Bodhi

Sun Seven sang the tune to his favorite game show as loud and obnoxiously as he was capable. He did this so that no one would hear Bodhi throwing up in the very last stall of the public restrooms.

As they headed back to the stands, Seven threw his arm around the monk and said, "C'mon, Sifu. You gotta stay strong for our boy out there. What would he say if he saw you getting this freaked out over him going next?"

"I know, I know."

The two didn't make it very far before they were stopped by a wall of a very pungent odor. Bodhi did their best to hold it together as they came before the spirit to which the smell belonged.

"Excuse me, but are you er..." the spirit checked his notepad. "Bodhi the Monk?"

Still covering their nose, Bodhi nodded.

The spirit held out his hand. "Hi. I'm –"

"A garlic spirit?" Seven sneered. "Yeah, we can tell."

The stranger narrowed his eyes and gestured to Bodhi. "Their parole officer."

Bodhi quickly dropped their hand. "What do you want?"

The officer made a quick assessment of the monk as he replied, "I want to make sure that you're meeting the terms of your pardon."

Quickly, Bodhi responded, "The only places I go are here, the hotel, and our training grounds... sir."

Seven added, "Officer, I'm the eighth finalist's manager and I can vouch for Sifu here. They've been on their best behavior. Also, sorry I called you garlic."

"That's all right, son. I am garlic." He wrote in his notepad as he spoke. "Everything sounds like it's going good. So that's good. Very good."

The garlic spirit paused and looked up. "And are you aware that if your champion fails to win the Sevenfold Peach, you will be detained by the Rabbit Province until your sentence is fulfilled to their satisfaction?"

Bodhi crossed their arms. "Yeah, I get it."

"Okay then. There's one other thing I want you to be aware of." the officer handed over a pamphlet. "A series of contractually linked construction projects will be opening up in the coming seasons. They'll need labor. I can assure you, it's completely safe. Participation means a shorter sentence. Also, it will give you chance to get some fresh air, see some interesting sights –"

Bodhi didn't even have to look at Seven to know that he was angry. The sun clone smacked the folded paper away. "Hey! Is this construction project funded by Next Dimension by any chance?"

The officer hesitated. "I'm not at liberty to say."

"Well you can just forget it. Because we're winning this thing."

"Fine, but I think you're mistaking this for a friendly suggestion." This time the officer bypassed Seven to make sure Bodhi got the pamphlet. "Monk, it's like this. If you're in the system and you're chosen to work, then you're working. End of story."

The horror behind the news didn't take long to sink in. Bodhi fought to keep their fists from trembling as they accepted the folded paper.

The garlic spirit shot the monk a doubtful look. "Besides, I've been watching your champion this whole time. And I'm... just trying to be realistic."

Bodhi tried to swallow the lump in their throat. This wasn't what they needed to hear. Not right now.

Seven stepped between the two of them. "How's this for realistic? You stink. Go back to wherever it is you came from if that's all you've got to say."

Clearly the garlic spirit was used to comments like this because he was not phased by Seven's rudeness. He took his time pulling out a breathalyzer from his jacket.

"No, I'm not done yet. Open your mouth, monk. I just need to check your BAC and then I'll be on my way."

On the way back to their seats, Bodhi made it very clear that they didn't want Seven saying anything about what happened to Ham Song and especially not to Ritsu.

Seven shot them a hurt look. "I think Ritsu's at least going to want to know about that sketchy construction project. We both know it's Next D behind it. Who's to say they won't drop another bridge on top of their fresh batch of slave labor –"

"Seven."

Bodhi glared Seven into submission.

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Seven relented. "Fine, Sifu. I'll keep my mouth shut. But only because you should be the one to tell him. You wouldn't want Ritsu finding out your new assignment to the bridge by accident. Trust me." He gave the monk one last meaningful look before ripping into a bag of cool ranch chips.

Somewhat at ease that Seven had backed off, Bodhi took this time to think back to their days in prison and their old cellmate – Billie. The monk remembered the little gaming chip that they carried with them at all times.

Billie the Shiba Inu had told them that her Lucky Dungeon program worked much like a paper space. But, Bodhi wondered, could it be moved? Paper spaces had to be stationary in order to function. Would it be possible to disappear inside of the game and have someone stay outside to carry them to safety?

If things went sour with this tournament, it was worth a shot to see. Until then, Bodhi guarded their secret as they practiced the Iron Stomach technique in order to make it through this last test.

Sun Ritsu

"Want a little advice, Sun Ritsu?" Zhaoling asked as they all watched as Sun Liu took her bows.

Wordlessly, and without looking away from the field, Ritsu nodded.

"Wherever it is you'd rather be... put yourself there." Zhaoling paused so his words could sink in. "And stay for as long as you can."

Ritsu closed his eyes, picturing in his mind his ideal setting. "Thank you, Senpai."

That last part slipped out before Ritsu could catch himself. He looked apologetically at Zhaoling.

"I mean –"

Zhaoling cut him off with a rough pat on the back.

"S'okay. You would have made a good kohai. For what it's worth."

"Another piece of advice? Break your leg." Sun Tie Quan interrupted. "Seriously. Break it. I have no desire to watch you suffer any further through this competition."

"Are you actually concerned for Ritsu's well being? Aww. I knew you had a soft side, Tie Quan!" Sparkplug said brightly.

"Yeah right." Sun Tie Quan sneered as he leaned back in his chair and folded his beefy arms. "I can assure you that none of my sides are soft."

The horn rang. Ritsu stood up a little too fast. His staff was already in his hand transformed into the shape that he found the most tolerable – a metal spatula.

I definitely don't have enough qi for what I did last time, Sun Ritsu thought as he entered the middle of the arena. But he had enough training to sense that all that he needed was right here. The natural energy residing in the trash throughout the stadium was a good starting place. Yesterday he had somehow unlocked all of that potential and transformed it into one thousand and one extraordinary lunch heroes.

I need to do whatever I can to tap into it.

Ritsu steadied himself with a breath, trying to drown out the restless undercurrent of curiosity coming off of the audience.

"Woof! Woof!"

Ritsu shut his eyes, trying to tune out the eager voice rising above the others.

"You've got this, Ritsu! And remember that we've got your back!"

Ritsu blinked. He should have been trying to focus, but he couldn't help looking over his shoulder to see who was cheering him on.

Mochou?

The homeless dog spirit waved a giant Lunch Hero sign with hearts drawn all over it. Ritsu recognized some other spirits filling up the same section – his old coworkers! Even the flamingo restaurant manager made it out.

"Gotta be honest, Chow. I don't really know what this guy's backstory is."

"Understandable, Dan. That's why I asked around during that long break. Apparently Sun Ritsu is a former employee of the Lunch Hero burger joint. It might explain why he has chosen to transform his staff into a spatula."

"Oh! Look, Chow! I think he's gonna finally do something! Hold on... did it already happen?"

In a matter of seconds, our idiotic hero was bent double and sweating profusely. He clutched the spatula with both hands, the hilt resting against his heaving abdomen.

Sun Ritsu's legs shook as he attempted to stand up straight. The salt from his sweat burned his eyes, but he dared not lift his hand to wipe his brow. Because balancing on the flat face of the spatula was a solitary lunch hero. By the looks of it, this one was quite ordinary.

"Chow, did I miss something? Why does Sun Ritsu look so out of breath all of a sudden? He looks like he can barely stand."

"I think he might have conjured that hamburger just now, but it all happened so fast. And now it appears that he's using all of his strength to hold it up."

"Don't just stand there!" An angry spirit roared from the sidelines.

"What a loser!"

"Get off the stage!"

Someone broke Ritsu's concentration by chucking an empty soft drink at him. More spirits joined in, showering our loser hero with paper trays, balled-up tin foil, and empty buckets of popcorn.

The judges deliberated briefly amongst themselves before coming to a consensus.

Sailor Sun's voice took on an authoritative tone as she stepped out in front of the audience and announced, "I just received a warning from the arena officials that anyone else who throws another piece of trash will be escorted from the premises!"

Suri stole a worried glance in Ritsu's direction. He averted his eyes and went back to protecting his lunch hero.

"Hey! Dontcha know Sevenfold Peach royalty when you see it? That's right. You leave him alone!"

Mochou's voice was the only thing keeping Ritsu together in that moment, Dear Traveler.

"He makes the best burgers of all time! All of ya are gonna regret sleeping on him!"

"Well, it would appear that Sun Ritsu has at least one spirit who looks up to him."

"Sure thing, but what do you think, Chow? Is that performance lame enough to end up in a disqualification?"

"I think that we're about to find out, Dan."

The judges finally seemed to reach an agreement. The bull judge from Shonen Playground got up and approached Ritsu.

Shan Boshan was hands down the most intimidating of the judges. Powerfully built and nearly three times Sun Ritsu's height, he sauntered onto the platform with a bored look on his bovine face.

"You done, man? Because we've got a long schedule ahead of us." He glanced at his watch.

"Am I done?" Ritsu stared in bewilderment at the judge. Were they really going to kick him off the field?

"Yeah. Do you forfeit?" Boshan looked up from his watch. "Look, we're trying to make sure you don't pass out in front of everyone. Plus, the timer ran out and you ain't got much to show for it."

Ritsu glanced down at the ordinary lunch hero balancing on the flat end of the spatula. With much effort, he raised it a little higher. "B-but I –"

"Pft." Boshan did his best to hold in his laughter. "Call that whatever you want, but this trial is for all things wondrous-and-true." He pounded his fist in the palm of his hand for emphasis.

The attendees were getting worked up again. Sun Surina was doing all that she could to hold their attention with fun music and crowd-pleasing dances.

"Okay, let's call it a day," Boshan brought his hand to Ritsu's back and gave him a little push. "You forfeit."

"No! I don't."

If you can believe it, Dear Traveler, Sun Ritsu's refusal was loud enough to catch the attention of the entire stadium. Sailor Sun's music abruptly ended. The casters held their breaths.

Shan Boshan dropped the easy going smile and squared his shoulders.

"You what now?"

Ritsu took a step back. "I don't forfeit."

Then, realizing who he was talking to, he quickly bowed his head.

"At least try it first," Ritsu dared to meet the bull spirit's gaze. "Please. Try what I made."

After adjusting his grip on his staff, the sun clone pushed it in Shan Boshan's direction. He used every ounce of control that he had left to keep the spatula from shaking. Then he held it there, waiting for the judge to make his move.

The force of the bull spirit ripping the lunch hero off of the spatula nearly knocked Ritsu to the ground.

"Better be glad I'm so damn hungry. Un-freakin-believable."

Shan Boshan rolled his eyes right before he took a massive bite out of the ordinary lunch hero. His powerful jaws made slight work of the grilled meat before he paused and clutched his chest as if he'd just been shot.

That's when an explosion of barking ruptured the silence.

"Oh yeah! That's my guy!"

It was Mochou again, shouting and hopping up and down from the sidelines.

"Did I lie? Did I lie when I told ya? That's the guy who grills the best beef in the whole Ninth Heaven."

Mochou shot to his feet and fired a punch to the sky.

"That's my fry cook hero!"

Shan Boshan looked down at the half-eaten burger in his hand and back up at the sun clone.

"Fry Cook Hero," the judge said, addressing Sun Ritsu. "Can you make... another one of these?"

Bodhi

"That's my fry cook hero!"

As soon as Bodhi heard those words, they closed their eyes and nodded sagely. The monk felt like they could finally breathe.

"What's with you?" Ham Song asked, sounding more concerned than annoyed.

"It's that time you've been waiting for. Watch him stand tall, pig." The monk opened their gray eyes. "Because our champion is starting to believe."

"So then what's happening now, Chow?"

"It would appear that judge Shan Boshan went to escort Sun Ritsu off the platform before he hurt himself. However, Sun Ritsu refused to forfeit."

"And I'm getting word that he actually does have a stage name?"

"Yes, we learned from a rather enthusiastic fan that he's the Fry Cook Hero. Anyhow, it appears that Shan Boshan took one bite out of Sun Ritsu's creation and decided that his performance needed further deliberation among the other judges before moving on."

"Is that why they're all taking bites out of the same burger? Isn't that sort of thing against Code?"

"I think they're making an exception this time, Dan. Based on how exhausted the Fry Cook Hero is, I don't think he can conjure any more food into existence."

Even though nothing was happening, the crowd waited with bated breath. They had seen enough to realize that there was something special going on with Ritsu's food.

With each moment that passed, the trash piles around Ritsu every so slowly shifted. The litter rustled around Ritsu like waves against the shore, as if he were the moon pulling in the tides through its gravity.

Finally, Old Master Laozhi rose to his feet and walked to the outside of the judges' panel in order to address the crowd.

"That which is wondrous and true could be felt more vividly than it can be seen. I've said this before. And nothing today encompasses this sentiment more than the mysteries packed inside that hamburger. It is for this reason..."

His aged, hooded gaze scanned the stadium until it landed on Ritsu.

"That your Fry Cook Hero is advancing to the next round."

With a grand turn and sweep of his sleeves, he returned to his seat.

"Chow! Chow! Chow! Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

There, alone at the center of the platform, Sun Ritsu – the Fry Cook Hero – let his shoulders drop as he tilted his head back and released an agonizing breath. With that single push of inner strength, the crop circle of trash was blown out of bounds.

Sweat pearled away from Ritsu's brow as he basked in the late day sun and stadium lights. With what strength he had left, he hoisted his spatula above his head and punched the air as hard as he could.

"yeeeeeeeEEAAAAAAAHHGHGHGHGH!"

Every spirit in the stadium got on their feet and roared right along with him. Despite not ever having the chance to really know the reason behind his win, Ritsu's open catharsis was too infectious to ignore.

"SO THIS MEANS??? THE FRY COOK HERO DOES IT AGAIN?? HOW DOES THIS GUY MANAGE TO FIND THE MOST UNORTHODOX WAY TO SECURE A SPOT IN THE NEXT ROUND? CAN YOU BELIEVE IT AND WILL IT EVER STOP? I HOPE NOT, CHOW. I VERY MUCH THAT HE NEVER GIVES IT UP."

Chills chased their way up and down Bodhi's spine. The monk realized that had it not been for Ritsu's emotional reaction, he might have lost the audience's faith.

"If it wasn't clear to all of us before, it is now, Dan. The Fry Cook Hero is definitely hungry for that Sevenfold title. He's letting us know right here. Right now."

There was nothing calculated in what Ritsu was doing, but having the audience rooting for him made all the difference.

"He's a true underdog." Seven said with a Buddah-like smile.

Bodhi felt the truth of those words. They looked over at Ham Song and knew instantly that the pig felt them too.

Then, more like himself, Seven started tapping the air and making calculations.

"And as soon as we get back, I need to have some shirts made that say, That's my fry cook hero. Oh yeah. Those are gonna sell like hot cakes!"