Strange and Unknown

Number Wars

     "Heymomnotgonnabeatschoolforawhilehopeyouunderstandbye!" my mouth streams out, before immediately hanging up. I sigh, standing outside of a very busy street. Ant lines of people walk all around. Lots of conversations happen around me, the subjects ranging from taxes to dates. I sigh, attempting to absorb everything happening, to no avail. Might as well go inside now and see what I can learn. Sighing, I approach the door, and just before I can grasp the door handle, it cracks open. A hand pops out, and before I could even speak or react, it grabs my wrist and pulls me inside.

     Inside, I see rows and rows of deadly looking weapons, lined up against the wall in front of my. The fresh smell of paint fills the room and goosebumps run through my body. I shudder. I hate fresh paint. It apparently was just applied, as I see drips still rolling down the many creases of the wall. In fact, the wall texture looks rough. As I continue to observe, I see a padded mat covering a majority of the room, a painting of a Korean flag in what looks like the front of the room, and a bright, new light, dangling around 5 meters above on the ceiling. All in all, it looks brand new. A gentle, well, no, it was incredibly rough and almost broke my shoulder, tap wakes me from my somnolence.

     I turn around while clutching my shoulder, which felt bruised. A red hair man, with an anime haircut, and a chin that is 158 degrees, greets me with a long stare at my entire body. It isn't really hard for him too, since he's around 6'3" and I'm only 5'5." IT'S A TEN INCH DIFFERENCE.

     "Hmmm," he hollers, his deep voice echoing throughout the dojo. "Are you here to join the dojo? You will be my first student!" he announces to me, yelling. My eardrums are pounding.

     "Well, it depends, I want to learn a lot within three days, let's just say I have something I absolu-"

     "Is it Number Wars?" he interrupts, and he grins, despite how weird it looks. Shocked, I attempt to open my mouth to speak, but no noise comes out, apart from what sounds to be a "wuhh."

     "Well, if you're fighting in the first event, you'll need to know some of the basics, right?" he asks, before throwing a punch straight to my head. I instinctively dodge to the left, and he misses by a long shot. He throws another attack, this time with his leg, which is much faster. I can't dodge this. I sit there and do nothing as he stops his kick before it hits my face. He grins. "Not bad, you're very gutsy. You'll do well with the right amount of practice. So, do you want to join my dojo?"

     "Depends, how do you know about Number Wars? I want to know that before making a decision."

     "I know because right after my wife died, they came to me and asked if I wanted to join, with winning being anything I wish for. I joined of course." Of course he did, this competition just became 100 times more harder now that I know that a muscular man, who knows how to fight, has joined. Plus, he has an NL. Sh!t.

     "Please don't tell me we're going to be fighting each other," I groan.

     "Depends. If you join my dojo, we could team up," he offers.

     "I guess I don't really have a choice now do I?" I utter, before taking a folded sign-up sheet he conviently had in his pocket. "Pen?" He hands me a pen, and I begin answering each question on the sheet. Date of Birth. March 27, 20XX. Are you married? No. Any medical problems? I wonder if NL's count, they shoved that weird needle into me, who knows if that contained the Flaaare or not. I continue to scribble down answers onto the sheet, wasting no time at all. I hand him the paper, and he looks over it, before refolding it and tucking it back into his pocket.

     "Stay here for a second while I get you your uniform," he commands, before walking toward the weapons behind me. Turning around, I trail him with my eyes, and he walks into the door to the right of all the lethal equipment. I hear lots of rustling, and a white pair of clothes are thrown out of the room, along with a white belt. He walks out afterward, and dusts himself off, like the room is dusty or something, and picks up the clothes, and hands them to me. "Get dressed quickly, there's a restroom the back!" he barks, as he hops onto the padded mat and begins stretching. "Yes sir," I mummur, before dashing off to the back to get dressed. I take off my shirt and try on the top portion of the uniform, which is slightly like a jacket. Except the part where the sides meet up are a little longer, so when I try to extend them to it's full length, it ends up a couple inches past the center of my stomach area. There are also rope-like fabric on the inside of the middle and edge on both sides of the uniform.