In the heights of the stands, a man in black clothing observed the arena, his hands buried in his pockets. His dark eyes, streaked with gold flecks, followed Pinky as she walked towards the combat circle. A thin smile cut his lips.
"Ether..." he murmured, his voice covered by the roar of the crowd but carrying a strange gravity. "That force with which we are all born. From our first cry, the world's first injustice leaps into our faces: everyone has a different gauge. Some, a shot glass. Others... an ocean."
He followed Pinky with his gaze. She seemed small, fragile under the spotlights.
"But size is decoration. True power... is manipulation. How you twist that energy to your will. Every person has their own way. Their signature."
He tilted his head, as if speaking directly to the girl in the arena.
"Pinky... daughter of the heroine Pink Buster. You inherited the ocean. The potential is there. Enormous. But an ocean without a captain is just a stretch of water. Your mother, she had an iron rudder. She forged her Ether into a cannon. All in straight lines. In brute force."
His eyes narrowed.
"The world expects the same from you. A copy. A pale imitation. They look at your pink and see hers. They don't see that your Ether... doesn't strike. It sews. It tears space. Portals. A far more subtle ability. Far more dangerous... if you accept it."
The crowd roared as Viper made his entrance, arrogant, sure of himself.
"So, little one... today, you have a choice. Either you try to imitate your mother's hammer, and you shatter on the anvil. Or you accept the needle that you truly are... and learn to sew a trap from which no one escapes. Will you hide behind mommy's skirts? Or will you weave your own legend?"
---
MAIN ARENA
"AND NOW, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" The voice of Lola, the announcer, made the speakers tremble. "THE FIGHT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! IN THE BLUE CORNER, THE ASSASSIN WHO PUTS A PRICE ON EVERYTHING, THE MAN WHO HUNTS LIKE A SHADOW... VIPEEEEER!"
The cheers were loud, respectful. Viper raised a dagger, an arrogant smile on his lips.
"AND FACING HIM..." Lola made a dramatic pause, her voice becoming slightly condescending. "...OUR YOUNG HOPEFUL! THE DAUGHTER OF OUR DEAR NATIONAL HEROINE... PINK BUSTER! GIVE IT UP FOR... PIIIIINKYYYY!"
The ovation was polite. Too polite. The murmurs from the front rows were clearly audible:
"— She's so tiny, like a doll."
"— Pink Buster was twice her size."
"— It's favoritism, period. She has the name, but does she have the skill?"
"— Look, she doesn't even seem sure of herself. She's gonna burst into tears."
Pinky felt each word like a sting. They're all right. I'm not her. I'm nobody. Her heart hammered wildly. She clenched her fists, but her fingers, used to tracing, remained strangely open, twitching.
In the west stands, Kotobe and One watched intently, though One seemed to have other issues. He had a stomach ache. (Probably from the skewer stand's food.)
Viper sized her up from across the circle. "So, this is the famous heir?" he called out, loud enough to be heard. "I was hoping for at least a challenge. Did you bring a teddy bear for comfort after?"
Laughter erupted. Pinky lowered her eyes, shame burning her cheeks.
"READY?" thundered the referee.
Viper gave a contemptuous nod. Pinky managed to nod, her mouth dry.
— FIGHT!
Viper disappeared.
Not figuratively. He became a green blur, reappearing a meter from Pinky, his two daggers already arcing towards her sides. Fast. Silent. Lethal.
Panic submerged Pinky. Portal! Her arm rose, tracing a circle in the air. A pink halo opened, swallowing a dagger. A second portal opened behind Viper, the blade shooting out.
He evaded it with an elegant hip movement, not even breaking his assault. "Nice magic trick!" he spat, his other dagger tracing a gash on her arm.
OW! The pain was sharp, followed by a cold numbness. Poison.
"OH, A BEAUTIFUL DODGE FROM PINKY! WELL... A SPATIAL DODGE!" commented Lola, a laugh in her voice. "BUT DODGING IS ALL WELL AND GOOD, YOU STILL HAVE TO HURT THE OTHER GUY!"
The audience snickered. "She's just running!" "Where's Pink Buster's power?" "She's afraid of contact!"
Viper made her dance. He was everywhere. A gash on her thigh. A kick to the stomach that knocked the wind out of her. Pinky opened portal after portal, but it was like trying to stop a typhoon with mosquito nets. Each opening cost her dearly in Ether. She panted, sweat and blood stinging her eyes.
I'm worthless. I'm nothing. Everyone can see it.
"So, Princess?" Viper faked her into stumbling back violently. "That's it? Mommy's portals? You have nothing of your own? You're just a faded photocopy."
Faded photocopy. The words pierced her deeper than the blades. A dull anger was born in her chest, beneath the fear.
No.
I AM NOT A COPY.
Viper instinctively followed up with another offensive rush, but the result was not the same.
Viper began to stumble. As if a force was tripping him up. It was Pinky. She was creating mini-portals to unbalance the snake.
He still managed to reach Pinky and yank her by the ponytail that Nagato had kindly prepared for her.
She got up in one sharp movement.
Her gaze changed. The fear didn't leave, but it was joined by a cold, sharp determination. She stopped looking at Viper as an invincible monster. She looked at him as a problem.
He attacked in straight lines. Always. Even his feints ended with a linear commitment. It was his strength. His signature.
And his flaw.
She took a blow to the shoulder, grimacing, but this time, she didn't retreat. She observed. Her mind, used to the complex geometries of portals, began to calculate.
Viper, sure of his dominance, prepared his final move. His daggers gleamed with a dark, thick green. "Enough playing. VIPER'S FANG."
He lunged. A perfect green arrow, straight, at full speed. The ultimate attack.
Time seemed to slow down.
Pinky didn't move.
"SHE'S FROZEN!" screamed Lola.
The audience held its breath.
Pinky raised both hands. In one fluid motion, she traced two minuscule circles in the air.
One, right in front of Viper's chest.
A second one... directly in front of her own fist, which she had pulled back, charged with all the pure, undiluted pink Ether she had left.
To the crowd, it was incomprehensible. "She's opening a door in front of him! And one in front of her own fist! She's punching the air!"
Confusion crossed Viper's gaze, but he was too committed to stop.
He plunged into the first portal.
And disappeared.
To instantly reappear, shooting out of the second portal... right at the spot where Pinky's fist was arriving at full speed.
His eyes, a centimeter from impact, widened in pure horror. Physics had just betrayed him.
Pinky's fist, loaded with cold determination and all her accepted heritage, exploded.
"PINK IMPACT!"
The blow was perfect. It struck Viper squarely in the sternum.
BOOM.
A silent but visible pink shockwave burst out. Viper was thrown backward as if hit by a battering ram. He sailed through the air, landed heavily on his back, and slid to the edge of the circle, where he lay motionless, eyes rolled back, a trickle of blood on his chin.
Total silence.
Then, a murmur ran through the stands. Of disbelief.
The old hunter who had scorned her leaned forward, mouth agape.
The whispering woman fell silent, eyes as big as saucers.
Myers's apprentices weren't laughing anymore. They stared at the arena, dumbfounded.
"...WHAT?" Lola's voice was a thread, broken by astonishment. Then it exploded. "WHAT JUST HAPPENED?! VIPER... VIPER IS DOWN! PINKY... PINKY JUST TURNED THE FIGHT AROUND WITH A SINGLE MOVE! A TACTIC OF GENIUS!"
The murmur became a rumble. Then a roar.
"PIN-KY! PIN-KY! PIN-KY!"
The crowd was on its feet, screaming her name. Her name. Not her mother's. Hers. They chanted, pounded the seats, their faces transformed by pure admiration. They had underestimated her, scorned her. And she had just shut them up with brutal elegance.
Pinky remained in the center, trembling all over, exhausted, her right arm aching. She looked at Viper, unconscious. She looked at her hands. They had trembled with fear. They had traced portals. And they had struck.
Not like you, Mom. Like me.
Suddenly, a movement.
Viper moved. A twitch. Then a rough groan. He slammed a hand on the ground, pushing himself up with monstrous difficulty. His face was bruised, his armor cracked, but his eyes, bloodshot, were fixed on Pinky with concentrated hatred.
"You... little..." He spat blood. "You think it's over?"
Across the circle, Pinky, exhausted but her gaze clear, gathered her courage. She bent her knees, her own hands rising again, ready.
The two adversaries, wounded, at the end of their strength, faced each other for the final exchange.
The crowd held its breath.
The referee raised his hand, ready to blow the whistle.
And...