"No it's not fake!"

"Yeah ok, but then how do you explain.....THIS!!!"

There was a moment of silence as the Benimaru Naikido inspected the Shingo Yubuki's right glove , still fitted. "I'm sure there's gotta be some sought of trigger or button or pull-string or..."

By this time Shingo's face flushed with anger. He promptly removed his hand from Benimaru's possesion, shaking it and massaging it as if it had been ilegally tampered with.

"It's true. I'm not lying. I can wield a Kusanagi flame. Master Saisyu taught me."

Benimaru burst with laughter. "Master Saisyu!?! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! You must've been stone drunk when you saw this 'flame'. I guess thats the only way Saisyu figuared you'd ever get to do a flame. What? Was it another gas tank?!"

He continued his laughter and mocking of Shingo's newly claimed abilities.

Shingo, however, wasn't in the slightest amused. But he was used to it though. Years of being Kyo's no. 1 fan and student or servant as others would comment, add to the fact that failure of perfecting his master's fighting style, has earned Shingo ridicuel such as this. Not only amongest friends and class mates but fellow fighters as well.

But Shingo was not prepared to take the easy way out. He had a dream. A dream which he believes, he's closer to attaining than ever before. A dream that he knows will come true someday. Someday he will perfectly master the art of Kusanagi flame usage. He would be able to produce more than just 'a flame'... someday.

"Do you doubt me?", he questioned after allowing the narcistic women-izer to enjoy his 'fun' at Shingo's expense.

It was a late Summer Monday afternoon. The two friends had decided to spend the day sparing in CD Park. However their plans had never fruited. Spending most of the day lounging in the warm sun, Benimaru and Shingo had little worry and no trouble. Until they eventually started their sparing session.

"Do you doubt me?", Shingo questioned again, this time sounding less rhetorical.

Wiping his loosly flowing, long, blonde hair from his face, along the tears from his eyes, Benimaru regained his usual flamboyant composure.

"Shingo, my friend", Benimaru began, "You are truely a magnificant fighter."

The always eager, fighting student listened intentivly. It was such an unual occurance that his electrifying friend would sing his praise.

Benimaru continued, "If you were not a great fighter, do you think you would be invited to the King of Fighters tournament every year since you joined? If you were not the great fighter, do you think you would be invited to participate in this year's National Singles Tournament, which will be comencing soon? 1997 was your first year in the King of Fighters Tournament. Back then you were nothing but a stupid Kyo fanboy who copied all his idol's moves and tricks with very little success. Six years on, you're still stupid Kyo fanboy who copies his tricks and moves but you have grown."

Gently jabbing Shingo in the chest, "You've grown here," then tapping on his head, "you've grown here and", resting both hands on either side of his own waist, "you've grown as a fighter." Shingo smiled. He respected Benimaru. Not just as a friend but as a fighter as well. And it felt good to be respected in return.

"What I do doubt though, is this ability to wield a flame, of Kusanagi no less. You do know that only those of Kusanagi bloodline can wield their flame and the only way I can see that happening with you is by blood transfusion, but even that would be far too little to give you an enheritted ability. Are you sure this isn't just normal ki transfered and seems of fire origin?"

Shingo felt the need to defend himself to a bitter end, again, but soon realized that Benimaru was serious with his questions thus Shingo calmly answered, "No. I'm positive it's Kusanagi flames. I can't... I can't explain it... I've been around Kyo long and so have you and you realize the fire he produces isn't normal. It's not the usual stuff, it's differant. And the flame I produce... I can feel it's not normal ki that just looks like fire, like what other fighters use. Mines... mines differant."

"Ok", Benimaru replied seeing the emotional expression on Shingo's face, "so then how come you didn't produce flames in this year's Tournament, when you teamed with Goro and myself?"

"Well you see.... the thing is in the Tournament they weren't actually flames just yet. More like 'sparks'. You might've not seen it but they were there."

"So then Shingo Yubuki!", Benimaru exclaimed trying to sound as excited as possible, then catching a quick glance at the nearest tree, "Burn that!"

Shingo looked in the direction of Benimaru's pointed index finger. The tree stood tall and thick. Shingo was unable to estimate how long it had been there as the age of oaks can run in the hundreds.

"Well...", he looked down at his hands as he clenched them, "...the thing is... ". He looked up at Benimaru who stood patiently waiting. "The thing is...." he repeated."

"The thing is what?", Benimaru repeated, yet again.

"The thing is.... I can't."

Benimaru's jaw dropped, so much so he had to nearly pick back up from the floor.

"What?", responded Benimaru and even without waiting for any response, "You mean to tell me that we argued, for the past hour, on whether you can or cannot wield the Kusanagi flame for nothing? What do you mean 'I can't'".

Shingo squirnted his eye's, put on his biggest smiling grin, start scratching the back of his head and replied, "Well you see.... the thing is... about my flames...hehe... they're kinda...kinda...."

Benimaru listened closely.

"My flames are kinda random!"

A loud thud was heard. Benimaru had fallen onto his back with his legs pointed to the sky.

Out of pure shock and utter emabarassment, Shingo just continued to smile.

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