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Twintelle had lost her chance.
That letter, its wax seal, was the hottest ticket for any fighter.
Possession of it brought glory, fame, renown and challenge beyond what the tournaments she fought in offered.
The sender had dropped it into the arena during the biggest match of the year, the finale of the World ARMS Grand Prix – Spring Man vs Byte & Barq. Everyone soon arrived, hungry for the opportunity. There was only one invitation, and the Triple A talent who was star of the screen was brawling Kid Cobra when she had arrived to snatch that crisp white envelope from the air.
Just like that, Twintelle’s chance of attending the Invitational was gone, to her of all people.
Min Min, the dragon-armed.
Min Min, the noodle slinger.
Min Min, pourer of broths packed with vegetables and chunks of meat, fish, or tofu, with an egg cracked over the top if you were feeling particularly in need of protein.
Right at the end she’d made her entrance in dramatic fashion – a trick she had been taught by Twintelle – and secured her entry to the greatest fight in existence.
And there was only one thing Twintelle could do about it.
Crowds melted out of her way as she walked to the Mintendo Noodle House, the family restaurant the fighter always did her best to promote. She had sunglasses on and her face set in a way that discouraged anyone asking for autographs. As she got closer to the establishment, the curiosity and adoration of the crowd turned to fear. Fights were kept to the arena, they must be thinking. Surely Twintelle wouldn’t-
“Va-t’en! Away with you!” She ordered, pushing past the curtains hanging over the doorway. Her command was accompanied by an imperious click of her fingers, like calling action on a scene. In a way, it was. She was Twintelle Productions, and she intended everything to go as her vision dictated.
The cast of characters in that noodle house took their directions seriously. They moved from their spots to anywhere that was far away the carnage about to go down. Her hair, imbued as it was with the same qualities that let Ribbon Girl and Spring Man batter each other across a stage, curled protectively around her as the ‘fists’ materialized around the end. One Chilla glove; a chill fog rising off it, and one Coolerang, ready to swing wide and sneak behind her opponents. The long twin tails of silvery-white with pink highlights they manifested on was all part of her charm, and with herself wrapped so she just had to wait for her opponent’s arrival.
She imagined the ARMS Institute, always instant on finding a way to put her manifestation of the ARMS ability through the test, had already been called – notified by some concerned member of the public about what was going to go down...
“One order chicken noodle soup, egg drop style, and one hot beef bowl, extra spring onion’s up!” Min Min called, stepping out the kitchen to find an almost deserted restaurant save one lone figure. The one she had gone up against countless times, victory falling either way a roughly equal amount of bouts. The girl with the amethyst eyes, former companion to Ribbon Girl. The woman she once loved.
“Twintelle,” she set the bowls down, her voice kept even. “Where’s everyo-”
“Ça va?”
There was a startled cry as the famous fighter’s lengthy locks lashed out to ensnare her, dragging her back in the kind of grab and pull usually followed by the rapid pound of elemental-enhanced fists. Min Min didn’t even have time to transform herself into her battle garb! All she could do was wait for the grab to break and hope the first few punches didn’t dizzy her enough.
The pair had their moments, but she never expected her ex to take losing her chance to Smash this badly. Didn’t she care about her place as a competitor? Attacking out the ring was seriously out of order, heavily punishable, and likely to get her banned for life from the League!
Those disqualifying blows never came.
Just being wrapped in that divine-smelling hair once more – shampooed with vanilla and coconut, conditioned with shea butter and cocoa, with an oil rich in the scents of nutmeg and cinnamon to help strengthen it – was bliss.
The only hit that landed was a kiss on her forehead, tender as could be.
“Félicitations,” Twintelle whispered her congratulations. “Tres bien!”
“I know! I mean, xièxie! I saw you speak on TV.” Min Min explained after thanking her.
She still had an old CRT television set up in one corner of the Mintendo Noodle House, a VCR hooked up to it. Her parents recorded her matches and TV appearances.
She recorded Twintelle’s matches and appearances too, still after all that time. “You didn’t have to come all the way here.”
“Au contraire, I think I did. If you’re going to fight against ze best of the best… maybe we could train together again?” She made the offer, her hands combing through that blonde little noodle bowl-cut that always looked so nice when she had her beanie hat covering it.
“You sure?” Min Min had to ask.
Their breakup, happening behind the scenes as it did, had been an awkward one. Things were said. Things were thrown. Fists were sent speeding across locker rooms and curling round doorways as arguments outside of the arena were brought in and around it. It had taken Mechanica to break them up with the aid of some shock-charged mitts that literally zapped their will to fight.
“Oui.” Twintelle nodded insistently. “What’s past is past. You’ll need someone to help manage your time, assist with training, someone who knows you, how you work best. I’m volunteering. I’ll be your coach.” Her bottom lip didn’t quiver, she was too good for that, but if she let it she knew it always put in a world-class performance.
“Just as friends? None of that… stuff that came before?”
“Certainly not the arguing.” Twintwelle was very specific in the wording of her promise. Of course she still held a candle for Min Min. How could she not? Her drive, her determination, her passion. The way she looked on the red carpet supporting her?
“Coaching and focusing and keeping my condition up?” Min Min probed.
“That’s the intent.” The dark-skinned fighter smiled, her gold bracelets clicking together. “You know the old movies you have such.. love for? We can be like Balboa et Creed! I couldn’t make it to numéro un. Maybe I can get my win through you?”
That made Min Min blink. “But… you remember what happened to Apollo Creed, right?”
Twintelle blinked back. “It’s been too long since I had the chance to sit down with it. I am busy with being in the films rather than seeing them”
“… Well, I can stick it on after you round my customers back up. Did you have to chase them off?” Min Min sighed,
Twintelle waggled her hand uncertainly. “I was not… firm, in how this was going to go?” In the past, she would have dismissed such grunt work, but many hands made a set work, so with great reluctance she thought about letting Min Min go.
Only for a bark to interrupt that chain of thoughts. Byte and Barq were there in their day job with sirens blaring and lights flashing; of course law enforcement would roll out to a possible unauthorized, ARMS-powered brawl.
“Law and order! Release and-”
“It’s okay!” Min Min said quickly. “We’re friends! No fighting!”
“… Ah!” Byte looked at the pair and sighed, quite relieved at the body language on display. The lights stopped flashing and the siren trailed off to nothing as he switched out of enforcement mode. “Love and peace, then. Come, Barq!”
The mono-wheeled robodog gave a friendly yap before trundling out after his partner, leaving just two fighters, former lovers, embraced in friendship for a change, and two unattended bowls of noodles with whoever ordered them likely missing such a delight.
“I will round the customers up again. A few autographs, some photographies, all bon, non?” Twintelle finally relinquished her grip on the latest fighter to join the hallowed halls of the biggest brawl in the known world, one last kiss on her forehead before heading to the door. Acting was all about projection, so she could project to make sure everyone heard that Mintendo Noodle House was back open after a short disruption.
Breathing deeply to lure the masses back, a called order for barbecue pork noodles was surprising, given no one was in the- Twintelle was yanked back inside by Min Min, her Roaster gloves gripping her firmly around the waist.
“Lái! And… got you back!” Her ex laughed as she caught her in the hug with those noodlesque arms, her spiralling green irises bright and merry.
Twintelle knew what she meant – a small part of her heart still hoped for the other meaning, too.