated ripping her hand away.  Unfortunately common courtesy got the better of her, and she answered as politely as usual.  "Uh, I'm Aeris.  Nice to meet you, I guess."

Breaking his moment completely, Michael was quick to tap on their spy's shoulder.  "Hey, I know we might not see you again after this, so you want to trade numbers?  I'm kind of curious about the Last Record stuff you were talking about.  It sounds pretty cool."

Calvin, of course, was annoyed at the interruption, but he feigned interest quite well.  He turned to the afro-headed teen in an instant, but quickly realized he still didn't have the phone which also doubled as his music player.

"Oh, would you mind?" motioning to Kim for his phone.  She threw it back quite hard, though he still managed to catch it without too much damage to himself.

"And the headphones?"

She kept them looped in her fingers by her waist.  "Yeah, sure.  When you're leaving you can have them."

It took all of Calvin's will to hold back a frustrated sigh.  Instead, he turned his attention back to Michael, making small talk as he noted his digits.  "You're Michael, right?  I definitely dig your style.  Very retro."

Michael made an static grin in response.  "Hey thanks!  I wish more people appreciated it, you know?"

Kim simply put a frustrated hand on her forehead, standing by a mostly silent Aeris.  "I swear to you, Afroboy's going to make me blow a gasket one day.  It's a wonder you could stand being here alone with him for even five minute."

"You do know this is the first time you've really talked to me at all, right?" Aeris pointed out.  "And he's a little all over the place, but he means well.  It could be worse, you know."

Kim kept her hands in her pockets as she watched Michael continue to blab to Calvin, much to her displeasure.  "Could it?  Yeah, I find that hard to believe sometimes."

Meanwhile, Calvin seemed to have Michael wrapped around his little finger.  

"You know, it's too bad we won't be seeing you much after this.  Kim jumps the gun way too much on people." Michael commented, but Calvin's response was so oddly assuring.

"I wouldn't say that so soon, Mike.  Who knows, maybe you'll even get to see some of my song effects one day."

He gave Aeris a playful wink.  She just smiled awkwardly in response.  

Unlike Michael, he was no moron.  He knew she didn't have the hots for him.  But it was a start, at least.

Perhaps there was a silver lining to being face-stomped by Kim after all.

Fast forward to the next track...

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

-----

-----

WHITE KNUCKLE RIDE: PART FIVE

-----

High school was so inconsequential now.

In fact, it was so meaningless that even listening to Mr. Remora discuss the history of African-American music throughout the 70's couldn't keep Michael Kay's attention.

Since he was a kid, Michael had always fidgeted constantly. Lately though, this habit had become much worse.

The afro-headed teen could barely contain his foot tapping and desk shuffling all the way through eighth period. He'd been anxious all week; after all, it was just this past Friday that they had begun their Music Master training regime.

And it was a veritable miracle that Kim hadn't decided to just drop him like a hat. All of it just made Michael Kay hungrier for more.

His mind darted from thought to thought, and though Mr. Remora continued to drone on like an aardvark with a sinus infection, Michael was too busy thinking about Canned Heat again.

Canned Heat and YMCA, he mentally recounted, unaware of the few students around him now thoroughly annoyed at his fidgeting.

These were the only two songs Michael had tried so far, out of all the hundreds stored in his five- year old music player. Part of him was afraid to try any others for fear of musical suicide, while the other part was beyond eager to do so.

Michael began to go down his mental list of songs to try, when his gaze shifted in class, and he suddenly noticed someone a few desks ahead to the far right.

She was looking out the window, dressed in a white t-shirt, a loose blue checkered blazer and ripped jeans.

This girl seemed to be pondering intently, but what caught Michael's attention the most was one of her silver lighting bolt-shaped earrings, which he could just spot out of the locks of her long blonde hair.

There was something super familiar about that earring and about her, but between all of the craziness that had happened to him recently, he couldn't put his finger on exactly where he recognized her from.

Michael almost debated opening his mouth and asking her, but even he wasn't so oblivious to forget he was in the middle of class.

He stared at the clock instead. Time was clearly crawling along like a Bob Dylan song, to his displeasure.

Michael Kay just buried his head in his arms, praying for this terribly long day to end.

Then just a moment later, as if the angels themselves were answering his prayers, Michael felt a hard buzzing in his left pocket.

Michael glanced up quick. Mr. Remora had turned around, too busy jotting down a chart of famous musicians. With a quick motion, he checked his phone.

It was a text from Kim. She had specifically asked for Michael's number in the event he ever flaked on her. It was quite a surprise to think she would actually reach out to him like this though.

All the message said said was the following:

Audio Empire 

4 PM 

don't be late

Mr. Remora turned back around, wiping a slime trail from his nose without even the slightest tact. By this time though, Michael had already hidden his phone away.

His huge grin, however, was anything but hidden.

Maybe he could make it through history class after all.

-----

For as long as Michael Kay could remember, Audio Empire had been the place for music in his Washington Heights neighborhood.

In all honesty, it was probably the place for music in the entire Tri-State area. At least, that's how Michael felt.

No one could resist their selection, not even Kim Ramone. For once, Michael was silent next to her, one orange headphone in his right ear playing his usual music. He watched as she flipped through various vinyls in the old school punk rock section, going with precise speed through the Dead Kennedys and The Clash alike.

"So even you have to be wondering by now why we're meeting here." she began, not turning away from her album search for even a second.

"Uh..." Michael replied, though a bit unsure. "...did I mess something up?"

Kim smiled to herself, but she still didn't turn to face him. "No, you're fine, actually. This is pretty serious though. I was thinking about those Zero Beat flunkies that came for me in the Dust Bowl.  There's going to be consequences for what happened that night."

Michael scratched the back of his head in confusion. They were in the farthest corner in the basement of the store. It was relatively empty on a Thursday night, and strangely they had no music playing in the speakers overhead.

"You're worried about them? We owned them. They wouldn't think twice about coming back for you after that beatdown!" Michael exclaimed, his tone now excitable.

This time Kim spun around, mostly in response to just how loud Michael had become.

"Lower your voice! You already forget what I said about having a big mouth?!?"

Michael shrugged as he looked around. The basement of Audio Empire was just as empty as when they had arrived.

"What? It's just us and records down here. You worry way too much, Kim."

Kim's patience was clearly lost at this point. She put an accusing finger on Michael's chest as she addressed him.

"And you don't worry enough. They might be a joke, but Zero Beat isn't."

Michael's eyebrows raised. He had heard the name before, but had never thought to ask about it.

"Oh yeah. Zero Beat. What is that anyway?" he asked quite nonchalantly.

Kim stared straight at him, now unaware herself just how loud she was getting.

"They're people that Music Masters don't mess with. Especially Music Masters who didn't even have the slightest idea of what they're doing. And what you don't realize is that by doing what you did in the Dust Bowl, they're going to remember you. And they're not going to stop coming after me and you until they get payback."

Michael expression dropped at the sound of her words. He gulped audibly, the carefree feeling in his stomach was whisked away in but a moment.

"...Payback?"

Kim narrowed her eyes, not mincing a word.

"Yes, payback. And that's why we're going to keep meeting on Fridays. That's why I need you to be at the top of your game, so that you can have my back when they decide to show their faces again."

The reality of the situation was dawning on Michael quickly, and he tried his best to distract himself with the music still playing in one ear. In his nervousness, he picked up a stray vinyl from the rack, twirling it between his fingers in an attempt to relax.

"So this is what I get for helping you, huh?" Michael remarked, the hopeless in his voice now very obvious. "Man, What did I do to deserve this?"

"Hey!" Kim shot back, tired of Michael's whining. "I didn't ask for your help. Don't blame me because you decided to play the hero. And let's not forget that I could have just left you in the dust awhile ago."

Michael held the album in front of him, taken a little aback as Kim's voice got louder still.

"But did I do that, Afroboy? Did I royally screw you over?"

Michael's voice was low, but audible enough. "No."

"That's what I thought. So don't give me lip. We do things my way, or we don't do them at all. Am I crystal clear?"

Michael didn't even answer. He had turned away, looking down at his music player as he allowed his mind to wander.

Kim's voice was becoming less and less audible with each passing second. Soon enough, Michael just found himself spacing out as Kim berated him.

Perhaps it was a defense mechanism carried on from his younger years of dealing with Colleen, but Michael Kay focused on the only other thing audible besides Kim; his music.

And coincidentally, that music just happened to be Canned Heat.

Everything fell into place so quickly, though not in the way Michael would have wanted.

"Uh, everything alright down here?"

Both Michael and Kim turned at the same time. Kim's mouth was still agape from all her shouting, but Michael had allowed his subconscious to take hold. In his right hand, he still held up the same record he was twirling before.

Unfortunately, it was now very much burning to a crisp, as the red-orange aura flared brightly over his right hand and Canned Heat played freely in the air.

Standing in front of the two Music Masters was none other than the same girl from Michael's history class. Only this time, she was wearing a winter jacket with keys jingling in her hand. Her name tag read "Aeris."

It was at this time that Michael Kay finally remembered her as the same cashier who rung him up that fateful day when he first emerged as a Music Master.

In a panic, Michael spoke quickly, much to Kim's chagrin.

"Uh yeah! No problem here! We were just practicing our bit for the school talent show."

Michael couldn't be any less convincing with his words. Aeris just ignored him though, her gaze now focused on the burning record in his hand.

Kim closed her fists, hot anger quickly boiling inside her. She couldn't believe Michael was this stupid.

Noticing the silence, Michael's gaze followed Aeris. His eyes widened at the sight of the now smoldering vinyl.

"Oh shit." he said quite loudly, before dropping the record and stomping on it with reckless abandon in an attempt to put out the sudden fire.

Both Kim and Aeris just stood by in relative disbelief. When Michael was finally done, he was breathing heavily, changing his tone in his best attempt to diffuse the situation.

"Wow, talk about spontaneous combustion. What are the odds?" he joked, his grin wide but doing little to hide his nerves.

Aeris finally reacted, looking down at the damage and speaking just as politely as Michael remembered.

"It's alright. Most of the records down here ain't worth much in change anyway. No harm done." she assured, turning around to head to the nearby closet to grab a broom and dustpan.

"An' I guess I left the music on down here. It's been a long day."

Kim's expression instantly changed at the sound of her words. Michael looked overhead, remembering that the music speakers had been off in the basement since they'd got here.

Kim didn't try to hide the suspicion in her voice in the slightest.

"Music?  What music? I don't hear anything."

Aeris stopped in her tracks, frozen with fright once she realized the mistake she had made. It had been bad enough that she'd been working two hours before her shift to cover for her lazy coworkers, but even still she was always good with managing her exhaustion.

Not knowing what else to say, Aeris just continued her cleaning as if nothing happened.

By now, Michael removed his earbud, and his hand had gone cold as Canned Heat no longer played in the air.

Aeris's continued silence spoke volumes for Kim. She stood over her, arms crossed and her shadow oppressive, but the blond seemed unaffected.

"So what? Now all of a sudden you got nothing to say?"

It took close to a thousand years, but Michael's eyes widened once he finally clued in to the situation.

"Wait a second. She heard my music? But that means...it means she's a Music Master too!"

Now the jig was clearly up. Not much of a surprise to Aeris though. This afro-headed guy had forgotten more than once what he was buying from her experience.

Just about finished, she swept the rest of the burnt record into the dustpan. When she stood up to face Kim, her expression was anything but scared.

"That's my business, not yours. I don't remember having to tell you my life story, thank you very much." she shot back, clearly done with being interrogated.

Kim just narrowed her eyes and held her ground. "Just stay out of our way. And forget what you saw if you know what's good for you."

Harsh lightning seemed to spark between Kim and Aeris's eyes, and it was at about this time that Michael finally had the courage to intervene. He quickly got between them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders and throwing on a grin to offset the tension.

"Okay, relax everybody. Nobody is getting in anyone's way. I mean, it's not her fault she saw me. It's my fault for being careless."

"Save the maturity act, Michael." Kim commented, clearly unconvinced.

"Don't mind her." Michael said, now addressing Aeris. "I don't know about you, but I'm super new at this Music Master stuff. Kim's been training me since last week though, so I'm starting to figure it all out."

"Just tell her everything while you're at it."

The venom in Kim's voice was obvious now, but Michael was anything if not relentless.

"Hey! You should totally join us for training tomorrow night! I mean, the more the merrier, right?"

He looked back at Kim, but she just turned away, clearly aggravated at the whole turn of events.

Aeris, on the other hand, seemed somewhat receptive. Whoever this afro-headed guy was, he didn't seem even an iota as volatile as his friend. And if she was ousted already like this, than maybe it was such a bad idea to at least try to keep it somewhat under wraps.

Aeris pondered the thought for a moment. Unfortunately, she quickly remembered the old sensation of pain in her palms. The idea of using her song effects again was not a joyous thought in the slightest.

Michael noticed the black fingerless gloves over her hands, and she rubbed her palms together with uncertainty. Despite her doubts though, this was for the best considering the situation. At least, for the time being.

"I'll come watch. But only if you promise to keep this on the down low. My brothers got enough to worry about as it is." Aeris told Michael in her most serious tone of voice.

"Hey, I'm the king of down low. You can count on me for sure." he beamed in response.

"Really? Could have fooled me." Kim grumbled under her breath.

"My name's Aeris. Nice to meet you. Well, officially at least. You're here like every month." she remarked with a laugh, the effect of Michael's smile finally eliminating the tension of the whole situation.

"Yeah, I guess I usually am. I'm Michael. We're in history together."

At this point, Kim was finished with formalities. She pushed past Michael with a grunt, turning on some music in an attempt to distract her from his boundless stupidity.

He just shrugged in response. "Oh, and that's Kim. She's a bit complicated."

Michael wasn't going to let her suddenly foul mood kill this chance though. He walked with Aeris out as she finished closing up Audio Empire. Unlike Kim, she didn't seem to mind him talking her ear off.

It took Aeris a few more minutes to lock up, but that was more than enough time for him to talk about himself, his time with Kim, his uncle Rob, and his top ten favorite disco songs. He neglected to mention their first encounter with Zero Beat however. Even he wasn't that stupid to scare her off this early.

Michael waited by the front door as she closed the register. He was practically ready to jump out of his skin from all the excitement. Now where there was but one fellow Music Master, there were two. And unlike Kim Ramone, Aeris seemed like she might not just berate him all the time for opening his mouth.

Outside, Kim waited silently as her music blared loudly in her ears. She gave Michael a particularly fierce look of death as he came out with Aeris in tow.

Kim would come around, he thought to himself.

She couldn't be angry forever after all.

-----

Outside, looking as innocuous as a passerby, a familiar shaggy-haired blond teen watched as Michael, Kim, and Aeris parted ways in front of Audio Empire.

He could only theorize what they were doing together. He knew Michael and Kim were Music Masters for sure now.

As for the cute blond cashier that he'd seen time and time again, to see her in their company that was certainly a surprise.

Aeris was her name, if he remembered right.

He'd have to remember that tomorrow night, at Kim's usual meet up time in Central Park.

Calvin did want to make a good first impression, after all.

Fast forward to the next track...

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

-----

-----

SAD TOMORROW: PART THREE

-----

"Look, I know it might be tough, but the last thing we need to do right now is panic."

Though there was some degree of confidence in Michael Kay's words, his body language was anything but.

He twitched and fidgeted even in his sitting position on Rob's five year old coffee colored couch.

Calvin chuckled as he sprawled back on the familiar loveseat, his tone beyond snide.

"Speak for yourself. I'm not the one about to bite his fingers off."

Michael turned his head, glancing down at the nubs that he had now turned his fingernails into. Visual reminders of his sudden anxiety. which had started the minute Aeris told him that Kim was in some sort of trouble.

For the last few minutes, Aeris had remained silent after relaying the current situation on Kim to both Michael and Calvin.

It was Aeris who had called this emergency meeting at the Sound Loft, as calm as she could be, and it was Michael who was busy worrying over all and any potential consequences.

"I'm not really sure why this whole thing is really an issue in the first place." Calvin began, leaning forward a bit as he tried to sound sincere.

"I mean, Kim's a pretty volatile person as it is. If she wants to go out on her own and take revenge on whoever, then maybe we should stay out of it. Heck, maybe we're better off without her."

Aeris, hands clasped together as she had let Michael and Calvin talk, was clearly none too pleased at this particular line of thought.

"You know I brought you here to help, but keep talking like that and you're welcome to leave. It's really the last thing we need right now, Calvin." she announced, but he remained unfazed.

The blond boy simply shrugged. "Hey, I'm just saying. Notice how much less anger is in the room now that Kim's not here? Notice how I'm not getting kicked for every little remark I make?"

Aeris narrowed her eyes. "I'm sorry that you two don't get along, but that's really unimportant right now. You may not be worried about Kim, but we are."

Calvin put his hands in his own clear defense of himself.

"If not for good 'ol Kim, then maybe I would have met you guys without being knocked out first. Plus, clearly those two from Zero Beat are still looking for her. Is that really an association we want to ke-"

Michael's hair just about split at the ends from those words. Finally, he could take no more as he cut Calvin's words clean off.

"Hollywood Swinging, who cares!? Who cares if she's got a bad attitude! who cares if Zero Beat wants her! I don't! She's my friend. She's an Audio Knight! Man, she's the reason I'm still in one piece!"

His shrill declaration was enough to make both Aeris and Calvin silent. It was loud enough that most of the neighbors probably heard him, but at least he the attention of his fellow Audio Knights.

Michael allowed himself a weary breath before sitting back down, running his hand through his orb of hair as he continued.

"Look, this isn't some big discussion. We're not arguing over whether or not we find Kim. If not for her, and all those training sessions, my uncle would probably be in Japan, and I would be dead."

Michael shook his head before allowing a smile to form on his face. Worry still gripped him, but he was trying his very best to make it seem otherwise.

"Look, I'm going to find her and make one hundred percent sure she's okay. Whether or not anyone else wants to come along, that's your choice."

Aeris smiled in response to Michael's words.

Seeing maturity in the afro-headed teen was certainly a nice thing. She could only wonder why Calvin was so much more selective on when he wanted to be serious.

"You already know my answer." she reassured, much to Michael's comfort.

The odd man out in the room was quick to realize that an answer had to be forthcoming.

He didn't say anything at first, instead absorbing the concerned expression on Michael's face and that look of anticipation from Aeris. Sure, he could disappoint Michael, and he certainly wouldn't lose sleep over it.

But seeing that expression on Aeris's face, and taking in her long blonde hair, angelic face, and perfect smile, Calvin knew to disappoint her would be a gigantic mistake.

So, despite the fact that he really did think they were better off without her, Calvin let out a sigh as he allowed his new concerned tone to take hold.

"Alright, alright, you guys win. You can count me in."

He felt a black gloved hand on his own as Aeris smiled sweetly.

"Thanks."

Calvin just laughed lightly as warmth quickly grew in his chest.

Any would-be tender moment he and Aeris might have had though was interrupted the moment Michael started thinking out loud.

"Okay, so first things first; we need a lead. We gotta figure out where Kim would go. It's been, what, four days since anyone last talked to her?"

Aeris chimed in, quickly focusing back on the task at hand. "Four days since I faced Helia and Renaldo with her at the Dust Bowl. That's the last time I saw her, and she hasn't answered any texts or calls since."

Michael swiveled towards Aeris, his mind working as best as it could to narrow down any hint to her location.

"Run by me again the whole thing with Seth."

He gulped as Aeris began with what was clearly a very sensitive subject.

"All I know is that Seth Ramone is dead. He died in car crash in 2001. It was by Astroland, in Coney Island."

"But what about this Ayla Syntara? Is that actually someone's name?" Calvin added with jest, though unsure if he was even remembering it right.

"If she's the one who really axed him, but everyone else thinks he died in a car crash, then that would mean..."

"...it would mean she has some kind of song effect that made him do it. Assuming that Renaldo wasn't straight up lyin' to us." Aeris finished for him.

The blond rubbed her chin as she thought about it all.

"That thought crossed my mind. But we're talking mind control or something similar to make him crash his own car."

Michael put his hand on his forehead. The thought of possibly facing yet another dangerous Music Master was beginning to dawn on him.

"Mind control? I'm not gonna lie, that sounds pretty freaking dangerous." Michael commented.

"Which is exactly why we need to make sure Kim has backup." Aeris declared. "Ayla's song effects, whatever they are, are probably the last thing on Kim's mind right now."

"Don't worry. We'll find her." Michael assured, before taking a glance out of the tower windows behind him.

The city was noisy as usual, but the skyline seemed so picture perfect from this view.

He imagined Kim stomping through the streets, an anger-ridden look on her face. She was almost definitely on her own personal manhunt for whoever this Ayla Syntara person was.

Michael shuddered at the thought of being the object of Kim's anger.

Whoever Ayla actually was, he'd really hate to be in her shoes right now.

-----

For more than an hour, Kim Ramone hadn't said a word as she stepped off the F train and onto the Coney Island platform.

All this time, Kim's headphones had served as a barrier between the festering anger in her mind and the rest of the world.

As she made her way out of the underground and onto the street above, her thoughts focused on everything that had happened these last four days.

She bumped hard past other pedestrians without any thought of apology. Only a fiery hatred for her brother's killer blazed in her mind.

Because after over ten years of desolation, she finally had a name to attach to Seth's demise.

Ayla Syntara.

It sounded too fantastical, and probably made up, but it was all too good enough for her.

Kim's fingernails dug into her palms as she followed her mental directions to Luna Park, formerly known as Astroland.

In the very same Village Voice article that detailed Seth Ramone's passing, there was a seemingly innocuous article detailing the closing of a old sideshow troupe led by the aptly named Ayla Syntara herself.

Clearly there was some sort of connection between those two events, so naturally the former attractions Coney Island base of operations was the best place to start.

But as Kim passed by increasingly run-down streets, shady buildings, and more neglected parts of the city, all she could think about is what she would do once she was face to face with her brother's killer.

A great many thoughts ran through her head as anger pulsed through Kim's very being.

She imagined her fingers wrapping around Ayla's neck and slowly crushing her windpipe.

She imagined holding her up with a dozen of Walking Disaster's hydra-arms, only to mentally command them to tear her into pieces a moment later.

Kim could practically feel the slick of blood on her fingers as claws from Desolation Row slashed into Ayla's jugular. She could hear the sound of crunching bone and body mass as Blitzkrieg Bop's skeletal Sentonal stomped her into oblivion.

Every satisfying death wish ran through Kim's mind, despite her not having a face or a voice to apply to her target.

Just the thought of giving her brother's killer what they deserved was more than enough to distract Kim from everything else.

Finally, after a good half hour of walking, she could see her destination in the distance.

Off an old boardwalk towards the beachside, Kim noted the sign for Astroland. As she approached the large overhanging metal entranceway, it was clear that this section of the former midway had been abandoned long ago.

A light sea breeze with a hint of cold pushed against Kim's tangled mess of brown hair, but she ignored the cold despite its touch against her bare shoulders.

As Kim stepped onto the boardwalk, the entire structure seemed to shudder with loud creaking as if almost unable to support her weight. It was stable enough though, considering the myriad of old sideshow booths and other small stops built upon it.

Kim's eyes scanned her surroundings as she continued on, but nothing of particular interest caught her attention. Her combat boots made audible noise with each purposeful step, and as far as she could tell, this entire subsection of Astroland was a ghost town.

She stopped for a moment, pulling out her music player as she scrolled through songs.

At a time like this, it was crucial that she listen only to songs that she could Harmonize with quickly. In particular, Blitzkrieg Bop, Walking Disaster and Desolation Row were at the very top of that list.

Stopping at Walking Disaster, Kim set the song on loop as she made her way down the boardwalk.

She didn't necessarily think that finding Ayla here would be so simple, but if anything, she might eventually run into someone who might know something about her former sideshow.

But as Kim's eyes continued to scan her surroundings for any sign of life, something to her left caught her attention.

It was enough to soften her disaffected stare, and enough to cause her to take a few shy steps in the its direction.

There was a glimmer of happiness in her eyes as she stared ahead at a disused, grimy claw machine no more than a few feet in front of her.

Inside of it was a number of pest-infested stuffed animals, and a single stuffed duck that sat at the very top.

It looks almost untouched by time, with yellow down that pierced Kim's eyes like the light of the sun.

Kim put her hand against the glass, admiring the quaint little duck as a smile crept onto her face.  She sniffled ever so slightly as pure memories of Seth, and the numerous times he had taken her to Coney Island, rang up in her mind.

Before she knew it, she found herself scrolling through her music player again.

This time, she found a particular song completely outside the punk rock genre. Kim looked at the tiny stuffed toy with longing as she allowed the disco tune to play in her ears.

-----

-----

This was certainly the last song in the world she needed anyone to know she liked, Michael especially.

But in this childish disco tune remained entwined the image of her brother's grin, his ridiculous antics, and his unending love.

Though no one in the world knew about it but her, a similar stuffed duck named Albert remained in her closet back home. It was but a token of the childhood she so dearly missed.

But as Kim reminisced, a noise behind her snapped the girl back into reality.

She turned quickly, narrowing her eyes as she focused on the source of the sound.

Keeping her cool lest she accidentally Harmonize with this song, which she had never actually used in a fight, Kim could see a stranger some few feet away just below the boardwalk.

They were just barely visible through uneven wood planks, but they were wearing what appeared to be a hoodie as they made plenty of noise scratching and scrounging through what looked like a washed up trash can.

Kim made her way down with just a bit of caution, landing five feet down into the sand as she got a better look at the person in question.

They were hunched over, and upon closer inspection, the hoodie they were wearing looked more like a straitjacket. Or perhaps maybe it was a mix of both.

Kim approached from behind slowly. It could just be a hobo looking for food, but it could also be a would-be vagrant mugger or something similar.

But the closer Kim got, the more she noticed that this person acted less like a person and more like a dog. They dug at the sandy ground and through refuse in search of some prize. Their clothes were torn, dirty and just looked lived-in.

Still, they clearly couldn't hear Kim's music from this close, so at least that narrowed down that they weren't a Music Master. And while they might not know anything about Ayla Syntara herself, they might have at least heard of what happened to her little sideshow all those years ago.

Kim was but three feet away when her boot crushed down onto a can of soda that had lay undisturbed in the sand. Her eyes widened as she silently cursed her stupidity.

But instead of turning around and asking who was there, like a human being might, the scavenger-man twitched his head.

He turned to one side, revealing the hoodie over his face that obscured any hint of his identity. All Kim could see was the glint of sharp, white teeth. Fangs shone as the being opened his mouth and let out a threatening growl.

Kim's hand went for her music player, fast forwarding quickly as the thing in front of her turned on all fours.

She had found her song and pressed play, when it leapt into the air with frightening speed.

All she could do was let out a strained yelp as it pushed her down into the sand with its weight.

Holding back a fanged mouth that snapped its jaws at her exposed neck, Kim's mind raced at the speed of light.

She wondered if today would be her last day on this Earth.

But most of all, she began to wonder if running off on her own to find Ayla wasn't the smartest of decisions after all...

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

-----

-----

SAD TOMORROW: PART TWO

-----

It was strange for Kim to admit, but elation grew in the pit of her stomach the longer she and Aeris stared Helia and Renaldo down.

It was almost as if she was looking for an excuse for a fight now.

But unlike in their first encounter, it seemed the Zero Beat duo, Renaldo included, was far more confident in the outcome of this tussle.

In the most casual way possible, Helia held a very normal cigarette between her fingers, despite her partner's music blasting in the air around her. She made no immediate effort to bring out The Cobra's Hood, at least from what Kim could see.

"These are two you told us about, right?" Aeris asked just behind her, trying to refresh her own memory of anything Kim had mentioned of Helia and Renaldo.

"If I did, I'm surprised." Kim replied, cracking her knuckles. "They're not even worth mentioning."

"Hey! We can hear that!" Renaldo shouted in response, his spindly bomb-headed Sentonal towering behind him. Its fingers move erratically, as if ready to react at a moment's notice.

Kim just answered snidely. "Yeah, and I should care because?"

As if finally responding to Kim's declaration, a new song emerged in the air. Originating from Helia's headphones, it started from a harsh guitar twang only to erupt into rash, quick singing.

-----

-----

Helia smiled to herself in satisfaction as the song effect began to wrap around her. It manifested as white, crackling energy that leaked from her eyes, ears and mouth alike.

Even as Kim and Aeris were already rushing forward, Helia's entire body was overloaded to the brim.

In one swift motion, she rushed right back at them, hitting the girls with a harsh clothesline that knocked them both right off their feet.

"You should care, Kimberley. After the stunt your little afro-headed friend pulled, you and your friends should care very much." Helia began, her pitch drastically changed from the active effect.

Kim was quick to react from the fall, rolling to one side quickly even as Helia's fingers clawed at her headphones.

Meanwhile, Aeris put a hand to her forehead, dazed by such a quick, hard blow. She blinked more than once, willing her body to get back up before things became worse.

When she was on her feet again, Aeris was met with the sight of a gigantic, grinning blue bomb, belonging to a Sentonal that would fit better in a 1920's era cartoon than anywhere else.

"Best stay down, if you don't want to get hurt." Renaldo advised, just behind his Sentonal and clearly in the advantageous position.

Behind her, Kim was busy dueling Helia, just barely outpacing her now that she was under the effect of Overloaded. If not for Desolation Row and its dark purple energy shroud, Kim would have been downed and beaten no less than two minutes ago.

Even still, it was taking everything she had just to keep Helia from grabbing her headphones and snapping them in half.

Despite the pain still throbbing in her forehead, Aeris forced herself to move quickly as she was assaulted, just barely dodging a swipe from a huge white-gloved hand.

And as she put further distance between her and Renaldo, her fingers were already working to set up her desired song effect.

The fruits of her labor from coming to Kim's sessions made themselves apparent, as Aeris was Harmonized with This Fragile Breath in the span of just two seconds.

The blond poised her right hand in front of her, clearly displaying the new threat of blue electrical sparks that bounced around her fingers.

Undeterred, Renaldo's Sentonal took a step forward. Behind it, Renaldo fixed his glasses and simply held his ground.

Too focused on her own battle, Aeris didn't even notice Kim's loud grunt as Helia slammed her hard into the concrete wall of a half-pipe.

The First Beat stared Kim down with vicious intensity, her eyes stark white from the brilliant energy leaking out.

Kim could only push back so much, as Desolation Row only gave her just enough strength so as to avoid being squashed. As if her song didn't point out more than once by now, Helia was clearly overloaded in more ways than one.

"How does it feel, Kimberly? To be overpowered...to be completely and utterly helpless." Helia taunted, as she pushed her arm into Kim's chest with even more force.

But this wasn't Kim's first fight, and it certainly wouldn't be her last.

She growled back in response, her own voice deeper and just as threatening under the influence of Desolation Row.

"You call this overpowering? Feels like a cheap massage."

Perhaps part of it was the energy that overtaken Helia's body, or perhaps it was simply arrogance, but something caused Helia to dig painfully deep with her next words.

"From what I hear, sounds like you know the feeling all too well. I wonder if you brother felt the same...right before he got his canned burial."

The snicker in Helia's voice was all too clear for Kim Ramone. In but an instant, any shred of calm she might had left shattered like glass.

Her eyes widened as the words replayed a second later, and her jaw tightened as the anger inside her shot up like hot magma.

Kim said nothing as she pushed back against Helia with all her rage, one of her darkforce claws cutting deep into Helia's forearm in the process as she threw the girl aside like a ragdoll.

Helia tumbled back in surprise, hitting the concrete ground hard as Renaldo saw her plight from afar.

"Oh not this again!" he protested, turning his attention away from Aeris at a pivotal moment.

His Sentonal was already striding towards Kim and Helia, but Renaldo himself only made it three steps on foot before he felt two black-gloved hands clasp down on his shoulders.

Standing right in front of him, Aeris looked back with sorrow in her eyes as she mouthed the words in a low voice.

"Sorry."

Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she let loose her the power of This Fragile Breath on a living person for the first time in years.

Blue electricity crackled through Renaldo's body as he screamed at the top of his lungs. The pain was beyond unbearable, and his headphones sparked and burned as their electronics were shorted out. He shook violently in those horrible seconds that felt akin to an eternity.

Thankfully for him, Aeris had some degree of control on the lethality of her lightning, finally letting up and catching him in her arms as he completely passed out.

She set him down slowly, her nose twitching as she picked up the harsh burning smell that emanated from his now scorched headphones.

Turning quickly, she could see that the Big Bomb Balladeer was gone the moment his headphones had been destroyed.

Aeris instead was greeted by the sight of Kim, who now had Helia pinned below her.

A wet smack followed each punch delivered, and it was obvious that Kim had cut her headphone wire at this point.

Aeris approached slowly, debating what to say as Kim let loose another punch with zero restraint.

Her darkforce claws were curled into fists, but underneath the glowing energy, Aeris could see the slick, red color of blood coating her knuckles. Aeris gulped as she began to realize how dangerously close those claws might be to slashing Helia apart.

When the blond Music Master was just a few feet away, Kim stopped hitting Helia, thus allowing her a moment's reprieve. Her voice was still changed under Desolation Row, and Kim practically roared down at her in threat.

"Go ahead, you piece of meat. Mock my brother again. I dare you."

Helia coughed in response, only to laugh in a low voice under her breath. Her words came out somewhat muddy through the blood dripping from her nose.

"Looks like we finally found your sore spot. But I guess if a Music Master killed my brother...maybe I'd turn into a crazy bitch too."

Kim's response came as another hard punch into Helia's face. Aeris visibly flinched in response, but Kim's liche purple eyes only glowed with anger as the song effect slowly grasped her with its malign influence more and more.

It was when she raised her bloodied fist yet again that Aeris finally found the courage to speak.

"Kim, wait."

Helia answered her instead, her voice strained despite the snide tone she tried to convey.

"Yeah, wait. It was actually a car accident that got him, right? Ha, A car accident! That's rich..."

Maybe it was the stress of the whole situation, but Aeris could have sworn that Kim's song had suddenly gotten louder around them.

Another punch hit Helia's cheek without abandon, and then another as Kim remained unsatisfied by the pain being dished out.

From what Aeris could see, Helia's left eye was bruised, and her lip was clearly split.

But despite the damage, Kim seemed far from ready to let up.

As Desolation Row held its grip over her emotions, she found herself holding her clawed right hand up in the air.

She spoke in an oddly calm, but clearly demanding tone.

With all the anger rolling inside her, it was becoming increasingly obvious to Aeris that Kim was no longer fully in control.

"I'll make this easy."

Her energy-borne claws stretched out in response. Their glinting tips could easily cut Helia's throat with little effort.

"You tell me who it was, and you live."

Aeris put a hand over her mouth, holding in her fear as she debated what to do.

"You don't, I rip out your throat."

Helia's eyes finally widened with some modicum of fear as she saw those claws poised to claim her life.

The words Kim wanted to hear formed in Helia's mind, but a mixture of pain and fear stopped them from coming out as intended.

Unfortunately, Helia could only manage a strained exhale, which of course, only fueled Kim's already prevalent rage.

Thankfully for her, Aeris had made up her mind on intervening, taking a step towards Kim as lightning started to arc from her fingers again.

But before she could reach her, and before Kim could even strike, Renaldo's voice suddenly broke the tension.

"Ayla!"

His cry was clearly forced, plagued with exhaustion and pain alike, but he finished his words nevertheless.

"It's Ayla. Ayla...Syntara."

Glancing behind her, Aeris could see Renaldo, who had just barely held himself up off the dirty ground to say his piece.

Once he was sure Kim might have heard him and stayed his partner's execution, he went limp as his body betrayed him.

Meanwhile, Helia gave Kim one last glance once Kim's reason returned as she ended her song effect, and ceased pinning her to the ground.

"Guess he's not useless after all..." Helia said with a laugh, before her mind went black as she finally passed out into the realm of exhaustion.

Kim didn't immediately know what to say, and simply looked around her and drank in the current situation.

Helia lay right beside her, out cold and blood staining her nose, chin and the neck of her undershirt. Only about ten feet away was Renaldo, his headphones destroyed by electricity as he remained unconscious from the pain of 60,000 volts. It must have taken some willpower to fight that pain even just to say those few words.

So where there was once a fight, all that was left was two members of Zero Beat quite badly beaten in both mind and body.

Aeris was already on her knees as she inspected Helia's condition in particular. Scanning from her face down to the deep cut on her arm, she winced visibly at the amount of blood Kim had forced out from all her punches.

"What are you doing?" Kim said, clearly annoyed that Aeris would even show them a hint of mercy.

Aeris made no effort to hide the accusing look now in her blue eyes. "Making sure she's not dead. Do you know the meaning of the word restraint, or do you just not care?"

"Hey, they came at us. I'm not responsible for someone who gets hurt after they come looking for trouble like that."

Kim's arms remained crossed as Aeris scrolled through her music player for the song she needed. It was something she had hoped to never have to bring out, but in Helia's case, it was better to err on the safe side.

A calm melody began in the air as the slow country beat enveloped the immediate space with its mood. Aeris closed her eyes as a glowing gold light shined through the middle of her white shirt.

-----

-----

She focused herself, and the same gold light shifted through her veins, right down her arms and then into the tips of her fingers. With those same fingers poised right over Helia's ravaged face, Aeris touched down slowly. Neil Young's Heart of Gold played unopposed as he worked.

As Kim watched nearby, she could see the shapes of tiny, golden vines that danced around Helia's cheeks and nose. Slowly but surely, they bathed over her scratches and bleeding cuts.

Even as Aeris's shining energy constructs mended Helia's wounds, Kim still felt the need to make her intentions clear.

"You know I would have beaten the answer out of her if her flunkie didn't say it first."

Aeris didn't look away as she replied. "You would have done more than that. I'm just glad I was here."

That reply, of course, just pissed Kim off. She looked down at the unconscious Helia as Aeris continued to work.

Kim's words were just as venomous at the blond expected.

"Oh really? And what, you think you would have stopped me? What are you, my handler now?"

Aeris didn't reply, trying her best to focus on the healing process. Dried blood still remained on Helia's face and shirt, but the bruises and cuts were just about healed.

Kim simply continued despite Aeris's silence. "Afroboy must be the damn ringmaster in this ridiculous circus. I'll be so sure to not step out of line, or he might lock me up in a cage."

Finally, the song's job was finished, and Aeris turned it off as she headed over to inspect Renaldo.

Turning him onto his back, it was clear that his headphones were heavily damaged, but beyond some burn marks on his clothes from where Aeris made contact, he seemed unharmed. She checked his breathing before finally turning her attention back to Kim.

"I hope you don't forget that these are still people." Aeris declared, unafraid even as Kim glared back at her.

"They might be Music Masters, they might have come at you first, and they even might have insulted the fact that your brother is dead, but that doesn't mean they're suddenly less than human. It doesn't give you the right to justify taking a life."

Kim scoffed back in response. "Save it. I don't need the lecture. After all, I'm the one who's been training you morons in the first place."

Kim shook her head, finally fed up with just about everything.

"I'm outta here. Way to waste my time." she said out loud.

Turning on one heel, Kim's goodbye was just as forced and nasty as her motion to push aside the nearby wire fence entrance.

"Hope you enjoy playing nurse. I imagine they'll be a lot of that knowing Afroboy and your con artist boyfriend."

Kim's steps echoed in her ears as Aeris waited for her to leave.

There would have been nothing she could further say to improve the situation.

Knowing what she knew, Aeris had to give Kim some leeway considering the ten years of pain she'd been going through all this time. It was certainly the perfect explanation for all her anger and toxicity.

She could only hope that Kim would calm down sooner rather than later. Once she was normalized, then maybe she could get Michael and Calvin involved to perhaps cheer her up.

But when Aeris looked back at Renaldo, she remembered what the boy had told her. The name replayed in her mind.

Ayla Syntara.

It almost sounded a bit made up, but Aeris knew it was worth remembering.

She glanced back, seeing that Kim was gone and she was now alone in the deserted skate park, with just the two knocked out First Beats to keep her company.

The name repeated in her mind again.

She could only imagine how many times Kim had played those same words back in her head.

And after discovering Seth Ramone's fate all those years ago, Aeris could only hope that it really was just the song effect that was but seconds away from ripping Helia asunder.

Because if not, then this so-called Ayla Syntara was in for quite the wakeup call.

Fast forward to the next track...

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

-----

-----

RETURN OF THE SPACE COWBOY: PART EIGHT

-----

"So is this place groovy or what?

Michael's excitement could not be contained in the slightest as he opened the front door into the Sound Loft and beckoned Kim, Aeris and Calvin to follow him inside.

Inside, Rob stood by the tower windows that overlooked the city skyline.  He held the rainbow Warwick bass in his hands, as his fingers strummed on its strings ever so slightly.  

It has been only a week since he'd acquired it from Semi-Sound, but memories of his original chrome orange bass guitar still persisted in his mind.

The strings remained unfamiliar to him, and the neck was long and somewhat heavy.  But despite it all, he knew he would have to make due.

Rob sighed as he continued to practice scales.  His old bass was all but a memory now.

So focused on his new instrument, he almost didn't hear Aeris when she addressed him as the four entered the living room where he was practicing.

"Oh, you must be Mr. Kay." she said, the Texas twang strong in her voice.

The bass player looked up, tipping his cap up as he examined Michael's new friends.  He'd just about forgotten they were coming today.

"Nobody else." he replied.  Always one to analyze first impressions, Rob noted that this girl was clearly used to being polite to strangers, whether or not it was by choice.  

Kim chose to keep silent as she sat down on the coffee-colored couch, while Calvin was already making himself comfortable, content to ignore everyone as he scrolled through his phone and propped his feet up on the loveseat.

Aeris flashed her best smile as she took a seat next to Kim.  "It's very nice to finally meet you.  Michael's told us a lot about you."

"That's a an understatement." Calvin began, still not looking away from his phone.  "He literally won't shu-"

Kim was quick with her reaction, kicking him hard in the knee with the bottom of her combat boot  He shut up just a second later.

Of course, all of this just flew over Michael's head.  He was far too excited to finally have everyone at Rob’s place to pay attention to such details.  He pointed ecstatically at his three guests as he introduced them in order.

"Aeris, Kim and Calvin.  These are the three I’ve been training with for the last two months.  See Rob, they're totally real." Michael exclaimed with self-assurance, only for Calvin to recover from Kim’s threat and add in his two cents.

"You mean like those super real Japanese assassins that apparently you somehow beat?" the blonde boy said with a laugh.

This time, Kim went for the personal approach as opposed to the physical one.

"I distinctly recall that Afroboy here bopped you pretty hard the last time you two tangoed, so I wouldn’t talk if I were you.  Or better yet, just don’t talk at all." she announced with a low snicker, much to Calvin's annoyance.

"Sounds like you all get along like perfect bandmates already." Rob finally interjected, taking a seat in the spare chair across from the four teens.  His tone became more serious now, as he began to remember everything Michael had told him about his exploits in this past week.

"More importantly, you four really need to think about where you show off those song effects.  You're lucky that you didn't hit any bystanders, let alone attract Zero Beat's attention."

Aeris replied in her most polite tone as she hoped to somewhat lighten the situation.  "Well, it was Kim's suggestion.  We just sort of followed along."

"I just happened to be in the neighborhood." Calvin added.  "My schedule's usually very packed."

Kim just groaned in response at his stupidity, but luckily it was inconsequential to Rob.

"My point is," Rob explained, as Michael just remained silent for once.  "The last thing you four need right now is to wave a big red flag at Zero Beat.  And I'd really prefer if the old neighborhood stays as quiet as possible until the whole Semi-Sound incident blows over."

Rob stood up, strumming on his bass again as he listened to the sound echo in his ears.  Though his connection was quite weak, he knew it would grow in time.  It might be years from now until he even had a semblance of what once was, but at least he could go up a flight of stairs again without dying of exhaustion.

"You need to train, then use the sound studio.  But I'll warn you now, I'm not going to be happy if I find it caved in from a poorly-timed Sentonal." he further explained, not once diverting his gaze as he delicately played chords on his new bass.

In response, Calvin finally looked up from his phone, Kim raised an eyebrow of surprise at Rob's offer, while Aeris just smiled with gratitude.

Michael's face glowed at the sound of his words.  "Seriously!?  But what about Colleen?  I mean, she knows where to find this place."

Rob put his bass down now, reaching into his jacket pocket as he spoke.  "I already spoke to her about last week’s mess.  Officially, we got mugged pretty bad, and thankfully she bought it.  She still hates my guts, but at least she isn't ready to ground you forever now."

Finally, he found what he was looking for.  He opened his palm in front of Michael, revealing a small silver key with a tiny record keychain on the end.

"And she might know where my place is, but it's not like she has a key."

Kim leaned back as she crossed her arms, counting the seconds it took until Michael finally realized what was being presented to him.  Calvin just snickered to himself only for Aeris to glare, a disappointed look in her eyes as she shushed him.

"You're giving me a key to your pad?" Michael asked in a low voice, losing track of everyone around him as his mind struggled to believe it.

Rob simply clasped his nephew's hand as he handed him the key, looking him straight in the eyes as he spoke.  "Consider it a gift.  But you say one word of it to Colleen, and I change the locks before you can say Funkadelic."

The bass player addressed Kim, Calvin and Aeris now, his tone unchanging.  "And that goes for all of you.  Please don't make me regret this."

Kim said nothing, but Calvin couldn't resist taking advantage of the situation.

"No worries, Rob.  You won't even know we were here." he remarked, only for Aeris to quickly interject in her most polite tone of voice.

"What he means to say is that we'll be here when Michael wants us to be.  This is a very nice place, Mr. Kay."

Rob laughed at her perfect politeness.  "Please, just Rob is fine.  I'm not a dinosaur yet."

He stretched his neck, beginning to feel the malaise of being stuck in the apartment all afternoon.  Then his stomach grumbled, and a thought lit up in his mind.  

"Anybody up for pizza?  There's a pretty good place around the corner.  My treat." Rob offered as he fixed his baseball cap.

Calvin leaned forward now, his attention finally diverted.  "Well, if you insist."

Kim just shook her head, but even she couldn't stonewall forever.  "I'll eat anything at this point."

Rob said no more, leaving his bass on its stand as he made his way out of the living room.

She wouldn't have been able to tell from underneath his cap, but Rob made particular note of Kim's appearance as he passed her.  Her messy brown hair, green eyes and sharp nose were a dead giveaway to the same little girl and her stuffed duck that he remembered first meeting some nine years ago.

And though Kim wouldn't spout of word of it, especially with Michael and the others around, she knew that Rob looked familiar for a reason.

They shared an unspoken moment before he was gone, Rob closing the door to the Sound Loft quietly behind him as he left the four teenagers to themselves.

Michael’s mood practically exploded once his uncle left, having only been barely able to control his composure this whole time.

"Can you guys freaking believe all this?! He gave me a key!  This is like our secret training hangout pad now!" Michael sang, spinning on one foot as he danced in happiness.

Calvin was already back to typing on his phone, not looking up for a moment as he replied.  “I don’t know, Mike.  This place might be a little too retro for me.”

He tipped his head towards some of the 70’s style wallpaper and funk music memorabilia in particular.  “I mean, didn’t like half of these musicians disappear into obscurity?”

“You’re welcome to disappear anytime.” Kim recommended, voice brimming with sarcasm.  “I promise that you won’t be missed.”

Even as Calvin and Kim continued their bickering, Aeris tried her best to ignore them and give Michael his moment.

“This is very nice of your uncle to trust us with all this.  It’s a little sudden, actually.” the blonde girl noted, playing with one of her lightning-bolt shaped earrings in uncertainty.

“At least we won’t have to be stuck out in the cold.” Kim added, and Michael smiled as he remembered the most important thing he was planned on bringing up today.

“It is pretty cool, right?  Anyway, there’s something else I wanted to run by everyone.  I figure we’ve been together as fri-...”

Michael stopped himself mid-speech, realizing for once that perhaps was assuming too much already.  His words shifted only a moment later.

“...as Music Masters, for about two months now.  I got to thinking, maybe we could have a cool codename or something.”

“Yeah, and matching costumes while you’re at it.” Calvin chuckled, clearly not taking any of this seriously.

Aeris simply ignored him again as she gave her full attention to Michael.  “What did you have in mind?”

Kim leaned back into the couch, trying to get more comfortable as she allowed the smallest smile of satisfaction to form onto her face.  

“Yeah, Afroboy.  Let’s have it.” the punk rock girl commented, more amused than anything at whatever ridiculous nonsense Michael might come up with.

Michael grinned to his three guests as the words began to coalesce in his mind.  Behind his back, he held a familiar photo in between his fingers.  It was the same photo of Rob at the Supper Club that Michael had found by accident in the bathroom all those weeks ago.

The afro-headed teen held nothing back as he finally allowed the words to slip out of his mouth.

“I was thinking that we could be…”

His voice hesitated for a moment.  Then he looked at Kim, Aeris and Calvin around him, everything so comfortable and serene in the Sound Loft, and all felt right in his world.

“...the Audio Knights.”

-----

“So how was the States?  I trust you both enjoyed your time abroad?” a gravelly voice asked both Nami and Arashi Nagataki in formal Japanese.

Arashi didn’t know how to immediately answer as the Fourth Beat addressed them from her lofty speaker throne above.  Instead he remained silent as he expected her to go on with the details of her report.  

Behind him, Nami was similarly quiet as neither of them could really be sure of exactly what would transpire today.

It had been a week since they’d returned to Tokyo, and it was on this fateful day that Zero Beat had requested they return to Minato to be debriefed on the Rob Prototype situation.

Thanks to Helia’s protege and his song effect, Arashi would live another day, with only a slight scar on his stomach to remind him of almost being killed by a musical instrument.

But his wound was the last thing on his mind, and even on their way here, Arashi’s remained paranoid of the possibility that each person they’d waited by on the train to Minato could be one of God Symphony’s associates.  When they’d finally gotten off at their stop, he almost jumped in out his skin beside Nami.  He continued to see shadowy men approaching them from the corner of his eye even by the time they were in front of the EMI Music building.

The Fourth Beat continued once she realized Arashi had nothing to say, though her tone was not threatening in the slightest.

“My apologies, but there’s little for us to debrief you on.  Zero Beat thanks you for your services.  See my receptionist on the way out, and she’ll provide you info on your retainer.”

She clasped her long finger-nailed hands together as she stared down at both of them through her glasses.

“I just wanted to thank you personally.  I was correct to put my trust in the both of you.”

At first, Arashi could only think that this was clearly a set-up.  He didn’t move, but his mind calculated each entrance around them and just how easily they could be ambushed by any number of Music Masters.

With all the stress building throughout their last week back in Japan, it seemed that he was unable to hide his panic for once.  The Fourth Beat was quick to reassure him with her next statement.

“You’ll find that your request has been fulfilled.  God Symphony is in full understanding of the situation, whether they agree with it or not.”

It was at this point that Nami’s voice lit up with happiness at the sound of the Fourth Beat’s words, her fingers digging into Arashi’s shoulder as she just about jumped with joy.

Meanwhile, he could only widen his eyes under his sunglasses with confusion.  His next words came out before he could even stop himself.

“I’m not understanding.  You’re aware that the bass player is still at large?  Was he captured after the fact?  I assure you, we have no idea where he went after his nephew intervened.” the elder Nagataki admitted, but the Fourth Beat seemed uninterested in pursuing the subject further.

“I read the report, and you destroyed a twenty-year old Synkronized instrument.  It seems American Zero Beat prefers to handle things from here, but they remain grateful nevertheless.  Consider this a job well done, and let’s leave it at that.”

She continued, perhaps in order to hammer the point home.

“As I said, you’ll be on retainer for the time being.  We’ll be in touch once something comes across my desk.  For now, please, enjoy yourselves today.  From what I’ve read, I imagine your ordeal was far more exhausting than either of you care to admit.”

Her words couldn’t have rang truer for the Nagataki siblings.  The weight of the world seemed to relax on them both once they’d stepped back into Japan.

Arashi wanted to say something further, still not ready to believe everything was okay just like that, when Nami whispered in his ear to stop him.

“Let’s just go, Nii-san.  You promised we’d make it to Shori-Platinum on time today.”

With that, her brother finally took the Fourth Beat’s advice and decided to just let things be.

After settling their retainer situation, both Nagataki siblings made their way up through the Symphon and back into the grand main lobby of EMI Music.  Even as the doorman watched them leave, Arashi’s vision darted back and forth, still expecting to see suit-wearing Yakuza waiting for them outside.

Instead, they were greeted with dozens of people on the crosswalk.  Minato bustled with life all around them, and though Nami had been talking most of this time, it was only now that Arashi finally allowed her to tune in.

“...so I was thinking that since they’re going to be paying us from now on, we should really get serious.  We need some sort of team name.  Something that sounds scary, makes the losers wet their pants.” she went on, excitement growing in her voice.

Arashi said nothing as he listened to her and simultaneously absorbed the ambiance around them.

Perhaps the stress had affected his memory, but he’d forgotten that he was tuned in to music through one earbud.  He’d done it all by reflex, but rather than turn it off, Arashi let the music keep playing.

He couldn't remember the last time he actually paid attention to a song like this.

-----

-----

This particular song was soothing to him, despite its heavy guitar and low-throated singing.  There was something clearly comforting in its tonality and mood.

Nami continued as she remained unaware of the warmth growing in her brother’s mind.

“Anyway, we could be something like Nagataki X!  Sort of sounds like that old cartoon we used to watch together, right?”

It was now that Nami’s enhanced hearing focused in on the music playing in her brother’s ears, and her eyes widened as she finally looked at his face.

“Nii-san, are you...crying?” she asked with genuine worry.

Sure enough, a single tear was visible below Arashi’s sunglasses.  After all this time, his calm demeanor had finally broken once the reality of the situation finally dawned upon him.

He debated lying to his sister, and telling her there was just something in his eye.

Instead, Arashi turned to face her, taking off his sunglasses in the process to reveal tears wetting both of his eyes.  

Nami had been lied to countless times now, and if the world was going to give him this precious moment, he would let her have the truth for once.

“Today has just been such a good day, Nami.  I couldn’t help it.”

He only so slightly wiped his eyes before putting his sunglasses back on.

All he could see now through the darkened lens were commuters and tourists alike.  God Symphony was nowhere in sight.

“Let’s not miss the next train.  You want to win tonight, don’t you?”

Nami nodded excitedly, and Arashi just took her by the hand as they walked across the street together.

And when the song ended in Arashi’s ears, he just clicked rewind.

-----

RETURN OF THE SPACE COWBOY:

END

Fast forward to the next track...

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

-----

-----

RETURN OF THE SPACE COWBOY: PART FOUR

-----

It was a wonder Nami Nagataki could stand the unbearable silence as she waited for Rob Prototype.

She did as instructed by her brother, taking position in a more obscured area of instrument racks about ten feet from the back entrance. Arashi himself stood straight in the path of said entranceway, with hands in his pockets, headphones around his neck and a completely blank look on his face.

To take down the bass player, he would be the anvil, and his sister the hammer. Their goal remained simple, as stated by Arashi only minutes before.

"We go for the guitar. Nothing complex, Nami."

Impatience was written all over Nami's face as she remained crouched down. Even with her own headphones on, she had been instructed to not play her intended song effect until the signal. It needed to be exactly perfect for them to have the jump on Rob, for however small of an advantage that might give them.

Nevertheless, the girl's light fingers remained poised over her music player.

Nami's eyebrows rose up in an instant at the sound of the back door into Semi-Sound creaking open. She looked for her brother, who kept his perfect posture as he waited patiently.

Footfalls echoed throughout the back of the store.

As Rob walked in, he didn't say a word as he adjusted his cap.

Blocking his path into the store and standing as perfect as a member of military police, was a young Asian boy.

He was dressed in a bright yellow-orange jacket and maroon pants, eyes hidden behind thick black sunglasses.

Rob sized him up in an instant. In particular, he noted the large roller blades he was wearing.

Arashi, on the other hand, didn't even give Rob a passing glance. If he did, Rob couldn't tell underneath his shades.

Instead, the elder Nagataki burst forward with offense, scratching into the floor of the store with his wheels.

Though Arashi was nowhere near Rob's size, the momentum from impact was still more than enough to knock him off his feet. Rob fell back onto the ground with the weight of his guitar case, struggling for the moment like a flipped turtle.

Arashi was far from finished though, launching a hard kick with one of his roller blades right at Rob's face.

He missed, though barely, causing Rob's cap to fly back in the process.

Multiple racks clanged onto the ground, and now the bass player found himself heaving his guitar case to one side just to keep Arashi off him.

His Japanese opponent slid back on his roller blades, but as Rob went to reach for the zipper to take out his guitar, there was a faint click.

Both Nami and Rob, with their enhanced hearing, could easily hear Arashi press down on such a tiny remote.

Up above, Semi-Sound's speakers began to loudly play music in response. Booming horns and violins seemed to conquer the entire store as the music roared in the air.

-----

-----

Meanwhile, Nami smiled at the sound of signal, finally pressing play on her music player.

As Nami began to Harmonize, Arashi kept his position. With the loud classical piece playing, there might just be enough rampant noise to distract even a Music Master's sensitive hearing.  Anything to distract a Synkronized Music Master from playing their instrument effectively.

With Arashi seemingly letting up for the moment, Rob had the brief instant in which he could unfurl his chrome orange guitar from its case.

But those few seconds were all Nami needed, and before he could even go for a single pluck of the strings, Arashi was charging again. The store was but a flurry of movement as Arashi made Rob focus all his attention on him.

Slowly inching towards the fight from behind her hiding spot, Nami smiled through the gap in her teeth as Hyper Eurobeat manifested into existence. Four of her killer arrows already hovered around her, each one shaking in deadly anticipation.

But as her brother sped forward to face Rob, and Nami finally revealed her presence, the atmosphere suddenly changed. It was as if realization hit both Nagataki siblings at the same time, and the power discrepancy between both parties became truly apparent.

With but one hard swing, the flat end of Rob's bass guitar hit a vicious home run.

There was a loud crack, and Nami gasped as she watched flecks of blood and black shards pass her in the air.

For her brother, everything moved akin to a slide show. He felt pain course through the left side of his face, the force of blow sending him flying across the room. When he landed, he was sprawled among used cymbals and old boxes of CDs.

The room spun like a turntable as Arashi's vision waxed and waned.

Nami stood frozen at the sight of her brother laid low so easily.  Gone was any cockiness in that single instant. Her song effect remained active however, but she seemed unable to make any move as Rob fixed his fallen cap onto his head.

Finally, Rob addressed both of the siblings, insult in his tone.

"Zero Beat really cherry-picked the losers this time, huh?"

Nami's killer arrows remained near her, but it only took a second for her expression to shift to something far more awful. She knew what that English word meant, for sure.

"What did you just call me!?!"

Nami shrieked in Japanese rage as she came at the bass player, her killer arrows flying from all sides as they prepared to tear Rob asunder.

But unfortunately for her, she could only be so fast. The arrows hit nothing but air as Rob's song effect began in the second that his fingers played upon strings. It was a chill club beat, but loud enough to conquer the previous classical music and thus all of Semi-Sound with its noise.

-----

-----

Nami blinked once she realized he was completely gone. All that was left of Rob's previous existence were momentary threads of gold and green. They swayed from an unknown breeze before simply fading away.

Nami looked side to side, suddenly confused.

Rob's voice seemed to be everywhere when he finally did speak to her.

"You two are a long way from home. I don't know what Zero Beat promised you for me, but from my experience, they usually don't deliver. Walk out with him while you still can."

Like a bird of prey, her eyes scanned everywhere for any sign of him. He was but a disembodied voice now.

In sudden panic, Nami's killer arrows flew out in all directions. They punctured drums, burst boxes, snapped wires and sliced up wood and plastic alike in their search for him.

Then came the strange, breezing sound from before. Nami was looking at Arashi for guidance, who was only now just getting up, when she felt Rob's heavy shadow upon her.

Despite the pressure of the situation, Nami remained as fast always. She spun on one leg, dodging the neck of Rob's bass as jabbed it forward like a makeshift lance.

The effort required to dodge cost her accuracy though, and the two killer arrows aimed for Rob's shoulder flew harmlessly overhead instead.

In a moment of recklessness, Nami threw a punch at him. Still having been playing along to the song this whole time however, Rob just disappeared in a flash of light before Nami could so much as nudge him.

Once again, he was out of their sight. Arashi finally came to his sister's aid, roller blades skidding the ground as he stopped in front of her. He had a song at the ready and headphones primed.

But upon closer inspection, Nami began to panic once she saw the large cut coming from Arashi's brow where his glasses had cracked apart against his skin.

"You are bleeding, Nii-san. I thought this was supposed to be easy!" she complained in Japanese.

Without his glasses, Arashi's every expression came to light. He narrowed his eyes accusingly at her.

"It could have been, if you would just be more patient. But that's not important. We get our hands on his bass, and this is over."

Travelling Without Moving continued to dominate the air as Rob's voice addressed them once again. Clearly, they would have no respite against him.

"Just because I can't understand you doesn't mean I can't read the both of you like liner notes. One more chance to walk out of here. Better take it now."

Arashi stood by his sister, defiance in his eyes. This was the wrong time to show fear, despite the unfamiliar feeling of uneasiness growing in the pit of his stomach.

"No, you are coming back with us. I promise you that."

Rob chuckled with his best attempt to scare them both. This was becoming more of an annoyance than a true fight at this point.

"Fine. Hopefully Zero Beat paid for body bags tonight."

His teleportation happened in the blink of an eye, as Nami and Arashi both struck as fast they could. Unfortunately, it was nowhere near fast enough to catch him at this instantaneous speed.

With one elbow, Rob hit home right into Arashi's open gash, causing the elder sibling to double back from a horrible spike of pain.

And with the bass itself, he slammed into Nami's stomach. She coughed as the wind was sucked out of her lungs, and Nami flew back with such force that she tumbled through the open door and found herself in the cold back alley some six feet outside.

Despite the pain, Arashi still held his ground as Rob continued to strum on his bass, forever retaining the effect of Traveling Without Moving as long as he did so.

As he rushed to Harmonize with the familiar song in his ears, the elder Nagataki now could see why these Synkronized Music Masters were so feared. He was beginning to understand exactly why Zero Beat found this particular Trackmaster to be such a problem, and why so many had passed up on him.

It was bad enough that he had access to a song effect that allowed for instant translocation, but what made it worse is that Rob could play this song forever and still kill them both just as easily.

Arashi stood up, no longer reeling from the blow despite the warm blood still coming down from his brow. A moment later, and he closed his eyes as the otherworldly glow of his song effect came over him. Its comforting aura seemed to give him hope, if for but a moment.

This would take everything he had and more.

If Nami was to stay safe, then sacrifices would have to be made.

And Arashi had never been a stranger to sacrifice.

-----

It took all of her reflexes for her to land back on her feet, but Nami was still breathing heavily as the situation dawned on her.

They were losing.

The word alone was like a deadly spike in her mind.

She took in each breath as if the next might be her last. Nami couldn't remember the last time she'd ever felt this tired.

She lightly touched her stomach, feeling the large welt from being hit by cured mahogany.

They were losing, and nothing she was doing was helping even in the slightest.

At a moment like this, every one of Nami's senses felt like they were on fire.

So when she heard Michael Kay hollering nearby, her eyes widened in shock even as she stared face down into the cement ground.

Nami's fingers curled as the boy approached. Her lips thinned as she gritted her teeth in frustration.

"Rob! Hey Rooooob!  You around?" Michael belted, clearly out of ideas once he'd found out that Semi-Sound was shuttered and closed. His best bet now was to hope he got lucky enough that Rob might still be in the neighborhood.

Nami's ears perked up at the sound of their target's name.  Suddenly, a convenient bullseye for her frustration was about to show his face.

The noise of Michael's sneakers padding the ground was closer now.

Michael entered the alley in the exact moment that Nami finally willed herself to stand back up.

She was met with the sight of this teenage boy, with dark tan skin and the largest orb of black hair she had ever seen in her life.

He looked beyond confused upon seeing her, but when she looked at him, all she could think of was a particularly annoying announcer straight from her favorite rhythm game.

"Uh, hey." Michael said, unsure of what to think of the Japanese girl waiting in an alley like this.

"You haven't seen a guy with a bass around here, have you?"

For a moment, Nami almost didn't know what to say. She scanned Michael Kay up and down again, and the frustration seemed to just build inside her even more.

She didn't let Michael get another word in.

"Get lost, loser. This store is closed."

No matter how hard she tried to mask it, her accent couldn't be hidden. Nami was clearly angry, but for some reason, Michael didn't react the way she wanted.

Perhaps it was just such a long day that it had all finally got to him, but instead of reacting in fear, Michael let out a light laugh.  There was something very ridiculous about running into some Asian girl in a back alley, and being told to get lost just like that.

Nami face almost cracked with rage in response.

Michael recovered himself quickly though, once he realized that he might have insulted her.

"Uh, sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Do you work here? I'm looking for my uncle Rob." he asked, trying to sound as courteous as possible now.

Nami looked back at the door leading into Semi-Sound, then back at the afro-headed teen. A devilish smile formed on her face once she realized the connection. Her free hand was already going for her music player.

"Oh? So he is your Oji-san? I wonder now, if you are a Music Master too." Nami asked, fixing her headphones which had been bumped off from being thrown into the alley.

Michael put his hands up defensively, beginning to back away as he heard foreign music entering the air as she started up a song.

"Hey, I'm not here for trouble.  I'm just looking for my uncle." he assured, but unfortunately Nami wasn't a complete idiot.

And to make things worse, she was clearly enjoying toying with him now.  

"Then why so afraid?" she asked, approaching with slow steps. "I'm just listening to a song. Do you not like my music?"

Michael's eyes widened as six of Nami's killer arrows manifested around her. Hyper Eurobeat had invaded the air again, and at this point, Michael didn't even try to pretend he couldn't hear it.  Instead, his muscles contracted with sudden anticipation.

Nami smiled wide in response.

"You are a Music Master!  Good, I need the practice!"

Her arrows flew forth in the blink of an eye. Time almost halted for Michael Kay as he realized the event unfolding was a very real confrontation.

If it had been two months ago, then Michael might have been dead right then and there. He would have skewered like a kebab, and his story as a budding Music Master would have ended as quick as it began.

But this Michael Kay wasn't the same one who'd nearly burned himself with Canned Heat outside of the Dust Bowl those two months ago.

He might have been scared, but at a time like this, it seemed his reflexes put him on autopilot. As the arrows came for him, each part of his body seemed to move independently.

His hips swayed, his legs buckled for a brief moment, and he craned his neck back as he dodged all six of her deadly projectiles as if moving to the groove.

-----

-----

When Michael's body finally relaxed, the killer arrows had punched right into the brick wall behind him, creating small cracks as they remained stuck.

Nami could only look on with her mouth agape.  She had seen break dancers in the past, but it pained her to think this was a dancing style that still remained alien to her.

Kim had certainly trained him well.  Even during all that motion, he'd instinctively gone for his headphones and was already hearing his song of choice.

Canned Heat flared in his right hand and in his heels, and Michael Kay put on his best serious face as the words just rolled out.

"What do you want with Rob? Are you with Zero Beat? Answer quick, cause I'm not going to repeat myself!" he demanded, though he was clearly not as threatening as he sounded in his head.

Nami seemed to agree, as she snickered loudly. "You think I'm going to just tell you? Just like that? Hehe! You are funny, Afro-kun."

Michael's opened his right palm, the heat expanding as threat filled into his voice. "I'm warning you! If you hurt Rob, I swear..."

"You will do what?" she challenged, having already channeled more of her arrows.  A veritable dozen of them appeared in the air around her, swarming like a furious horde of insects.

Michael's heart was up in his throat, but he focused the heat into his heels as he prepared for her to strike.  

Then his eyes went for the door behind her, and his ears perked up as he could the sound of clashing music coming from inside Semi-Sound.

It took a good second, but even Michael's simple brain was able to connect the dots to exactly what was going on.

"Hey!" Nami shouted, breaking his concentration. "Don't ignore me!"

Nami's arms were poised at her sides, and her menagerie of arrows reminded Michael of what he had faced countless times in training against Kim's Walking Disaster.

He had no time for a fight though, not when Rob could be in trouble or worse.

The afro-headed teen's eyes scanned the alleyway, and though it might not be the smartest plan, it was the only one he had right now.

His timing had to be perfect for this.  

Michael crouched down, trying to sound badass as he focused all of Canned Heat in his heels.

"Yeah, that's what they all say.  Do your worst!" he declared, and Nami just laughed out loud in response. There was no hesitation as her neon arrows of death spiraled towards him.  But his distraction had given him the extra second he needed.

Michael grinned with satisfaction, and finally let loose his burst of speed.

He surged forward as Canned Heat carried him across the cement, easily melting the ground below. Focusing all his speed, he found himself skating on the side of the brick wall itself.

Nami's wide eyes followed him as he scaled the vertical surface just two feet above her.

In all the chaos, Michael felt a painful nick in his right arm, but he ignored it as he pushed off the wall itself, jumped over Nami, and landed right in front of the back alley door into Semi-Sound.

Michael didn't even let himself exhale. He spun around like a top, and was just fast enough to shut the door into the alley behind him, effectively cutting Nami off.

"Hey! Get back here!" she yelled loudly from the other side of the door.

Ignoring her and clicking the lock, Michael allowed himself to breathe for but a moment.

It was only when he heard multiple banging sounds against the other side of the door, and saw the tips of Nami's song effect arrows just piercing through the metal, did he realize that now was not the time to be standing around.

Hoping the door would last more than a minute at least, Michael dashed inside the back of the store.

An entire drum set flew just above his head, and Michael put his arms up as the sound of crashing instruments and song effects dominated the air.

In front of him of was a fantastical scene.  Rob strummed on his bass to the tune of his song, as Arashi was busy dueling with something that Michael could have sworn he remembered from an old cartoon growing up.

It in front of him was robot that towered over robot, with a sleek, muscle-car frame and jointed legs like that of a jaguar.  Instead of a right arm, it held a long cannon that seemed melded with a silver bass guitar.

It moved methodically, countering every one of Arashi's blows with equal speed, as Rob continued to play the song powering it with perfect timing.

-----

-----

Michael almost didn't know what to say as he watched two very real Music Masters duke it out. It was surreal, frightening and exciting all at once.

And Michael certainly wouldn't have recognized Arashi Nagataki even if he had seen him before.

Where the serious elder Nagataki was before, there was now a confident Japanese super hero of sorts, clad in orange spandex and wearing a large styled visor to obscure his identity.

He still had the roller blades from before, as well as a flowing scarf that seemed perfectly wrapped around his neck and shoulder.

Using Ultrasoul, Arashi launched kicks and punches that would bend steel and break ribs alike, but Rob's robotic Sentonal seemed to continue to block every single one.

It wouldn't show on his face, but Arashi knew that no matter how good he was, there was no way he would be able to keep up with Rob's bass playing for as long as he could maintain his own song effect.

-----

-----

"I'm coming, Rob!" Michael called out, dashing forward with Canned Heat in an attempt to help his uncle.

With so much happening all at once, Michael's presence had been the very last thing Rob was expecting right now. His Sentonal continued to fight, but Rob was caught by a glimmer of distraction.

Arashi's reaction speed was tenfold in this particular form. And now, he finally saw the golden opportunity in Michael Kay's arrival.

Turning away from Rob Prototype, he instead went headlong for Michael.

Each punch could put a hole right through Rob's nephew with little effort.  Whether or not this was a bluff, Rob knew he couldn't take the chance.  Not after all this time spent away from everyone just to keep Zero Beat's eye away.

They were but two feet away from each other when Rob rushed to act.

With the ability to switch songs in an instant with his bass, he was in front of Michael in the next second amid a gold and green flash of light.

With a free arm, he pushed his nephew to one side in an effort to protect him from the oncoming blow.

Under his visor, Arashi made a rare smile as the golden opportunity arrived.

With Rob now unprotected and unable to translocate faster than the elder Nagataki could react, Arashi focused all of the latent energy of his song effect into his right leg.

Rob was prepared for a lethal blow, but instead, he felt pounding force as Arashi's foot smashed right into his bass guitar. A gust of wind accompanied the attack, and Rob's pupils dilated as he felt his guitar shatter and splinter in slow motion.

Like a wrecking ball, his kick broke right through the fretboard, snapped the neck, cut the strings asunder, and destroyed any musical connection to this beloved instrument that Rob previously had after almost twenty years of use.

He didn't scream, but Rob's entire body shook in pain as his bass collapsed into pieces onto the floor.

It was like someone had chopped off a part of him, and the shock alone made him fall to his knees. Rob's fingers twitched at his sides, reaching to touch familiar strings but finding nothing but air.

Standing above him with arms crossed and his scarf flowing in the breeze from the nearby back door, Arashi stood triumphant.

Nami had finally cut her way back inside, and she looked on in wonder as Rob continued to convulse in his kneeling position. The bass player seemed stuck staring upwards at the ceiling, as if experiencing some horrible seizure.

"You....you actually did it!  We beat him!  I knew it would be easy!" she asked, her voice slowly growing with excitement.

Her brother nodded, before turning to face Michael.  The afro-headed teen stood his ground even as Arashi's threat came.

"Of course. We're almost done here, Nami. There's just one last string to cut."

Nami grinned wildly in response, but Michael didn't care.

He couldn't take his eyes of his uncle and whatever unbearable pain he was going through.

All Michael could do was look at the shards of Rob's former bass guitar, and think back on Kim's words from earlier today.

She was right about one thing.

All of this was now completely his fault.

Fast forward to the next track...

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

-----

----

RETURN OF THE SPACE COWBOY: PART THREE

-----

For once, Michael Kay's mind wasn't going in a million directions.

In this brief moment, he wasn't distracted or daydreaming.

Because for the first time in a long time, he had but a singular thought in his head.

His eyes stared straight forward, still absorbing the physical presence of his uncle in front of him.  His mind wanted to scream at him that this was all some sort of crazy hallucination, but Colleen's clear awareness of Rob's existence told him otherwise.

There had been silence for a good thirty seconds now as Michael remained stunned. Finally, Colleen made a statement in an attempt to ease the mood.

"Mike...I didn't expect you home this late."

Her younger brother ignored the words though, taking cautious steps forward.

Arms spread out, he looked up at his uncle with awestruck eyes. They were almost face to face now, Michael having grown almost a good two feet since Rob had last seen him when he was seven.

"This is real, right?" the afro-headed teen asked, his voice cracking slightly.

Rob just nodded, and Colleen seemed at a loss now with what to say.

Michael's face formed into a wide grin, and he began to laugh. He relaxed right into Rob's arms, continuing to laugh as they hugged.

Only moments later, and now Michael was laughing so hard that tears were beginning to well up in his eyes. Elation filled him up like air in a balloon.

Colleen just looked to one side, nervously rubbing her forearm as she debated on how she really felt about this whole situation.

"You have no idea how much stuff I have to tell you, Rob. But it's really good to have you back." Michael exclaimed, wiping away stray tears, a toothy smile still pasted on his face.

Rob looked down at his nephew as he snugly set his cap back onto his head. He'd always felt so uncomfortable without it on.

"Well that makes two of us. I like the new hair, by the way." he complimented.

Rob looked towards Colleen, and they seemed to communicate with nothing more than a glance. He could easily sense the veritable mix of emotions coming from her, but it seemed the moment to pursue them was not now.

"We'll talk about this later." Colleen simply declared, subtle annoyance in her voice before she grabbed her jacket and went for the door.

"And that means you too, Michael. You can't just be coming home this late like it's nothing."

With that, Colleen shut the door tight behind her, presumably off to another early morning shift.

Michael blinked, momentarily worried about later consequences from his sister. Then he remembered Rob right next to him, and any hint of worry melted away.

"Man, what's her problem?" Michael said so casually, as he plopped down on the couch, resting his head back for the moment.

Rob set down his guitar case nearby as he took to the couch opposite to his nephew. As Michael sat up, he noted the hardened calluses on his uncle's fingers; an obvious result of years of constant bass-playing.

"She's pretty angry with me." Rob replied, his voice low.

He didn't want to admit it, but there were still a great many things about Rob that Michael just didn't know.

"Because you've been gone all this time?" Michael pointed out, inquiry written all over his face.

Rob pulled his cap down further to hide his eyes. It was an old habit dragged over from his younger years. "Of course, And before you even ask, I can't tell you why I left. It's beyond what my niece thinks. And we all know she hates being left out of anything."

Michael's mind perked up. With Colleen gone, and Rob right here in front of him, it seemed this was the prime time. His left hand went for his music player, while his right went to place both headphones in his ears.

Rob was relatively silent as Michael took but a few seconds before he was Harmonized with Canned Heat. With most of the lights besides the kitchen one off, the orange-red heat gave the living room an atmosphere of fiery warmth.

"Is this why you left?" Rob's nephew asked, displaying Canned Heat's power emanating from his right hand. The glow bounced off Rob's face, and he tilted his gaze upward.

"How much do you know about all this, Mike?" Rob asked seriously. He was already trying to gauge exactly how much information Michael might be able to handle.

"A lot, actually." Michael began, grinning just a little bit as he deactivated Canned Heat. "I met this girl named Kim. I'm pretty sure we're friends now, and she's been training me to be proper Music Master. That's why I came home so late tonight. It takes awhile to get back from Central Park."

Rob leaned back. His tone remained serious.

"You're training in Central Park? With your song effects?"

"Yeah, I mean, we've been doing it for like almost two months now. But you see, I knew it; you're a Music Master too. You've been one this whole time." Michael pointed out.

Rob took off his cap, seemingly unsure of what to say now. He debated texting Ricky, because at this point it was obvious how Zero Beat had caught onto his nephew so quickly.

"That's all just one part of it. It's part of the reason I've been away. But you can't be treating all this so lightly. You have to be more aware, Michael. There are people who monitor all of this. People who monitor us." Rob nevertheless explained, though his words seemed to hit Michael in just the wrong way.

Perhaps it was a bit of exhaustion, or perhaps it was emotions pent up from all the time past.

But whatever it was, lecturing was the last thing Michael Kay wanted to hear right now. Especially from the uncle who'd dropped out of his life for the last ten years now, only to show up out of nowhere like this.

"What, like Zero Beat? I'll have you know that me and Kim kicked their asses. And what do you know anyway? Colleen doesn't have a clue about all this Music Master stuff, and it's bad enough that she gets on my case as it is." he shot back, accusation heavy in his tone of voice.

Rob, as always, remained calm. "You don't know what Zero Beat is capable of. But how could you? You're just a kid, and I just want you to be safe."

Michael, for the first time in weeks, frowned. He stood up, growling back at Rob.

"I will be safe. That's why I've been training all this time with Kim, with Aeris and Calvin. I've got friends to back me up, and this kid can handle himself."

Michael shook his head, the anger welling up inside him. "So this is what you come back for? To tell me how much of a disappointment I am? Thanks a bunch, Rob."

He went towards his door, as Rob stood up, trying to keep his cool. "Mike, I didn't mean it like that. If anything happened to you, I wo-"

Michael swiveled around, frustration in his voice as he cut him off. The boy's words echoed every ounce of pain from having lost Rob after all these years.

"Nothing's going to happen to me! Because I'm better now! Thanks to Kim, I'm a real Music Master now!"

Tears were beginning to form in his eyes, but Michael willed everything into holding them back.

He opened his door, one last declaration on the edge of his tongue.

"And the best part of it all? I didn't need you around to do any of it."

Rob could say no more. Michael shut his door hard, his Bee Gees poster flapping back and forth slightly as silence suddenly filled the apartment.

The bass player tried his best to relax back on the couch. He took off his cap, running his fingers through his short hair.

If Michael had any idea of the things that had transpired since he and Kim had faced Helia and Renaldo, the boy would have a panic attack. If he knew that he had been marked for death by Zero Beat, and that Rob's reappearance was the only thing keeping them distracted, then maybe he might understand.

But Rob was used to keeping things on a need-to-know basis by now. He glanced at this phone. It had been two days since he'd seen Ricky at Semi-Sound, but perhaps it was time to pay him a visit again.

He wouldn't shed a single tear, but Colleen and Michael's anger towards him would affect him nonetheless.

There would be no sleep for Rob Prototype tonight.

-----

Michael Kay stood by uneasily as he watched Kim launch punches with peerless strength. Each hard smack could have easily been a bruise delivered. Fortunately, the only thing taking a beating today was the speed bag at the gym in Clinton-Collins High.

"Sounds like you screwed up to me." Kim pointed out with little tact, as Michael seemed reluctant to elaborate.

"Hey, I was a little annoyed. All the lecturing really gets to me, you know? I don't know, I kind of just snapped." he nevertheless said in his defense. She responded by punching the bag a few more times.

Kim's expression never seemed to change as she laid down blow after decisive blow. It was almost like she was focusing on something beyond what Michael could fathom.

"The point is that Rob's up and gone again. And it's all my fault." Michael admitted, any hint of happiness in his voice dropping in an instant.

"Well, it is your fault." Kim told him, cracking the knuckles on one hand as she allowed herself a rest from all the punching. "But I doubt he's just going to leave because you yelled at him. Do you know how many times I got mad at my older brother? I could scream his ear off and I'd never get rid of him."

For a moment, that piqued Michael's interest. "You've got a brother?"

Kim's slip was only momentary though. She resumed her disaffected stare. "That's besides the point. You're just overreacting as usual. He probably had errands or something to do. Just think about all the places he might be, if you really want to find him."

Dozens of names and locations zoomed through Michael's head in the next few moments. He almost stopped at Audio Empire, but then he remembered Rob's specific distaste for how mainstream the store was becoming over the years. A single name of a store he had vague memories of as a child popped into his mind.

"Semi-Sound. He mentioned his friend Ricky, who works at the Semi-Sound guitar shop off 110th Street." Michael said out loud, as Kim had already grabbed a towel and was about finished with her workout for the day.

It was a wonder how Michael knew that, considering that he hadn't spoken to Rob since his rant last night.

Michael took a quick glance at his phone. After last night's training excursion, he'd slept late into the afternoon, and it was now three o'clock. Rob was up and gone by the time he woke up, and Colleen must have stayed late at work.

The cogs worked through in his mind. If he left now, he'd be able to make it to Semi-Sound before five, and maybe catch Rob and apologize. That's if he was even there in the first place, of course.

"Better get on that then, Afroboy." Kim advised as if reading his mind, rather playfully.

Michael nodded, grateful enough that she seemed willing to listen, unlike Aeris who was always too busy at the record store, or Calvin, who seemed to still be having phone issues.

She rubbed her wrists as she watched him leave the gym. Thoughts of Seth waded into the back of her mind.

Michael didn't know it yet, but he was lucky to have someone like Rob still in his life.

And though she would never say it out loud, there was no way Kim was just going to stand by and let him throw that away.

-----

"I'm gonna be honest with both of you right now. You both stick out like a hot minute. Ain't no way anyone's gonna miss you."

Though it wasn't their first language, Ricky's observation did not at all go over the Nagataki siblings' heads.

"It is, how you say, A-OK." Nami replied, clearly a little full of herself.

Since they'd landed at JFK, everything was a new experience and a new sight to see. To Nami, what the USA was in Japan and what the USA actually was turned out to be two completely different things. For one, it seemed beyond unkempt.

Though they certainly weren't masters at it, Arashi had taken the liberty to teach his sister English since before their teens. Both Nagataki siblings could do little to hide their easily apparent accents, though.

But despite the language, her brother's tone was as cold as always.

"How we stick out doesn't matter, because he will not see us coming."

Ricky scrolled through his phone as he sat behind the counter, clearly a bit happy himself. This had become the payday he'd always been waiting for, and he didn't have to do anything beyond shooting a few text messages.

"Well, my man's on his way. No problem if I disappear for a few, right? Zero Beat did say the store's covered for damages, but I don't want to find out if that includes me or not." Ricky asked, clearly looking for any excuse now to minimize his involvement.

Arashi nodded, now debating exactly where they would ambush from in this spacious place for maximum efficiency. The store wasn't very well-organized, and visibility was varied on the basement and other floors because of that.

"That would be for the best." the elder Nagataki told him.

Waiting for her brother's command, Nami looked up at the instruments above, somewhat curious. She'd been curious about just about everything since they landed, having almost driven her brother crazy with incessant questions about the United States.

It had taken everything in his power to force Nami to focus on the mission, and that he might reward her with a night out to what arcades this country had to offer, however few.

"I think there is little to worry about. With both of us, it will be easy. I like easy. But this store is very dirty." she commented, checking the soles of her Gogo boots to make sure she didn't step in anything on the way here.

"I think that is just this country as a whole. But this is the time for focus. We need to be fast with this." Arashi reminded her, as Ricky already had his jacket on, ready to depart for the time being.

Nami grinned through her gap. "Fast is the easy part."

"Well, good luck to you two. Try to not to rough up Rob too bad." Ricky said with a chuckle, fixing the shoulders on his jacket as he got himself ready. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't look any less like a bum.

And Arashi had noted the man's every nervous tick.

Ricky, for all his joking, had little faith that the Nagataki siblings were going to actually succeed.

If anything, he hoped to take the money and never look back. Rob would never suspect a thing.

A few minutes later, and Ricky was gone, the only sign of him being his copious second-hand smoke. The store was closed up and shuttered. The only way in was the same back entrance Rob had used just two days ago.

There were two sides where he might have little visibility coming in. But Arashi knew they had to be quick with their song effects.  

He'd react the instant he could hear them, without a doubt.

"This will be a nice little vacation, Nii-san. I cannot wait to beat all the American losers." Nami quipped, but their brother had no other thought in mind but the bass player that would soon be coming their way.

Trackmaster or not, it was two versus one.  If Nami listened, as she had promised, then success was within reach.

As long as there was no outside interference, then Rob Prototype would be as good as finished.

Fast forward to the next track...

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

-----

-----

RETURN OF THE SPACE COWBOY: PART TWO

-----

Tokyo was such a massive city. Nami felt like she could walk into every arcade in all the city's nooks and crannies and still she wouldn't have seen even a fraction of it.

With what little money they had, Arashi and Nami rarely left their district. Nami didn't want to admit it to herself, but as she waited in her seat on the train to Minato, she knew that Arashi was the sole reason they could even afford to go in the first place.

She played with her hair as she sat between two large businessman.

The train was very crowded, and unfortunately for her, they traveled so infrequently that Nami was not at all used to it. She shifted from the discomfort of being so close to these square-shouldered men.

A few feet in front of her, Arashi stood silently. Hand on the train bar, he was almost like a statue in both expression and posture.

Like all Music Masters, Nami could clearly hear the sound of music coming from his headphones. Whatever Japanese rock he had playing, it never seemed like he ever actually enjoyed the music, and she could only wonder if he was just mentally preparing himself for any trials to come.

Craning her neck ever so slightly, Nami tried to distract herself with the cityscape behind her. Her brother insisted that she not listen to music on the train ride.

She relented, but it still annoyed her beyond words that he had so little faith in her self control.

In another twenty minutes, they would be at their destination. The bullet train moved so smoothly despite its high speed.

Meanwhile, Arashi seemed beyond confident that they would have the job and be on their way to America by the end of the day.

Nami leaned back as her mind drifted. From what she remembered, this had all started when Arashi had borrowed a significant amount of money from the Osaka-based Ensemble known as God Symphony. It's all that had been keeping them afloat for the last few months. Now, God Symphony was expecting full repayment of said loan.

But there was a way out of their problem, and it was undeniably simple.

If they successfully captured one of the most dangerous Trackmasters in North America, then that would be enough to make all their problems disappear.

Simple, but certainly not easy.

Even Nami wasn't so arrogant to think otherwise.

-----

"Don't say anything."

She of course had initially balked at the notion, but Arashi insisted before they'd even gotten to the street corner.

"I mean that, Nami. Don't say a single word."

That had been Arashi's single request of her once they had arrived at the Zero Beat Symphon in Minato. Situated underneath the prefecture headquarters of EMI Music itself, it represented Zero Beat's largest powerbase in the entire country.

Once they'd made it inside the main foyer, the doormen seemed to instantly recognize who they were. And once they were accounted for, a young lady graciously welcomed them both, before leading them to an elevator that previously housed music stars and executives alike.

A plastic smile remained on their escort's face as Arashi and Nami stood by.

With a quick motion, she pressed the elevator buttons in an odd, abstract formation. Once finished, their metallic surface glowed a faded teal, before the elevator itself descended with sudden speed.

Nami grabbed onto one of the hand holds nearby in reaction to the drop, but her brother seemed unaffected. He kept his perfect posture until the elevator finally came to a halt.

Slowly, it opened, and the lady leading them beckoned to be followed. Like most Symphons, the wall, floor and ceiling seemed to be made of a white and pristine surface, giving the place a sterile atmosphere.

It was a good five minute walk to the staging area for those waiting to meet with the resident Fourth Beat. Fortunately for the Nagataki siblings, the receptionist simply nodded at their escort once they arrived. Without words, the trio was allowed to pass.

Around the corner of the hall, they stopped in front of a large white door belonging to the office of the Fourth Beat. It easily stood out with its distinctly gold design of the initials "ZB" emblazoned on it.

"The interested party is here." said their escort over a small intercom next to the door.

"Let them through."

The voice on the other line was gravelly, but clearly feminine. It almost sounded like she didn't want to let them in.

Nevertheless, the door shifted upward into the grand space ahead.

Seeing that her task was done, the lady who had been leading them bowed quickly out of respect, before making her way out of the hall in the other direction.

They looked at each other for a moment, as if about to enter some unknown oblivion. But despite any doubts, Nami and Arashi entered.

The room was enormous, and there were but two small white seats set up for their comfort. In front of them stood three towering amplifier speakers, each at least over fifteen feet high.

From what the Nagataki siblings could see, the entire atmosphere of the room mirrored that of a stage.

Spotlights shined on the seats they were expected to sit in, and the central tower was illuminated to the very top, where the Fourth Beat of Tokyo herself sat.

As the Nagataki siblings took their seats, Arashi shot one more look to remind Nami of his one expectation of her. This was a crucial time, and they couldn't afford rashness on her part.

Unfortunately, there was little time for them think. Up above in a throne atop the speaker-tower, her hands worn from the years, the older Japanese woman addressed Arashi in a stern tone of voice.

"A pleasure to meet you. From what I understand, you've come to make an offer to Zero Beat."

Despite her aura of intimidation, Arashi's tone was as succinct as always.

"We're here for Rob Prototype, of course. American Zero Beat has made it obvious they prefer him to be taken in by foreign Music Masters, so they can have deniability. We're here to offer our services in his capture."

Up above, the woman adjusted her glasses as she read over the file on both Nagataki siblings. It detailed their orphaned upbringing, Nami's notoriety in the Akihabara arcade scene, and a job done for God Symphony done over a year ago.

There was little to be gleaned from it, so most of her judgment had to come from Arashi himself. He seemed confident, but that could all just be a front. It wouldn't have been the first time, with all her experience.

"What makes you think you're prepared to face a Trackmaster? Do you know anything about him? Do you know how dangerous he is?" she asked of him, her tone now demanding even from her perch up above.

"I've done some research." Arashi explained, his own gaze unknown underneath his sunglasses.

"He's been known to use a bass guitar for the last twenty years, so one would have to assume he's probably Synkronized with it by now. If anything were to happen to it, it would be like losing a limb. From there, it would be a simple matter to bring him in."

There was such calculated confidence in Arashi's voice. The Fourth Beat skimmed over their file again.

Though she would never say it outright, this job had fallen to the Japan alone. No one seemed willing to take the job against Rob Prototype, especially the majority of European countries that Zero Beat had inquired to originally.

It seemed he was known in some capacity even across the ocean, and the only reason this request had come across her desk is simply because it had been passed on from country to country.

The Fourth Beat of Tokyo, in essence, had the final say if this job would go to the Nagataki siblings. And though her brother seemed prepared, she noticed the girl next to him had been completely still this whole time, eyes forward and almost unblinking.

"If I was to allow this to go forward, and give my authorization to send you overseas," she began, and Nami had to restrain her face from cracking at the mere thought. "Then I would need to be completely sure that your skills suffice."

Arashi stood up now, having been waiting to hear those words since they walked in.

"I'm prepared to do whatever is needed. Is a demonstration in order?"

If anything, the Fourth Beat certainly enjoyed his promptness.

"Yes." she replied.

The Fourth Beat smiled though, her gaze now focused as she pointed a single, red nail at Nami.

"From her."

She clasped her hands together as the spotlight focused on Nami. Nami looked right to Arashi once she realized what was going on. He nodded slightly with approval, and in an instant, her expression changed from the previous blank one to a much more excitable look.

"Alright, if that's what it takes. So you guys have any dance pads around here or what?" she declared, sighing now that she was finally able to speak.

Nami's question was ignored, however, as the other spotlight in the room now shifted from the Fourth Beat to the towering speaker-throne beside her. Slow, decisive steps could be heard as someone made their way down to face Nami.

Meanwhile, Arashi had already gotten to a safe distance as Nami herself stood up, confusion written all over her face.

A few more steps, and from a hidden side wall at the speaker-tower's base, a clean cut Japanese teenager made his entrance.

Nami sized him up for a moment. He was wearing a high school uniform, was quite unassuming, and couldn't have been much older than most of the aspirants who she often faced at Shori-Platinum.

But the situation was clearly different, and her eyes moved quickly once she saw him wordlessly put headphones into both ears.

"Nami!" her brother called out, breaking the silence as he tossed her bright teal headphones. She slid them on quickly, hand already moving to her song of choice.

Unfortunately, the sound of his music entering the air was all she needed to hear to tell her she had been too slow. His song exploded into the air, forming itself like a theme of victory as he struck without mercy.

-----

-----

Her opponent practically dove forward with uncharacteristic speed, his body sheathed in crackling orange wisps of energy. He expected to give her a quick concussion and end the fight as fast as possible. At this speed, it would be almost impossible for her to dodge.

But for Nami Nagataki, his boost in speed meant almost nothing. He still moved like he was underwater.

As he came at her, she deftly leaned back far enough that his closed fist stopped just above the tip of her nose.

Pivoting in place, she then swept her leg out, all the momentum of movement focused in her blow.

As he fell down from the pain in his calf, Nami had already focused on her song. A smile crept on her face as the trance beat played loudly in the air.

She was already winning, and thus she couldn't control the giddiness building up inside her.

-----

-----

Standing up straight, the Japanese girl raised one arm as her chosen song effect materialized around her.

They were the same blocky multicolored arrows that she had seen thousands of times from playing constant rhythm games.

Only now, they hovered around her like angry hornets, each arrow given a physical form and each one now the size of a small missile.

The Fourth Beat watched with anticipation. Her opponent's previously confident expression remained however. He still had the speed advantage, as far he knew.

Focusing the orange energies in his legs, he dashed straight for her, arms spread out like a sumo wrestler. He intended to quickly overpower her and then dislodge her headphones.

But all Nami saw was a flurry of muddy movement that she could read as easily as basic hiragana.

It was over in an instant. The killer arrows from Naoki Maeda's Hyper Eurobeat flew out at her command, each one skewering their mark before embedding themselves in the face of the speaker-tower.

Fortunately for her opponent, no blood would flow onto the pristine white floor tonight. In one precise strike, his headphone wire was cut, and he hung like a marionette from the wall, the arrows having pierced the gaps in his clothing to keep him restrained.

Nami grinned, the gap in her teeth showing in this one satisfying moment.

Up above, the Fourth Beat clapped slowly.

"Impressive. Deji is supposed to be one of our best and brightest."

Deji said nothing as he attempted to pry himself free from the wall, only for Nami to deactivate her song effect a moment later. His clothes relaxed once the arrows dissipated, and he said not a word as he looked up at the now disappointed Fourth Beat.

"Well if he's your best, then I'd hate to see you worst." Nami retorted smugly, much to her brother's annoyance. The Fourth Beat laughed lightly in response, however.

"I'll be sure to review that at a later time, but let us focus on the now."

Nami held her breath in excitement at the Fourth Beat's next words, but as usual, her brother never seemed surprised at anything.

"Please see my receptionist once you leave. She has tickets ready for you for New York City. You'll have access to the auxiliary account as well. I must say, this is somewhat of a shock."

Nami was beside her brother again, his posture perfect as always.

She smiled wide though as he spoke as seriously as ever.

"I appreciate your faith in us. There's one more thing though. It's something I'd like to speak to you about alone."

The Fourth Beat seemed to consider his words, but it was a short debate. She ushered to Nami.

"You heard your brother. We won't be too long."

For once, Arashi gave her a small, reassuring smile. Though she might have argued normally, Nami remembered his one request once before.

So, his sister simply nodded, leaving Arashi alone under the spotlight with the Fourth Beat and her humbled protege.

Once she was gone and the automatic door shut behind her, Arashi adjusted his sunglasses as he began his address.

"I don't want monetary payment once we bring Rob Prototype in."

The Fourth Beat leaned in, her interest piqued. "Oh really? And what might you want instead?"

Arashi's voice seemed to echo throughout the whole place as he said one simple sentence.

"I want you, on behalf of Zero Beat itself, to give God Symphony a message."

His eyes narrowed underneath his sunglasses. Nami could never hear these words, but they had to be said in some fashion nonetheless.

"My sister is off-limits."

-----

-----

On the basest level, Colleen had trouble believing the reality in front of her.

For ten years, Robert Kay had been absent from their lives. He'd up and left to tour Europe for an indefinite amount of time, and chained Colleen to a life of supporting her brother.

By doing this, he'd ruined all chances she'd had of pursuing her dreams, and had remained emotionless as she shouted, cursed and pushed him for destroying her life, and more importantly, Michael's.

Yet here was, standing in her apartment, with the same spare key he had originally had from ten years ago nestled in his hand.

"Please, Colleen. Lower your voice." her uncle asked quietly, though this simple request seemed to enrage her further.

"You really have some nerve showing your face like this." she said simply, before slapping him hard.

Rob didn't even blink however, ignoring the red mark now aching on his right cheek.

"You didn't even call us once. For all I knew, you could have been dead all these years."

Rob tried his best to sound as apologetic as possible. "It's complicated, Colleen. But it was for the best. I couldn't have contacted you even if I wanted to."

The pressure of the situation was beginning to dawn on Colleen now. Tears began to well in her eyes as she absorbed Rob's words. It seemed all her built up stress and anger from the past ten years was coming out all at once.

"Complicated? Do you think that's the word Michael would use? Complicated!? You left us! You left me!"

Rob kept silent as she began to sob, her hands pounding at his chest. It didn't hurt physically, but mentally, it took all of Rob's power to not collapse internally. Finally, her pounding became more and more weakened, and once Rob realized this, he took the opportunity to embrace her as warmly as he could.

"I've got my own things to atone for. But I'm back now. And I want to make up for all the lost time."

Colleen sniffled heavily, looking up at Rob with eyes demanding an answer. It always seemed the same with him though. His wide-brimmed cap always made it seem like you could never tell what he was thinking.

"And what happens if you go again? Are you ready to tell Michael that'll you be leaving him, or are you still too afraid of how he'll react?"

She unfurled from his hug, crossing her arms now as the tears seemed to subside.

Rob proceeded to take off his cap. He revealed his short buzzcut, dull brown eyes, and a promising smile that echoed his nephew's.

"That's not going to happen."

There was but slight creaking as the nearby front door swung open. Rob and Colleen turned to one side in reaction to it.

It was two AM on yet another Friday night, and Michael Kay had only just returned from another of Kim's training sessions.

Assuming Colleen was either at work or asleep, he'd planned on getting a bite from the fridge and drifting off to a peaceful sleep, where he might dream of music and Rob.

But now, only ten feet in front of him, stood his uncle. And this time, it was no mere dream.

He wasn't wearing his cap, but he was wearing the same nice clothes, had the same look on his face, and slung over his shoulder was the same bass guitar from all those years ago.

Michael Kay's body seemed to freeze up, his mouth agape. His mind struggled to process what was in front of him.

In response, Rob simply smiled, uttering but a few words.

"Hey Michael. How you been?"

Fast forward to the next track...

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

-----

-----

WHITE KNUCKLE RIDE: PART FOUR

-----

Happiness did not even begin to describe how Michael Kay was feeling right now.

Right now, in this moment, everything felt like a complete turnaround from the previous day of  total failure and disappointment.

The afro-headed teen had done the seemingly impossible, and found someone to teach him the ins and outs of this incredibly dangerous Music Master business.

Michael had barely been able to sleep last night, his hyperactive nature and huge grin making it obvious to everyone at school that Michael was clearly ecstatic about something.

He walked with pride in his gait as he approached Kim at lunch time. Without asking, he plopped down right in front of her, interrupting Kim just as she was about to take a bite out of a fresh grilled cheese sandwich.

"So..." he began, not even touching his food and his gaze solely on her.

"..when do we get started?"

Kim sighed heavily, the annoyance clear in her tone of voice.

"First of all, I'm eating, so try to exercise your right to shut up."

She took a big bite of her sandwich, chewing quickly before gulping it down in a very unladylike manner.

"Second, we start when I feel like starting. And don't you remember what I said before? I said I'd think about it. No guarantees, Michael."

Michael's expression dropped in an instant. His tone became loud enough that it drew attention from those nearby in the cafeteria without fail.

"Awwww, come on! I helped you! We beat them together! You really going to go and just mess with my hopes like tha-"

Michael could say no more, as a strong hand clasped over his mouth and Kim's face got uncomfortably close to his.

"SHUT UP, you idiot. Didn't I tell you? No mention of any of this, whatsoever."

Michael nodded quickly, her iron grip on the verge of crushing his jawline. Feeling satisfied, Kim let go, taking another bite out of her sandwich and commenting mid-chew.

"Oh, and another thing. Exactly who said you could just sit here? If you think we're friends all of a sudden, I'm sorry for the newsflash, but we're not."

Michael, of course, just looked back and forth in the most conspicuous manner possibly. He gave Kim a thumbs up and winked. "Yeah sure, Kim. Whatever you say..."

She groaned at his stupidity, putting her sandwich down. Now she definitely had lost her appetite.

"You're just not going to stop are you? Fine. Then we might as well start tonight; at midnight sharp in Central Park, by the largest rock formation." she declared, and Michael ears perked up in an instant. Questions still rolled through his mind though, and they came out without him even thinking.

"Uh, won't people see us? Don't you remember how huge the Big YMCA was?" he asked, with Kim just raising a perturbed eyebrow.

"Big YMCA? Really?"

Michael smiled awkwardly in response. "Hey, I had to call it something."

"Just trust me on this. No one's going to see us. That, Afroboy, I can completely guarantee."

"Okay, cool." he replied, clearly ecstatic. "Man, this is gonna be so great."

"Just do me a favor and don't be late." she said, trying for once to hold back the venom in her voice. "I'm wasting enough of my time with you as it is."

Michael stood up, his food still untouched and the gleam in his eyes apparent.

"No worries, Kim! I won't let you down!"

He spun around with glee, while Kim simply put her hand on her forehead and grumbled under her breath.

"Why am I starting to feel like this is all one huge mistake..." she asked herself, hoping that Michael's incessant attitude wasn't going to end up killing her in the night to come.

-----

Michael would have been lying to himself if he thought Kim was being completely honest about meeting him in Central Park on this cold and lonesome night.

He stood alone, right at the base of the rocks they were supposed to meet at, hands stuffed into a tie dye hoodie as the chill air bit at his skin. He had barely curbed his excitement since lunchtime, and it took all of his willpower to not listen to any music up to this point.

But Michael had always been a trusting person, and despite his doubts, he continued to wait diligently for Kim to arrive. She didn't hate him that much already, did she?

He shuddered at the thought. Or maybe that was just the cold.

Then, her familiar voice broke his focus on the unpleasant weather.

"Hopefully that hair is as warm as it looks. It has to be good for something after all." she remarked, with snarkiness and what Michael thought sounded like a joke.

He turned and grinned, just in time to see that small smile on Kim's face change back into her usual disaffected stare.

"Well," she began. "Let's get his over with then. But if you fall and hurt yourself, it's not on my conscious."

Michael chuckled as he followed up towards the rock formation. "Relax. The rocks don't look THAT high."

Kim laughed, surprising Michael quite a bit, before sounding suddenly ominous.

"Who said I was talking about the rocks?"

Michael just chuckled nervously in response, and said nothing more as he followed Kim up the walkable side of the rocks. His afro swayed in the strong breeze the higher they got, but it was a relatively quiet night nonetheless. He could hear cars and honking in the distance, but otherwise the park was a tranquil as Michael remembered.

He almost dipped into memories of coming here with Rob, of a happier and simpler time, when Kim pulled him back into reality.

They had finally reached the summit, and Kim took a brief moment to take in the view before speaking.

"So before I even say anything, I'll allow you one stupid question, because I know you're going to ask it anyway."

A light bulb popped in Michael Kay's head. One question pushed out before the others.

"So what are Music Masters, anyway?"

Kim shrugged, somewhat surprised that it wasn't as stupid as she had expected.

"Beats me. From what I heard, there have been Music Masters as long as Mozart apparently. I guess what makes us different from normal people is that our music is lethal."

Michael rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit more comfortable now. "Tell me about it. Half the time, I feel like I'll kill myself if I listen to a new song."

In response, Kim pulled up her headphones, now becoming more serious.

"Then we might as well start with the basics. First off, you need to know how to Harmonize. You were lucky once, but I doubt you'll be that lucky twice."

She searched for an appropriate song on her music player, unfazed by Michael's expression of total laser focus.

"Even you should have realized this by now. You don't just listen to music. You have to focus on it. You have to feel every bass strum, every guitar string, every chord and every verse. It sounds really freaking sappy, but if you want the song effect, you have to become one with the song." she explained. Michael just slowly nodded in agreement.

She finally found the song she was looking for, and tapped play.

It was barely more than a second, and suddenly the air was filled with the sound of a very fast, very loud song.  The singer belted out loudly as a crooning, bleated opening.

-----

  -----

But it wasn't the music that made Michael drop his jaw. As he watched with awe, he could see that behind Kim, who had her eyes closed and looked surprisingly calm, rose a gigantic being of monstrous proportions.

To the hyperactive tune of Blitzkrieg Bop, it glowed with sickly ethereal light. Manifesting into existence within a heartbeat, it soon became much clearer what this thing was exactly.

It stood just as tall as the Big YMCA, its thick gray smock of a shirt barely covering the skeletal ribs and spinal cord underneath.

One arm was a bony appendage that terminated in vicious claws, and the other was a literal tank cannon, seemingly pulled out of a WWII-era battlefield and grafted onto its shoulder as a permanent fixture.

Its head was an inhuman skull, with dagger-like teeth and glowing eldritch violet eyes. Somehow, a tall purple mohawk sprouted from its head.

Kim took a breath, finally. She looked back at her musical monstrosity, smiling with satisfaction.

"Unlike yours, my Sentonal is good enough without a nickname." she remarked, as Michael got closer, still in disbelief at the monster before him.

"So that's what they're called, huh? Sentonals..." he said, before a grin emerged on his face. "Hollywood swinging, this is so cool..."

"It's pretty rad, I guess." Kim replied, clearly a little proud of herself now. "I've had this one for two years now. It gets the job done."

"Isn't it a little risky having it out in the open here?" Michael remarked, suddenly realizing just how huge her Sentonal was as it towered over them.

Even in the cold, he could feel the slightest bead of sweat forming on his forehead as he realized just how intimidating this thing really was.

"Normal people can't hear the music. And if they can't hear the music, they can't see what the song actually does. Still doesn't mean you can't hurt someone with them though, so don't be an idiot." she lectured, clearly serious about the last part.

"I know that's particularly hard in your case."

Michael ignored her insult, too worried instead about the prospect of being an actual Music Master now.

"You know," Michael began, looking down at this music player as he spoke. "I think I've already figured out this Harmonizing stuff."

He laughed. "And I lost yet another lava lamp from it. But I get it now, I think."

"You say that now." Kim exclaimed, pushing her mental muscles to cause her Sentonal to drop one massive clawed hand only a few feet from Michael.  Kim couldn't help but snicker to herself. She couldn't let Michael get too comfortable, after all.

His blood ran cold at the sheer size of it and the mere sound of impact. He would never say it out loud, but the thought that Kim might have just lured him here to kill him zoomed through his head.  

"But let me tell you something; another Music Master's not going to care how long you take to sync up with your song. They're just going to have their Sentonal rip your head off before you can even press play."

Kim then looked straight at Michael, before pressing pause on her music player. In an instant, the monstrous military skeleton phased out of existence.

"And I'm sure figured this one out pretty quick from the fight with those Zero Beat losers. No headphones? No music. And no music, means no song effect."

Michael nodded excitedly in response. The fear was gone, and he was now barely containing his eagerness to try out song. "Sure, sure, I totally understand. Now can I try one of these or what?"

Kim crossed her arms. This was the moment of truth, she thought to herself.

"Just please don't be an idiot about this."

Michael nodded in agreement, scrolling through the myriad of songs in this particular playlist.

He could still hardly fathom that each of these songs, whether they be funk, disco, or the occasional rock or reggae, now housed within them some fantastic and dangerous power. He debated on choosing a new song to try, but judging from the lack of confidence in Kim's expression, Michael quickly realized it was probably not the best of ideas.

So with relative ease, he clicked his thumb over Canned Heat.

Acting by Kim's example, Michael Kay closed his eyes and exhaled deeply as he allowed himself to travel to musical nirvana.

It was only about two seconds in real time, but for Michael, he was lost in a self-imposed funk odyssey for what felt like an eternity.

He allowed the heat to surge through him like it was a living thing, and he felt each high noted verse hit him with their simmering crescendos.

Each powerful bass strum was like a wave through his soul, and the jingling of the guitar riff complimented it with a sweet melody.

This was Harmonization. And when Michael really thought about it, it was just like second nature to him.

Kim squinted suddenly as a bright aura of red-orange light lit up the night like a beacon. It remained poised over Michael's right hand and both of his heels, illuminating him in its warm glow.

Michael clenched his hand, watching the heat grow and contract to his will. He smiled with satisfaction as his music played in the air.

But Kim wasn't impressed just yet. She cracked her knuckles, declaring a challenge to Michael in his newly powered state.

"Now let's get down to business, Afroboy. I want to you tag me." Kim began, pointing right at the middle of her chest.

"Right here."

There was an unnatural reverb in Michael's voice from his active song effect, but he still sounded unsure.

"You serious, Kim? You know with this on, I could totally burn your shirt off..." he informed her, his eyes suddenly wandering as he found himself wondering the color of Kim's underwear.

Kim laughed out loud in response though, breaking his train of thought. "Yeah, you wish. But if you're so sure, then come on. Let's see what you got."

Clearly, she was serious now, as she took up a boxing stance. The situation was becoming all too familiar.

In response, Michael's expression hardened, as he closed the hand exuding all the heat, and straightened his posture in anticipation.

But even with Canned Heat up and running, everything was becoming a repeat of past events. Weaving with peerless speed, Kim was upon Michael much quicker than he expected.

Instinctively, his hand went for the front of her purple top. Whether he was going to embarrass her or not, he wasn't going down like a chump. His own reaction speed was quick, and in his mind, he could practically hear the sizzling noise of burnt clothing already.

But Michael, always quick to assume, felt his wrist being wrenched backwards quite painfully as Kim clasped onto it with one hand, pushing his deadly heat away with seemingly little effort.

Then came a hard knee to the stomach, and Michael was down on his knees, gasping for air like a landlocked fish.

"H-Hey!" he choked out.  "That was a cheap shot!"

"Oh please!  Don't be such a baby." Kim said, clearly mocking him now. "I know I didn't hit you that hard."

Michael gritted his teeth, now pissed, as the heat flared bright in his heels. He moved quickly, a mixture of adrenaline and anger fueling him.

In one swift, fluid motion, his legs went into a windmill, and before Kim knew it, she went from standing triumphant to flat on her butt and staring up at the night sky.

"Two can play at that game, Kim." Michael declared with glee, as he basically straddled Kim, his heat-infused hand now hovering just a few feet above her chest.

Of course, it didn't take long even for Michael to realize the awkwardness of the situation, and what followed was a few seconds of silence as Kim merely looked at him in disbelief and he debated actually burning off her shirt.

Finally, she got sick of all the waiting, ending the tension as she easily threw him off her. Michael couldn't see it, but Kim was trying pretty hard to hide the pink flush that had permeated her cheeks.

Even she hadn't expected him to get that close, but she hid it well in the tone of her voice.

"God, you're such a coward. Well, whatever. At least you're not a complete failure." she slyly commented , causing Michael's face to glow in self-satisfaction.

He never expected a compliment from Kim anytime in the next century, and he completely fell for the opportunity to bask in it.

"Well, it was nothing, rea-" he began, only to be jolted out of his words as Kim's hand darted for his headphone wire. She jerked down hard as she grabbed hold of it, and both of Michael's earbuds came plummeting down to the rocky ground.

The song stopped playing in the next instant, and Michael's hand went cold in response. Too surprised by her trick to say anything, he barely struggled as Kim pushed him down, now putting him in the precarious position as she pinned her with all her strength.

"You really have a big mouth." Kim said in a low voice, as she leaned down, her face now uncomfortably close to his. "And you let your guard down like no tomorrow. Now just imagine if I was using one of my song effects. Do you know how easy this would be?"

Michael said nothing in response, but the look of defeat on his face was obvious. Kim held him down for a few more seconds, oddly relishing the power drunk moment, before finally letting go and standing up.

"The point is: you fight like a blind man in a straitjacket. But luckily for you, I guess the time has come for me to be cursed with a charity case. Congratulations, Afroboy."

Michael finally got himself back up, rotating his wrist as the previous pain subsided. "Thanks, Kim. Because that makes me feel soooooo much better."

She bumped in the shoulder, though playfully. She actually smiled for once.

"Hey, be glad enough that I'm still even here. Amazing as it is, you might not be completely hopeless just yet."

Thankfully, those words were more than enough to raise Michael's spirits.

It was so strange to him, having heard so many bad things about Kim, having nearly been put in the hospital by her, and now here he was training with her.

It was like a change from night to day, but it was happening to him in Central Park on this lonely rock formation nevertheless.

Training together in the cold night air, here they were, side by side as Music Masters.

Though she would never admit it, it was just about now that Kim realized that she hadn't been in a truly foul mood this whole time.  In fact, she didn't remember the last time she'd felt this calm, this relaxed, or if she dare said it, this carefree.

A fleeting memory of Seth entered her mind.  His award-winning grin, his tall blue mohawk, his stupid colorful Hawaiian shirts, and his masterful guitar playing hit her with a wave of emotion.

She could almost see a fleeting vision of him as Michael laughed out loud.  Kim shook it away though as they continued to train.  That was the last thing she needed to think about right now.

-----

Down below, where the trail through Central Park winded away from the nearby street entrance, someone was busy watching the dancing lights and listening to the faint music up above.

Completely out of Michael and Kim's sight, a tall, fair-skinned teenager with shaggy blond hair smiled to himself, hands in his pockets, as he seemed to wistfully observe the situation in front of him.

He could hear bits and pieces of their music, and the unnatural colored lights made it beyond obvious just what was going on high above above.

He said but a few words  to himself under his breath, and his tone of voice was anything but honest.

"New blood in the neighborhood, huh?"

He laughed to himself, clearly satisfied.

"Heh.  Just what I've been waiting for."

Fast forward to the next track....