Lonely Crescent
Chapter1:
Thoughts
The life of a loner is not as wonderful as some people may think. In a world where technology has taken over and the overwhelming demand for those who understand how it works, people feel that the stress is too overpowering. These are the people who believe in loneliness. They dream of discarding the world of technology and meaningless competition and live a free and pleasant life where they don't have to fight for their own space in line for a sandwich that isn't worth eating, or for a decent job that pays enough only for a roof over their heads. They dream of a place where they can do, say, think, and feel what they want, and not have to answer to anyone. But, as glorious as this sounds, it's not what they think. The life of a loner is still competitive, is still stressful, and most of all, lonely.....
The rain fell silently on this cold, winter morning. The bright, warming rays of the sun were blocked out by the dark coldness of the clouds. Everything's in competition, he observed from the window. No matter what people may think, nothing is at peace with each other. The world is a constant cycle of competition. The observer watched through his crimson hair as the rain fell down on the half empty streets of Paris. No one in their right mind would go out in this kind of weather, even if it is days before Christmas; it's just perfect. With a satisfied look in his calm eyes he sat up, grabbed his long, leather trench coat and walked out to the sharp rain. He needed this to clear his mind, to think and observe without the distractions that have been plaguing him.
The bitter cold wind bit at him sharply, but it didn't bother him; he was immune to small pain such as this or any other. As he walked through the back alleys, he could very well see the answer to the believers of loneliness, the vagabonds that beg like dogs for scraps of food, a drink or two of a strong spirit, or a warm place to sleep. These are the people that pursued the empty dreams of loneliness; and this is what they have to show for it. Iori Yagami walked slowly through the alley that housed these examples of forgotten hope, remembering when he himself had that dream. Nothing but lies...
As he walked on, the effects of the cold were finally taking its toll. He walked into one of the only bars opened so early in the morning. The warmth was the only thing he cared for here. It's too cozy, he jokenly thought to himself. He stood for a while then sat himself down in a corner next to the window. Automatically, a waitress happily walked up as the red-head placed a cigarette in his mouth and began to light it.
"Excuse me," the young, blond waitress called, "you're not allowed to smoke here this early." There was a nervous tone in sweet voice as she noticed her custumer giving her a long stare, then calmly crush the cigarette on the window sill. "Now, Sir, my I take your order?" she hesitantly continued.
Iori was quiet for a moment. "Just get me something to drink."
"Anything in particular? Right now our hot chocolate and tea are...."
"Anything." Iori repeated.
The waitress was taken aback but she obeyed his wish and walked away, thinking of the right drink to serve this intriguing man. Minutes later, she came back with a warm glass of tea. "I hope you enjoy it." she said happily, "It's the owner's special recipe; she said she made it just for you." the waitress said, pointing back at the bar.
Iori was caught by surprise as he saw a familiar face smiling and toasting a cup of coffee to him, her short, boyish, blond hair neatly combed back and her traditional maroon tuxedo doing for her what so many guys wish. King? Then this must be Illusion. He looked up at the waitress. "Tell her I said "thank you."
"Well," the waitress continued nervously, "she also said you're welcome here anytime and you can stay for as long as you want. She also reserved this booth for you and has already started a tab."
A small thankful smile cracked on his face as he watched the waitress walk away.
The whole morning Iori sat in his corner, drinking the warm tea. He never mind being in one place for hours, and the warmth provided by this restaurant was just fine. For most of the morning, as he looked out the window, he'd watch wrongful deeds being committed- car-jacking, pick-pocketing, or a bloody fight- but he thought nothing to help. "I'm just an observer," he told himself. No matter what happened he never second thought his decision to keep out.
As he was preparing to leave, the echoes of a scream sounded. It caught him by surprise, but he thought nothing of it. He could hear the heavy footfalls of two or so people running and the shouting of a girl to her pursuer; but, still, Iori thought nothing of the situation. As he was within reach of the door a loud thump and the high cracking of glass sounded from the corner he came from. The waitresses and customers spoke suddenly with a loud gasp as a young girl was shoved hard against the glass.
Iori watched calmly but curiously at the act, then walked out and saw a large man in black with his arm across the young girl's chest, pushing her harder against the glass; her screams of pain were nothing to either of the two men. Iori walked away as he noticed her staring at him with pleading eyes. She repeatedly called for his help but he ignored her. A small part in his mind told him it wouldn't be right to walk away from this killing, but it was drowned out by the thoughts of an observer. As he walked he noticed a great deal of people watching him. Damn! Quickly, he turned around and ran at the attacker, grabbing his head and striking him to the ground, then picked him up slammed him through the glass.
The short-haired girl looked up at her savior. "Thank you," she whispered in pain.
Yagami looked down at her. "Baka! If you would've been more careful that wouldn't have happened."
"It's not my fault. He was looking for my brother; I just called him an "ass" after he cursed his name." She stood up slowly and extended her bloody hand, "My name is..."
"I don't care," Iori interrupted. With that he walked away.
Before he got to far, King rushed out the door with a piece of broken chair. "I do all this for you and wrek my bar?!" she shouted, furious. "This is going on your tab you know!"
Iori merely waved his hand in compliance.
The young girl watched her savior walk away. He seems to have a lot on his mind... His eyes... She looked at at her unconscious attacker, they're so lonely.
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It was well past noon when Iori reached his hotel. The rain was still falling, but even harder now; and soft thunder rolled across the sky and echoed well passed hearing. The perfect whether, Iori thought, appeased by his luck. So far his morning was fine; he, surprisingly enough, met up with Illusion's famous owner, King. He liked not having to see any of the other KoF team members, but he didn't mind a quick meeting with some of them; especially those who kept to themselves like the bartender. And that bar tab was just perfect for him; Illusion is a famous restaurant and with this tab Iori could have an "all-you-can-eat," or "-drink" if he's feeling a little down. But the meeting with that girl... She seemed familiar somehow. Where have I seen that face before? Iori paused. It's doesn't matter. There's an unlikely chance I'll see her again. His morning walk was over with now, and the highlight of the day - smashing some guys head through glass - was over. Iori had nothing to do. When you're a loner, you're bord.
Iori sat by the window, guitar in hand, and watched the cold, sharp rain fall upon the earth; observing once again the now heavily pack streets. Everyone's getting ready for Christmas two weeks in advance. Every year it's the same thing: those who pass up the dream of solitude work harder than before and, only once a year, they feel happy. He looked away and pulled out a white envelope edged in gold trimming from his pocket. He turned it over and studied the gold seal with the initial "C" engraved on it. How many different people are going to send this out? he thought, breaking the seal with his finger and taking a sheet of paper out. Quickly, he read it with a smirk, already knowing the gist of it.
"So, they want me back, do they? No surprise there." He went over it again. "I'm one of only two people who can enter alone? And there's six months to get ready. I guess they want people to be more prepared for this one than the last." His mind drifted back to the events that happened in the previous tournaments; his most unforgettable, that of the last - the Riot of Blood that cost his teammates their lives. "I can still hear their screams echo continuously in my mind," the red-head Yagami laid his head back and closed his eyes, "and see the horrified look on their lovely faces as I ripped their bodies apart." He opened them and stared at two long objects dangling from the wall - one red, the other white. "No more of them... No more of those slow cowards... No more Eiji Kisaragi; no more Billy Kane; and, definitely, no more Mature or Vice. No more "Yagami Team".... just me." With a calm smile on his face, he lifted the letter close to his face and softly kissed it. Just me...
Chapter 2:
Carnival
Two days of solitude have passed for Iori Yagami; two days of quiet thoughts and meditation for his power. He wanted to prepare for his training by calling on his still growing flame and strengthen it for battles that he anticipate would come searching for him, or vice versa. Maybe I can challenge the bar-tender later, he thought, recalling the previous King of Fighters where they fought for the first time. She was so much stronger than any of the women that he battled and, in a careless act of underestimating her strength, almost cost him the match. A guilty smiled cracked on his face, Maybe I should not have been so rough with her when finishing the fight. He sat quietly on his bed, staring out the window. The rain had stopped, but, now that the temperature had dropped, flakes of snow fell in its place. Two days of no food, water, or bed rest. "Time to hit the bar!"
The day was colder than any other in Paris with more than a foot of snow falling each hour; once again, it didn't bother him for most of the way. Every once in a while he'd stop to think about the KoF and this years hidden agenda. Without realizing, he'd look up and, with a hidden smile, watch the snow fall upon him. Pure, untainted snow. He continued on and finally reached the snow-blocked door of Illusion. A sign hanging on the glass read "CLOSED DUE TO WEATHER", but he saw people eating and talking inside; he didn't walk so far just to be turned away. He knocked on the glass door until the waitress from before answered from behind the glass. "Mr. Yagami?" she answered, surprised. "I'm sorry but Miss. King has closed the bar until the snow-fall calms down. I'm afraid the door is sealed tightly with ice aswell." Her tone of voice became nervous as Iori stared steadily at her, just as before.
"This is an hour walk from where I'm staying. I'm not walking back until I get something to eat and drink from here," he replied calmly. He knew he was scaring her even though he didn't mean it, so maybe she would let him in. They stared at eachother for long seconds until the silence was broken.
"Sally," they heard King's voice call, "who's at the door?"
Sally turned away and answered.
King approached the door, waving a quick "Hello" and pointing to the door's edges. "I am sorry Yagami, but, as much as I'd like to let in, the door's jammed."
She can't break through the ice herself? Iori grabbed the door handle and pulled it towards himself, breaking the thick ice with ease. "You couldn't do that yourself?" he sneered. "And here I was about to ask you for a simple favor."
King wasn't at all surprised. She held the door open and allowed him to pass. "You just saved us hours of lost business; whatever you need, ask. Do you want your spot by the window today?" Iori nodded calmly as King ordered his food and tea for him. He noticed quite a few people leave as soon as the door opened. Probably have been here all day. He sat and did as before, observe. Even with the heavy snow-fall people were still busy with their Christmas shopping.
The time came and went, and the sun was setting beautifully after three hours. Before Iori left he waited to see the owner again. "King," he started, following her from table to table as she helped take orders, "I need something from you."
She looked up surprised. "Well sure Yagami, just ask."
He hesitated. It seemed easy enough when he thought this over in his mind, but asking for a fight from someone like King was difficult; especially if you detest violence. "I... came to...uh..." He looked away, thinking of the right way to finish this, but, before he could, he was interrupted by an uncomfortable pinch in his rear-end. Annoyed, he turned to the direction of childish giggling and found a young woman clad in pink, out-of-season skirt and jacket, her back turned to him. Ignoring her, Iori turned back to King who was already back at the bar.
"I'm a little busy right now! We can talk later, is that alright?"
Damnit! Iori started for the door when he felt someone grab his wrist and pull him back.
"Iori Yagami," a soft voice called, "I wouldn't expect to find someone like you in "The City of Lights". Visiting someone special?" she teased.
Iori stared at her, trying to remember where he's seen her face, or, rather, some of her face before; her, long curved bangs hid most of her appearance from the world. "You're... Shermie from CYS." he answered with a hint of disgust.
"Hey, you did remember me."
Iori sneered. "So, then the other two losers should be close by." He glanced in every direction trying to find her companions.
"I resent that!" she replied in anger. "You shouldn't say things like that about people who aren't even here."
"So you're alone?"
She nodded with a weak smile. "Yeah. I came here to visit my grandmother before she passed away two days ago." She was quiet for a moment then regained her jubilant smile. "Yashiro and Chris are still in Japan."
Of course he's not here when I need someone to insult.
"So," Shermie went on, placing her finger on the table infront of Iori, "why are you here?
Iori was becoming annoyed. "I don't think that's really any of your business. I don't even know why I'm talking to you." He stood up and walked away.
Shermie was shocked by Iori's rudeness but she was somewhat used to it. Everytime she and her band partners would run into him on the streets, he never failed to insult them or their music. She didn't mind at all if he talked bad about their playing, but her friendship and loyalty to Yashiro Nanakase and Chris was too strong let him get away with insults to them. She got up and quickly ran to catch up with him before he left. "Since you're the only other person I haven't seen yet," she placed her hand on his shoulder and smiled, "I thought that maybe we could put our small rivalry behind us just for now and you and I could go somewhere or do something together; just to talk maybe."
Iori looked at her steadily with narrowed eyes. He grabbed her wrist, squeezing slightly but enough to cause some pain. "I really don't have time to waste on a date with you." He answered calmly but sternly. "Why don't you go back to Yashiro and the other one and try to succeed in writing a descent song?" As he stared at her he caught a glint of gold from behind her low-cut jacket. That's not....? Furious, he tightened his grip on Shermie's wrist, twisting her arm behind her back painfully and bringing her closer.
"What the hell are you doing?!" She tried twisting away but his powerful hold refused to let her go.
Never taking his eyes away from her's, he reached inside her jacket and pulled out a gold-trimmed envelope; letting Shermie go free. "Where did you get this?!" he asked, reading her name written on the front.
Shermie stared at him for a moment, curious and angry. "Someone... pinned it on my grandmother's door." She noticed him turn it around. "You haven't opened it yet?" she heard him ask. "No."
"Have the other two received one?"
"I don't know, I got it just yesterday."
There's no way I'm letting them compete. If they're down one they can't enter as a team. He slipped the letter in his pocket and walked off.
"Iori!" Shermie called after him. "I don't even know what that's for! Give it back!" She ran after him in the cold weather. "Iori!" Looking up and down the streets she finally spotted him a good distance from the bar.
Iori heard Shermie's calls in the distance but he didn't bother waiting, to him she was just another member in another rival band. He did, though, admit that she was a beauty, and the way she kept her eyes concealed, as if hiding a secret, made Iori even more interested in her. He was determined to find out her secret; he hated having to know that there were secrets in his rivals. He continued to walk, but slower than before; a small thought inside him told him to allow her to catch up. Even though he could hear her footfalls as she ran, he made no effort to walk faster. At last, he could hear her just behind him. He expected her to run up beside him, but, to his surprise, she leaped onto his shoulder performing a quick one-handstand, and landed before him with a small twist.
"Give me that letter!" she immediately commanded.
Iori gave her a quick smirk and reached his hand towards her face. "Are you angry with me now? It's so hard to tell when you keep your eyes hidden away like this," he said softly, moving strands of hair from her face, but she jolted back before anything was revealed.
"Don't you dare!" she warned aggressively. "Give me back that letter!"
Iori looked at her with false curiosity. " 'Don't you dare give me back that letter'? Well, if you changed your mind already..."
"That's not what I meant. Please, Iori, give it back."
No matter who it is, Iori Yagami does not give in easily. "You do want it? You're just going to have to get it from me." He smiled as he slipped it into his pocket. "If you want it, get it."
Shermie wasn't sure about this.
"Well?" he challenged with a grin.
Hesitant, she walked closer to him. They stared at eachother contemptuously for seconds until Shermie backed away.
"What's wrong?" Iori teased. "You seemed willing enough to try."
"I know you're stronger than me... I'm at a disadvantage."
A calm smile appeared on his face again. "Very well..." He pulled out the envelope, untied his black collar, and retied it to his arm along with the letter. "To make it easier for you." He raised his arm. "Now will you try?"
"Why do you have to make this difficult?" Shermie growled.
"You know why."
My Spiral'll hopefully surprise him, she thought to herself. She dug her buckled, pink boots into the snow for a strong push in her dash. As she was about to charge, a heavy object tackled her from the side and into the street. "Damnit!"
Iori watched curiously as a weak, short-haired, and somewhat familiar, girl apologized and pleaded. "Please," he heard her beg, "help me! There's someone after me!"
Why is this familiar? As he listened to her talk to Shermie, he argued with himself on whether or not to help, but, as before, the thoughts of the observer overruled. He stayed only to see what Shermie would do.
"Why is this person after you?" she asked the shaken girl.
"I... don't know." The girl's eyes widened as she turned to Iori. "You are ... the one who saved me from before!"
Hell, it's that girl from the other day!
"If you could beat him once, you can do it again."
Iori looked down at the girl with disconcern. "I helped once, that was all. And it's not like I cared whether you died or not, but there are laws that say you must help if someone is in danger; there were too many people watching."
The girl's heart sank. "Please, help me this one last time and I'll never ask anything of you again."
Ignoring her, Iori walked away, only to be stopped by maniacal laughter echoing from above. All three looked up to the rooftop of a department store where they saw a silhouette of a large man arching his back and laughing at the sky.
"What the hell is that?" Iori looked back and saw an unhidden terror in the girl's tearing eyes.
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Hope you liked this one as much as Kage no Kumo. Thanks^^ Copyright SNK