Matasaburo of the Gale #PulpAdventCalendar2022

In a corner of Tokyo, there was a small motorcycle gang.

Although they were a motorcycle gang, the members consisted of only seven people, with no mechanics, and their hangout was a shabby coffee shop the leader was familiar with. Every day, they would tinker with their bikes, race through the streets with a roar, talk about nonsense, and occasionally get into turf wars. They had never lost a fight, and they had even wiped out a fifty-man army with just the seven of them.

The leader's name was Akira Katabami. He was a tall man with silver hair slicked back. The team he led was called the Katabami Silver-Hungry Gang.

-1-

It was a vivid winter day.

"Looks like we're the first ones here, Akira!"

As he parked his bike in front of the coffee shop that served as their hangout, his teammate and junior, Keisuke, said this, and Akira nodded, saying, "I guess so." Carrying their gear, they pushed open the door to the coffee shop. The doorbell rang with a clatter.

As usual, there was no sign of anyone inside the shop. However, Akira and the others immediately had to frown.

"............Who are you?"

There was someone they didn't recognize.

He was a burly man with red hair reaching his shoulders, wearing white coveralls. He was sitting heavily in their "usual seat," looking out the window. Is he a customer? No, that can't be, Akira thought immediately. The master would never seat a customer there.

The man noticed the sound of the doorbell, turned his face toward them, and tilted his head.

"Hmm. Customers?"

He was a man with features that reminded one of a lion. Perhaps he had foreign blood; his skin was fair, his nose was high, and his golden eyes shone. He looks just like a statue, Akira thought. He had once thrown a plaster statue during a turf war, and he looked just like that. "Ah, that silver hair..."

The man asked this while staring intently at the faces of the pondering Akira and his friends.

"Are you Katabami?" "...So what if I am?" "What do you want with Akira?"

Akira and Keisuke clenched their fists as they retorted. The two, who were each worth a thousand warriors, felt an extraordinary presence coming from the man.

"............"

As the two closed the distance, the man watched them while remaining seated in his chair. At that moment, a wind suddenly blew with a roar, the coffee shop's window glass rattled, and the cover of the bike parked in front of the shop billowed upward. It was a gale so strong that it felt as if the building itself might be blown away. And then, the man in question seemed to grin, and he stood up smoothly. "He's huge...!?" Keisuke exclaimed involuntarily. His height must have been at least 190 centimeters. Combined with his well-trained physique, he looked like a mountain. Seeing that figure, Keisuke shouted again.

“Ah... Akira-kun! This guy might be Gale-Wind Matasaburo!”
“Huh? Gale-Wind... who?”

When Akira asked back, the doorbell rang with a clatter behind them. At the same time, the strong wind that had been blowing until then stopped abruptly.

Akira and Keisuke turned around to look at the entrance. There stood the master, holding a supermarket bag.

“Huh? What are you guys doing, standing there like that?”
“...Master.”
“Hey, Master. Do you know that guy?”

As Keisuke pointed to the back of the shop, Akira also cast his gaze there again. However, he was suddenly left completely bewildered.

The red-haired giant who should have been standing there just a moment ago was nowhere to be seen, not even a shadow.

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

The master tilted his head, and Akira and Keisuke looked at each other. The wind blew hard again, making the window glass rattle and shaking the entire building.

“...Akira-kun, where did he go...!?”
“Where could he have gone in an instant...?”
“I don't really know... but anyway, can I put my stuff down?”

At the master's prompt, the two hurriedly made way. Watching the master go behind the counter, they also walked to their usual seats.

“Hey, Keisuke. What is that Gale-Wind whatever-it-is?”
“Gale-Wind Matasaburo! He's a legendary delinquent! Don't you know him, Akira-kun!?”
“Never heard of him.”
“Is that Miyazawa Kenji? Do you guys read that kind of stuff too?”
“Eh? Master, who's that?”

According to Keisuke's explanation, Gale-Wind Matasaburo was a legend whispered among biker gangs. He was a delinquent who appeared before biker gangs engaged in endless daily conflicts; he was stronger in a fight than anyone, faster in a race than anyone, and would beat everyone on the battlefield to a pulp.

“Lately, various teams have been getting crushed, and the rumor is that Matasaburo might have appeared...”
“What is that... and that's a surprisingly old-fashioned name. Especially with that look.”
“Yeah, he looked like a foreign celebrity. Red hair and pale skin... wait, what's this empty can?”

Looking, there was a dirty empty can on the table. Akira picked up the can and, with a click of his tongue, tucked it into the pocket of his special attack uniform.

“...I told you, no outside food or drink in this shop.”
“Oh, by the way, you two. Your bike is knocked over outside.”
“Huh!?”

At the master's words, the two turned around. Then, looking outside the shop, they opened their eyes wide in shock. What on earth was this? That man was standing in front of the shop, puffing away on a cigarette.

“When did he get out there...!?”
“L-let's go, Akira-kun!”

-2-

Saburo Takada. On the way, the red-haired man introduced himself as such.

There is a large river in this town, and there is a park on the riverbed. That was also the "usual place" for the Katabami Silver-Hunger Gang, and the three of them had come to that park. Akira and Keisuke were on a bike, but Saburo was on foot, so it took much longer than usual.

“So, anyway.”

Sitting down on a convenient bench, Akira asked Saburo.

“Get to the point, Takada. No one can hear us here.”
“I appreciate your quick intuition.”

A clicking sound leaked from Saburo’s mouth. On the way here, Saburo had talked about his self-introduction, his hometown, and how he wanted to drink the old man’s coffee but he wasn’t there, but Akira had realized that none of that was the main point.

“...Akira Katabami. You have quite a few legends to your name, don’t you? The Fifty-Man Sweep of Tama, the Duel at Edogawa, and various others?”
“People just say those things on their own.”
“That is what we call a legend.”

Once again, a clicking sound leaked from Saburo’s mouth. It seemed to be laughter.

“Anyway. I have a request for you people.”
“Huh? If you’re looking for mercenaries, we don’t take those jobs.”
“It’s similar, but a little different.”

At Akira’s words, Saburo raised the corners of his mouth. Just then, a gust of wind blew, the grass on the riverbank rippled like waves, and it swirled sharply in the middle of the park, turning into a small whirlwind.

That was when it happened. From behind Saburo, the sound of engines approached—vroom, vroom, vroom, vroom. And it wasn’t just one or two; it was clearly the sound of a whole team’s engines. Akira and Saburo immediately took a combat stance.

“You bastard, Matasaburo! You really were plotting something, weren’t you!”
“Nu...?”

Keisuke shouted in anger, but Saburo only tilted his head. The engine sounds were approaching from the direction of the town. What Akira saw were several motorcycles. There were two people on each bike, and he could see they were armed with iron pipes, baseball bats, and the like. When they spotted Akira and the others standing on the riverbank, they kicked up dust, turned their handlebars, and closed the distance to them in the blink of an eye.

“Ah, man. If they were just passing through, it wouldn’t have been a hassle.”

Akira muttered, glaring at the approaching swarm of motorcycles. In the corner of his vision, Saburo tilted his head.

“Hmm... Akira Katabami, are these friends of yours?”
“Huh? Didn’t you bring them with you?”
“No, I don’t know. Who are these people?”

In the meantime, the motorcycles finally reached the spot where the three of them were and began to circle around them. There were six of them. Eventually, they slowed down and surrounded the three.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!”

The one who shouted was the person who appeared to be the leader of the group. He was a man with a pudding-colored pompadour, holding a wooden sword.

“If it isn’t Katabami! Hey!”
“...Suzuri? What do you want?”

It was Sataro Suzuri. He was the leader of a team called the Dark Angels, and someone Akira knew. The noise, like vroom-vroom and paraparapara, was enough to burst one’s eardrums, filling the area.

“I’m not here for you, Katabami. We’re here for that big guy over there! Or what? Is he a friend of yours?”

The soldiers who had been riding double also got off, carrying their weapons, and surrounded the three. All of them had bloodshot eyes, and their gazes were fixed on Saburo.

"Takada. Looks like you've got company."
"What the hell! Who are you guys!"
"Don't 'what the hell' me! You pulled some pretty cheeky stunts the other day!"

Suzuri replied hysterically to Saburo's shout. It seemed to be retaliation for what Saburo had done to them, but the atmosphere was clearly beyond the point of listening to any claims that they were "not friends."

"Ah... so these are the guys he picked a fight with?"
"Wait... we have nothing to do with this!?"
"Shut up! You should blame yourself for being with him! Kill them!"
""Uooooh!""

And so, the fight between three and twelve began.

The enemy soldiers closed in all at once. Seeing this, Akira didn't hesitate to kick Saburo from behind.

"Nuwoh!?"
""!!??""

Saburo's massive body flew forward, crashing into the enemy's vanguard. Caught off guard, the enemies stumbled. Akira leaped toward them, slamming the soles of his shoes into their faces and knocking two of them out at once.

"Takada! To the left!"
"Nueii!"
"--!?"

At Akira's shout, Saburo rushed to the left while still hunched over. There were two enemies there, but they were struck hard by his massive body, which was charging like a truck, and were sent flying.

In an instant, four of them were incapacitated, and the members of 'Ink Wing' grew restless. To press the advantage, Keisuke took firecrackers out of his bag, lit them, and scattered them. The sound of explosions rang out—bang, bang, bang—throwing the enemies into a panic.

"Akira-kun!"
"Yeah! Keisuke, take the right! Takada, I'll leave that side to you!"
"Leave it to me!"

Shouting, Akira charged into the very center of the enemy army. He dodged a blow from a nail-studded bat, snatched it away, struck back, and then threw the bat like a javelin at a crossbow aimed at him from the corner of his vision.

Keisuke used his quick movements to dodge enemies while keeping them at bay with a modified airsoft gun and slowing down people and motorcycles with caltrops. Meanwhile, Saburo knocked a motorcycle rider off with a lariat, grabbed the guy, and threw him into the crowd of enemies, knocking them down. He then pulled up a nearby motorcycle and swung it around like a battle-axe to continue the fight. Seeing such a storm of fierce attacks, Suzuri backed away.

"Wait, hold on, they're strong!?"
"Whoa, that super strength is terrifying... wait. Hey, Suzuri!"
"Ugh!?"

With a roar, Akira slammed his knee into the chin of a nearby combatant and snatched away the iron pipe the man dropped. Then, with the ferocity and intensity of a predator, he kicked the ground, kicked enemies, kicked motorcycles, and kicked the air, closing in on Suzuri's throat.

"You know who you picked a fight with, right?"
"Gwah!?"

As Akira lunged, he swung the iron pipe, which Suzuri barely managed to block by holding his wooden sword horizontally. Taking advantage of the moment Akira landed, one of Suzuri's subordinates swung a piece of lumber. Akira blocked it with the iron pipe and used the momentum to knock the subordinate unconscious.

"Hii...!"
"Hey Takada! Finish off your own guests yourself!"

Akira nimbly jumped back to dodge the wooden sword that Suzuri swung in desperation. By the time Suzuri's eyes widened at the words Akira shouted at the same time, the outcome had already been decided.

"Nuei!"

A gale-force wind blew past Akira. From the blind spot Akira had created, Saburo charged forward with his bike-masakari held in front of him. His speed was such that one might mistake him for a real motorcycle. And the impact was comparable to that of a two-ton truck.

“Gah!”
“Pigi—”

Suzuri’s wooden sword shattered into pieces. Suzuri heard the sound of every bone in his body breaking. His body, along with the flattened bike-masakari, flew high into the air and splashed straight into the river.

“Su... Suzuri-san!?”
“M-monsters, these guys are!”
“Huh? Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, punk?!”
“Eek!? S-sorry, my bad!”

Suzuri’s subordinates dragged their fallen comrade away as they fled. Some of the subordinates jumped into the river to go after Suzuri.

“...Let’s change locations, you guys. Takada, get on the back.”

Akira and his group were not small-timers who would pursue those heading off to rescue their own. Brushing the dirt and dust off their special attack uniforms, they straddled their bikes and revved the engines. The three of them sped off in the opposite direction of the sirens heard in the distance.

“Your strength is as rumored, Katabami.”
“You’re not so bad yourself, you’re like a bulldozer.”

As they rode their bikes, Akira and Saburo exchanged words. To Keisuke, who laughed and said, “We should have done this from the start!”, Akira also laughed and replied, “Yeah.” As they rode for a while longer, Akira asked Saburo a question.

“...So, Takada. What exactly is this favor you wanted to ask of me?”
“Yeah. After fighting alongside you, I thought about it again.”

At that moment, a gust of wind blew, shaking the bike frames. The weeds on the riverbank rustled, and the hems of Akira and his group’s special attack uniforms fluttered violently. Squinting his eyes against the wind, Saburo laughed boldly and spoke.

“—I want you to help me defeat Santa.”

-3-

Team Santa Claus. That was the name of the biker gang Saburo wanted them to defeat.

“Never heard of them.”
“That’s because they disbanded decades ago.”
“Huh?”

In a corner of the coffee shop, their usual hangout, Saburo laughed heartily while drinking coffee. Akira sat across from him at the table, and Keisuke stood next to him. And all around them, on the first floor of the shop, five men sat separately. They were the members of the Katabami Silver-Hungry Gang.

“Grudges, vengeful spirits... well, you could think of them as something like that.”
“Huh? Vengeful spirits?”
“Hey, hey. You want us to fight ghosts?”

The warriors, each worth a thousand, whispered among themselves. Although they were here because of Akira and Keisuke’s testimony, they still didn’t believe it. However, Saburo remained unfazed, puffed out his chest, finished his coffee, and began to speak to the members of the Katabami Silver-Hungry Gang in a voice that seemed to crawl from the earth.

“Once every few years, on Christmas Eve, crimson headlights paint the town. Three hundred soldiers on a rampage, carrying sacks on their backs, trampling those who walk the streets, and carrying them away—”

With his compelling way of speaking, the members of the Silver Hunger Gang, who had been skeptical until just a moment ago, listened intently. It was a story about Santa Claus and the biker gangs that had been passed down since long ago, from the generation of Akira and his friends' fathers.

So... you want us to take on the job of defeating this Santa?
Indeed. I have requested the strongest teams of their respective times. For example, in the past...

The names he listed were all legendary teams that everyone among Akira and his friends knew, and some of those teams had since gone missing. According to Saburo, they had lost in turf wars and been spirited away.

The Silver Hunger Gang held their breath. They realized the magnitude of what they would lose if they were defeated. But if they won, they too could go down in legend. Everyone felt that this was a massive gamble.

What are the odds of winning?
...I've never heard of seven people taking on those guys.
Ha. You're the one who chose us for this.
That's right. I am convinced that you lot will win.

Laughing with a 'kakaka,' Saburo continued his words.

From now until Christmas, I will tune everyone's bikes. The Takada family has done this for generations. And I am called a prodigy among them. I will build monster machines that will make Santa so scared he'll ascend to heaven. ...That is why.

At that, Saburo looked around at all the members of the Silver Hunger Gang and bowed his head once more.

Fight with me.

-4-

And just like that, it was Christmas Eve in the blink of an eye. It had been sunny in the morning, but it gradually grew darker before noon, and by lunchtime, a light rain had finally begun to fall. By this time at dusk, it had finally turned into snow.

Akira looked up at it while straddling his bike and called out to Saburo, who was sitting behind him.

............It's a white Christmas, huh.
How romantic.

The Katabami Silver Hunger Gang was lined up as if to block the national highway. It was the longest straight road in the area. I've heard it was often used for chicken races and duels in the old days. In such a place, Saburo was riding pillion on Akira's machine, and the other members were on their own bikes, each holding a weapon. On Saburo's instructions, the engines were not yet started.

...Is this what they call an omen?
Akira, it's coming soon.

Beyond where Akira and the others were looking, there wasn't a single car left. The vehicles that had certainly been there just a few minutes ago had vanished like mist. It was the omen of the appearance of Team Santa Claus that he had heard about from Saburo. Seeing this, Keisuke muttered to himself.

I wasn't exactly doubting you at this point, but it really was true...
Yeah, absolutely. Hey you guys, get fired up.
Yeah!
Saburo. I'll leave the signal to start the engines to you.
Leave it to me.

He could see the sun setting behind the distant mountains. The road, now devoid of traffic, was swallowed by darkness in the blink of an eye. The grass on the mountain grew deathly quiet, and the surroundings had transformed into an indescribably terrifying landscape.

Before long, the sound of engines could suddenly be heard from the other side of the road, roaring 'vroom, vroom.' There was also a sound like a street performer's band. Just as he thought that, bright red lights appeared from the end of the road.

The light increased in number in the blink of an eye, shining brilliantly like the sunrise. The noise produced by three hundred bikes felt like a wall of pressure closing in on them.

Beyond that wall, near the center of the motorcycle army, sat a massive machine. It looks like a parade float, Akira thought. At its peak, a large man in red clothes sat sprawled out.

“So, if we take his head, we win?”
“Yeah. ...Well, Akira. Let’s begin.”
“You got it—Oxalis Silver Starvation Gang!”

At that moment, Akira raised his hand high. The members turned their keys in unison, igniting their motorcycle engines. The powerful startup sounds, like 'varoom' and 'vroom,' tore through the Santa noise.

Headlights flashed on, one after another, making the Silver Starvation Gang’s presence known to the approaching Santas. The brilliance was a vivid, intense, and ferocious silver-white light, like diamonds, sharp enough to cut through the Santas’ red lights.

The advance of the |Santa Claus| stopped. Just as the legends said, an army of three hundred illuminated the Oxalis Silver Starvation Gang. The eight of them stared down the enemy without averting their eyes.

Dod-do-do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do, do-do-do
Dod-do-do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do, do-do-do

And then, the engine sound, like war drums, blew away the voices of the vengeful spirits. A sound unlike any other, belonging only to the Oxalis Silver Starvation Gang, stirred Akira and his team’s souls and intimidated the spirits. Feeling the pulse beating like a drum, Akira took a deep breath and shouted.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!”

Akira pointed the tip of the metal bat in his hand toward the leader sitting on the float. As the leader glared down at him, Akira bared his teeth in a grin.

“Oxalis Silver Starvation Gang, leader! I’m Akira Katabami! We’ve come to crush you!”
“……………………”
“Let us begin—fair and square—”

The wind blew hard, blasting away the engine noise of the vengeful spirits and carrying Akira’s voice far and wide. Then, Akira pressed a button embedded in his bat.

“Die!”

At that moment, a powerful laser beam shot from the tip of the bat, searing the eyes of the leader of the |Santa Claus|. Suddenly, the leader writhed in agony, and the soldiers stirred for a moment. In that instant, Akira shouted.

“—Kill them all!”
“““Yeah!!”””

Dod-do-do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do, do-do-do, do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do

A special-spec machine with reinforced armor on the front roared and charged head-on into the enemy line. The vengeful spirits were sent flying along with their bright red motorcycles. Only then did the Santa side realize the battle had begun.

Akira immediately abandoned his own machine, using the enemy bikes as stepping stones to cut through the ranks. With chains wrapped around his fists, he struck, entangled, and threw the enemies one after another.

A little further away, Molotov cocktails set by Keisuke burned the vengeful spirits. A variety of lethal weapons, including firecrackers and nail-filled incendiary bottles, assaulted the enemy.

Saburo grabbed an enemy by the scruff of the neck in the middle of the enemy line, wielding him like a tonfa. He lifted up a motorcycle that had charged in recklessly and threw it at nearby enemies, causing a chain reaction of explosions.

Eight against three hundred.

On the battlefield where gale winds swirled, the greatest and most intense battle of the Katabami Silver Hunger Gang thus began.

──And this battle would be passed down for generations and generations to come as a legendary giant-killing.

-Epilogue-

"──Hmm."

Akira opened his eyes. The sky was beginning to turn white; it seemed dawn was near. Akira lay on his back looking up at the sky for a while, but then suddenly sat up with a start.

He was in front of a convenience store a little ways from the battlefield. After annihilating the Santas, he and his companions had ridden their bikes in tatters, and had collapsed right there.

"Almost froze to death there..."

His companions were sleeping huddled together. Their bodies were covered in blood, but they were filled with a sense of accomplishment.

"............Hmm."

Suddenly, he counted the number of people. Seven, including himself. Saburo was nowhere to be seen.

"......Dod-do, dod-do."

That was the song Saburo used to sing while doing maintenance.

The song Akira hummed was carried away somewhere on the wind that blew with a roar.

(The End)

Afterword

Hello, hello, it has been a while. This is Momonoji.
I haven't updated my note or appeared much on Twitter at all this past year. Though I have been writing a ton of fan fiction for Shiny Colors. It's been a really long time since I've done pulp. How do you do.

This work is a contribution to the Pulp Advent Calendar and 'Countless Bullets'. I am sorry for missing the deadline for the Bullets side.

Well, as you all probably guessed, this was just a piece where I wanted to use the title and the 'Dod-do, dod-do~' part. That said, to flesh it out seriously from there, I took the approach of actually reading, analyzing, and paying homage to 'Gale-Wind Matasaburo'.
The original 'Gale-Wind Matasaburo' is a story spanning about nine days, with chapters divided by each day. This time, I extracted the essence of each story, converted it into a delinquent context (classroom -> usual hangout spot, etc.), and added battle scenes as I liked. Actually, at first, there was a scene where Keisuke chased after a runaway delinquent, fell into a trap, passed out, and hallucinated Saburo dressed as Santa, but I had to cut it with tears in my eyes due to character count constraints. A pity.

That said, it was a good opportunity to re-read the original work (Matasaburo of the Wind) for the first time since childhood, and how should I put it, the way the author captures that specific, "sooooo annoying" feeling unique to elementary schoolers' arguments—it's truly amazing how vividly they can write that texture. Do you keep an elementary schooler in your brain?? Also, the use of onomatopoeia is artistic. I tried to imitate it, but it was impossible.

I thought, "The only thing that makes a sound like 'dod-do, dod-dod' is a motorcycle, right?" so I went with a delinquent theme, but the action scenes are basically RRR. Battle-axe motorcycles. I also wrote Saburo's entrance scene with Indian cinema in mind. The war at the end probably has tigers in it too, I suppose.

That is all.

It was my first time doing pulp in a while and it was really tough, but it was a lot of fun. I caught COVID halfway through and didn't know what to do, but I'm glad I managed to finish writing it.
Anyway, thank you for reading this far!

Tomorrow is Soichiro Takayanagi-aniki with "Interview with a Christmas Chicken." Look forward to it!