Doppleganger

King of Fighters, Kyo Kusanagi, and Iori Yagami belong to SNK

Comments: Collab between Nanomemes and RinoaDestiny. Nanomemes' Team Murder's Kyo and RinoaDestiny's Team Chill's Iori. We wrote this together since we always wanted our boys to meet, since they are very different. Have fun!

It was a cool evening. The sun had begun its descent over the horizon. The moon had emerged faintly in the east. A slight breeze wafted through the streets and caused the stream of smoke from his cigarette to disappear momentarily, before it flickered back into existence.

It had been a long day for him. He had left for band practice this morning, and, because they were preparing for a tour, rehearsed all day. It was nearly seven in the evening when he left the rehearsal site. His commute today was particularly long, and Iori was tired.

He was quite eager to shower, whip up something to eat, and perhaps flop into bed with a good book before he got some shut-eye.

Stir fry sounds nice right about now…

Iori sighed, exhaled, and climbed the stairs to his apartment door. He fished his keys from his pocket, but when he went to unlock the door… it creaked open before he even turned the lock.

...Unlocked? That's… not good.

Iori never forgot to lock his door. He was too careful for that. Had somebody robbed his house?

He silently opened the door and carefully stepped in. The corridor was dark, but the lights to his living room were on. Iori supported himself against the wall and pulled off his shoes as quickly and quietly as he could before padding down the hallway. He pressed himself against the wall, his guitar pinned against his shoulder blades, and listened.

He heard humming and the clank of… tools? It didn't seem like the person in question was in any sort of rush as he… did whatever he was doing in Iori's living room. The voice was familiar… very familiar.

The red-haired man narrowed his eyes, then turned to peek in.

…

Kusanagi?

"Kusanagi?!"

It was undoubtedly him. He was humming to himself and uninstalling the TV from its wall-mount. He heard his name being called and turned around to look. He raised his hand in greeting, grinned and…his eyebrows did a little dance on his forehead. Iori had never seen anyone's eyebrows move so much in his life. He blinked.

"Oh, Hi Gammy."

Kyo nonchalantly took a sip from his beer, put it on the coffee table with a clank, then he turned back around and began pulling wires out of the walls.

Iori didn't speak. He simply stood there, mute as he sorted his thoughts.

Kyo Kusanagi was a constant in his life. He knew the man like the back of his hand. What he didn't expect was for him to be a sneak thief, stealing into other people's houses and taking their valuables. Especially TVs. Especially his TV.

Kyo didn't even have the key to his apartment, let alone access into the apartment complex. So how did he…

And what was it with that stupid nickname? Did he think he was being clever?

Perhaps he did. Kyo always did nurse aspirations of becoming some bona fide poet. Maybe if he put some effort into it. Other than making bad nicknames at other people's expense.

"Kyo, just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Besides the obvious, which was uninstalling his TV and apparently making off with it. Would have, if he hadn't come home when he did. If it wasn't for the fact he had some forbearance for his rival, Iori probably would've asked him to leave already.

"What does it look like? Man, you replaced this one fast!"

Replaced? He hadn't replaced anything. He'd gotten this two years ago after his last one stopped working due to some freak electrical outage that shorted the entire apartment complex. Had to stop by a hotel and get a room, since nothing in his place worked. Came back the next day, scrapped the old one, and found this one - which Kyo was happily removing - for sale in some electronics shop in Dotonbori.

"Kusanagi, how'd you get into the apartment?"

Kyo frowned. He put his tools down and regarded him for a moment.

"What do you mean, 'how'? Same as always. Did you hit your head or something? You ok, buddy?"

Kyo turned around and continued working on the TV.

"I mean… It's a bit weird you're not screaming and bitching."

Iori raised an eyebrow. Those around him regarded him as a rather quiet individual. He, for obvious reasons, didn't want to be known as notorious, loud, obnoxious, or just a general pain-in-the-ass. He saved that for King of Fighters, since everyone besides Kyo pissed him off at the tournaments. Kyo, for that matter, was acting very strange tonight. The Kyo he knew never gave him a stupid nickname, made off with TVs, or acted like he didn't even know him (Kyo knew he wasn't the screaming type, for one.).

"Whatever." He reached for the strap of his guitar case, removed it from his back, and carefully placed the case against the wall so that it had support and didn't tip. "It's been a long day, I'm hungry, and there's a novel to finish. Do whatever you want to. Just leave me alone and we're good."

He heard a quiet, 'what the hell?' as he turned on his heel and made for the tiny kitchen, shrugging off his red leather coat in the meantime, and slinging both that and his house key on the couch. If Kyo wanted to take his TV, okay. Dotonbori always had sales going on and he had money. It wasn't as if a brand-new flat-screen TV would take much out of his account anyway. He wasn't that hard-up and he hadn't been hard-up since joining a band and making bank out of that.

Iori knew when to pick his battles. This wasn't one of them. Besides, he was hungry. And tired. He'd left off on a cliffhanger in the latest fantasy novel he was reading - of course based on Japanese mythology, which he liked - and he wanted to continue. After eating. After taking a nice hot long shower.

He opened the fridge, saw the empty spots where his beer had been - did Kusanagi drink two already? - and then moved onto the eggs, the scallions, the pork cutlets he prepared the day before, and the rice he'd saved for tonight. While he didn't eat at home too often, he did stock his fridge just in case. In case of late night rehearsals and catching the night trains (trying not to miss the last one, since he didn't like staying in capsule hotels), which didn't leave him much time to dine outside. Pulling the ingredients from the fridge, he placed them on the counter, got out the steel wok and spatula, rolled back his sleeves and started cooking.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he decided to prepare a bit extra. Just in case. He didn't bother to ask himself why.

Behind him, Kyo stuck his head into the room and spoke up. He sounded wary, nothing like the carefree, almost provocative nonchalance he was wearing earlier while he was dismantling furniture. Iori sighed and turned to look. This Kyo seemed more expressive than usual. There might as well be question marks written all over his face.

"What is it, Kusanagi?"

"Did you remodel your house?"

"What?"

"I swore the bathroom was here! And where the hell is my backpack! I left it right there!"

"..."

Kyo looked about wildly then disappeared back into the hallway. Iori heard the sounds of all of his doors being opened and shut with increasing agitation. He wondered at that. It wasn't as if his apartment was big. The bathroom was just off to the side, a little ways off the kitchen and before his bedroom. Kusanagi was treating it as if he was searching for rare treasure, which was odd. Then again, Kyo had never been in his place before, but it wasn't as if residential layouts in Japan were too dissimilar. He would've found some humor in that, if he wasn't busy with his stir-fry and fried cutlets.

"Don't know anything about your backpack!" He called out, as he put a touch of soy sauce onto the stir-fried rice, frowned, and then added a splash of mirin before continuing.

A moment later, Kyo responded with a muffled 'What the fuck!'. It sounded like he had slammed his way to the front door and was screaming at the street.

Iori breathed through his nose. The last thing he needed was a headache. This was why he preferred living alone without roommates. Peace and quiet, all to himself with just his music and his books. When Mature and Vice materialized (that was the only word he could use for their constant returns) before the tournaments, the two women turned his quiet abode into hell. Best way to describe it.

Hellcats, the both of them.

He finished the stir-fry, plated it, and checked on the cutlets. Almost done as well. He flipped them one more time - he liked them crispy - and regretted the fact that he missed out on the curry. It would also provide a bit more food, since apparently, dinner might be for two.

"What the fuck! What the fuck!"

Iori heard footfalls fly down the hallway, and once again, Kyo was attached to the kitchen's door frame and looking at him. Now, instead of question marks, this time he had 'PANIC' written in big, bold letters on his forehead. Iori sighed. Again. "What is it now, Kusanagi?" Even as he asked that, he opened up the drawer beneath the counter, grabbed two pairs of chopsticks and two rice bowls. Might as well. He had a feeling Kyo was staying and he was rarely wrong when it came to his instincts even for mundane stuff like this.

"What do you mean, 'What is it now?'" Iori shut his eyes and ignored the bad mimic of his voice. "What the fuck is happening! I'm not supposed to be here! Why the fuck am I in Japan?!"

"Weren't you always in Japan, Kyo? You live here, don't you?"

"What? Yes, but-"

Kyo seemed to be growing increasingly anxious. He had pinned his back against the kitchen door frame and was glancing around as if expecting the walls to attack him. He didn't respond to the question, and just murmured to himself. He was breathing hard. His face was red, and he looked just about ready to have a panic attack.

Iori put the stuff for dinner aside, studied Kyo, and allowed himself a third sigh. If Kyo smoked, he would've offered him a cigarette, but Kyo didn't. He did feel the onset of a headache behind his eyes. Just what he needed. Fishing a cigarette out from his shirt pocket, he lit it and partook of its particular flavor. It calmed him down, allowed him some space to think, and also soothed the throb starting in his skull.

He tended to self-medicate but he didn't want aspirin right now.

But it looked like Kyo might need one.

He looked over at Kyo, who was staring intently at the wall and evidently trying to control his breathing. He seemed to be whispering encouragements to himself. After a long moment, he let go of the door frame and slowly slid down to sit on the tile floor. He placed both palms against his forehead and was quiet.

Iori decided this was as a good a time as any to extend a dinner invite. Which was odd, not that he should care. Hadn't he only been stalking Kyo since 1995? Why would this seem out of place? Hell, his rival shouldn't be surprised (well, maybe). He approached him carefully, aware that Kyo reminded him of a skittish animal. If he wasn't wary, Kusanagi might bite, too.

He snorted. That was some genuine irony coming from him.

"So...you staying for dinner?"

Kyo snapped his head up at the noise. His expression was wild and his posture fell into defensive. He seemed to take a moment to orient himself before craning his neck to fix Iori with a glare. There was something deranged in that look. Something that might be dangerous.

Iori had never seen that kind of expression in Kyo's face before. Certainly never in his eyes. Even during the entire thing with NESTS, he'd seen Kusanagi more pissed than murderous. This was angling towards the latter, which cued off that immediate red flag that put him on alert. He tried not to show obvious signs of such, because the minute he went into stance, Kusanagi would see him as the aggressor - if he wasn't already - and Iori didn't want a fight on his hands.

He was tired. He was hungry. He wanted to relax and sleep. He didn't want to fight - not right now.

Kyo didn't move from his place on the floor. He spoke through bared teeth.

"Who the hell are you?"

Iori replied smoothly, keeping his tone even and his voice low. He had to be extremely cautious here. If he phrased this wrong, it might come off as condescending and with how Kyo looked right now, the other man might actually spring off the floor and try to rip his throat out.

"A very tired Iori Yagami who's had a hell of day, Kyo. You hungry? I made enough for two. You're welcome to stay."

Kyo glared at him a moment longer, then sighed and averted his gaze. He took some time to consult with himself before climbing to his feet. He studied Iori for a wary moment, then seemed to decide that, although he was strange, he wasn't dangerous.

The violence had faded out of his voice, but he was still flustered.

"… Look. I-... I think I'm lost… so… I'd appreciate that."

Iori extinguished his cigarette in the sink, threw the stub into the wastebasket, and picked up the rice bowls and chopsticks. He brought them to the table in the small living room, went back for the food, and placed them down without much noise. It smelled great and he was hungry. Ravenous, in fact. He looked for Kyo, saw where he was and relaxed.

Kyo had gone to find his beer, and came back with Iori's bottle of aspirin instead. Sitting down across from him, he began popping them like candies. Iori suppressed the urge to grimace seeing that. Did Kyo want ulcers or an accidental poisoning? Shoveling some fried rice into his bowl, he picked up his chopsticks.

"Help yourself, Kyo." Hopefully that was more subtle than "Lay off the aspirin, it's gonna kill you."

Kyo put the bottle down. Seemed calmer. So long as he didn't puke up his dinner later, Iori was fine. He still wanted to take his shower, read his book, and sleep. Was Kyo going to stay the night as well? Perhaps that wasn't something he should mention or inquire about.

"Oh. Pork cutlets."

"I know you like fish, but…"

"Nah. This is fine."