Well, well. Seems like the writing-bug has bitten me once more.

Won't keep you all too long. Firstly, you've opened this fic, meaning you have some remote interest in it - I sincerely do hope you enjoy it. To put simply, Kenshi remains probably my most favourite MK character - and although I have other favourites, none of them compel me as intensely to sit my lazy ass down, and to explore and/or write about them in particular. I have been enjoying the recent MK game, but do feel the story mode was sparse, loosely connected and could have been better (for starters, Kenshi should have gotten a chapter, amongst others, but I digress).

My aim with this fic, however, is to combine the events of the MKX comics and the game's storyline - to fill in the gaps, to develop and flesh out the characters more.. I can't promise when it will end - I envision this to be a weird concoction of a series of oneshots, with some minor 3-4 chapter arcs. Given my hectic schedule as a final year student, I will try my best to update this as soon as I can, but no promises. Irrespective, I hope this summer I can get enough words on paper to justify having this published.

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. Just playing around with the events of the new timeline, hoping the voids would make for a decent story.

Warning: Contains spoilers for the storymode and MK comics, obviously.

Additional note: Hailing from an Asian culture myself, I have tried my best to be as accurate as I can of how Eastern values are presented here. Nevertheless, I'm still not deeply informed of Thai values - if there is anything that is seen as inappropriate, or out of line, I apologise in advance and humbly request you to let me know promptly so I can fix the said mistake. I mean no ill-will or disrespect to anyone, thank you.

The Takahashi Family Saga

Of Love and Loss

I

Lampang, Thailand

March, 1999

"Oi, Takeda! Wait up, you're going too fast!"

Nopadan was panting and puffing, the adorably rotund second-grader struggled to catch up to his speeding best friend. Presently, school had just ended and despite their mothers' warnings to return straight home, the duo raced to catch glimpse of the new carnival just outside of town. The hot humid air had begun to take its toll on the boy, and for the moment, he regretted saying yes to his best friend's plan of the current detour.

Unhindered, Nopadan's friend ran on, his speed and agility reflecting the excitement as it boiled forth from his being. Light blue eyes slightly watering from the impact of the rushing wind, mouth set in a permanent grin – Takeda Takahashi was filled with glee; the time and distance that separated him from the carnival just could not erase itself any faster than this.

After a few more minutes of running, the boys came close to the cliff that overlooked the carnival as it was being set up. Nopadan crashed with a loud thud onto the grass, rivulets of sweat rolling off of his forehead, terribly missing the lemonade and dumplings his mother would have had ready for him. Takeda, on the other hand, ignored his antics entirely. Unfolding below them was one of the biggest carnivals being arranged by the municipality of Lampang – complete with cheap rides, fruit stalls and his favourite cotton candy! And here was Nopadan, crying about the heat as always.

"Nopa, get up, you! Just look at it! They said we'll have seven rides this year – seven!" exclaimed Takeda, dragging his friend up to look at the scene below. "Man, oh man, I can't wait to tell my mother about this! She—"

"Not this year, weirdo Take-da!"

Takeda stopped mid-sentence, feeling his blood run both hot and cold at the sound of the dreaded fifth-grader, Klahan. Nopadan grasped Takeda's shoulder slightly, in a show of support, before both the boys turned to face Klahan directly.

"What do you want, Klahan?" Takeda asked, angry at the brazenly mocking tone of the older student.

"Oh, I was just being considerate," sneered Kalahan, a few others from his gang sniggering to his words. "I just want to tell you to say good-bye of ever attending the carnival!"

"Why? I will go to the carnival, who're you to stop me?!" Takeda shot back, furious and with fists clenching for a fight he had long denied himself.

"Takeda, easy!" whispered Nopadan urgently, tugging at his sleeve. "Just ignore him, let's get out of here!"

"Quiet, Nopa. I got this!" the younger boy whispered ferociously.

"Hahaa!" Klahan and his friends roared with laughter at Takeda's response. "Did you see that, guys? Poor little Take-da raising his voice against me! Oh how rude of you Take-da – didn't your mother teach you some manners?"

A fit of hilarity took the group of older students, as Takeda and Nopadan grew increasingly flustered.

"Oh wait, Klahan! His mother is hardly ever home to teach him anything!" One of Klahan's friend continued, this time, wiping a tear off from his eye as he continued to laugh. "Take-da's so poor, his mother has to work all day to survive!"

"Takeda let's go…."

"Shut up, Nopa!"

This was not the first time Takeda was being bullied in and outside of school. From mocking his unusual name, to questioning his slightly wider blue eyes, to his poverty-stricken background. The latter bit hurt Takeda the most – his mother had always provided everything he needed and ever wanted, whilst instilling the importance of money and the sense of being careful with it. Yet somehow, for these few kids, the fact that Suchin was a working mother who supported her small family was an incident too far removed from their conception of normalcy. It hurt Takeda to see his mother being mocked about so cheaply.

"Don't you dare talk about my mother!" shot back Takeda as white hot fury flared within him. He rushed forward, small fists raised, with the intention of hurting Klahan despite his own dim chances. Nopadan sensibly held him back, muttering reassurances and pleading him to leave the bullies alone.

The situation only exacerbated.

"Know what, Klahan? Sue told me, Takeda's mother isn't even married to his father! How indecent is that?!"

"Stop it, Chen!"

"That explains why Take-da's so poor – his mother probably never got her dowry!"

"I'm warning you, Kla-"

Klahan was gasping for breath in the midst of his uncontrollable fits of laughter. He snorted a little, before continuing:

"D'ya know the best part? It's about his dad! Sue told me Take-da's father can't see! He is actually BLIND! He probably found Takeda so ugly, he lost his sight and ran away! Now you see why he's such a wimp - wimpy Take-da takes after his wimpy, useless, blind dad!"

Nopadan audibly gasped, and said something to the elder boys, which Takeda didn't register. He stopped struggling against his friend, and with a bowed head, let his fists drop to his sides, limp. A sense of crippling shame overtook the child - a deep blush crept up to his ears and neck, while a trickle of trepidation, cold as ice, rolled down the length of his spine in spite of the sweltering humidity. Tears sprang to Takeda's cerulean eyes, and despite his attempts to drink them back, they began to roll down on to the ground, akin to the first few drops rain falling on the scorched desert.

'My dad is an important man! He has work to do - mother would never lie! He never abandoned us!' In his mind, Takeda screamed these words to the heavens and beyond; but for the life of him, he simply could not get even the first syllable to come out from his overly constricted throat. In front of Klahan and his friends, he remained silent. A shaky sob escaped his lips, and without another word, Takeda fled.

Through the same area where he had been running gleefully, Takeda's delight of seeing the carnival come to town had all but drowned in an overwhelming sense of worthlessness and humiliation. The tears now flowed freely, while his sobbing became louder. The only thing the young boy sought at that point in time was his mother's embrace, and the fact that she probably won't be home to provide it drove home the point even further – he was from a poor household, his faceless blind father did abandon them, and his existence was without honour. Klahan would have spread it to the whole school come the next morning.

By the time he reached the locality where he resided, Takeda's tears had dried up but his eyes remained downcast. Briefly, only briefly, did he feel the uncertain weight on his shoulders shift a little when he saw his mother unlocking the door to his house. Without announcing his arrival, he bolted straight for her arms, enveloping his mother in the tightest hug he could muster – missing the half-crazed, frantic gaze of the terrified young woman who could not get in to the house fast enough.

Classified Location

Remote village, Japan

'Run, goddamnit, run…'

Kenshi writhed in the sheets, convulsing from the horrors he was witnessing whilst supposedly being asleep. It wasn't just another nightmare for the swordsman, however – this particular recurring dream would leave him shaken to his very core, bringing with it more questions than answers. The increased frequency since the past few weeks, especially with the Red Dragon in hot pursuit, had unnerved him to no end.

Unlike when he was awake, Kenshi's dreams were always remained colourful and visual, a respite from the persistent, permanent gray darkness that was his blindness. Restful slumber brought with it an outlet where he could put together all the information he collected from his other senses, coalescing and forging images too powerful for eyes to perceive. When he dreamt, blindness as an impairment ceased to exist for him in its entirety.

All except for now; now his supposed reprieve was morphing into an ugly, heinous beast inside his mind, tearing away at his sanity as he remained too helpless to do anything.

He would recognise her by her scent from afar – jasmine, fresh water. Her chi would be reflected in the colours mirroring the purity of her heart across his spiritual vision. He could feel his senses be intoxicated in her presence – the long silky hair, the almond shaped eyes, the rapier wit and feigned haughtiness that would leave others scratching for answers. Not Kenshi. He had broken into her defenses and recognised her for the goodness of her soul – a revelation that Suchin herself was yet unaware of.

But she was in trouble. He could see the nerves wrought with tension, the simmering anxiety, the damned nervous wringing of her hands. She clutched a young boy to her bosom – maybe her son? – but he could see the tears at the corner of her eyes which she willed and drank back.

Suchin, however, was not alone. There was a darkness, crimson - watching, plotting, planning, waiting… Until – the flash of a katana. Metal clanged against metal, steel blades ripping, slicing skin, flesh and sinew. For a while, there was chaos, there was blood, terror… Then all fell silent.

Kenshi clutched the sheets, his knuckles going dangerously white as sweat poured down from the sides of his temples into his hair. The veins in his neck, forehead and forearms protruded prominently from his pale skin; he constantly changed positions, unable to break free from the imagery cast by his own mind.

Now he was running. He was on the run again. With a weight at his back, in the wilderness of what seemed like a remote part of Earthrealm. The only goal in mind was to get to safety, for the crimson darkness followed him, threatening to engulf and suffocate him. Every ounce of muscle on his body was on fire, his legs screaming for respite yet in his mind, no… He had to get to safety, he needed to survive this.. but he was tired. Exhausted. A moment's breather was all that was required. A strange ringing noise… The crimson darkness was onto him, now tearing his insides apart… He had failed…

"Aaargh!" Kenshi awoke finally with a start, a ferocious ringing in his ears that rattled all other perceptions. He boxed his ears and grunted, trying to get his bearings - and after a few painful moments, the ringing eventually began to subside. Panting, he sat with his legs stretched out in front of him, and leaned back on his hands awkwardly; his eyes clenched shut, as an explosion of pain flared across from one temple to another. Sweat continued to pour in rivers from his face, down the length of a straight nose. Breathing deeply, he covered his face with quivering, stone-cold hands, and tried to calm himself. The images played unrelentingly behind his closed eyes, as he willed them away, defensively beckoning the Sento to his hand.

Merely holding the sheathed katana brought some semblance of tranquility to the weary, edgy swordsman. As he felt his senses return to normal, he realised what had caused him to snap out from his nightmare. A peculiar, electronic ringing – one he had never heard before. It took a while before his confused mind registered the sound as coming from the Special Forces' satellite phone – one which he had cranked a generator for months to charge, only for it to never ring.

Until this very moment.

Rushing down the stairs of his small hut, he finally came to the telephone stand, inhaling deeply before picking up the receiver and speaking directly into it.

"Major Blade, this is Takahashi Kenshi, reporting."

Well, that's it for now, guys! I hope you all enjoyed this, please do review and let me know of any criticisms or concerns. Thanks! :)