AUTHOR'S NOTE: When researching my other Fatal Fury fanfics, the only other thing I saw on the SNK wiki article for Hanzo Shiranui was that at some point before the events of the first Fatal Fury game, he and Jeff Bogard teamed up to fight Wolfgang Krauser for reasons that are unknown. As usual, I'm inspired more by the anime timeline and not the video games, so when I came up with the idea for this story, I bore the following in mind:
-In the OVAs, Wolfgang is at least ten years younger than he is in the video games, and also he doesn't have the X-shaped scar on his forehead;
-All the research I've done shows that Geese Howard is older than Wolfgang Krauser, and also it isn't clear just how old Wolfgang is by the time of the Fatal Fury 2 OVA. The SNK wiki does not list his age, in either the video games or the animes.
With that in mind, I took a few liberties with the SNK Wiki article, so in my story, Hanzo and Jeff fight Wolfgang's father, Rudolph, instead. I hope you enjoy it.
All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games, or the anime.
Mino, Japan – The Shiranui Dojo – August 1st, 1993
The sounds and smells of a balmy summer day drifted in through the open window of the kitchen, perfectly matching the mood of the bouncy ninja girl who was busy preparing the mid-day meal. Mai Shiranui found herself singing softly as she worked, some song performed in English that she had heard on her recent trip abroad (if she remembered correctly, the name of the song was "Linger," and the artists called themselves the Cranberries).
She didn't remember all the lyrics, but she remembered the most important ones, so she simply sang what she knew, and as she went along, she tried to fill in the blanks with the words she didn't know. Mai really didn't care if it was one-hundred percent accurate. She wanted to sing this song, even if she couldn't remember all the words, because it fit her current mood to a T.
The last few weeks had been a little hectic, but life was starting to return to normal now. Terry Bogard had gotten over his drinking problem, and managed to conquer his fears by facing and defeating Krauser. Joe Higashi was mending nicely across the ocean in South Town General Hospital, and if all went well, he would be cleared for travel in another month or two so he could complete his physical therapy in Tokyo. But most important, Mai was back in Japan with the man she loved, Terry's brother Andy Bogard, and they were finally in a relationship together. Of sorts. She and Andy still weren't what Mai would consider a "real couple," but they were getting there. Slowly but surely...
Mai was working at the kitchen counter with a large wooden bowl full of cooked sushi rice, slowly stirring in vinegar as she flapped one of her fans over the bowl to help the rice cool more evenly. She paused in this action to gaze out the kitchen window, admiring the cloudless blue sky that stretched like a sapphire blanket towards the mountains on the horizon.
It really is a perfect day, she thought as she got back to fanning the rice. Well, almost perfect. The only thing missing was that Andy was not here, with her, at her family's dojo, and instead had gone back to the Yamada dojo after they had landed in Haneda Airport last night. Mai had asked him to come with her, and say hello to her grandfather, since Andy had not seen him since the night he had left Japan to reunite with Terry in America and fight Geese Howard. Andy, however, had quickly said that he had fallen behind in his training after his most recent loss to Terry, and needed to redouble his efforts as soon as possible to get back to the level he'd been at before Terry had wounded him in the cemetery.
And that was that. Mai sensed there was another reason Andy didn't want to see Hanzo, but she didn't feel like pushing it. After their recent heart to heart chat, Mai was determined to be there for Andy, but also to take things at whatever pace Andy wanted to take them. She did not want to come on too strongly, and scare Andy off so soon after getting him back into her life.
Well, I'll give him a week to get settled back in, then maybe I'll pay him a visit, and perhaps we can spend a little time together. Yes. The thought of that gave Mai extra vigor as she finished preparing lunch for her and her grandfather. She snapped her fan shut, and dropped it back into the sleeve of her yukata. Then she transferred the now room-temperature rice to a ceramic serving bowl, and dusted it with some black and white sesame seeds. She then assembled both that and everything else she'd made onto a large, sturdy wooden tray, picked it up and headed towards the door leading out to the courtyard, using her ninja skills to perfectly balance the heavy tray on the fingertips of her left hand.
It was not as humid as it had been for most of the summer, but it was still hot out, so Mai had fixed them a cold lunch: fresh tekkamaki rolls with a side of extra rice, and some chilled pickled cabbage. The only hot thing on the menu was the tea she had brewed, but Mai had thoughtfully added a pitcher of ice water to the tray, in case they needed a cooler drink.
She found her grandfather in the side yard, under the shade of the big red pine that was probably older than the dojo itself, kneeling at a small table and writing letters to some of his old colleagues.
"Hirigohan dayo!" Mai half-shouted, half-sang as she crossed the grassy yard to where Hanzo Shiranui was working. Hanzo looked up from his writing and smiled as he saw his granddaughter approaching.
"Domo, Mai-chan," the old man said with a nod as he moved his letters off to the side, allowing Mai to kneel down on the opposite end of the table and set the tray between them. She took a moment to smooth out the skirt of her pink yukata, then she started to serve the meal.
"Are they spicy?" Hanzo asked as he looked the maki rolls over, his gray eyes shining with a glint of hope.
"Now, Ojisama," Mai said sternly as she poured their tea. "You know the doctor said you shouldn't be eating spicy food."
"Hmph." The old master gave a small grunt of indignation. "I have served in war, and fought honor duels to the death. I may be old, but I think I can still handle my spicy tuna."
"Well," Mai told him. "I do the cooking, so we eat what I make. If you ever feel like working in the kitchen, we'll eat what you want."
"That sounds exactly like something your grandmother would have told me," Hanzo said, and the two of them laughed. Hanzo then snatched a sliver of the pickled cabbage from its serving dish, and popped it into his mouth. "Well, at least I can still eat tsukemono. The day my doctor says I can't have that, I'll know he's a quack."
Mai laughed again, knowing that the pickled vegetables were one of her grandfather's favorite foods. After she had served him, she finished fixing her own plate, and for a while the two of them were silent as they ate. Then Mai pointed her chopsticks at the stack of letters and said to him: "I have to go into town to do some shopping tomorrow. If you want, I can stop by the Yubinyoku and mail those for you."
"I appreciate that, Mai-chan," Hanzo said with a polite nod. There was another moment of silence. Then he said to her: "So, your life has gotten a little more exciting lately. What was supposed to be a simple surprise visit to my friend's dojo to welcome my deshi back to Nippon turned into an adventure. When you arrived home late last night you just went straight to bed after checking in on me. Now that you've had a chance to rest from your journey, would you care to finally elaborate on what you've been up to?"
Mai couldn't help but smirk. Despite her training from the women of her clan in the ways of the kunoichi, she still was unable to keep any secrets from her grandfather. "It was an interesting trip, Ojisama." Mai then proceeded to tell Hanzo all about it.
Hanzo simply listened, and after Mai had finished the story, he was silent for a time. Then he remarked: "So, he managed to counter the Demon's finishing move with a Ku Ha Dan?" Hanzo gave a chuckle. "Jubei-san failed to mention that to me. Not that I blame him. He's taken to getting old less gracefully than I have. Still, that was an impressive move. I don't remember teaching Andy that. In fact, I can't recall anyone so young mastering that technique."
"Yes, Andy has made a lot of progress on his own in the last year," Mai responded. "And... I've also told him how I feel about him, even though I still don't know how he feels about me. And it's so hard to read him, too."
Hanzo raised a hand. "Now, Mai-chan," he said. "Andy was and still is one of my most brilliant students. He was committed to his goal, and was willing to do everything that I required, and more. He always put in three times the effort I expected from him. But he failed in one area. I still don't know if it's because I failed to properly teach him this lesson, or because he was simply unwilling to learn it, but: he was too committed, to the point where he believed that physical strength and skill were all it took to make a great fighter, so he neglected his emotional growth, choosing to bury his feelings deep down inside. He never saw that a true warrior must also master their emotions, not to shut them off, but to be in tune with them, so they are perfectly balanced. He is only now starting to realize his mistake.
"It's a fine line you must tread, Mai-chan. I know you want to be with him, now that he has returned, but you must also try to keep some distance. Andy's feelings are his, and his alone. Only he can unravel and work through them, and he must do so at his own pace. So be patient with him. Someday, he'll reach the emotional state where he will know what he wants from life... and who he wants to be with."
"Wakari masu, Ojisama," Mai said with a small bow of her head. Hanzo bowed in return, then looked down at his plate and resumed eating. Mai gazed thoughtfully at him, wondering if the old master had figured out that Mai's fondest wish was for Andy to someday marry her. She had not yet told her grandfather what her heart desired. He knew Mai felt an affection for Andy, but did he know just how deep it ran?
After a few moments, she too resumed eating, though Hanzo noticed that she was moving the last few rolls on her plate around more than she was eating them. "Don't spend too much time dwelling on it, child. I told you, it's Andy's struggle."
"No, I'm not still thinking about that, Ojisama," Mai said absently. "Just wondering if I even did any good on that trip. Jubei-sensei instructed me to go with Andy to Germany to stop him from fighting Krauser, but Krauser wasn't even there. So I feel like I didn't serve any useful purpose, other than to bring shame to both myself, and to the Shiranui school when I got captured and held prisoner by Krauser's right hand. I feel like I failed you."
"Failure is only absolute if it gets us killed," Hanzo reminded her. "If you live through it, that's half the battle. The other half is learning from it so we do not fail again. Did you learn from your failure?"
Mai nodded slowly, her gaze still on her plate. "Hai, Ojisama," she answered.
"What did you learn?"
Mai took a breath. She'd been pondering this question ever since she got back, as she knew her grandfather would ask it. After a moment she said: "I've learned that I need to focus better in a fight, to be more attuned to my surroundings so I can hear when an enemy approaches, even if I can't see them. And also I need to find a way to concentrate more fire into my Ryu En Bu attack."
"Those are good lessons," said Hanzo. "Also, when you were this man's prisoner, did you tell him anything?"
Mai shook her head, her brown eyes suddenly shining with deep resolve. "No. He tried to get me to talk, but I'll never betray my friends."
Hanzo nodded his head. "Your honor was tested for the first time in your life, and it sounds like you passed that test. So you returned a stronger fighter than you were when you left. And hopefully more focused, as well."
"I'm still not sure what good I did while I was there," said Mai.
"It sounds like you did enough. You helped your friends when they needed it, by tending to the wounded. Remember that I taught you just as much about healing as I did about how to inflict injury."
Mai allowed her expression to soften, and looked up at her grandfather. "I guess you're right, Ojisama," she said. And besides, this trip got Andy to realize he feels something for me that's stronger than friendship. Her appetite renewed, Mai snatched up another roll with her chopsticks and popped it in her mouth.
"I know I'm right," Hanzo said with a chuckle. "Besides, after you took off, Jubei-san came down here to keep me company while you were away, and during his visit, he explained to me why he sent you with Andy. I agreed with his logic. Based on your description of what Krauser did to your friend Higashi-san, he was much stronger than his father. In which case, Andy was not ready to face him, despite how much he might have progressed since we last saw each other. I speak from personal experience."
Mai sat up a bit straighter on the grass. She was trying to figure out just how her grandfather would know anything about Krauser. The only thing she could think of was that Hanzo had heard the same stories as Jubei. "What do you mean, Ojisama? How do you know?"
"About twenty years ago, shortly before you were born," Hanzo explained. "I faced Wolfgang-kun's father, Rudolph Krauser, in battle. I was assisted by Bogard-Jeffrey-san."
The ninja girl's dark brown eyes opened wide in shock. "You never told me you knew Andy's father!"
The aging master nodded. "I'm surprised I haven't told you. It's one of the reasons I agreed to take Andy on as an apprentice after Jeffrey-san was murdered. You're sure you haven't heard this story?"
"No, Ojisama," said Mai. Her grandfather had told her many stories about his past, but Mai would definitely have remembered one involving Jeff Bogard.
Hanzo settled back against the trunk of the red pine, resting his back on the cushion Mai had provided when he'd first come outside. "Perhaps I should rectify that now," he said.
Mai nodded as she refilled both their tea cups. "Please, grandfather? I'd like to hear it."
Hanzo smiled and picked up his cup. "Like I said, it was very shortly before you were born..." Mai leaned forward slightly, chin resting on her hands, listening with rapt attention as Hanzo told his tale...
Twenty Years Earlier – December 19th, 1973
"Do you really need to leave now?" Tadatsugu Shiranui asked his father as the two of them made their way down the hall towards the door leading outside to the training yard. "You had promised to be here for the birth of our firstborn, which the doctor says could either be tomorrow... or in a few weeks."
Hanzo Shiranui stopped in his rapid walking down the corridor, and turned to face Tadatsugu. The elder ninja was dressed for winter travel, in a dark blue wool hakama and tunic (with a thermal shirt underneath), and a heavy brown haori draped over his shoulders. His jet black hair, which was starting to gray around the temples, was pulled into a more modern version of the chonmage, more modern because the top of his head was not shaved. The dark gray eyes above his sharp, hatchet nose regarded his son with a look that bordered on sorrow, mixed with a stern resolve.
"Believe me," Hanzo said. "No one understands the gravity of a promise better than I do. But you know what has recently transpired under our roof. And the longer I wait on this matter, the greater the potential threat against all of us, including your unborn daughter. I must find this thief before his trail gets too cold. If the rest of our clan learns of what he took, and that I waited so long before acting upon it, they may begin to question my leadership."
Tadat shook his head. "Please. You know that if they found out about this theft, they would spend even longer deliberating over the best course of action."
"All the more reason I must act now," said Hanzo. "But I have told you that I will not be going alone."
"Yes, I know that Tung-san's star pupil will be meeting you," Tadat said with a sigh. "But I don't see why it shouldn't be me fighting with you."
"When I was younger than you are now, still just a foolish, headstrong private in the Dai-Nippon Taikoku Rikugun, I might have said the same thing," Hanzo replied. "But no. Your place is here, in case your little one does arrive while I'm gone."
Tadatsugu stared hard into Hanzo's steel-gray eyes. Then he blew out a sharp breath. "This would be easier to accept, if I knew exactly what this thief had taken that was so important."
Hanzo placed both hands on Tadat's shoulders. "When the time is right, you will know. But time is finite for every man, and now, I must move before it runs out." With that, he started back up the corridor and made his way outside.
A half dozen students were seated in various positions on the hard winter soil of the practice field, doing their best to ignore the December chill in their training dogi, when Hanzo and his son emerged. As soon as the students saw the master making his way towards them, they stood and went rigid, hands at their sides.
Hanzo stopped a few paces from the group, regarded them with a gaze as sharp as flint, and cleared his throat. "I regret, my senpai, that I must leave temporarily on an urgent matter that requires my attention. I hope to be back within a week." He gestured to Tadatsugu, who stood alongside him. "In the meantime, Tadat-sensei is in charge. You are to obey his word as if it were mine. Is that understood?"
Moving as one, the six youths bowed their heads respectfully and shouted, "Hai, sensei!"
Hanzo turned his gaze to his son. "They're all yours," he said with a smirk.
Tadatsugu gave him a hard look, then, a look that said there many things he still wanted to ask, but he'd learned as a boy never to question Hanzo about family matters in front of students. Instead, he simply gave a silent nod. Then he turned to the assembled youths and spoke in his sternest voice: "Now then, after we've all warmed up a little by running a few laps around the field, which one of you sprouts can tell me where Hanzo-sensei left off?"
Hanzo left him to it, and made his way back inside. He knew that his daughter-in-law was resting in her room, and the elder ninjitsu master decided not to disturb her. He had already told her before she went to lie down that he had to take a trip, and she had taken the news harder than Tadatsugu had. She seemed to think he was putting his loyalty to the Shiranui clan over his love for his family, which was a logical assumption for her to make. Someday, when she wasn't burdened with the stress of her impending delivery, Hanzo would explain that his love for her and Tadat, and for his granddaughter, was the reason he was undertaking this mission. Someday...
His travel bag was in the foyer by the front door. As he lifted the bag and shouldered it, he heard a voice from behind him: "Sneaking out on me without saying goodbye again, shujin? Typical ninja."
Hanzo turned, and smiled at his wife. She was about his age (maybe a few years younger), dressed in a dark green kimono with a silver obi, her face slightly careworn from the hassle of raising a child like Tadatsugu (the boy had been a handful when he was smaller), her salt and pepper hair pulled back into a bun that was held in place with an ornamental hairpin carved from whale bone. The pin had been a gift from her mother shortly before the woman had passed, and she had received it from her mother, and so on back down through the family tree, so no one really knew how old it was.
Hanzo approached her, and took both her hands in his. "I'm hardly typical, Saiai-chan," he said with a chuckle.
"Indeed," Saiai Shiranui said with a small nod. "That's why I love you." Her expression turned a bit more serious, then. "I spoke to Kasai-chan shortly after you did. She was still upset by the news, but I managed to calm her down a bit. I understand why you must go. I just wish the timing had been better."
"Ninja must always be ready to expect the unexpected," Hanzo said, as he gently stroked the knuckles on his wife's hands.
"I know. But that doesn't make it any easier. Still, I knew what I was getting into all those years ago, just as I'm sure Kasai knew when she married our son." Saiai flicked her brown eyes at the bag over Hanzo's shoulder. "I wrapped some steamed gyoza in foil for you, and stuck them in your bag, in case you get hungry on the train."
Hanzo smiled at her again. His wife knew all too well of his tendency to get peckish when he was traveling. "Domo, omae. But speaking of trains, I have to leave now, so I can catch the next one to Tokyo. I'll return as soon as I can." He kissed her tenderly, then started towards the doorway.
"Ki o tsukete," he heard his wife call after him.
"Fudan," Hanzo said over his shoulder, and then opened the door to the cold December afternoon, and started towards the long staircase that led down to his waiting cab. As he walked, Hanzo allowed his memory to drift back to the phone conversation he'd had last night, shortly after learning of the theft that had taken place under his roof.
"Forgive me, my friend," Tung Fu Rue said, his voice sounding tinny over the phone. "I'm afraid it's my fault that he snuck into your home and stole from you."
"Unless this Geese Howard acted on your orders, I don't see how it is your fault," Hanzo replied grimly. The middle-aged ninjitsu master was seated in his study, clutching the receiver of a rotary telephone that sat on his writing desk. The hour was late in Mino, and everyone else in the house had gone to bed. But over in South Town, the day was just beginning. However, given the tone of his colleague's voice, Hanzo could tell that Tung had suffered a sleepless night.
"He was my student," Tung insisted. "Yes, it was only recently that I saw his true intentions, which is why I announced that Jeffrey, and not him, would be the successor to my school. But before that, I trusted him. I took him under my roof and treated him like he was my own blood. Because of the stories I had told him, he knew of the existence of your clan, your dojo, and he surmised that you might have knowledge he could steal. Perhaps if I had noticed the sickness upon his heart, his unwholesome lust for power a little sooner, this might not have..."
"Stop that nonsense, Tung-san," Hanzo cut him off. "You know I have never believed in that old saying that there are no bad students. I have had students come through my door who were so dumb, they could not tell their Atama from their Ushiro, even if you drew them a diagram. I had to throw them out a week later, because training them would have just wasted my time and theirs. I will judge for myself, after I find this Geese Howard, whether the failure was truly yours."
"Still, as I feel responsible, I want to help you. He was my student. He and my star pupil trained closely together. Jeffrey knows how Geese thinks. I want to send him over to you, so he can assist you in your search."
Hanzo knew that it would be an insult to refuse. "Very well, old friend. I would like to accept your offer of assistance. But, I don't think I can wait for him to get here before I set out."
"I knew you would say that," said Tung. "Which is why I have already put him on a flight to Tokyo. He should be at Haneda Airport tomorrow evening by your time." Tung then gave him the airline and flight number, which Hanzo hastily jotted down on a piece of note paper.
"How will I know him when I see him?" Hanzo asked.
"You'll recognize what he's wearing," Tung said simply. "Good luck, my friend." Then there was a click as he hung up.
Haneda Airport, Tokyo – December 19th, 1973
Hanzo sat at a small table in the airport terminal, just outside of the ebb and flow of human traffic, drinking green tea and watching the bustle of people going about their lives: wives and children saying goodbye to husbands and fathers as they got ready to board departing flights, or cheerfully greeting them as they arrived back home; others trying to race to a gate before their flight left without them; porters pushing carts laden with bags of all sizes, moving them to and from connecting flights, or to the baggage claim area.
Hanzo had deliberately traveled light, partially because he hoped that by doing so, fate and/or karma might make his trip shorter. His bag contained only a few changes of clothing, some personal hygiene items, and a few old books to help him pass the time. The only other things he'd brought were some small weapons concealed in the haori he currently wore. He imagined airport security wouldn't be thrilled if they knew Hanzo was armed, but ninja knew many ways of smuggling weapons in a manner to avoid detection, even by electronic devices designed to sense metal. Besides, Hanzo had learned during the war never to draw a weapon unless you also intended to draw blood with it. And right now, the only man Hanzo intended to use them on was probably not in this airport.
The serving girl glided silently up to Hanzo's table, ceramic teapot in one hand, and cleared her throat daintily. Hanzo turned to her and nodded politely as he held out his nearly empty teacup. "Domo," he said to the girl as she refilled it. Her hands were shaking slightly, causing a few drops to spill onto the table top.
The girl quickly produced a small rag with her other hand and wiped the tabletop clean. "Sumimasen," she said with a small bow of her head.
"Shinpainaide kudasai," Hanzo replied, and waved his hand absently. "And when you have a moment, can you please bring me the bill?"
"Haatsu," the girl said, then turned and walked quickly away. Hanzo smiled sadly as she departed. The poor girl was clearly a little intimidated by him, probably because of the way he was dressed. In the more heavily populated areas of Japan, western fashions were starting to become more popular, particularly among the generation born after the war. Hanzo's attire was now usually seen only on those with a background in fighting, be they war veterans or simply masters of the arts (or in Hanzo's case, both).
His suspicions became stronger a few moments later, when the girl returned with his check, placed it on the table, gave a small bow as quickly as she could without appearing rude, and then shuffled off to tend to another table. In his younger days, such behavior might have amused him. But right now, Hanzo had places to be. As he was finishing the last of the tea in his cup, he heard over the grainy PA system that the flight number Tung had given him last night was arriving. Hanzo made a mental note of the gate, then got up, placed some yen on the tabletop, shouldered his bag, and joined the rush of people that he'd been content to watch only moments ago.
He arrived at the designated gate just as a throng of people began to trickle out of it. Most of them appeared Japanese, so Hanzo reflected that it would probably be easy to spot an American in that crowd, which meant that his question to Tung last night might have been a little foolish.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, he saw a few more natives emerge from the gate, and nestled in between them was a pale-skinned man with black hair and a black mustache, dressed in jeans and a denim jacket, carrying a travel bag slung over one shoulder. Tied around his forehead was a crimson headband, emblazoned with the family crest of Tung's Hakkyokuseiken school.
Hanzo approached the man after the crowd around him had dispersed. "Jeffrey-san?" He asked.
The denim-clad man straightened a little, and then bowed respectfully. "Shiranui-san?" He answered. "Boku Bogard-Jeffrey. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu."
Hanzo raised one of his eyebrows. "You speak Japanese?" He asked in his native language.
"Not as well as my Mandarin," Jeffrey Bogard replied in kind. "But I know enough to get by."
"Wǒ hěn pèifú yīgè shuō dōngfāng yǔyán de rén," Hanzo said to him, in Chinese.
Now it was the American's turn to raise an eyebrow. After a moment, his expression softened, and he began to laugh a little. "You're just what I was expecting, based off Shifu Tung's stories of you," he said.
"I'll need to have a word with him, then, after this is all over," Hanzo said with a laugh of his own. Then his expression became more stern. "But for now, we have business to attend to, Jeffrey-san. I'm sure my good friend Tung has told you why he sent you?"
"He gave me some details," said Jeff. "But do you mind if we discuss this sitting down, Shiranui-san? I could use a hot meal after that flight. While we eat, I'll tell you what I know."
"While you eat, you mean," said Hanzo. "I'm not hungry. But please, follow me."
With that, Hanzo turned and quickly started back into the throng of people. Jeff Bogard shouldered his bag again and did his best to keep up.
One of the things Hanzo quickly learned about Jeff Bogard was that the man was not picky when it came to food. They sat down in the first restaurant they came across in the terminal and Jeff simply asked for whatever was ready, which turned out to be yakisoba. For a while, the two warriors were silent, Hanzo drinking tea while Jeff tucked into the bowl of fried noodles, pork and shredded vegetables.
Finally, when it looked like the bowl was almost empty, Hanzo cleared his throat. "Now, then, Jeffrey-san, did Tung tell you anything about what transpired under my roof?"
Jeff set his chopsticks down and took a long drink of water from his glass. Then he answered: "Simply that someone snuck into your dojo the night before last, after everyone was in bed, and took something from your study. He accidentally awoke one of your senpai, who was knocked out by the thief, but not before getting a look at the thief's face. Based on his description, it sounds like you were robbed by Geese Howard."
"Did Tung tell you what the thief took?"
"Only that it was valuable, but not meant for the eyes of anyone who is not of Shiranui blood."
Hanzo nodded grimly. "I'm afraid that is all you can know. As long as you don't ask any questions about what was stolen, we will get along fine."
Jeff nodded in return, and then proceeded to tell Hanzo some background on the person he believed they were looking for. He started by saying that Hanzo's student was lucky Geese had been in a hurry to escape, otherwise the senpai would likely be dead. He then told him about how Geese first came to Master Tung's dojo in search of knowledge. At least, that had been his cover story. Geese was aware that Tung had no sons, and was looking for an heir, to whom he could pass on both his dojo, and also the most secret techniques of his Hakkyokuseiken school.
As Hanzo listened, he also sized up his new travel companion. His style of dress was very American, but despite this Jeff Bogard still carried himself with the air of someone who had devoted his life to the path of the warrior. It made him seem much older than he was, which Hanzo estimated was early twenties.
"I take back what I said earlier, Shiranui-san," Jeff said. "Geese did come to my master's dojo for knowledge, but once Shifu Tung learned what he was planning to use that knowledge for, he realized that Geese could never be his heir. Geese left the dojo in a rage after Shifu Tung broke the news to him."
"What was his motivation for training?" Hanzo asked.
Jeff then went on to explain that Geese had once told him a little about his past: how Geese and his mother had been abandoned by Geese's father when Geese was a baby, how they had been forced to live in poverty growing up, which affected his mother's health so that she died while Geese was still a young boy. "Geese's father was Rudolph Krauser, Earl of Von Stroheim and head of the royal Von Stroheim family in West Germany," Jeff told him. "Rudolph apparently left them because he knew his family would never permit a German-American half blood born out of wedlock, whose mother was a commoner to boot, to be accepted into their family. So he returned to Germany without them and married a noble woman instead. His second son, Geese's half-brother Wolfgang Krauser, is heir to their father's lands, title, and fortune. Geese despises them both. He was learning from my shifu in order to someday be strong enough to get revenge on the Von Stroheim family."
"That is likely why he stole from me," Hanzo said. "To gain knowledge to use against them. So, you believe that the Von Stroheims could tell us something of his whereabouts?"
"I'd say it's a good bet," Jeff said with a nod. "And the best lead we have."
"Then we'll need to find an information kiosk so that we can purchase tickets on the first available flight to West Germany." Hanzo rose from his seat and reached into the pocket of his haori. Jeff Bogard shook his head as he reached into his jeans pocket for his wallet.
"Please, Shiranui-san," he said. "My shifu insisted that I pay my own way."
"Your master has done enough already, putting you on a plane out here," Hanzo said as he produced some yen from his pocket and placed it on the table. "We may be traveling but I consider you my guest. Besides, money's no object. My clan has enough of it."
Jeff rose from his chair and gave a respectful bow. "Domo, Shiranui-san," he said. And with that, the two men shouldered their bags and were off again.
Stroheim, West Germany – December 20th, 1973
As it turned out, getting seats on a flight at the last minute was not easy, especially given the time of year. At first, it looked like Jeffrey and Hanzo would have needed to wait a few days before they would have been able to get on a flight to Germany. Then an elderly couple who had tickets to Hamburg overheard their plight. The man had recognized the Shiranui clan crest sewn into the breast of Hanzo's tunic, and recalled a time thirty years earlier in Manchuria, when he was a lieutenant in the Imperial Japanese Army. His platoon had been pinned down in a village surrounded by enemy soldiers, and they were saved at the last minute by another Japanese battalion, several of whom had that same crest sewn into the shoulder of their uniforms. So he had offered Hanzo and Jeff the boarding passes for himself and his wife, saying that they would simply catch the next flight that they could.
After arriving in Hamburg, the two warriors proceeded north by train, and then taxicab, to Stroheim, a small but prosperous village near the coast of the North Sea. They were now proceeding through the cobbled streets of the town via horse-drawn carriage on their way to Mittelbirge Castle.
Though there was no snow on the ground, the village was still brightly decorated for the Christmas holiday. Hanzo did not celebrate Christmas, but he was aware that the German people had a fondness for the "tannenbaum." As they moved through the streets, Hanzo could see the tall, fresh-smelling evergreens inside the windows of shops, and also in the center of every roundabout they made their way through. Some were decorated with brightly colored glass balls and garlands of popcorn and cranberries, others were festooned with tinsel or glass lanterns with actual candles inside.
Next to him in the carriage, Jeff Bogard looked around at the decorations with hint of longing in his dark brown eyes. Though he had made the decision to embrace the Eastern philosophies when he became Tung's student, Jeff still had fond memories of Christmas from when he was a boy. And he still did his best to honor the sense of fellowship, and showing love for family, that were a part of the season. He hated to be traveling abroad so close to the holiday, but he knew how far back Tung and Hanzo went, and so he would obey his shifu by helping the Koppou-ken master in his task.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jeff stole a glance at Hanzo, noticing how the ninja warrior simply sat there with his hands resting on his lap, looking straight ahead with eyes unblinking, as they left the bright decorations of the village behind and started up the hill towards the castle. Ever since getting on the plane to Hamburg, Hanzo had barely said more than two words to him. He had spent the flight either sleeping, reading, or meditating. He accepted a bag of complimentary peanuts whenever he was asked, which had amused Jeff, largely because the younger man also had a tendency to get hungry easily on long trips. But other than that, Hanzo didn't talk much.
So far, Jeff had managed to avoid letting the silence make him uncomfortable, but now it was too much for him. So he asked: "Is... this your first time in Germany, Shiranui-san?"
"Hai," Hanzo answered. Though he still looked straight ahead, he studied Jeff's expression out of the very corner of his eyes, and could tell the young American had more questions on the tip of his tongue.
Just as Jeff was about to say something else, Hanzo asked the question for him: "You were asking because of our alliance during the second World War?"
"I... wasn't trying to offend, Shiranui-san," Jeff quickly said. "Just... we haven't talked much and since I can't ask you about what Geese stole, I need to find other things to talk about."
Though Hanzo regarded him with a stern eye, inside he was laughing. I can see why Tung took him in. He reminds me of a young Jubei Yamada, without the sexism. After a moment, Hanzo answered: "I was about your age when me and several members of my clan enlisted in the Imperial Japanese Army. I never saw action in the Pacific, only in Asia."
"Even if you had fought Americans, I wouldn't care," Jeff told him. "My shifu lived through the same time as you. He told me that war can have strange effects on otherwise rational people. At the time, loyalty to country must have seemed rational, because that was easy for young minds to grasp. It doesn't matter what happened between the Axis and the Allies. That was then, this is now. And now, you and I are in the same fight."
Hanzo laughed, and clapped Jeff on the shoulder. "My friend chose his successor well. And you're right. As a young, foolish boy who loved his homeland, I believed at the time that Hirohito-sama was doing the will of the gods by forming an alliance with Germany and Italy. It was only after the war, when my son was born, that I read about the atrocities that were committed by our European allies. It led me to also regret the way my country's military treated your prisoners of war, just because we had not signed your Geneva Convention. Today... I still love my country, but I believe we are doing ourselves a disservice if we were to isolate our island from the rest of the world. So if you wish to know my impressions of Germany: I think it is a beautiful country that has rebuilt itself well after the war. Once they conquer their division, they can be a great nation, as long as they remember the mistakes of their past."
"I can see why you and my master became friends," Jeff told Hanzo. "But I've never learned how. How does a friendship like that form between two men on opposite sides of a war?"
Ahead of them, the quaint, yet somehow ominous structure of Mittelbirge Castle began to loom larger in their field of vision. Despite looking like something out of a fairy tale, the castle still managed to carry an air of foreboding about it. "That will have to wait for another time," Hanzo said. "We are getting close. Before we arrive: please tell me what you know of the Von Stroheims."
Jeff sat back in the carriage and steepled his fingers in front of his face. "Only that they're an old house, one of the older ones in Europe, who have been very influential on the world stage down through the centuries. Though they prefer to be anonymous, so much of their work has been done behind the scenes."
"I've heard the same thing from another old friend of mine," Hanzo said grimly. "They are very powerful, but they do not flaunt this power openly, which makes them extremely dangerous. We must be cautious. Stay alert."
Almost as if it could hear and understand their words, the horse pulling their carriage slowed from a steady trot to a more cautious pace as they neared the high, slate gray walls of the castle. To their surprise, they saw that not only was the drawbridge lowered, but the portcullis was raised.
"I see what you mean, Shiranui-san," Jeff whispered to the ninjitsu master. "I thought getting into the castle would be a problem. This is too easy."
Hanzo simply grunted in response. A moment later, the carriage came to halt before the lowered drawbridge. Hanzo paid the driver in German marks that he had gotten at the airport through currency exchange. Jeff noticed that he paid the man double what the fare was. "For your time, while you wait for us out here," Hanzo explained to the driver. "I do not expect this visit to take long, and we will need transportation back to the village."
"Ja, das ist gut," the coachman replied as he tucked the money inside his jacket. "I'll wait for you here." He then got down from the driver's chair and started tending to his horse. Hanzo and Jeff left him to it, then exited the carriage and made their way across the drawbridge.
After passing through the gates, the Japanese master and the American warrior found themselves in a courtyard, which was deserted except for one other person. A beardless youth in his early teens with jet black hair, dressed in the style of a Spanish matador, was practicing a series of moves in the middle of the courtyard, a fighting style that involved both a rapier and a red cape. As Hanzo and Jeff drew near, he paused in his practice and spun to face them, swinging his sword around along with him.
"Is my master expecting you?" The dark-haired boy asked them.
Hanzo bowed politely and answered: "No. But will you please go and ask him if he will speak with us? We are here on urgent business."
Instead of going off to do as Hanzo asked, the boy shifted into a fighting stance. "I'll decide what's urgent. And as far as I know, my master speaking with an old Jap and his American sidekick isn't urgent."
"Nevertheless, we must speak with him," Hanzo calmly replied, clearly non-fazed by the boy's bravado. "Will you go and ask him?"
"And why should I?" The boy practically spat at them.
Jeff Bogard had been trying to stay calm and let Hanzo do the talking, but the sheer disrespect being shown by one so young was starting to gnaw at him. "Because his life may be in danger!" He shouted at the boy. "We might be able to help him!"
"Jeffrey-san!" Hanzo said with a raise of his hand. Then he said to the black-haired boy: "Please excuse my companion. But he does have a point. We carry information that may be crucial to your master's survival. Will you allow us to speak with him?"
"If you can get past me," the boy said with a sneer, brandishing his rapier menacingly at both of the older men. "See how well you fare against my Bloody Slash!"
"LAURENCE!" A deep, authoritative voice boomed over the courtyard. The boy turned, and the gazes of both Hanzo and Jeff followed him to the other end of the courtyard. There, standing in the arched doorway leading inside the castle, they saw a tall, impassive-looking man with long purple hair that was turning white, and a short white beard, dressed in a gold breastplate with matching over-sized shoulder guards, and a black cloak. "You may stand aside, Laurence!" He snapped at the black-haired boy. "I will see these gentlemen."
Without hesitation, the boy sheathed his rapier, and bowed low at the older man. "As you command, my lord," he said, then stepped to the side with his head still bowed, allowing Hanzo and Jeff to pass. The two warriors approached the lord of the castle cautiously, and Jeff couldn't help but cast a glance over his shoulder. However, he saw that the dark-haired boy had gone back to his practice, as if their altercation had never happened.
When they reached the doorway, Hanzo Shiranui bowed his head, and so Jeff Bogard decided to do the same, though like Hanzo his eyes remained raised, so that they still looked the castle's master in his own eyes. The man casually waved a hand and bid them to rise.
"I must apologize for my protege," he said. "Centuries ago, his house swore fealty to mine. His loyalty is without question, and he shows much promise as a swordsman. But his arrogance continues to be his greatest weakness."
"It has the potential to be a dangerous one," Hanzo said. "I hope for his sake he learns to overcome it."
The lord of the castle nodded in agreement, then he said to them: "I'm sure you know who I am." It was not a question.
Both men nodded their heads in return. "We do, Krauser-sama," Hanzo answered. "I am Shiranui-Hanzo, master of the Shiranui dojo of Japan. My companion here is Bogard-Jeffrey, disciple of the Hakkyokuseiken dojo of South Town, United States. We appreciate you speaking with us."
Rudolph Krauser nodded, then turned and pushed open the heavy oak doors. "It is cold out here," he said. "Follow me, and we shall speak in more civilized surroundings."
Hanzo Shiranui and Jeffrey Bogard followed the man inside. They traveled down plain corridors of slate gray stone which had little decoration to them. Occasionally, they would pass a servant seeing to their duties, who would stand off to the side and bow his head until they passed. Finally, they came to another arched door, which Rudolph pushed open.
The door led into a very cozy-looking study, with a fireplace and several over-sized easy chairs whose frames were made of wood, but whose seats were made of soft plush fabric that looked like they had seen much use. Two of those chairs were occupied by a young boy with purple hair, and an older man (though not yet truly old, as he looked to be somewhere in his early forties). The boy had an ancient-looking tome spread open on his lap, bound in heavy leather, and seemed to be trying to recite passages from it with the help of the older man.
As the door opened, the older man, who was impeccably-dressed, rose and bowed his head. "My lord," he greeted Rudolph.
"Sebastian," Rudolph said to the man. "Please take young Wolfgang to the Great Hall and finish his lesson there. I have business with these gentleman."
"At once, my lord," Sebastian answered, and then took the heavy leather volume from the purple-haired boy, snapped it shut, and tucked it under one arm. "Please, young master," he said to the boy. Sebastian started towards the door, then turned and asked his lord: "Do you or your guests desire any refreshment?"
"Some tea, please," Hanzo answered.
"The same for me," said Jeff.
"Nothing for me, thank you, Sebastian," said Rudolph.
"Very well, my lord," the butler said with another bow, and then continued towards the study door. He paused in the archway, and saw that his pupil, the young boy with purple hair, was still standing by his chair, eyeing Rudolph's guests curiously.
"Young master, please!" Sebastian repeated, holding a hand out to the boy. "You heard your father!"
When the youth still did not move, Rudolph raised his hand and snapped: "Wolfgang!"
This seemed to quell the boy's interest in the current situation, and he quickly said, "Yes, father!" Then marched briskly towards the doorway and followed Sebastian out.
After the door was shut, Rudolph sat down in one of the chairs by the roaring fire, which was slightly larger and looked a little older than the other two. Hanzo took a seat in one of the other chairs, though Jeff allowed himself a brief moment to glance around the study, the "old soul" in him admiring the sheer number of books that filled the cases which were carved into the walls. Finally, just as Hanzo was about to tell him to sit, Jeff took the only other empty chair.
"I was in Manchuria briefly during the war, on 'unofficial business' for the Reich, though in truth House Von Stroheim was secretly helping to orchestrate the downfall of the Axis powers," Rudolph said to Hanzo. "I had a chance to observe soldiers in your Emperor's military, and was very impressed with the way they fought: ruthlessly, but tempered by a mask of honor and civility. It was quite amusing to watch."
"I'm glad you seemed to think so," Hanzo said, keeping his expression neutral. "I myself spent several sleepless nights upon returning home after our surrender, wondering if some of the things I had witnessed my fellow soldiers do in the name of Nippon and Hirohito-sama were truly 'honorable.'"
Rudolph seemed amused by this. Beneath his white beard, one side of his mouth lifted into a smirk. "Your clan are practitioners of ninjitsu, Master Hanzo," he said. "Did you know that every technique in that art was learned on the field of battle? That is to say, you know of them because the men and women who first tried and tested them lived long enough to teach them to others."
"I was aware of this," Hanzo said with a nod. If he was surprised by how Rudolph knew this about his clan, he did not show it.
"We are warriors," Rudolph went on. "'War' is in our very name. It is what we know, what we have been born into and raised for, so it is nothing to be ashamed of. It's our nature. A dog does not lose sleep over the fact that it is a dog. Neither should a man bred for fighting."
"People are more than dogs," Jeff protested, sitting up slightly in his chair.
"Are they indeed?" Rudolph Krauser asked him. "In our line of work, there are two types of people: dogs and masters. The master throws the stick, and the dog fetches. You are a long way from home, Jeffrey Bogard. For what other reason are you here than to obey the whim of your master, who sent you to 'fetch'?"
Jeff was now gripping the arms of his chair so hard his knuckles were starting to blanche. Hanzo was about to say something when the mustached man took a deep breath. "I am here because I respect Tung Fu Rue, who took me in and gave me a new lease on life. I am in his debt, so if he asks me to help one of his oldest friends, I'll do it. Not because I have to, but because I want to."
Rudolph shrugged and sat casually back in his soft chair. "As you say." Thankfully, a servant took that moment to knock on the study door. "Enter," Rudolph called.
After the man had entered, given Hanzo and Jeff their tea, and then departed, Rudolph Krauser sat up once more, folded his hands in front of his face. "But enough pleasantries. Now that you have your drinks and we will not be disturbed any further: I assume you are here on business?"
"We are," Hanzo said with a curt nod. "And we appreciate you seeing us. If your gates had not been opened, Jeffrey-san and I would have needed to sneak in."
"Yes, I've been keeping them open on purpose," Rudolph explained. "Ever since I learned of my son's disappearance from your friend's school. I am aware of his intentions towards my family."
"For a man who claims to know much of the ways of the warrior," said Hanzo. "It might be considered tactically foolish to keep your drawbridge lowered. Especially when you know your enemy is out there?"
Rudolph threw his head back and chuckled for a moment. "Is it really that foolish? I am aware that if he has gone underground, the most likely place he will resurface is here. So I leave my gates open, lull my enemy into a false sense of security, and let him come to me. I already know he will be no match for me. And when he does come, I will rectify the mistake I made during my visit to America, when I allowed myself to be wiled by the charms of an American peasant."
Hanzo and Jeff exchanged a brief glance as their host continued to chuckle coldly. Jeff Bogard's thoughts were a mix of horror and disbelief, the latter over the fact that any man could speak this way about their own blood. Suddenly, a part of him actually felt some sympathy towards Geese. Some, but only a little. During the years they had trained together, Jeff always had the feeling that it wasn't just revenge against the Von Stroheims that drove Geese Howard to try and excel. He was fueled by other ambitions as well, ones much darker than personal vengeance.
Now, Jeff looked over at Hanzo and tried to guess what the Koppou-Ken master might be thinking. Hanzo's gray eyes were unreadable, however. After a moment, he told Rudolph: "Your family problems are none of my concern, so I will keep my opinions to myself. What does concern me is that a few nights ago, your son entered my home and stole something very valuable, both to me and to my clan. I was told that you might know where we can find this Howard boy. I would be grateful if you could share this information, so that I might reclaim my stolen property."
"While I apologize for the loss of your property," Rudolph answered, "And understand your desire for satisfaction, I am afraid that I must keep the knowledge of my son's possible whereabouts to myself. He may be a by-blow from an American commoner, but he is still my blood. Therefore, my troubles with him will remain my own."
Jeff leaned forward in his chair, closer to the older man. "But you said yourself he wants to kill you. Why would you protect him?"
"I am not protecting him at all," Rudolph corrected. "He wants to kill me. He will likely try very soon. But he will not succeed. And I do not send anyone to fight my battles for me. I will deal with him myself when the time comes."
Jeff could feel his blood starting to boil. He glanced at Hanzo out of the corner of his eye, saw the older man sitting calmly in his chair, still sipping his tea. He wondered why Hanzo was just sitting there, as it was his property they were after. Finally, he decided to speak, since Hanzo was not going to. "You realize that if you won't help us," he said. "We'll need to get the information some other way."
"You will try," Rudolph said, sounding almost bored. "You might last a little longer than Geese will, but ultimately you will fail, too."
Jeff set down his tea, looking ready to leap from his chair at the smug noble sitting across from him, when Hanzo cleared his throat. "Jeffrey-san," he said firmly. "This man willingly invited us into his home. We will not dishonor his hospitality by attacking him now." He then said to Krauser: "However, my companion is correct. I must know where I can find this Geese Howard. And if facing you in combat is the only way I will get that answer, then so be it. I will allow you to choose both the time and place where we can settle this matter."
Rudolph Krauser laughed and then rose from his chair. "I choose to settle this now, in my Great Hall. I prefer to conduct these matters under my own roof, and there is no time like the present."
Hanzo and Jeff exchanged another glance, and then Hanzo answered: "If that is your wish, we will settle it now, then."
"Wonderful!" Rudolph said as he clapped his hands together. "I'll give you a few moments to prepare. Please wait here, and a servant will be along shortly to escort you to the Great Hall. Now, if you'll excuse me..." With that, he strode from the study, his black cloak billowing behind him.
After he was gone, Jeff Bogard gave Hanzo a respectful bow. "I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn just now. Or if you felt I was disrespecting our host."
Hanzo simply gave him a curt nod. "You said what I was thinking. But there is the key difference. Thoughts are only dangerous if they are put into words. Otherwise, they simply stay in your head, where the only person they harm is you."
"I understand," Jeff said, and bowed again.
"Still," said Hanzo, his gray-eyed gaze fixed upon the heavy door that Krauser had just exited through. "It is disturbing that he is this eager for a fight. A man like that is either very strong, or very foolhardy. Or both. If it's both, then it is an extremely dangerous combination. I don't think I need to tell you to stay sharp."
"No, Shiranui-san," Jeff answered. "I won't let you down. My master didn't send me to help you because I was a slouch in my studies."
Young bravado, Hanzo thought with a smirk of amusement. Just like me and Yamada-Jubei in our army days. Then the smirk was gone, and he sat back down in the chair, placed his hands on his knees with palms opened and upturned, and breathed slowly as he focused his chi for the coming battle. After a moment, Jeff sat and started to do the same.
Which was how the servant found them a few minutes later, when he knocked on the door to escort them to the Great Hall. Silently, the two warriors followed the man, neither one of them knowing what to expect, but trying to be ready for anything. This time, they passed no servants, or anyone else, on their walk to the Great Hall. When they arrived, they soon learned why.
The servant grasped the heavy brass rings on the large oak doors leading into the hall, and slowly pushed them open. Jeffrey Bogard and Hanzo Shiranui entered the vast room to find many of the serving staff in the castle assembled there, lining the wall to their left. The stones beneath their feet were covered by a very old-looking yet elegant carpet, which stretched across the room's center, from one side to another. At the far end opposite Hanzo and Jeff was a rather large, gothic-looking baroque organ whose workings took up most of the entire wall.
Standing in front of the organ was their opponent, Rudolph Krauser. He unclasped his black cloak and handed it to the dark-haired teenage boy from the courtyard, who stood just behind and to Rudolph's left. The boy accepted the cloak, and stepped back with a bow of his head, moving to stand along the wall to their right, next to the butler, Sebastian, and the purple-haired boy who Jeff and Hanzo remembered was Rudolph's son. Sebastian remained at attention, his expression suggesting this was all routine, but the eyes of both boys shone with excitement, as if this were rare entertainment for them.
"Now, then," Rudolph called across the expanse of the room to them. "You know why we are here."
"Indeed," Hanzo answered, not as loud as Rudolph, but the natural acoustics in the stone walls and arched ceiling of the Great Hall carried his voice well. "To restore my family's honor, and preserve the birthrights of my child and grandchild. If Jeffrey-san and I defeat you, you will tell us what we want to know."
Rudolph gave them both a curt nod, and assumed a fighting stance. "You will not win, but I agree to those terms. And when I win, you will both die. As I've tried to teach my son: one should always be prepared to finish something, even if someone else starts it."
Hanzo nodded, and after removing his haori, leaving him dressed only in his tunic and hakama, assumed a fighting stance of his own. "I have fought men to the death before, Jeffrey-san," he told the American martial artist. "I understand that Tung asked you to assist me, but this is still a family matter for me. You do not have to sacrifice your life for a cause that is not truly yours."
Jeff Bogard shrugged off his jacket and also took up a stance. "Like he said, we're warriors. I won't just stand by and watch when I have the ability to do something."
Hanzo gave him a nod, then turned his attention back to their opponent. For a moment, the silence throughout the Great Hall was deafening. Then it was shattered by Rudolph Krauser's shout: "BEGIN!"
To be continued...
ADDITIONAL NOTES:
The prologue of this story, as you might have known, takes place not long after the end of the "Fatal Fury 2" anime. I chose August 1st, 1993 as the date because according to my research, the "Fatal Fury 2" OVA first aired on TV in Japan in July 1993.
Speaking of 1993, check out the lyrics to the Cranberries song "Linger" if you get a chance. It was released as a single in February 1993, and I like to think it's on the list of songs Mai would sing when she's in a good mood and also thinking about Andy. And she knows the words to the song because it's a head-canon of mine that when Mai was growing up, she learned to speak English on her own, in her free time, hoping it would impress Andy.
As you may have guessed, the ornamental hairpin being worn by Mai's grandmother is the exact same one we see Mai wear in the Fatal Fury and KoF series. I decided it was made of whalebone because in my other stories, I've hinted that Mai's grandmother grew up in a fishing village somewhere on Japan's east coast.
From what I've read, there is no Stroheim, Germany. But South Town doesn't exist, either, and fictional universes make up fake cities and towns all the time. As the FF2 OVA never said where in Germany it was, I placed Stroheim's location on the coast of the North Sea, because when Mai and Andy fight Laurence Blood in the OVA, they appear to be close to a large body of water. And the closest airport to the North Sea coast is the one in Hamburg, which is why that's where the fates were kind enough to let Hanzo and Jeff land.
And for those reading who are too young to remember the Cold War, Germany was divided until 1989, hence my reason for describing Hanzo and Jeff's destination as "West Germany." And also it was back before the Euro, hence their reason for carrying Deustchmarks.
As always, feel free to post a review. Hopefully, the next chapter won't take TOO long. But I'm not good at writing fight scenes, and I want the fight between Jeff, Hanzo, and Rudolph to be the best fight scene I've ever written. So I'll post it when I'm happy with it.