The Final Round

by Idontneedthegunjohn

Sagat gets the unexpected chance to avenge an old vendetta...

The Final Round

By Bennets Chain Mail

The air was thick with aromatic smoke and the smell of alcohol. Characters from all walks of life, from touts hoping to snatch a few tickets to old, monacled rich westerners went about their business in anticipation of the forthcoming event. Girls in kimono's and full geisha make-up tottered from table to table with their ornamental trays peddling refreshments and commodities of a decidedly more illegal nature to the more demanding customers.

In the centre of the dark, dingy modestly sized arena was a four cornered ring. White canvas punctuated by red posts and ropes whilst a black walkway led away from the ring, through the crowd in to the unknown of the backstage area where fighters from around the globe prepared themselves for battle. Large spotlights above the ring illuminated it so that it dominated the room.

On a table a few rows back from the ring sat a large, indomitable but lonely figure. He wasn't sat in the shadows but light seemed unable to permeate the intense aura around him. One of the waitresses, usually unbothered by the rough and sometimes forceful personalities that inhabited the place, approached uneasily.

'Would you like a drink, sir?' She ventured tentatively.

Silence washed over her like creeping cold breeze before his slow, deep but authoritive voice filled her ears.

'Whiskey. Rocks.'

She didn't mind no please or thank you. She just wanted to fulfill her order and get out of there. She obliged, turned and dared not look back. She didn't return to the table for the rest of the night.

The figure watched the waitress retreat, slightly amused, then turned his attention to his drink. His massive hand enveloped the glass so that it looked like a childrens toy as he swished the liquid around a bit, savouring the clinking of the ice. He took a sip and set it down gently on the table then turned his attention to the room in general, taking in the sights, smells and sounds. It was all so familiar, but it had taken him a while to get used to being on the other side of the ring, watching in.

His attire, a dark grey suit with white tie-less shirt didn't do him justice and wasn't fooling anyone. The way his biceps stretched the sleeves and his shoulders hung the jacket awkwardly either meant he had a lousy tailor, or he wasn't someone to be messed with. Anyone just had to look at his face to see the story of a thousand battles, each with their own glorious triumph or bitter defeat. The most obvious of these was a black eyepatch over his right eye. The other good eye icily stared out from the deep socket underneath a huge determined brow blighted by scars and pits. His massive hand wiped the sweat from his bald head then ran along his deeply defined jaw, grating against rough stubble.

There was no disguising his nature or prowess and as a result, most people left him alone even here in his home town where he was a major celebrity. People respected or feared him too much to bother him. Either was acceptable in his view.

He took another sip from the glass of whiskey and followed it up with a large drag on an exotic cigar of unknown origin. He exhaled, shooting smokey circles in to the air and watched as they slowly dissipated in to nothing. It was nearly time for the first fight and he waited patiently as the announcer fiddled about with his microphone as the refereee whisered in to his ear.

Another figure approached the table. This one nearly as an impressive figure himself. Clad in muscle and deeply tanned, his loose fitting shirt flashed glimpses of a tattoo on his chest which reappeared on his uncovered arm. His long brown hair was tied in to one big plait which he flung back as he took a chair, reversed it and then sat straddled, facing the other man. Unlike him, the light seemed to actively follow this handsome devil.

'Hello Sagat. It's been a long time.' He said in a smooth, silky voice.

Sagat sat there for a moment regarding his new companion with a mixture of quiet surprise and suspicion. He moved his hands down to the table and casually shifted his posture so that he was ready to strike, if he needed.

'Not pleased to see me?' Ventured the newcomer. 'Relax. I'm alone here just like you. We're just two old dogs looking for some...entertainment.'

Sagat looked him up and down, then glanced quickly around the room to see if there were any lackies in the wings. His search proved fruitless and he returned his attention to him.

'Vega. It has indeed been a long time. Forgive me for being suspicious, but the last time we parted company it was not in the best of circumstance.' Sagat's voice rumbled, like a glacier eroding a mountain.

'I understand. Please, let us talk not as competitors but as friends. Proud warriors each with their own rich history and success.' Vega smirked. There was little he enjoyed more than speaking about himself, except maybe murder.

Sagat nodded understandingly and relaxed. His clenched fist unravelled and turned its attention back to the glass of scotch.

'So, what brings you to Thailand? And this place in particular?'

'I've had my fair share of victories in this place. Thought i'd re-live some past glories, oh and see how an old friend was doing too.' Vega responded.

'I'm touched by your concern.'

Sagat took another breath on his cigar and cooly blew it in to Vega's face. Vega stifled a cough and blinked a few times to clear his eyes.

'So, you still working for Shadaloo?' Enquired Sagat.

'Not for a long time. After Bison was killed the organisation kind of carried on and I did a few hits for them, but it got boring. Without Bison they just turned in to a bunch of thugs. Not my scene at all. So I returned to Spain and carried on living the life of an aristrocrat, with my own personal benefits of course. What about you. You ever go back?' Vega ventured.

'No.' Sagat snapped. 'I regret the whole thing. Bison may have made me a very rich man, but he made me a very corrupt one too. He promised me the greatest matchup of my life but betrayed me. I learned my lesson. I live and fight for honour now, not profit. If Bison hadn't been killed I would gladly have taken him out myself.' Sagat replied. He awaited a retort from Vega, but it didn't come.

'Honour is important.' Vega agreed. 'It's of one of the reasons i'm here tonight.'

Sagat looked at Vega wearily, then laughed.

'You? Honour?'

His massive frame shook and seemed to unnerve people sitting nearby. Vega smiled with him and let out a delicate chuckle.

'Yes. Honour. But not mine, I have nothing to prove or redeem myself for. I'm talking about YOUR honour.' Vega said sternly.

Sagat stopped laughing. Gulped down the rest of his whiskey then slammed down his glass on the table, smashing it. The glass crunched in his tightening fist as he narrowed his eyes at Vega.

'You have the nerve to come to me, in my home town and disrespect me? Explain yourself! And be very careful what you say, I may have been retired for a few years but I can still crush you singlehandedly.'

Vega smiled a contented smile, he had gotten his intended reaction.

'Forgive me, I meant no disrespect and I have no doubt you are still the true Emperor of Muay Thai in everyone's eyes. But you have unfinished business from your past. Unfinished business that is sitting not far from here, drinking green tea.'

Sagats eyes opened wide. Could it be? Could his arch nemesis and one outstanding blip on his career, his legacy be sat in this very arena? His considerable chest tightened and a dull aching began in his scar, THE scar. The announcer interrupted his train of thought as he introduced the two fighters for the evening. They were both unremarkable and insignificant compared to these two warriors, sat opposite each other waiting for the other to make the next move.

'Where is he?' Sagat demanded, but in a slow, deliberate, almost gentle way.

Vega grinned.

'Now this is where it gets interesting. I have in my pocket here, an assassination instruction from an un-named employer. Guess who's name is on the paper?'

'He is mine. You hear me? You so much as make a move on him and you will be destroyed. You underestimate the influence I have around here. One word from me and every gun toting low life, policeman and criminal will be baying for your blood. You'll never make it out of this town alive.' Sagat made clear through grinding teeth.

He cleared his hand of the broken glass and wrapped the cuts with a peice of tablecloth that he tore from the table. In the ring, the two fighters made their way in and were squaring up to each other, the announcer droned on in the background. Vega observed the infuriated Sagat for a moment before speaking.

'I have no intention of getting my hands dirty or my face bruised in this one. This little peice of paper is advantageous to both of us.'

'How?' Sagat demanded.

'You see, I have a job to do but not the means to do it. I only like to use my trusty claw and i'll freely admit to having been defeated by him before. Plus he has an old friend with him.'

'Masters?' Enquired Sagat.

'You're still as sharp as your fighting technique.' Chuckled Vega.

'It will be too messy for me to attempt an assassination in this crowded place. So I thought a match would be an appropriate solution. Just think, you in your home town, come out of retirement for one night only against your greatest adversary. You deliver the last beating of his lifetime, he tragically dies in the ring, you get your pride and place in history and I get my money and reputation without getting Masters involved. You, have the drive, determination and need to perform this action. This is a mutually benefitial situation.' Vega beamed, pleased with his plan.

Sagat took in a deep breath and closed his eyes.

'You're forgetting one thing Vega.' Ventured Sagat.

'What's that? There is no problem as far as I can see.'

Sagat looked at Vega square in the eye.

'I have no interest in killing him or seeing him come to any harm beyond the punishment that is necessary to defeat him. I only want to prove to myself, my country and the world that I am the greatest fighter bar none. I've killed before in rage and naivity and took an oath to never do it again. You kill someone, you kill a part of yourself. You are consumed with nothingness. I have no desire for that.'

Vega frowned, creasing his otherwise flawless face.

'I see. I know you are proud. I don't see any point in trying to convince you otherwise, I know it won't work. If that is your decision then so be it. I respect you enough to not follow through with the order.' Vega said in a meekly apologetic tone. 'Now I must report back and inform my employer of the bad news'.

Vega stood up and brushed himself down, before Sagat could interject and ask him he said;

'He is near the back behind you. You can't miss him, he's wearing his headband.'

Sagat was distracted by the bell sounding and the fighters rushing towards each other, when he looked back Vega was gone.

He sat there for a few minutes as the fighters tested each others nerves, ineffectually lashing out at each other. The crowd seemed already bored by this unimpressive show and Sagat's heart began to race. The need for competition and his desire to avenge himself boiled up inside, until he could take it no more. He drew himself up to his full 7'5" and headed for the ring, pushing away anyone unlucky enough to be in his path. The audience couldn't help but notice this behemoth of a man lurching toward the squared circle then climb and step over the top rope in one swift movement.

The referee would have normally interfered and tried to get the intruder out of the ring, but this was Sagat. Not even counting his immense physical presence, the referee called the bell on the two fighters out of pure respect. The two stopped dancing around each other and gawped at their new ring partner. A legend was in the ring and if he wanted to say something, they weren't going to argue. The crowd that had afforded him privacy and anonymity before hand now erupted in approval and anticipation.

The referee rushed up to Sagat and bowed before him presenting the microphone. Sagat snatched the microphone out of his hands, knocking the slight man to the floor to the cheers of all in attendance. All except two, who observed with a growing sense of trepidation.

Sagat outstretched his arms and turned, embracing the outpouring of admiration, then motioned for silence. They obeyed.

'Guards! Barricade the doors! There is a special guest here tonight, one that I have some unfinished business with.' Sagat growled.

Some armed men swiftly moved to the exits and stood rigid, stopping anyone from getting in or out.

'RYYYUUUU! I know you're in here! Come face me and prove what the world already knows, that I am the greatest warrior in the world!'

The room went deathly quiet in expectancy. No reply was forthcoming. The two fighters still in the ring took the opportunity to step out while all attention was fixed on Sagat.

'No one is leaving this place until you show your face and accept my challenge!' He roared, his amplified voice shaking tables and chairs throughout the arena.

Still nothing. Then, fading in to the foreground, two sets of soft, steady footsteps. Sagat squinted in to the distance, his good eye struggling to make much out in the darkness, until two figures came in to view. There they were. Ken and Ryu stood side by side. They definately looked much older than Sagat remembered but both were still in shape. He wondered to himself if they were as prolific as they had been. If he had his way, he would soon find out. They stared at each other for a few moments before Ryu spoke out softly.

'I have no wish to fight you Sagat. It's all in the past. We've all proven ourselves in our own ways and to do this now would be tarnishing our names. Please, let the past go. You've nothing to prove'.

The crowd disagreed and jeered accordingly. Sagat took of his jacket and flung it to the floor, then tore off his shirt revealing the finely chiselled physique that had intimidated and overcome so many opponents, but more imoportantly, the scar accross his chest flashed though the night like a war flag.

'This...' He said motioning to the scar. 'Is unfinished business. Your victory was no victory at all. You have the opportunity to try and beat me fairly and with honour, why don't you take it? Or do you have no honour at all?'

The crowd was getting excited and were beginning to bey for blood.

'My body may have been strong then, but my mind was weak. I can't give you the fight you are looking for now. I have changed. My body has gotten softer but my resolve is solid.' Ryu calmly replied.

'Are you gonna let him talk to you like that?' Ken chipped in exasperated. 'You may not give a crap about that stuff anymore but I won't let my friend be spoken to like that.'

'Do not fall for his posturings Ken, he wishes only to antagonise us.' Ryu assured Ken.

'Screw that! This guy's ancient! If you won't take it to him then I will!'

The crowd rose to its feet as Ken stepped up and removed his shoes and shirt. His small frame was packed with more muscle than should be physically possible and he flicked back his slightly greying blonde hair as he flexed in preparation. Ryu knew it was pointless to try and talk him out of it. Once Ken's mind was made up, it was like trying to get a pitbull to give up its favourite toy. Who knows, maybe he might even win. After all, he and Ken had both trained together under the same master. Ken knew what he knew, but Ken's temper usually got the better of him. Temper is what had handed the win to Ryu all those years ago...but at a much greater cost. Ken entered the ring punching the air with lightening speed. He launched a few kicks to clear the cobwebs and show up for the crowd who were by now in a frenzy. Sagat rested against the ringpost and calmly wrapped his fists in bandages then waited for the referee to call the bell, if he had to get through Ken to get to Ryu, so be it.

The bell sounded and a flurry of acivity happened out in the crowd as money changed hands and people rushed forward for a closer view of this historic moment. Ken circled his opponent who was stood still, arms up in a preying mantis position, hands facing outwards. He needed to get on the inside of Sagat who had a much greater reach advantage and stay away from those legendarily devastating kicks. Ken rushed in with a flurry of straights and jabs, Sagat sidestepped and palmed down any which threatened his space. Ken quickly wiped his nose with his thumb, more out of frustration than anything else then launched at Sagat with a few side kicks, each deflected and dodged by the deceptively fast big man. Time to try a different tactic, Ken put himself within range to try and tempt Sagat in to throwing a kick, or at least a puch but nothing came, he just kept his distance from Ken, arms up and facing out. The crowd chanted Sagat's name and banged on tables like a war march. Ken grew tired of waiting and lunged in and down in an attempt to sweep the larger mans legs, utilising his own lower centre of gravity, but his reach was not sufficient and Sagat punished him for it with a swift shin kick to his shoulder as he was rising again. Now Sagat came to life and started throwing mean, stinging straights keeping Ken at bay and giving him no opportunity to slip past. Ken kept his guard up and absorbed the punishment, waiting for a chance. Sagat pulled back to throw a rounhouse kick but Ken saw it coming and ducked, dodging in to throw a couple of jabs and hooks which connected with Sagat's torso. It was tougher than an old beef carcass, fists would be no use here so Ken gained purchase on Sagat's shoulders and threw a couple of knees in to his abdomen and a few in to his knees to take his legs away from him. One of Sagat's legs buckled momentarily and Ken sensed an opportunity for some real damage, but a savage elbow connected with his head and sent him sprawling back. As Ken quickly tried to gain composure he missed Sagats right leg which was flying toward his head, foot made contact with skull with a sickening thud and Ken fell to the canvas dazed.

The crowd erupted and Sagat returned to his corner resting his elbow on the ring post. Waiting for his quarry to get up. Ken struggled to his feet but beat the 10 count in 7. Still a little unsteady he kept his distance while planning his next attack. Damn this guy could kick hard and fast he thought to himself. Sagat resumed his stance and slowly stalked his opponent across the ring, not giving any clues as to what he would do next. He unleashed a few shin kicks on Ken but his sturdy legs didn't seem phased by them. Sagat went higher with his next kick, aiming for the ribs but Ken grabbed his leg and threw him off balance. He wedged his foot in to Sagat's stomach and grabbed his arms for leverage then rolled backwards to perform a Hellcart. He realeased Sagat after a few rotations which sent him flying upside-down in to one of the ring posts. Ken quickly rose to his feet and unleashed a few straight kicks Sagat's way before he could rise completely which sent him backwards in to the ring post agian. Ken quickly followed with a left hook, right straight, left elbow combination which all connected satisfyingly and left Sagat sagging in the corner just as the first round bell sounded. If only he had a few more seconds he might have finished it there and then. Ken headed back to his own corner where Ryu was waiting for him.

'Ken, throw in the towel, please.' Ryu asked.

'What are you talking about? I've got this guy. Best figher in the world? Hah! How did he stay on top for so long? Must have been Bison's doing.' Ken spat.

'Don't underestimate him no matter what. He'll strike when you least expect it and you won't get back up for a long time. I've fought him before, I know what I'm talking about.'

'Yeah, and you beat him. Quite badly if I remember. If you can do it in his prime, I can definately do it now.'

Ryu quietly ground his teeth. He knew himself his victory had been shallow and dishonourable, but he had been overcome. Something which he was never going to let happen again. He patted Ken on the back and meekly nodded. Meanwhile, accross the ring, Sagat had risen from his slouched position and was waiting patiently in the same corner he had fallen. No one had come to offer him words of encouragement or guidance, no water or icepacks. He didn't need them.

The bell rang to signal the start of the second round and the crowd leapt to attention. Ken came rushing forward hoping to captialise on Sagat's state, he forward somersaulted in to a flying kick and connected with his opponents chest, sending him to the canvas. Ken stayed close to the floor and swept Sagat's long legs as he tried to stand again, then he dove in to try and do some damage on the floor but Sagat, who was on his back, kept him at bay with flailing kicks. Unable to find a way in, Ken allowed Sagat to get to his feet and they started circling each other again. Ken again lunged in for a kick but was met with a perfectly executed flying knee which knocked all the wind out of him. He lay on the canvas for a second before getting to his knees, Sagat stood over him, waiting for him to get up. As soon as the westerner got to his feet he was knocked down again by a furious punch to the temple which sent the room spinning. Still Ken got to his feet, numbers ringing in his head. Which ones he wasn't sure but he was pretty certain he had beaten the count. He now tried to focus on his opponent but could only find flashes of light and swirling colours. He felt his arm being manuevered, then a twisting sensation and an irresistable force urging him up and forward and he experienced a moment of clarity where he saw the delight on the faces of a number of spectators as Sagat brutally threw him out of the ring. He landed awkwardly on his head and felt a sensation like a beaded necklace being ripped in two, then everything went dark.

Ryu rushed over to his fallen comrade. As soon as he got near he knew it wasn't good news. Ken's neck was in an unnatural position and there was blood trickling from his nose and ears. There was no use even trying to rouse him, if he was alive he was better off unconcious. Ryu sat there while medical personnel rushed about trying to salvage the awful situation. He looked up at Sagat who was in the ring looking down with an expression of pure pride.
Ryu felt it rise up inside him. No, he couldn't let it happen. He had spent years trying to tame the beast inside him. All the pain and misery it had brought him and those he loved and for what? A few moments of fleeting glory. His head rung with rage, his blood screamed through his veins. He tried to remember his meditations and introspection but they could not come in time, his vision whited out and before he knew it he was inside the ring, bare chested, clenched fists facing his old nemesis. A bell rang in his ears just about audiable over the screams of the audience and Sagat stalked towards him. A flurry of kicks came toward him from all angles, Ryu blocked them all and stood his ground then retaliated with a double open palm strike to Sagat's chest which sent him flying back, Ryu followed and launched himself in to the air, one leg held out spinning violently. He connected once, twice, three, four, five times before landing and throwing a sturdy straight in to his opponents solar plexus which threw him in to the ropes. Ryu was relentless and came forward again, Sagat quickly regained composure and threw a few punches of his own which connected with Ryu's face perfectly. Ryu still came forward and Sagat started retreating to create some space, jabbing brutally along the way. This time Ryu made no effort to block and absorbed the punishment unfazed. Seeing that his opponent had been overcome with rage, Sagat threw all his might in to a right roundhouse that connected shin to head and spun Ryu head over heels on to the canvas. The impact caused Sagat pain in his leg like he'd never felt even in years of conditioning and he stumbled when he tried to put weight back on the affected limb.

Ryu got to his feet as if he'd tripped over and came on strong again. Sagat couldn't believe it, there wasn't a single opponent he'd ever met who'd withstood such an impact, he limped backwards waiting for an opportunity to strike. He couldn't rely on his legs now so had to play the waiting game. Ryu threw wild, relentless punches and kicks, Sagat managed to block most of the clumsy, rage fuelled hits but a few got through and hurt him bad. The crowd were at fever pitch as the bell rang to signal the end of the round, but Ryu just kept on coming. The referee tried to pull Ryu back in to his corner but received a crunching elbow to the nose for his trouble. He lay on the floor unconcious. Sagat was getting desperate and needed to end this before Ryu ended him for good. He managed to intercept a puch and throw Ryu off balance, pushing him away and creating some space. Ryu launched himself in to the air but before he could bring up his leg for another devastating kick Sagat jumped with all his might in to Ryu's path, right arm upwardly outstretched, left tucked in to the body.

'TIGER UPPERCUT!' He boomed as his fist connected right under Ryu's chin.

Ryu crashed to the floor like a ragdoll, unmoving, face down. Sagat collapsed exhausted beside him and both lay there for what seemed like an eternity. The roar of the crowd carried on and on at the spectacle they had just seen but eventually gave way to the mumbling of confusion and concern. Who had won the match? Did it even count? Were they okay? The referee was still out so the ring announcer rang the bell. Medical staff invaded the ring to check on all three parties. Eventually Sagat stumbled to his feet unaided. He turned on the helpers in the ring, tossing a few out and scaring the others away. He stood there to the applause of his people, basking in his glory and looked down on the crumpled body that was Ryu. He had done it. Avenged his bitter defeat.

He reached down to Ryu and turned him over, his eyes were glowing a deep blue, that deep blue. Sagat had seen it long ago, just before... His scar began to throb and his chest tightened in anticipation, but the rest of his exhausted body was too slow to react. In one swift motion Ryu shot to his feet and delivered an apocalyptic maneuver of his own.

'SHORYUKEN!' Came Ryu's words, as if he were posessed.

Ryu's fist tore in to Sagat's chest, opening a deep gash exactly where his scar was, then his fist made contact with Sagat's head, knocking him clean out. Ryu then stood over him raining fist after brutal fist down until Sagat's face was bloodied and battered. Then he stopped. The silence hit him like a speeding train and the deep blue faded from his eyes. He gazed down at his fists all bloodied and raw then down at Sagat. He recoiled in horror. All eyes were upon him, he had slain their hero and succumbed to his worst fear, the Satsui No Hadou. History was repeating itself for both contenders and now they lay there, broken men. Ryu began to sob gentley and slid out of the ring. He went over to the trolley where his friend now lay covered in a sheet and collapsed on to it. He said a small private prayer before removing his red headband and placing it upon Ken's body. Then he turned to leave. The long walk out of the arena was harder than any fight he'd ever fought, but no one got in his way. They just stared in silence. The guard by the exit moved to let him pass and looked to the ground as he left. Ryu paused, looked back over his shoulder, then headed out in to the night.

Meanwhile in the ring, Sagat was being seen to by medical staff. He was alive and now concious. They tried to help him up but he shrugged them off and got to his own two feet. He looked out across his once adoring public, defeated once again and bloodied. A gentle applause, more out of pity than respect, echoed out as he slowly hobbled his way to the backstage area. Once he was backstage, away from the public he sat down under a cold shower and contemplated the evening as the water washed the blood away. He had not only lost, but sacrificed his own integrity, honour and gone back on his word. He was not a true warrior anymore.

A soft chuckle from up ahead. Sagat looked up, it was Vega. He was wearing his mask and brandished his claw. It shone brilliantly even in the dull backstage shower light. His vanity knew no limits.

'What are you so happy about? Ryu's alive. Ken is dead, you don't get paid plus my legacy and honour are in shreds. We all lose. What the hell is there to be pleased about?' Sagat managed.

'Oh I'm not interested in Ryu or Ken. That was one hell of a fight earlier, you must be exhausted.'

'Then why the hell did you send me after them then?' A confused Sagat enquired

'That little bit of paper I told you about earlier? You never did ask whose name was on it.' Vega said through a grin.

Sagat's blood, or what was left of it, ran cold.

'I just needed you worn out and softened up so that I wouldn't have to risk my pretty face in combat.'

'You deceitful...b...b...bastard!'

Vega made his way meanacingly over to Sagat and raised his clawed hand. Sagat put up his weary arms, but he knew it would be no use.

'Dan sends his regards' Vega said.

Vega's strikes were swift and deadly. After he was done, he showered and made his way back to Spain to collect his reward. So much for honour among warriors.

Sagat was given a national burial attended by thousands and several days of national mourning were declared. The great warrior was finally at peace.