Author’s note: This series is my homage to the manga and anime series, “Baki the Grappler”. Yes, I know there are about 3 different mangas and I think 2 different animes with different titles, but I’ll just call the whole thing “Baki the Grappler”. So, meet Bachiko. Any resemblance to the original work in terms of characters, plot and theme is entirely intentional. I hope fans of the series will enjoy my homage!
IMPORTANT NOTE: The original character Baki is 13 years of age at the beginning of the series. Bachiko is a 21-year-old girl.
Almost every time Kaito descended the stairs and approached the door to the basement, whenever their new tenant was around, he’d hear the same few sounds: the clank of iron, the grunts of exertion, the tortured creaking of metal upon metal. Their tenant never seemed to stop training during the evenings, and sometimes late into the night.
And what an odd tenant! Kaito had never before known anyone like her. On the day she first appeared in their home, in response to the online ad he’d helped his mom to post, he hadn’t been able to stop staring. His mom had shot him dirty looks repeatedly as they sat, seiza-style, at the table. He was being rude.
It wasn’t his fault he had never before seen a girl who was so… muscular!
Bachiko – and that was her name, what a strange one it was – had sat there, politely explaining that she would actually prefer the basement to an upper-floor room, because she would be moving in some heavy equipment that she used for her training. She asked if the basement was soundproofed sufficiently, because she would not like to disrupt the peace of the house with the noise she would inevitably make.
To Kaito’s immense surprise, his conservative uptight mother seemed to have taken a shine to her. The same Naoko who pursed her lips at the high skirts of ganguro girls in downtown Shibuya, the Naoko who shook her head in mute disapproval at the divorce rates, the Naoko who regarded the infamous Kabukicho red-light district as a stain upon the country… that same Naoko didn’t seem to mind at all that Bachiko was wearing a skimpy spaghetti-strap camisole and cutoff jeans. Bachiko’s physique was on full display, and Naoko talked and laughed with her as if she were an old family friend!
“Where are you from originally?” his mother had asked her, in a kindly way.
Bachiko had looked down modestly and said that she had been living in the Tohoku area, in Honshu, for most of her life. When asked about her family, a shadow seemed to cloud her eyes, and she was evasive. Her parents were alive, she had said, but she didn’t have much contact with them. Naoko – who was known to complain with her friends about the disintegration of traditional family values in modern Japanese society, and who always grilled Kaito’s friends about their own families – had only nodded in sympathy and had not pressed the issue. Kaito was frankly astonished.
“Hanma Bachiko…” Kaito had said her name aloud at one point. “Your parents must have been very happy to have had you!” He had beamed, glad that he was making a positive contribution to the conversation. That was what her name meant – “Happy Child”. Surely a good talking point?
Silence had ensued. Bachiko had retained a polite smile on her face, but Naoko was glaring daggers at him. Kaito was familiar with that look – privately he called it the “I will make you die the Death of a Thousand Knives” look. He had elected to remain quiet for the remainder of the interview.
His mother had always been the far more adept socializer anyway – he was just a computer nerd after all, what was he expected to know about social graces? He was practically a walking cliché, he knew, with his otaku-level of interest in the Robotech universe and his current major in Advanced Robotics at the Tokyo University of Technology. Foot-in-mouth wasn’t a disease with him, it was a congenital condition. He’d come to accept himself a long, long time ago.
The upshot of it all was that Bachiko was welcomed into the Ishida household with wide open arms. She was embarrassed about being given an upper-storey guest room in addition to the basement, but Naoko was not having her tenant sleep in the basement. She said it would shame her as a landlady. Bachiko would sleep in the room at the end of the second-floor hallway, beside Kaito’s own room.
Naoko had also volunteered Kaito’s assistance with regard to the matter of the “heavy training equipment”. “It’s about time he took up the role of a man in this house!” she had declared, a clear signal that saving face for her son in front of girls was very low indeed on her list of priorities. “He could do with some exercise anyway. He never comes out of his room when he’s at home, he’s always fiddling around with his toy robots instead of engaging in good healthy outdoor activity, like baseball, or soccer! I wish he had a strong, healthy body like you!” she had laughed, reaching out to touch Bachiko’s bahis firmaları bulging triceps lightly.
“Ooh,” her eyes had widened slightly in surprise, and her fingers lingered a little. “Your arm is… is so hard… Oh, I’m so terribly sorry, I don’t mean to embarrass you!”
“That’s, um, that’s ok, Ishida-san,” Bachiko had said, smiling to put the blushing Naoko at her ease.
In the end, it had been utterly humiliating for Kaito, from his point of view anyway. He could barely assist in moving a few items, until Bachiko had, not unkindly, told him that the sun was blazing (it was a cloudy day) and he ought to rest and not exert himself too much when he was clearly not feeling well. He had gratefully accepted, and then had proceeded to sit outside his door and mentally catalog the items Bachiko and the burly van driver were carrying into the basement. He didn’t know the name of everything he saw, but he found out some time later that Bachiko had carried in:
1 bench press set
1 power cage with movable safety bars and attached pull-up bars
1 adjustable workout bench
1 kettle bell set, total weight 180lbs
1 set of Olympic weight plates, total weight 700lbs (this had to come on the second trip the van made)
1 speed bag
1 double end bag
2 medicine balls, total weight 50lbs
3 Olympic barbells
1 hex bar
1 thick-handled barbell
1 set of dumbbells, weight ranging from 20lbs to a whopping 140lbs
1 climbing rope with ceiling attachment
1 foam roller
And a medium-sized crate containing, Kaito supposed, various odds and ends used for serious physical training. He had never seen such a complete set of equipment before. “Good thing our basement is actually large enough,” he had thought to himself.
Come to think of it, that was when Bachiko’s eyes had lit up for the first time in his memory – when she had first laid eyes upon the large basement they had, slightly atypical for houses in the area. Maybe she had been looking for just such a place that could satisfy this unusual criterion!
In any case, it was summer, so Kaito had been treated to the sight of Bachiko walking around with a sheen of sweat, carrying her equipment with far more ease than the van driver she’d hired. Towards the end, the guy had actually stopped for a break, and had taken a seat beside Kaito, while Bachiko continued with the moving.
“I’ve never met a girl like her before,” Kaito had said after a while, unable to think of any other conversation starter.
“I know, right?” the man had responded, in a broad Kansai accent. “Sometimes I do jobs for people moving their home gyms, like this. Met a few women who lift weights. Always thought they looked good, me. Usually a bit older, like, not grandmother old, but middle-aged, you know? Like your mom. And I tell you…” he leaned in conspiratorially, “this girl is way stronger than any of them! Hands down! Maybe she does the Olympics! Do Japan proud, ya?”
Kaito had wondered at the time why Bachiko seemed to have not only a home gym, but an entire gym, while she moved around the country with no permanent home of her own. Wouldn’t it be more practical to just take out a gym membership, he thought. The answer to the question had become clear, though, after the first time he saw her working out.
The weights she worked with were simply tremendous! Kaito didn’t get to see her use the smaller dumbbells and weight plates – he had been sent down to the basement by his mother to bring Bachiko some cool soy milk, and he had heard the clanging of the weights long before he opened the door. And what a sight had greeted his eyes…
Kaito would never forget the way her muscles rippled all over her body. She was broad-shouldered but not thickset, curvy but not voluptuous; ripped and defined with small breasts attached to fleshy pectorals that resembled nothing less than armor plates. She was far more muscular than a member of the Amazonian Praxian race, from Robotech.
As Kaito now stood just outside the door to the basement gym, the tray of brown rice cakes and kombu seaweed in his hands, he listened to the grunts of exertion from within the room and thought about Bachiko. It had been a few weeks, and Bachiko had settled in with a minimum of fuss. His mother was practically treating her like a member of the family, and they often took meals together. She seemed to have no job, yet she also seemed to have a substantial source of personal income. She seemed to be fairly intelligent, but she had only finished senior high and did not seem to have any intention to embark on further education. She also wasn’t too well-informed about technology or world affairs, but she appeared to have doctoral-level knowledge in the fields of physiology and biochemistry.
And most mysteriously of all, there were nights when she would simply… disappear. She’d be completely unreachable by mobile, but on one occasion she came back looking kaçak iddaa positively bedraggled. Out of respect for her privacy, neither Naoko nor Kaito queried her about where she’d been or what she did on those nights, but Kaito could not help feeling curious about this new girl in his life. So far, he hadn’t entertained salacious thoughts about her, but he found her fascinating.
Suddenly, he noticed the door was ajar. She had not shut it fully prior to her workout. Slowly, he nudged the door with his foot, making it open wider, and peeped in. What he saw nearly made him drop the tray of snacks in his hands.
Clad only in a skin-tight pair of short leotards, and completely topless, Bachiko was performing inclined-bench dumbbell presses with the largest set of dumbbells she possessed – not that Kaito would’ve known if Bachiko hadn’t told him once what the exercise was called, during a casual conversation. The sweat was practically pouring off her, as she slowly pushed the dumbbells straight up above her, and let them come down again with smooth, controlled movements, despite how her arms were shaking. There was no telling how long she’d been at it, but as Kaito watched, she performed rep after rep without stopping, grunting and moaning softly as she did so.
It was too much. The sight was too erotic for him to withstand. In that moment, Kaito decided to cast aside his reservations – whether finding it a turn-on meant he was in fact gay became a singularly unimportant question to him. He set down the tray of brown rice cakes on the floor beside him as softly as he could, and leaned against the doorframe, looking in. From where he was standing, he was looking at Bachiko at an angle, but he could see her bare torso. He could see just about everything, really.
He darted a quick glance at the stairs to make sure his mother wasn’t on her way down for some unpredictable reason, then turned his attention back to the sight of Bachiko. He slipped his hands down the front of his slacks. His rod was already erect, and the pre-cum was already leaking out the tip. Trying to control his breathing, he began stroking himself slowly while Bachiko continued to pump out rep after rep.
He counted four more slow, controlled reps with those monstrous 140lb dumbbells that he couldn’t even lift with both hands – wasn’t that basically what he weighed? No, it was more than what he weighed! And Bachiko was pressing that amount of weight in each hand, to exercise her chest! And she wasn’t letting up – how many reps of this had she already done? And how many more did she plan to do?
One more rep, and Bachiko’s moaning was getting more high-pitched. It sounded almost akin to moans of ecstasy. The shaking in her arms was now more pronounced than before. Yet the dumbbells still came down with the same amount of control, at about the same speed. The trembling had spread to her legs, which were firmly planted on the floor in a wide stance.
Two more reps, just as slow, with the form just as proper, and Bachiko was almost sobbing softly. Just how strong was she? Kaito’s hand movements slowed, as he contemplated the sheer physical prowess being displayed before his eyes. He didn’t know much about working out, but even he could tell this was not something a 19-year-old girl could typically do!
One more – but no, the dumbbells were slowing to a stop, halfway up, her arms were flexed to the fullest but she couldn’t seem to push them up any further, they were wobbling – and down they went, crashing onto the floor. “Good thing the floorboards are reinforced, from back when Dad used this basement as his gym while he was still around,” Kaito thought. His dad had never worked out with weights this crazy, though. He knew Bachiko was fit and athletic, but until now he hadn’t actually realized how strong she could be.
Bachiko was recovering, her arms hanging as she lay there on the inclined bench. Her bare chest heaved as she took deep breath after deep breath. Her head turned to the side, away from Kaito – and she suddenly seemed to freeze, going very still. After a moment, though, she seemed to relax again. She rose to her feet, picked up her bottle of water and took a few gulps. Then, she ran her fingers through her hair and poured some on her face, looking for all the world like a shower commercial.
Kaito gulped. The sight was basically indescribable. The curve of Bachiko’s pumped and throbbing chest muscle, joining with the lines of her upper arm muscles… the water trickling down all the crevices on her torso… soaking into her leotard tights…
She was walking over to the dumbbell rack. She picked up a pair of dumbbells – 50lbs. She turned to face the doorway. She began doing alternate arm curls, making the dumbbells seem almost light with the ease with which she was raising and lowering them. She made sure to angle her forearms in such a way as to cause the biceps to bulge impressively at the top of the motion. Rep after rep she performed, Kaito was kaçak bahis losing count…
And suddenly she said, “I do hope you haven’t shot yet, Kaito-san.”
The world around him became a crystal of horror. His blood became ice in his veins. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, as Bachiko put the dumbbells back onto the rack and began walking towards the door. Dimly, he registered what Bachiko had been looking at when she turned her head away – the mirrored wall.
The mirrored wall.
He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even take his hand out of his pants. He knew he had to, but he just couldn’t do it.
And then she was there, grabbing his shirt, pulling him forcefully into the basement, closing the door gently behind him. He stumbled but regained his balance, managing finally to withdraw his errant hand. His slacks were loose and comfortable, though, so his arousal remained on full display.
Bachiko came to stand in front of him. She seemed completely nonchalant, her hands on her hips, her head cocked to one side, a slightly quizzical smile on her face.
“I… I… I’m so… err… sorry… I’ve intruded…” he stammered. His mouth was working on autopilot.
Her gaze travelled downwards and remained fixed on the tent pole he was now sporting. Cringing with shame, he made as if to cover it with his hands.
But she grabbed his wrists, and pulled his hands away to the sides. Effortlessly.
“Kaito-san…” she said softly. “I am sorry to ask so directly, but… do you like me?”
He gave a nervous bark of laughter. “I… ah… Bachiko-san! Of course! I mean… what a strange question! Bachiko-san is… is a kind person, and… a very welcome guest in… ah…”
“I don’t mean that, Kaito-san,” she chuckled. She released his hands, and raised her arms up, slowly curling them into a double-biceps flex.
Kaito’s head swam. His mouth went dry.
“Do you like this?” she asked.
He nodded dumbly.
Then she was down on her knees, and his slacks were in a pool at his feet. She grabbed the shaft, her hand closing around his rod, his penis head jutting out from the space made by her thumb and forefinger.
“I like you, Kaito-san,” she murmured throatily, her voice much deeper than usual, and gave the tip of his penis head a hard lick.
A frisson of pleasure went through his entire body. His legs went weak. His hands shook.
She began to pump his shaft lightly and rhythmically. “I hope you see me as a woman, Kaito-san,” she said softly, looking up at him, her short practical bob-cut hair framing her pretty face. “I know that I may not be like other women… but I hope that you find my body attractive.”
His breath was catching in his throat, and he could make no reply, but he managed to nod his head frantically.
She beamed, and raised her free arm to flex it. The ball of muscle that popped out was like nothing Kaito had ever seen, on the arm of any man or woman. The lines of striation on her shoulder turned it into a topological wonder. A single drop of pre-cum oozed out of his tip and began dripping downwards. Giggling with girlish delight, Bachiko made to catch it on the tip of her tongue, but failed. It fell onto the floor, in between her knees.
“Would you like to touch me, Kaito-san?” she invited. Almost immediately, almost without volition, his hand went to the mound of her biceps. He began pressing it gingerly at first with his fingers, amazed at how hard it was even though her skin felt soft and smooth. Then he could no longer resist, and he grabbed the flesh there, kneading it. His hand made barely any headway against the hardness.
Meanwhile, Bachiko leaned forward and pressed her tongue against the bottom of his cock head, and his still-plentiful pre-cum was starting to collect in a little pool on her tongue. She began bobbing her head back and forth with a very small movement, but the friction made him moan out loud.
Then he clapped his hand over his mouth in horror. Bachiko leaned back, laughing silently. She stopped flexing to put a finger to her mouth, and gave him a wink. Then, with a focused look coming into her eyes, she bent forward and took in his cock whole.
She was like no other girl he had ever met, a small part of Kaito’s mind mused. This part of his mind had detached itself, and was now floating in some cloudy, ethereal realm, suffused with a sense of well-being. Some might consider her forward, or un-feminine, he thought. But certainly, the quality of assertiveness in a woman could be very attractive in the right circumstances. Perhaps expectations played a role – people were probably more forgiving of certain “strong” traits possessed by women in some professions. The so-called tsundere trope was certainly prevalent enough in anime in general, though of course anime was hardly reflective of mainstream taste. Still, it did point to some general acceptance of a Type O kind of girl, and he himself could personally see the appeal of someone with Bachiko’s personality. It was definitely congruent with her physique, and this congruence produced a sense of quiet satisfaction within him. Or within that small detached part of his mind.