The first weekend of August, Tokyo, Chiyoda Ward.
Morning sunlight hadn't yet dispelled the thin mist, and the Budokan stood quietly in Kita-no-Maru Park. But this calm was soon shattered. Crowds surged from all directions, like ants returning to their nest, converging on this hall of glory and dreams. Excitent was plain on every face, many sporting Fatal Fury character T-shirts.
Massive Fatal Fury National Finals posters fluttered in the morning breeze. These posters, featuring eight characters (excluding Geese), were a hard-won effort by Takuya, who had persuaded Masami Kurumada, amidst Saint Seiya's hot serialization, to create vivid, life-like artwork that drew fans for photos.
Colorful sponsor banners lined the path to the Budokan, festive as a carnival, with Sega and Fuji TV's logos most prominent.
dia vans had claid pri spots, caras ready, signaling the event's extraordinary attention.
Inside the Budokan, lights snapped on, illuminating the arena like daylight.
Rows of gleaming new arcade cabinets stood under spotlights, each linked to massive CRT screens at the venue's corners, ensuring every spectator had a clear view. The comntary booth, referee desk, and dia area were ticulously organized, reflecting Sega's imnse effort and professionalism.
Compared to the sowhat rushed Tokyo Tech gymnasium, the Budokan was a true top-tier battlefield.
The audience, already seated, buzzed with excitent.
"This national finals is stacked with talent! The regional qualifier clips were insane!"
"No kidding—top players from every prefecture! I ca all the way from Hokkaido!"
"I'm betting on Tokyo's team. They've got Kenta Nagai, the 'Wandering Warrior.' His Joe Higashi tore through five arcades in Osaka!"
"What about that high schooler, Hakuya? Tokyo's dark horse—his Andy is godlike. Can he go all the way?" a bespectacled young man asked, pushing up his glasses, voice full of anticipation.
"Hard to say. The nationals' format is different from the qualifiers. He's young—might lack experience," his friend replied.
Journalists, more analytical, clutched detailed dossiers on every qualifier standout.
"Tokyo's team is the favorite. The Television's coverage made them stars—practically an all-star lineup."
"Yeah, with 'Wandering Warrior' Nagai leading. But don't sleep on other regions—Osaka and Fukuoka have monster newcors with razor-sharp play."
"I think ntality matters more than skill in a tournant like this."
Takuya Nakayama stood in the backstage control room, watching the growing crowd through one-way glass.
Fuji TV's broadcast team was in place, the director finalizing details with the host. Everything was set. Takuya felt a surge of confidence—this battle had to be a triumph for Sega.
At 9:00 a.m. sharp, rousing opening music filled the Budokan, dazzling lights crisscrossing the arena.
First to enter were nine ticulously crafted Fatal Fury cosplayers, circling the main stage twice, striking signature moves and poses, igniting the atmosphere.
As the cosplayers lined up at the stage's edge, the host, mic in hand, strode to the center, brimming with energy.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlen, here and watching at ho!"
"Welco to the highly anticipated Sega First Esports Tournant—Fatal Fury National Finals!"
Thunderous applause and cheers drowned the host's voice, the floor seeming to shake.
The host smiled, waiting for the noise to subside.
"Today, top fighters from Japan's forty-seven prefectures will battle for glory and dreams!"
"They're their regions' pride, the supre warriors of Fatal Fury!"
The big screen flashed player headshots and bios, cheers erupting for well-known nas.
"This national finals introduces an electrifying team format!"
"Each team has three players, submitting their lineup order: Vanguard, Midfield, Anchor."
"Teams start with a one-on-one Vanguard duel."
"The loser exits, the winner faces the opponent's next player, until one team's roster is eliminated!"
"A brutal gauntlet testing not just individual skill but team strategy and resilience!"
"Yesterday's draw set today's elimination bracket!"
"Now, let's give a roaring welco to the first matchup's teams!"
As the host spoke, two teams erged from the tunnels, taking their match zones.
The atmosphere hit fever pitch from the start.
When Tokyo's team was announced, Hakuya's na sparked a stir. Eyes locked on the high schooler in a faded uniform, backpack slung, trailing Kenta Nagai and their third teammate. Unlike his nervous regional qualifier days, Hakuya's gaze was calm, his steps steady.
The grueling match against Nagai and his third-place victory had honed him like a whetstone sharpening raw jade.
In recent days, Nagai had ntored him, sharing targeted advice on mindset and tactics against varied playstyles. Insights on character mastery, spacing, and ntal gas proved invaluable.
Tokyo's first match was against Hokkaido. Hakuya was slotted as Vanguard.
His opponent, Hokkaido's Vanguard, was a burly, bearded middle-aged man who chose Terry Bogard.
The match began.
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