Tales of a Ninja Magician: Of Journeys We Make

Up And Down

A young woman with bubblegum pink hair stopped in place in the middle of a bustling battlefield, captivated by the sight of a tall young man in a flashy shirt kicking and slamming a ball up. The orange-haired rebel performed all sorts of wacky and impressive movements, often picking fights and vaulting over opponents to keep his ball in the air. Even when he tripped up over a handful of passionate competitors he couldn't normally see, the pro athlete seemed dedicated to keeping the ball in the air even if he had to put his limb and life on the line.

"Excuse me," the woman approached the pro athlete, who found a comfortable rhythm pumping his fists into the ball like twin pistons to keep it airborne. Sometimes he put a greater amount of force into his bash just to have enough time to deal with whatever was coming at him before having to send the ball into the air again. "What are you doing right now? Why are you so obsessed with playing with this ball?"

"I'm an airballer. Playing airball is what I do best. I've got no clue about this whole battle royale stuff you guys are doing, so I'm sticking to my guns here, missy..." the spiky-haired young man pointed out with a certain roughness to his voice and tone as he visibly didn't appreciate the distraction. His voice translated that he was struggling to play an endless game of airball at the same time as he was talking to the curious ash-haired cat.

"Hmm... Your approach seems logical from first sight but... How does it translate to winning?" the young lady scratched her cheek. Out of the entire bunch of the magician group, she was someone who stood out as she wore an azure Nakotsumi Mana-style stage magician uniform and appeared to be mimicking the stage magician's general vibe and style. If it weren't for the difference in build with this copycat being taller by a comfortable margin than the stage magician being flattered through imitation as well as gentle differences in eye and hair color and facial features, a much flashier and more childish color scheme of pink and azure to her outfit, the two may have been truly tough to tell apart.

"Don't know... Don't care!" the orange-haired rebel to the societal norms of wanton violence declared through physical strain.

"You must be mocking me. There must be a secret..." the pink-haired magician lady clenched her silky-skin fists with an offended expression on her face. She slipped her hat off and sent it skidding across the arena floor. A handful of blades that lacked any leather straps or handles to be held by sprung forth from the hat like a bouquet. Each sword in the bouquet had a red gemstone attached to its balance center. "If you don't tell me, I'll make you show it to me!" she declared.

The swords all popped out of the hat, twirling in mid-air, and forming a rough star shape as the copycat magician appeared to have unnatural control over the magical swords and positioned them like a sun of steel rays in front of her. "Blade Sorcery: Morningstar!" the magician girl proclaimed, extending her hand and commanding the vertical buzzard of living sword formation to point their tips at the poor overtaxed airballer and plunge right at him.

The flashy athlete stretched his face out in terror, bending and contorting his body to avoid getting impaled but desperately trying to catch the falling ball and kick it with the tip of his foot just to get some precious airtime to it. In airball, a ball wasn't supposed to touch the ground. The team that had the ball fall on their half of the square lost a point. Since there was only one team in this game and the entire arena was the side of the square of that one team, the moment the ball bounced off the ground–the airballer felt like his game would be over and he'd be forever down one point.

Swinging around without altering their angle, the swords went back, prompting the airballer to hop through the middle loop and roll. Tripping over his own feet and desperate, he jumped up to the same formation of swords he had just avoided to get a leg-up and serve the ball with an upward double hand slam.