I was the best in my day.
I defeated every fighter who was brave enough to challenge me as well as any young upstart foolish enough to try to take me on. The most honorable fighters in the world bowed before me, bathing me in adulation and I sat on seats of high honor in every household that I entered. Such adoration I was at first unused to but, unfortunately, became accustomed to. It was not for my own honor that I fought, but for the honor of my father.
When he was found dead at the hands of the worst kind of criminal, my mission in life changed in an instant. As I stood over Papa's corpse, I took the ring off of his cold finger and made an oath that he would be avenged. I was relentless in my pursuit of vengeance and family honor. My fight was not swift, nor was it easy, but I knew that I could not rest...that my father could not rest...until Bison was dead. When the moment eventually came, when I held up his dying head in my fist, it wasn't relief or joy that I felt, but peace. With one final kick to Bison's neck, I severed his connections with this world and sent him on to the next.
That night, I put Papa's ring in the family temple and prayed for his spirit to rest. Just as I was about to leave, a breeze whipped though the entry way, bringing in petals from the trees outside and dropping them like rain on me and the souls of my ancestors. A smile spread across my face and I left lighter than when I entered – I knew my fight was over and I would have peace for the the rest of my days.
That was many years ago, and now I too am about to join the world of the dead. I have no fear about what is ahead of me. I know that the eager spirits of my warrior ancestors will be waiting for me. If I listen closely, I can almost hear them now. I humbly ask for a few moments more and, using every last bit of strength in my body, I go to the window and look out one last time to see what I'd created.
Below my bedroom I see my children and grandchildren leading lessons on the ancient ways of fighting. After that day in the temple, I was blessed to be able to start a school and a family and have them both grow by leaps and bounds. Students from across the world came to learn under me and my children, not solely because on my fame, but because we had a two pronged system of education: skill and honor. I have faith that both will continue to be taught here long after I am gone.
Looking down, I cry for the first time in years. Silent tears of joy pour down my face as I hear the voices of the children below me fade and the calls of my ancestors increase. Going back to my bed, I lay down on top of the covers, it's a little chilly, but I won't be cold much longer. In the very last moments of my life, I again recognize that none of this would have been possible without the death of my father and, just as I am about to offer up a prayer of thanks for his sacrifice, I realize that I can see him more clearly than I have in the last 60 years.
"Papa..."
.
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A/N: Chun-Li will always have a special place in my heart. She's the first chick in video games (that I remember at least) able to kick a massive amount of butt in a short amount of time. One of the best days of my childhood was when I finally beat my older cousin at Street Fighter II after months and months of losing to him. I had been practicing with her character for ages and knew her moves inside and out. When I whipped him, oh man, it was glorious. I never played with any other Street Fighter character after that day. Disclaimer: I do not own Street Fighter, nor Chun-Li.