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Rita Ma      It's not totally clear how Rita, local precious imouto, found out about the Shrine of Adversity. It's probably for the best that she did, though- who could hurt a girl like that for real? Probably not Zephyrman.

     The "arena" that she chose is an entire town, of sorts. The beautiful, calm ocean stretches out to the horizon in every direction. The "ground" here is the jagged remains of century-old concrete buildings, peeking up above the waves at crooked angles that suggest they collapsed in towards each other. These are connected to each other, and to smaller stationary rafts, by makeshift floating bridges of driftwood, scrap metal, and barrels.

     There are dozens of homes here constructed in similar makeshift-yet-cozy fashion, suggesting a population somewhere in the hundreds. There are even what appear to be businesses or workshops. A pair of watchtowers sit at either end of the approximately U-shaped town, guarding the entrance to its harbor. They- and all of the more recent constructions- are straight and upright, contrasting with the crooked half-collapsed older structures they're built on top of.

     Dozens of seagulls circle overhead, but Rita neglected to simulate any of the townsfolk. That's probably for the best, too.

     The perfectly normal girl is sitting on a piece of rubble near the central residential area, right near the water. Waves lap at the concrete rock and she taps them with the soles of her shoes, just breaking the water tension.

     When Zephyrman enters, she perks up and waves at him, calling him over. "Hi, John!! ... I hope this is okay. I couldn't really think of anywhere else to go..."
Zephyrman      John almost assuredly could not hurt Rita unless his or someone else's life depended on it. Even then he'd probably have trouble. He really likes her, after all - she's the little sister he never had, wide-eyed and eager and adorable, happy to be around him. She's a year older than him but that doesn't mean much to someone who decided that childhood was the weapon to beat the curse of 'grow up'. She's got little sister energy, so she's a little sister.

     Besides, his relationships are already weird, considering.

     The collapsed, calm ocean-city is a sight to see. John whistles appreciatively as he walks over to her with his own cheerful wave. The whole place is...fascinating. It's got a strange feeling to it, though - it's like walking through a ghost town on the calm and collected sea. There's something both magical and sad about it. Something...precious. Like he shouldn't be here, but he's been invited to see it.

     He sits down next to Rita and grins. "It's great. Don't worry. It's beautiful."

     There's a beat.

     "Thanks for letting me see it, Rita."

     John's chosen to wear a pair of shorts and a tee-shirt today. He's got the Gale Whistler in one hand. "So."

     "You wanna know how to fight like a hero, huh?"

     "I bet Hibiki already told you that 'any way you fight is like a hero 'cause you are one,' right? So I can skip that and get to what I bet you really wanna know."

     "Making style into substance. I mean, I could be wrong, but...you wouldn't've asked me to help if that's not at least *something* you wanna do. Yeah?"

     John stands up, his feet wet, and plays his flute. He doesn't bother with the callout - it's not really necessary *right this instant* and it doesn't really help her. He hops backwards onto one of the floating platforms, balancing carefully with his shoulder jets. "Plus some practice, obviously!" He calls, "Show me that strength you showed last night! Don't worry - I promise I can take it!"
Rita Ma      Rita's content to sit companionably with her newfound friend for a few moments, staring out at the sea and sky with a gentle smile. "Really? Every world I go to, it seems like I see prettier things than I've ever seen before. It's almost too much to stand. If where I'm from can seem pretty to someone else, too..."

     She inhales the cool sea breeze, shuts her eyes, and breathes it out. "That makes me happy. Thank you, John."

     When he hops out to the floating platform, she stands up, clenching and unclenching her hands anxiously. She casts her gaze downwards at her reflection in the water. "That's exactly what Hibiki said. And I know she's right, but... it doesn't feel that way. I want to inspire people when I fight, like you do. I want to touch people's hearts, like her and Xion. And I know I'm no good at that."

     "You can teach me that, can't you? I don't know if I'm good at learning, but... I'll try my best." She folds her hands together and gives a brave little smile, before remembering to straighten up into an unpracticed fighting stance.

     I know my body will make it hard. Even when I'm not hungry, I can't trust my reflexes anymore. It tells me to fight like a monster; to rip and bite and pierce with my new limbs. To pounce when I see an opening and roar when I taste blood.

     Even if being a monster is the only reason I'm strong enough to help people... I don't want to be that way. I want to be like you, Zephyrman. Please teach me how.

     To do that, he has to see the raw material he's got to work with. Rita obliges. She takes a deep breath, lets it out, and-

     -a blur of motion, concrete cracking underfoot, a spray of water where she grazes the waves-

     It's too fast to track, too fast to dodge. She grabs him by the face, sweeps him off his feet, and slams the back of his head down against the ground of the floating platform, threatening to break one or the other apart!

     This still feels so wrong. Fighting against a hero of justice like this... I always thought that'd be how I die, when things got too bad to control. But if you tell me it's okay, I'll do my best to trust you!
Zephyrman      "It's beautiful. And it's yours. And I really appreciate you showing me your memories."

     John did in fact ask her to do that. She grabs him and shoves him off his feet. She slams him down into the floating platform hard enough to shatter it. Concrete scatters everywhere. It's a good, solid hit, full of toku sparks erupting around her as he's pushed further down.

     The thrusters roar. A burst of jet engine screaming sends Zephyrman skidding backwards before he goes too deep underwater, parting the waves. He soars up above her and ignites the beam of the Gale Whistler with a flick.

     "Alright! That was pretty strong, Rita!"

     "Now you've gotta put heart into it!"

     John grabs the Gale Whistler with both hands and takes a stance in mid-air. "You've gotta make yourself a symbol. Something that people see and go, 'that's cool'! You've gotta make people believe that if you're around, everything's okay!"

     "And sometimes that's about yelling your attack names, even if it's silly-sounding! You just go with whatever you think sounds the best! You can make it up as you go along!"

     Zephyrman dives. He dives fast towards her, shooting straight down. It looks like he's about to just ram into her - but he hasn't shouted the attack name yet.

     He comes skidding to a halt in mid-air above her, brings the sword up, and shouts,

     "ZEPHYRRRRR TORNADE!"

     The slash never comes near Rita.

     The windstorm, however, does. It's a furious whirling mess of wind fast enough to grab the concrete chunks around her, to grab the water, to whirl and whirl and whirl fast enough that even the wind is biting long before the chunks get involved. It's pure, raw power.

     Over the wind, John shouts, "TORNADE'S NOT EVEN A REAL WORD! BUT IT'S OKAY, AS LONG AS IT MAKES SOME KINDA SENSE!"
Rita Ma      She really ought to dodge. It's unbearably telegraphed. But she's too busy staring at Zephyrman with sparkling, awestruck eyes- he's even more impressive up close like this!

     He really is okay... I was worried. Seeing him up close like this- it's even more breathtaking than when I'm watching him from behind! ... Wait, oh no-

     And thus Rita, who is barely a hundred pounds sopping wet, gets flung backwards and buffeted by the gale-force winds like a ragdoll. Her body displays its involuntary, unnatural agility only then: she twists and contorts in the air to dodge the incoming rubble, kicking off one piece of it to evade another. Her eyes are wide but glassy, seeing everything and focused on nothing.

     When she hits the ground, she flips backwards into a feral low-to-the-ground stance, skidding to a halt on both feet and one hand. Her fingertips have etched furrows into the concrete. For a split second, her expression is eerily emotionless- and then her conscious mind catches up to what just happened, straightens up with a jolt, and covers her own mouth with a hand in surprise.

     I lost myself for a few seconds there. But I didn't drop the disguise, so it's mostly okay. If we're going to fight alongside each other, I can't always hide reactions like that...

     "I... that was amazing, John! But... how am I supposed to think of anything like that? I can try, but my head... it just goes blank. Where do you get those ideas?"

     Although... that building behind me. Isn't that the restaurant where I used to work?

     After a moment's hesitation, Rita dives through the glass window of the restaurant and into its kitchen. Grabbing two blades from its knife-block, she leaps back outside and throws one immediately- a thin fillet knife. It's unlikely to connect, but if Zephyrman dodges it, she closes her right eye and takes aim with knowledge of his evasive maneuvers...

     "Flying... fillet?? Auuuh, I don't know!"

     The second blade, a heavier butcher's knife, is aimed with a razor-sharp predatory intuition. Once again, dodging it is nearly unthinkable.
Zephyrman      Rita flips backwards into her feral stance. For a twenty-year-old girl barely a hundred pounds sopping wet, she's not just agile, she's *dangerous*. Even in a training match John's not stupid enough to take her lightly. He'd be a fool to. He's seen what she can do. There's no way he's going to give her less than his best.

     The eerie, emotionless look gets a frown from behind the mask. What? What was that about? That was bizarre. It didn't quite line up with the Rita he understood. With the Rita he had seen. The Rita he had seen and understood didn't have that kind of...animalistic nature to her. Did she?

     No, the girl who had come over to his secret base hadn't been anything like this. And even her eyes a moment ago were sparkling and delighted. Is it a reflex?

     She asks how she's supposed to think of things, and that takes John out of his thoughts and back into the situation.

     "Well, you just have to put heart into anything you shout! It doesn't matter what you're shouting, as long as it sounds good. You can make the dumbest stuff sound cool as long as you shout it loud enough - and even if people are laughing, that's a good thing, right?"

     "Because, in the end, it all sounds ridiculous." John hangs there in the air. "Everything I do is ridiculous. That's why it's inspiring, you know? Kids...kids want to be ridiculous. People who are kids at heart want to be ridiculous. They want to feel like this all the time."

     "And so you do ridiculous things to reach their hearts. You shout your attacks because they'll shout your attacks. And little by little, I think, you start reaching their hearts through that play. They start idolizing you. Idealizing you. Believing in you."

     "When I was little, I used to run around in a cape with my friends and pretend I could shoot lasers out of my eyes. I grew up wanting to be like that person - somebody who could save people, and put the bad guys in prison." Zephyrman darts sideways, keeping himself just a little mobile as he talks. "And as I matured, I still wanted to be someone who could save people. And I never let go of that, because I never let go of that cape and those laser beam eyes."

     John pauses.

     "Well, okay. The scarf's a pretty decent cape. But Zephyrman doesn't do lasers."

     Rita dives into the store. She grabs two blades and flings the first - and then the second, with laser intuition. The first is blocked by the Gale Whistler, but the second nails him right in the shoulder, a hard hit that leaves it stuck in the suit and produces a *generous* amount of toku sparks. He's not likely bleeding, of course - the suit's *very* durable - but it's still stuck in there real good. She probably got through something.

     Zephyrman's hand goes to the knife and pulls it out with another burst of sparks. He handles it thoughtfully. "That's a good start! But more heart! You want people to shout with you when they see it! You want them to pretend to throw cardboard at each other and shout..."

     "FLYIIIIIIING FILLET!"

     And then he hurls the butcher knife back at her with enough force to punch through the restaurant and come out the other side.
Rita Ma      I got him! But he's not even bleeding, is he? ... No, I'd smell it if he were. I've been scared of hurting him, but I really will have to try harder than that. I'm sorry for underestimating you, Zephyrman!

     Once again, even with the wind-up, she doesn't move until the very last second. Once again, when she does, it's with unbelievable alacrity. Concrete shatters under her feet as she lunges to the side, the knife passing close enough for its edge to graze her cheek and slip between locks of her hair before it passes by to devastate the building behind.

     It's lucky that the smell of my own blood doesn't make me hungry. But doesn't that mean it's not human blood anymore...? No, don't think about that now.

     Once again, she kips up with a roll; this time she doesn't stop moving, instead transitioning fluidly into a sprint, zigzagging back and forth to make further attacks almost impossible. "I never thought you sounded ridiculous, John! It's because you're so confident when you say things like that," she calls back over her shoulder.

     "That confidence... I don't know if I can feel it. But I'll try my best!"

     She's dashing up the 45-degree slope of the largest skyscraper, deftly leaping over its gaping windows and weaving between houses. "Why" isn't immediately obvious, except that the speed of her ascent makes it hard for Zephyrman to keep up his altitude advantage!

     At the very pinnacle of the tilted skyscraper is something like a ham radio tower, maybe twenty feet tall. She grabs one of its constituent pipes and rips it out with her hands, leaving her with an eight-feet-long piece of metal with a jagged end. The way she holds it is reminiscent of a spear.

     "It's easiest if it's something close to my heart, right? So I'll show you..."

     "A Harpoonist's Pride!"

     She takes a superhuman leap off the edge, rocketing towards him with blinding speed. But rather than striking immediately, she plants one hand on his shoulder and pivots to vault off of him, flipping over his head and-

     Where did she go, actually?

     Whichever way Zephyrman looks, Rita's plunging blow comes from behind him, aiming to pierce through his armor with the improvised spear or- if that proves impossible- drive him down to the ground a hundred feet below.
Zephyrman      "It's the confidence that makes it sound cool!"

     "Even if you're not feeling it...even if you're scared, or confused, or worried about what you're doing...you have to remain confident! If not in yourself, then in the people around you!"

     She goes straight up the skyscraper. John goes flying after her, racing as close as he dares without leaving himself totally open. "It's because I can believe in you, and Hibiki, and Pramanix, and C, and everybody else, that I can say these ridiculous things and make them sound confident, Rita!"

     "Hahaha...even though...honestly..."

     He slides backwards a little bit. "Sometimes I'm pretty scared too."

     She leaps with blinding speed. He whirls to follow her - and she gets her hand on him and flips upwards -

     And then hammers directly into the armor. Another blast of sparks, gratuitous and explosive, erupts out of him as they fall. And fall. And fall. And fall.

     They hit the ground. They go through the ground. Everything scatters, debris falling everywhere.

     John still gets back up.

     The suit has a massive gash in the back as he rises and reaches out to grab her by the shoulder. The visor lights up. "Yeah...exactly like that. Put your heart into it. Your spirit."

     "And..."

     "Two words," John adds cheerfully as he discards the Gale Whistler. It vanishes into...somewhere.

     "Always two words!"

     "'cause it sounds the coolest!"

     His foot whips upwards. "HURRIIIIII KIIIIIIIICK!"

     It's not just John's foot that whips up for her. From out of literally nowhere, the massive leg of HurriKaiser comes forth, swinging directly up from underneath them. It swings just underneath Zephyrman, sending him up into the air. He flips backwards on his own jets, one of them sparking from the force of the earlier impact, whirls around, and drives his foot straight for her stomach.

     "ZEPHYYYYYYYYYYYR!"

     "BREAK!!!!"

     He's doing the same thing she did, but with his foot.

     When he crash-lands, there's an explosion, and a Z appears in the sky behind him before blowing away like a cloud.
Rita Ma      "John... I'd never be able to tell that you're scared. You make me feel braver just by being around you! ... That's a lot of rules though?! What if I can't remember all of that! What if-"

     Woah.

     Rita's mouth hangs open as she stares- first at HurriKaiser's disembodied leg, then at Zephyrman's aerobatics. She only begrudgingly remembers to adopt a defensive stance this time, after the conditioning of his first attack: feet a little wider, hands raised in preparation.

     "What's in my heart... I think that's why I'm scared. My heart couldn't inspire anybody, John. It's not-"

     The enormous finisher kick strikes her in the abdomen, driving out whatever self-control and inhibitions she had along with the air in her lungs. This time he's up close to see her glassy, predatory eyes and the inhuman way they defocus. They're dead the same way a shark's are, not staring at him but through him.

     Then she's knocked backwards by the explosion, sailing through the air before she brakes herself by slamming into the exterior wall of a house feet-first. Through the dustcloud, there's an inhuman shriek, a sound like sparks and metal on concrete-

     She's back on him already. Or something is- it's hard to see in the post-explosion dustcloud, and hard to believe that this could be Rita. Something tries to slam him to the ground; something else tries to yank his legs out from under him. When he hits the dirt, something's straddling his chest; sharp claws are scraping over his armor, trying to rip it off his body in pieces or dig sharp claws into exposed chinks like a fish tearing open a crab.

     As the dust clears, that savaging tapers off, and then stops entirely. Rita's on him, taking deep gulps of air. Her eyes are fearful; her tone apologetic.

     "John... John, I'm sorry. I didn't... I don't want you to teach me to be sincere. That isn't any good. Because what's in my heart isn't any good, either. Can't you just... teach me to pretend, instead? Can't we just pretend I'm a hero?"
Zephyrman      He doesn't have any time to process the look in her eyes. They're already going down. It's too late for him to wonder, too late for him to ask, too late for him to question.

     She's on him. She's on top of him immediately, clawing, slashing, raging. She keeps tearing and tearing and tearing - savage, brutal, rough. She's rough. She's strong. She's more than strong - she's.

     Monstrous.

     John's eyes are wide behind the mask only long enough for her to tear it in half. Then she can see his face - but he's not terrified, or at least, he's not projecting being scared. His eyes are determined. Not the determined hero ready to kill the monster, but, as she starts taking deep gulps of air, the determined stare of someone who Just Doesn't Buy It.

     There's the sound of the Gale Whistler, though he's not playing it. His armor drops away. Yeah, he's kinda bloody underneath - apparently impacts DO matter - but it's nothing critical.

     He reaches forward and just drags her into a hug.

     "Hey."

     He rests his chin on her head. He's much taller than she is, after all, so it's not like it's hard. "You didn't do anything wrong. You were actually pretty cool right there."

     There's a big grin on his face. She can feel it against her head. "You know there's a lot of superheroes who do stuff like that, right? Who claw and slash and bite and rip? It's not all guys like me. And kids think that's cool, too. People think that's cool. You know why?"

     His hug tightens. "'cause what they're doing is fighting for what they believe in."

     "I don't know what's in your heart. I can see you're scared of it, and that's okay. I told you that I'm here for you. I told you that I believe in you."

     Fingers go up to mess with her hair lightly. "And that doesn't change. I do what I say I'm gonna do. Always."

     "You're a hero as far as I'm concerned."

     "So believe that you can be one. Believe that whatever's in your heart you can use to make your dreams come true. Believe that, no matter how angry, or how scary, or how bad you think your heart is..."

     "Or how scary you think you are..."

     He ruffles her hair. "I believe in your heroism, Rita. And if you believe in me, if you trust me, then eventually, you'll trust you, too."
Rita Ma      Rita's eyes are starting to well up. Even if her human body is cheap camouflage, even if what's underneath is awful and monstrous, those tears are real- she's crying inside the wrappings, and the tentacles are damning her with their perfect mimicry, shedding hot seawater from the emulated eyes.

     Her pounding heart can't be hidden, either. But she squirms uncomfortably in the hug, unable to convince herself to accept it.

     "John, I..."

     He's bleeding. From this close, it's overwhelming- like I'm being stabbed in the stomach. I want to rip out his throat and drink from the hole until I can feel it warming my gut. I want to pull his muscles off his bones and suck them down one by one.

     I never, ever would. Not to someone like John. But I hate that I can't stop thinking this way. A good person would never have these thoughts.

     "Don't do this to me," she finally says, her voice quiet and a little hoarse. "Don't say that when you don't know how bad it is. I know I'm a good person, because I try so hard to be. But you can't just say things like... you think I really could be a hero."

     She squirms away from the embrace, but stays sitting next to him, facing away. "I wanted you to teach me to pretend. To be a hero for other people; to inspire them, like you and Hibiki do. But I can't believe that about myself. And it hurts too much for you to try to persuade me."
Zephyrman      "You can't inspire people if it doesn't come from the heart."

     She squirms off him. He pokes her in the back. "And if you want to inspire people - if you're someone who asks 'how do I inspire people like you and Hibiki' - then you're someone who can be a hero. That's all there is to it."

     "Somebody who wants to make a difference - who wants to make the world better - is someone who can be a hero."

     He hugs her from behind, again, dragging her back onto his lap. "You're absolutely right. I can't know how bad it is. All I got is a glimpse of what you must've been holding back. Of what you must think is everything you are."

     He scratches behind her ear. It worked for Pramanix! Who knows, maybe little sisters are like MILFs in that regard, and it'll calm her down, too. "But you're trying."

     "That's the important thing."

     His head rests back on hers. "Do you really think that it's more important to just 'be' a good person magically than it is to inspire people by trying, every day, to show them that anybody can be better than they are? I don't. I think that struggling to be better than you are is what everybody should aspire to."

     "You can be a hero. As far as I'm concerned, you *are* one. You're fighting something that'll never go away and you're winning every day."

     "Although," he grins against her head again, "You do need to work on your callouts."

     He holds up two fingers in front of her. "Two words! No articles, no possessives! If you can put an 'er' on the end of it it's even better! Something like..."

     "'Harpoon Prouder!'"

     A big grin on his face.
Zephyrman      "And if you fuck up the syllables and the spelling a little to sound more foreign it sounds even better," he adds cheerfully, "Like...*Harpoon Plouzer*! Although, in your case...I think 'Prouder' is more important."

     His hug tightens. "So you can be proud of who you want to be."
Rita Ma      Zephyrman's attempt to drag her back onto his lap is unsuccessful, rather vehemently- as are all further attempts at showing affection. She brushes them aside with as little forcefulness is necessary to ensure he gets the message, and in the process stands up, taking a couple of steps away down the shattered concrete street. When she glances back over her shoulder, her look is teary again, but also a little sharp.

     "What's wrong with you?" For the first time, she's downshifted into a lower formality voice; it has the tenor of speaking to a junior, albeit still a familiar one.

     "I told you you were hurting me, but you didn't stop talking. You're just as bad as Xion. 'No matter how scary I think I am'- words from somebody who thinks he knows my heart better than I do."

     "Nobody should look up to me. Nobody should be inspired by me. Ever, ever, ever. Don't tell me it's alright. You think it's as easy as just being myself? You think it's as easy as just showing my heart? Sure, why didn't I think of that before? Maybe your heart's too pretty to understand something like this."

     She starts walking off towards the end of a pier, and the exit to the arena. Her hands clench and unclench with restless, body-shaking stress.

     "I wanted you to teach me how to pretend to be somebody worth looking up to. But I guess I was already good at that, huh?"
Zephyrman      John sits there for a minute as Rita gets angry. Gets really angry. He sighs, quietly, as she goes for the throat. She's good at it. What *is* wrong with him, that he can see things this way? Maybe there is something about him that's a little broken. But...well, if he didn't believe in the things he says, if he didn't believe in the way he said them, if he didn't believe in *her*, he'd be making himself a liar. And John Alan James will not be a liar. Not for anybody in the whole world.

     So as she stands up and starts walking away, he says, "I don't know your heart better than you do."

     "But I said I believe in you."

     "And one day you'll believe that I'm not wrong."

     He waves at her, a big grin he doesn't quite feel on his face. It's practically the same thing he said to Pramanix - an assertion that he's stubborn, an assertion that he's willing to keep fighting until they get it, until they can connect with his feelings.

     So when she leaves, he sits down, feet in the water, still bloody, and stares at the horizon quietly.

     "Rita," he says to himself, "You did show me your heart."

     "If something this pretty's in it, it can't be all bad."

     Then he lowers his head, his hair falling in front of his eyes, and waits until the Shrine turns itself off. When it does, he stands up, runs his hands through his hair to get it out of his eyes, sticks them in his pockets, takes out the Gale Whistler, and heads out, playing a quiet little tune as he goes. He's just not the type to sit around and sulk.