Wait No

“Look out behind you!” The man shouted, pointing behind Tsubasa. He stepped behind the bar proper and ducked down as three more of the larger thugs stepped in. They seemed to grow as they entered the room, filling it with their bulk, rather like inflatable balloons with muscle instead of air. Tsu analyzed them for a moment, trying to assess some weakness.

The far left one had a scar under his right eye, so clearly the best identifier for him would be Right Eye. The one in the center seemed to have been the victim of a fiery attack previously which hadn’t fully healed, leaving him with peeling skin. He would be known as Suntan. Finally, the third one had no distinguishing features other than being really ugly. He would be called Third One. As he mentally worked out how to take the three of them down, he realized he’d misjudged their distance from him. Rather, he’d misjudged how quickly they could move due to their size. In a panic, he pulled his hand back to once again reach for the sonic spell that had helped him before, but Right Eye was on him quicker than he could shout the name of the spell (the most critical part of casting any magic).

“Oh this is a pickle,” Tsubasa said, just before the first one punched Tsu square in the chest. It sent him flying back, down the hallway that the owner and the first thug had come from. Unfortunately, it seemed that traveling straight back as he had lead to a stairwell, down which Tsubasa then tumbled. Fortunately, the little flying squirrel clinging to him evacuated his hood before Tsu smashed into the wall at the base of the stair. That’s a concussion. Maybe two? Can you have two concussions? The young man slowly got to his feet and said, “Is that all you got? Come o--” Before he could finish the associated gesture that came with the taunting sentence, Suntan was on him like a fly on crap, lifting him by the scruff forcefully and smashing him against the wall again. And again. And then a third time. Tsubasa made eye contact with him and asked, “What are you afraid of?” His eyes began to glow red, and Suntan’s did the same thing before he squirmed back, dropping Tsu to the ground.

Thankfully the kid landed on two feet rather than struggling from the ground. This gave him a chance to block the next hit from Third One. These guys were not good at taking turns. Third one dropped a fist down on Tsubasa, which the comparatively diminutive teen barely managed to block. Grunting with effort he pushed the fist away, retaliating as quickly as he was able. He pressed his hand against Third One’s chest and shouted, “Bass Drop!” Sending a spiraling wave of energy through him, which slammed him in a whirlwind to the ground. Having knocked the other two down into the basement, he hurried back up the stairs. Meanwhile Right Eye was reaching over to untangle the electric whip Tsubasa had set on the first thug. “Wait!” Tsu shouted.

Too late. Right Eye grabbed the whip and tried to pull it, sending a surge of electricity against him. No, beyond that, when he tried to pull away, the whip cut through him like a hot knife through a lot of things. Right Eye pulled his hand away, missing three fingers. “What the hell— Demons Den.” He murmured to himself. Looking over towards Right Eye he said, “Hey. Demons Den. Run by actual demons??”

Right Eye answered his question by turning red and growing, if possible, a bit larger. His fingers plumped back into existence like hot dogs. “Use light magic, little priest! Gonna teach you!!” He roared. His eyes flashed with a burnt yellow glow, and horns sprouted from his head. Typical demon stuff. Two mirroring roars behind him reminded Tsubasa that this was one on three, and that it was not going to be a fair fight here. Fine.

“I’m not a priest,” Tsubasa tried to explain, “I just kinda do that sometimes!” He pressed his hands together as though in prayer and pulled them apart, a wave of water spreading over. It washed over him like a baptism, leaving him completely dry but protecting him with a shield of healing magic. This would not only allow him to recover, it would collect a portion of the damage from them and allow him to recharge his energy from it. The exhaustion that ran through him from Bass Drop had faded, bringing him back to one hundred and allowing him to get going again. The water magic was also helping him clear his head, allowing him to think more clearly. Which was good, because he never felt as though he could spare any IQ points as it were.

First thing to do was not be surrounded by them. He closed his eyes listening for the two behind him. Patience, Dayu had taught him. Listen to the trees blowing, listen for the cracking of the sticks under the deer and— There. He crouched down and gave a hard glare at the stairs before him, using the force of the energy created to throw himself backwards against whichever of the two was trying to attack him. He used the momentum to place one hand on the handrail and throw his other foot against the wall, managing a full cartwheel around before one of the demons grabbed his hand — his main source of balance— and pulled it off of the handrail. Tsubasa nearly lost his full balance and collapsed. Thankfully he had rounded the flip enough that all he did was do a superhero landing on the concrete of the basement. Cellar? What was the difference again?

This was really not the time.

He got to his feet and eyed them up. Third One and Suntan had taken some hits. Right Eye was probably the best off. “Alright,” He said, “So you guys are gonna beat me up.” His hoodie felt wrong. This wasn’t his battle gear, and he had come in wholly unprepared for this much combat.

“Kill you,” Right Eye said, “Gonna kill you.” The three of them were cornering him against a few boxes of some alcoholic beverages.

“Right, yeah, that’s what I meant. Killing,” Tsubasa continued to back up until his back hit the wall. The hoodie had been designed just like the other one. It would be here for him. It couldn’t sustain the full transformation, but it had proven its ability to protect him. Next came the weapon summoning. But he needed them a little bit closer. “So after you do that. Where are you gonna go? Who are you gonna talk to?”

“Ask stupid questions,” Right Eye said, “Gonna go back to the hideout. Gonna talk to Samiel, tell him old man wasted his last chance. Burn it down! Burn your body down with it maybe!”

“Maybe just eat you,” Suntan said. He had an absolutely malicious grin on his face, two tusked teeth curled inwards as he seemed to already be slobbering all over himself at the thought of devouring the young man.

“Yeah! Yeah eat you!” Third One said, his voice unusually high pitched for one of his size and stature. “Eat the little human and eat his bones!”

“Nice addition, that’s helpful,” Tsubasa said. Now he knew who was in charge and where they were. Time to do things. He could finish them all quickly enough with the big one. He started off with a wave of thunder, enough to force all of them to hobble back and give him space to summon. He pressed his hands against both of his sleeves, and began to conjure up an impressively large gun. Unfortunately his movement was predicted and the summoning too slow. Before he could complete it, one of the hands was smashed against his own forearm by Right Eye. A sickening crunch and the screaming of his own nerves told him that hand was out of order for a bit. He changed tactics and pressed one hand into his sleeve and pulled out a small handgun, glowing red with a hunting knife attached to the underside.

“Bottle Rocket!” He called, the gun’s materialization completing in his hand, “Have a Firecracker.” He jammed it into the face of Third One, causing a bright flash that caught all three of them by surprise, but burned a hole into the primary target’s cheek as the gun fired through him and into the stone wall behind. As Third One stumbled back, Tsubasa ducked a wide swing from Suntan and fired again at Third One. “Roman Candle!” A series of shots fired into the chest of Third One, each of them sparking and bursting over and over, causing him to jerk and stumble backwards with considerable force. By the time the explosions stopped, Third One wasn’t moving anymore.

Before he could conceive of a celebration, Right Eye pressed his hand hard against his forearm again, slamming him back into the wooden crates and turning that original crunch into a grinding noise. Tsubasa let out a cry of pain. He’d been injured before, but every nerve in his hand was caterwauling in protest now. Catching himself before he could pass out, he regained himself with thoughts of serenity taught to him by Dayu. “Uh oh folks,” Tsubasa murmured to himself. “How’s ol’ Tsu gonna get himself out of this one?”