[u][b]Al[/b][/u]

[u]Meanwhile in Japan, Tokyo Prefecture at 02:30 PM or so...[/u]

[i]No matter where you go, there you are.[/i]

There Al stood, hands in his pockets looking over the field of heads out to the busy intersection. Steel structures towered overhead, vehicles lined up nose to tail down the paved streets. There were boards of all kinds and signs too, all written in a dialect foreign to him. More often than not their meanings were not lost on him however. Buy this, buy that! Come spend your money here! The words changed but the meaning remained.

Being in Japan Al stood over a foot taller than everyone for the most part. Standing out was something he was used to by this point. It's been a while since that fateful day he was attacked. It was as if in the eyes of the public he had suddenly transformed, like a veritable werewolf. They didn't fear him though. It wasn't like that. It was just... Different. Nomads were people who were apart from everyone else, different, So when Al became one suddenly the sheer stigma of the title clung to him.

Funny. He didn't feel different at all. He was still his dreary, listless self, still passing through life as though he hadn't really lived the things he did. No matter how people saw him he was still him.

_
At this point he had long relinquished any meaningful attempt to grasp the ways of people around him. Traveling from country to country just to fight for some more money so he could afford to travel to another country, another fight. It was wearisome, something he did not care strongly for. Fighting was but a means to an end, that end being to find something, anything that could lead him back to those guys that attacked him in the first place. He had little stakes in the actual victories or losses he sustained along the way.

The lights turned red, bringing one cycle of traffic to a close to open way for another one. The walk signal came alight as well and the crowd he was standing in started walking their way across. Al crossed as well as his destination was just across the road. The Annual Japanese Championship, something that was the source of some stir as it had come in the relative wake of the events in Rio. Hosting another fighting tournament of a similar breed while the last big disaster was still on people's lips was a gutsy choice. Either that or there was more to this tournament than just entertainment for an audience. If there was something more to this he figured it was best if he showed. He'd of been kicking himself if he chose to sit this one out right as something of a lead reared it's ugly head out there.

Just as he was crossing he felt drops upon the back of his head, something light, less than a drizzle even. He looked up to make sure it wasn't something foul. Nothing, just a clear sky which seemed to start growing a little greyer as clouds started to gather. It was a little strange but nothing that bothered him too strongly. He just kept on forward, ignoring the slight bit of moisture which reached him.

_
At last he finally made his way to the place in question. He had gotten lost a couple times just on the way from his hotel room to here. Not speaking the local language he mostly got by on land marks and a bit of dumb luck. The lobby looked very similar to any othe bustling local center, just thousands upon thousands of Japanese people walking to and fro. What seperated it from other places was the presence of unique characters, folks that were like him in that they didn't fit in with the crowd. They were all sorts, each sporting the gait of a fighter in their own sense.

[i]Looks like this is the place[/i] He looked at the pamphlet in his hand. It presented a general blurb about the tournament as well as where to find it, luckily in a language he could read which was only one as he was not the most cultured sort. He walked up to the front desk which had a nice young Japanese lady sitting behind it.

"Er... This the fighting tournament thing?" His plain toned voice had a sound of uncertainty about it. That was largely due to the fact that he was uncertain.

[b]"Yes, this is the Annual Japanese Championship. Tickets to the stadium are twenty three hundred yen."[/b] She answered him politely with a friendly smile.

"Tickets? Ah, no. I came to sign up as a fighter. A contestant, you know?"

[b]"Oh. In that case you'll need to pay a twenty three thousand yen signup fee and sign these waivers."[/b]

"Twenty three thousand? Yikes, that's like, er, two hundred and thirty bucks."

Though the price for entry was high for folks like Al he had some money set aside from his last winnings to pay for his entry. After all this wasn't his first time getting shaken down by tournament registrars. Handing over the money he grabbed the waivers and took a seat over at the far end of the benches, away from any unwanted company by about at least a seat or two. Bracing the papers against his knee he gave them a quick read over before returning to the front desk. He would of signed them where he was sitting but he hadn't the forethought to bring a pencil or pen along so he had to use the desk one which was chained to the desk. It sure was the sign of a shitty world when people didn't even have enough common decency to not steal people's pens, resulting in these ridiculous pen protection measures.

After Al had signed and handed back the waivers they led him to a room where they ran down what he had brought and scanned him to make sure he hadn't brought anything that wasn't declared beforehand. Just the usual safety precautions these dubiously legal sports had to carry out to ensure the safety of people before they step into the ring. Once the contestants enter it seemed it was no holds barred, an outright blood sport where little wasn't allowed. At least, that's the impression it gave Al. He had little clue as to what was up with this one. He figured he'd have time to read the rules to tournament combat while he waited to be called up to fight.

After being given his number and told to wait for a while he made his way along when he spotted a coffee shop, something that drew his eye immediately. Set in the building that hosted the tournament was a plain old-fashioned cafe, not one of those creepy Japanese novelty cafes that Al avoided like the super plague. Stepping in he ordered a black coffee and took a seat at one of the round tables. When his coffee arrived he idly sipped it while he read a written copy of the tournament rules and regulations.

Sitting calmly, drinking coffee and reading something just to occupy his mind. This right there was the high point to his day. The rest was only going to get worse from there.

It always found a way.