Well, I never thought I'd be writing for Street Fighter, but here this is! I FINALLY got my hands on a copy of Street Fighter IV, and I'm loving every second of it! Anyway, I thought it'd be nice to write a KenxEliza, since you don't see too many of them. That said, I don't normally write third person, so I'm not too sure about the quality of this one. Reviews are appreciated (as always). Enjoy!
Rules
Ken Masters was a name many feared. He was the US National Champion. He was heir to the Masters conglomerate, one of (if not the) richest companies in the world. He had fought off so many challengers over the years that he couldn't even count that high. And at the moment, he was also very, very nervous.
Closing his eyes, he took deep breaths as he attempted to put together an outfit that didn't make him look like a martial artist. Guile, at his request, had lent him a pair of slacks and a good, white dress shirt, complete with a tie and belt, but it simply didn't feel right. Then again, he thought as he tightened the leather around his waist with a sigh, the restaurant had specifically advertised "formal attire required", so if he was going to impress Eliza, it would be necessary.
He instantly regretted putting on a jacket as he stepped outside. The city night air was hot and humid, smelling of exhaust and smoke and whatnot. It was a wonder why the Masters Headquarters were located here of all places, considering how uptight his father was about cleanliness and discipline and such, he thought as he hailed a taxi and climbed in, shutting the door behind him with a loud bang. The car sped off as Ken told the cabbie his destination, leaving him to sit back and fiddle with his tie.
He put his hands in his pockets as he slouched back, deftly fingering the black velvet box he carried, and by extension, the silver ring resting inside of it. Cars and buses and people whizzed past the window as he stared outside, though he barely registered a thing, his thoughts instead focusing on Eliza, his girlfriend for as long as he could remember. She was smart, funny, beautiful, kind… Oftentimes he seriously wondered what a girl like her was doing with someone like him. Continuing that train of thought, while evaluating all factors, he arrived at the conclusion that there was no way she would accept his proposal in any way, shape, or form, which certainly didn't help his nerves. By the time they pulled up to the restaurant, Ken's nails had practically been chewed clean through, and his crestfallen face was covered in sweat.
The large, oaken double-doors burst open as Ken strode through them, trying and pretty much failing to appear confident. The Golden Dragon, one of the most prestigious restaurants in the country, certainly looked the part. Pristine glass covered the walls, red velvet covered the floor, and literally everything sparkled clean. He looked around the lowered floor among the candlelight and softly chatting diners and weaving about waiters for any sign of Eliza, of which there was none. He breathed a sigh of relief, then turned around and nearly walked face-first into a white gi and a plethora of muscles.
"Whoa, Ken!" Ryu said, grinning down at him. "Slow down. You're so nervous, I don't know what I'm going to do with you…"
Ken nearly tackled him into the adjoining hall to get him out of the way. "What the hell are you doing?! Look, I know you mean well, and I appreciate it, but if you don't change into 'formal attire,' like it says right outside on the door, we're going to be thrown out of here even faster than you can pull off a hadouken!"
Out of the dim light, a small girl clad in a Japanese school uniform popped up from behind Ryu, spinning around a few clothes hooks in a circle about her. "Aw, don't worry, Ken-san," Sakura grinned, puffing herself up. "Ryu-san's kinda forgetful, since he's so concentrated on fighting all the time, but that's where I come in, and I'm here to ensure that everything goes your way tonight!"
Ken groaned under his breath, letting out a slight moan as he shook his head. "Sakura-chan… That's exactly what I'm afraid of…" She blinked, stepped back in thought, then stuck out her tongue sheepishly. "Ah well… You're here anyway, so I guess I can't do anything about it. Just… Please don't interfere, or do anything stupid tonight, you know how important it is…"
Her lips straightening out into a flat line, Sakura stood up as straight as she could and saluted. "Roger! No stupid tricks or gags tonight, sir!" She kicked Ryu in the shins behind her, so he did the same, albeit trying to conceal the pain he was feeling. "Just lemme give you some advice real quick," Sakura said quickly, taking out a purple notepad from her pocket and scribbling some lines on it as she spoke. "Rule one to a successful date: you gotta know when to talk! Never interrupt her, always keep your own talking to a minimum, and never, under any circumstances, start talking again in those silent, romantic moments when you're staring into each other's eyes! That's when you pull the ring out!"
Shaking his hands, Ken grinned nervously. "Alright, know when to talk, let her do it, I got it. Now, Eliza's going to be here any minute now, so could you and Ryu please-"
"Rule two: don't fiddle with your tie, like you're doing right now!" Ken looked down. Indeed, he had been subconsciously messing with the tightness. "It makes you seem nervous, and women like confidence in a guy! So right now, make it loose enough for comfort, but tight enough for appearance, and leave it alone for the rest of the night!"
Desperation noticeably seeping into his voice, Ken attempted to interrupt her as he looked around agitatedly for Eliza. "Okay, okay, don't mess with my tie! Now would you please-"
Sakura waved her index finger to silence him, closing her eyes, the better to continue reciting rules. "Three: choose what you order carefully! We know you love spaghetti, but it's just too darn messy and loud to make a good impression in this sort of setting! And by all means, nothing that would cause bad breath either. On that note, don't mind anything she orders, just suck it up and bear it like a man! Women appreciate men who appreciate them!"
Hanging his head in resignation, Ken groaned once again.
Sakura was about to go on, but at hearing the door creak behind her, tore off the paper and gave it to the blonde man. "That sounds like her, you better get going. Me and Ryu-" she pinched his cheek and pulled him closer- "will get a table on the second floor to monitor your progress. The complete list of rules is on this paper, and if all else fails, my cell phone number is, too. Good luck!" She winked and dragged Ryu off to the bathrooms to change so as to get a table, the latter protesting loudly in pain.
Ken sighed, shaking his head, and turned around to face Eliza. She was wearing a white shawl around her shoulders and an olive green dress that hugged her shapely figure down to her thighs. Her heels made clacking noises against the shiny linoleum floor with each step she took closer to him. "Good evening," she chirped, smiling and cocking her head to the side.
"Y-Yeah…" Ken replied, blushing. Suddenly forgetting everything he knew about her in his nervousness, he half-drew the slip of paper from his pocket and nonchalantly peered down at its contents. "Uh… Shall we go to our seats?" he said with an exaggerated flourish of his hand, mustering up the most "gentlemanly voice" (as rule thirty-eight advised him to assume) he could.
She looked at him quizzically, stifling a giggle with her hand. "Okay…?" Holding her hand in his, she allowed herself to be taken to the table. Ken, again consulting the rules, pulled back her chair and seated her before he himself sat down. The Golden Dragon, despite having a name that sounded distinctly like a Chinese-American restaurant, served food from all over the world, so when the waiter arrived shortly after they did, Ken had to practically bite off his tongue to resist ordering anything that disagreed with Sakura's guidelines.
While Eliza ordered shrimp florentine, Ken flipped desperately through the menu for something that wouldn't cause him to spend an hour locked up in the bathroom afterwards and still adhered to rules 3a-3g. Soup made too much noise. Fish smelled. Steak would cause his arms to move around. Pasta was too messy. Salad would get dressing all over his face. Stuffed Mushrooms were all of the above.
Sighing, he tossed the menu back on the table, muttering "screw it…" under his breath, and falling back to his beloved spaghetti. The waiter finished jotting down their orders on his notepad, stepped back and bowed, and left for the kitchens, leaving Ken and Eliza alone, with the exception of their plate of complimentary cream puffs.
Remembering rule one as he took a bite of his pastry, Ken attempted to start a conversation. "So, Eliza, how's your day been?" He leaned back for comfort, but adhering to rule twenty, he was careful not to put his elbows up and rest his head or anything like that.
Doing the same with her puff, she looked up in thought, putting her index finger to her chin. "Not too bad, actually. My boss was in a bad mood today, and traffic was really bad this afternoon, but I get to spend some time with you, so I'm a lot happier now."
Blushing, Ken turned away, but his expression quickly turned from embarrassment and happiness to exasperation and disdain as he looked up to the second floor.
Seated at a rather large, circular table designed for groups were a grinning, tuxedo-clad Ryu (something which Ken never thought he'd see) and Sakura in a white silk dress, silently cheering him on. Now, that wouldn't be so bad, but just joining them was the entire entourage of his "friends". Chun-Li, Guile, Cammy, and yes, somehow, Dhalsim. All (well, except for Dhalsim, whose face was stuck on permanent meditation) were smiling at him and giving him some form of encouragement. Groaning, though he tried to hide it, he turned back to his date.
Out of nowhere, the waiter reappeared with a bow and set down his serving platter, uncapping our food and placing it in front of us. "Will there be grated parmesan for either of you?" he asked, producing a metallic can.
"Yes, please," Eliza said with a smile. The man reached over and, with the touch of a master, spun the crank so quickly Ken swore he saw sparks flying about.
The man turned to Ken and raised an eyebrow while holding up the can (which still appeared to be smoking), silently asking if he would like the same, though Ken shook his head. "Very good, sir," the waiter said with yet another bow, and once again he disappeared as quickly as he had come.
Initiating rules 42a-42d, he tried to eat much more carefully than he would have normally. He spun the noodles around his fork, chewed slowly, dabbed at his mouth with his napkin often, and so on, though it was hard to do, considering his thoughts were focused on the woman in front of him. He went so much out of his way to eat politely that his antics caused Eliza to laugh out loud. "Ken, would you mind telling me why you've been acting so odd tonight?" she asked, still laughing.
He nearly choked on his food, the question caught him off-guard so. Still trying to act polite, he resisted the burning urge to beat at his upper chest, instead swallowing as hard as he could, and softening his breath intake as much as possible. "Ahem!" Regaining his breath, he straightened himself up, then promptly slouched sheepishly. "You knew…?" he smiled meekly.
She frowned, crossing her arms. "Of course I did. What did you expect? And to be frank, I'm quite angry that you would expect that I wouldn't know. What does our relationship mean to you?"
He scratched the back of his head. "Sorry… It's just… I thought that I'd be able to make you happier this way, since, you know, I'm such…"
"A fool, Ken Masters. A fool. Because the Ken Masters I love is a kind, funny, and wonderful man, not some jumped-up suit that follows rules and regulations and acts all polite. Now will the Ken Masters I love please show himself?"
"Right here," Ken said softly, raising both his hand and his eyebrow. "Sorry about that." With the other arm, he stuck his hand in his pocket and shredded the paper to bits. He glanced back up: Cammy was holding up some sot of fancy Delta Red microphone up, and the whole group (again, except for Dhalsim, who seemed to be using some sort of Yoga technique to the same effect) was leaned in and cheering, giving him thumbs up, and mouthing what appeared to be something along the lines of 'go for it'.
"And for the record, I love you, too."
Smiling, but not saying a word, they stared into each other's eyes, Ken trying his hardest to ignore what was most definitely Sakura's squealing. Instead, he got up, much to his girlfriend's confusion, and dropped to one knee. He felt as if the eyes of the entire restaurant were upon him, but that didn't matter to him. At least at the moment. "And so, Eliza, will you marry me?" he said, producing the box from his pocket and opening it with a swift pop.
Taking the silver ring from the box shakily, Eliza held it up to the light, where it sparkled brightly, reflecting her tears of joy. "Of course I will," she said, embracing him. She allowed him to slide the ring onto her finger as the whole restaurant burst into polite applause. With the exception of the second floor, of course, which was full-on cheering and hooting.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ken noticed Cammy scribbling something on another piece of Sakura's notebook, which she tore off and tossed onto their table. He picked it up and unfolded it, reading it aloud. "We'll all be coming over to your place in an hour's time, after we go home and change and such, so you better get a party ready, and fast. –Cammy"
He looked up at Eliza with a wry smile. "Well, I guess that's our order to get going, huh?"
She nodded, already getting up and putting on her shawl. Ken did the same, excepting the shawl, instead putting on his coat with a spin. As he reached for his wallet, Eliza stepped up and hugged him so tightly he thought his ribs would be crushed. "Thank you, Ken," she whispered in his ear.
Patting her lightly on the back, he smiled down at her. "No problem, love. Besides, I'm the one who should be thanking you." After what seemed like an eternity, she let him go, and he took quiet, hearty gulps of air. Regaining his composure, he reached inside his wallet, drew out a crisp fifty dollar bill with a crackle, and tossed it on the table and wrapped his arm around his fiancé's waist, escorting her out.
As they walked outside into the warm night, she looked up at him questioningly. "The bill was only for twenty-nine dollars. Why the fifty?"
He grinned, both to her and himself. "Ah, it's nothing. Just rule seventy-one."
