Chapter 2

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

Comments: This time 'round, it's RinoaDestiny's Team Chill's Kyo and Nanomemes' Team Murder's Iori in Nanoverse-reality. Confusion still continues. XD Another piece of joint writing, which is absolutely a blast to work on. =) Enjoy!

It was a fine day in SouthTown.

Four in the afternoon. The heat was sweltering. The humidity was 150%. It was business as usual for the residents of this city. Even in PortTown, where gangs ran amok and danger was hidden around every corner, everything seemed calm. The crackhouse across the street was humming with activity, the flower shop downstairs was empty - per usual, and Kyo Kusanagi was sitting, stunned, on Iori Yagami's doormat.

Of course, he didn't know it was Iori Yagami's doormat. He didn't even know where he was, and he didn't know how he got here. Two minutes ago he was in a tea shoppe drinking sugary lattes and eating tiny cakes with Yuki, and now, with a thud, he found himself sitting on his ass, slightly dizzy and 'more-than-a-little' pissed.

The first thought which entered his brain was an indignant, 'Which of these rude bastards pulled my chair!?'

He immediately scrambled to his feet and whirled around to confront the smart prankster who thought it'd be funny to publicly embarrass the King of Fighters. Instead of some snarky group of teenagers, he found himself about to yell at a weatherbeaten white stucco wall.

"You little bra-..."

What?!

He whirled back around with equal vigor to look for his half-finished latte and his girlfriend. Instead, he found himself staring down a flight of stairs leading to the cracked asphalt of a back alley.

Wait… What the hell?!

He felt the beginnings of panic stirring in his brain.

He rapidly realized he was no longer in the quaint little Japanese coffee shop, and had somehow ended up in the middle of a place he wasn't familiar with. It was derelict - where the hell was he? - and didn't look like any part of Japan he knew. Home didn't look like this, so where was he? Where was he and how did he end up here?

Why, even?

It was hot - too much so - and he was baking in the unforgiving sun as it beat down its heat rays on his head. Maybe if he looked around or asked someone here - there were people living here, right? - he'd find answers. Answers that hopefully made some sense.

So he started with the nearest place. He was by someone's front door, in some dingy neighborhood and there was a doormat not far from where he stood. It was ugly, to be frank - not that Kyo knew much about doormats - and it had seen better days. The beige color was faded, the edges ratty, and the mat itself showed wear and tear. Probably from being exposed to the elements. He stepped forward and nudged it with the tip of his shoe.

There was a sound coming from underneath. Curious, he knelt and flipped the mat. Even as it curled, coming to rest upon the landing, the shine of metal caught his eye.

A key. He looked up, saw the door. Looked back down.

Who left the key to their front door under their doormat? Where anyone could find it? Even someone like him - he should be in Japan right now, not here (wherever this was) - a complete stranger, could just take this and walk into this person's home. Lie in wait. Do whatever. Hell, if he was a serial killer or someone equally unsavory, this person was dead.

It was a good thing he wasn't.

He picked up the key. Looked at it closely. Yeah, it was to this apartment. For this door.

He was sweating. The sun was brutally hot and hanging high overhead. Ugh. He needed shelter. Maybe this unfortunate would forgive him for his well-meant intrusion.

He put the key into the lock - a perfect fit - and turned it. The tumbler within gave way and the lock clicked. He put his hand on the door handle and began to turn it, the metal cool in his palm.

"Hey Boss."

Iori didn't even look up. He was concentrating very hard on trying to read his phone, but the car was bouncing and rattling over potholes so violently he could hardly keep both eyes pointing in the same direction. He knew his own street well enough to dodge them, but Rock Howard was driving and he didn't. He just plowed right through and was likely doing horrible things to the Mustang's bumper.

"What."

"I wanna take a road trip with Seirah this weekend- whoa!"

They hit a particularly deep pothole and both passengers were momentarily thrown in the air. When they returned to their seats, they continued as if nothing had happened. Iori really should have questioned why Rock had offered to drive him home. The teenager lived in city central and had no means of transport once he dropped the car, and his boss in PortTown. Rock was obviously plotting something, but Iori - as per usual - never suspected his own people.

"Road trip?" Another pothole rattled his brain. "Do what you want. I'm not your mom… Wait… Wait is that…"

They were pulling up to Knight street, and just past "Shates' Flower Emporium", when Iori caught sight of a very familiar silhouette unlock his front door and push his way through.

Iori knew who that was. He felt his blood burning and Riot was yipping happy nonsense in his head. There was nobody in this entire city would dare break into his house… he had quite a reputation around here.

Nobody except for one person.

"KUSANAGI YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!"

He stuck his head out the window and roared. Beside him, Rock Howard rolled his eyes and slowed down enough for him to hurl himself out the window, and not crack his skull open on the pavement. He fruitlessly tried to get a word in before Iori took off.

"Wait, Boss. Um, I don't have a car, so I wanted to borro-"

"DON'T TOUCH MY TV YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

Iori snarled, rolled to his feet, and shot up the stairs like the raving lunatic he was. He didn't even notice Rock shrug and gun away in his car. The only thing on his mind was 'Kyo, that little shit, is here to steal my TV again and I'm gonna fucking fold him in half!'.

His eyesight began tunneling as he stomped his way up the stairs as quickly as he could. He whipped around the corner and burst through his front door to find Kyo Kusanagi standing in his living room… no doubt about to uninstall his new television.

"GET FUCKED YOU FUCK!"

Iori hardly registered the panic on the other man's face as he charged. Normally in this situation, Kyo would be grinning his stupid trolly grin.

And normally, he wouldn't be able to grab Kyo. Iori was convinced his rival was some sort of time traveller, because somehow Kyo always knew what he was going to do next. Iori was just as surprised as his victim when he caught the other man about the waist and plowed them both headfirst into the carpet.

"Got'cha now, bitch! Stay away from my TV!"

"What the f...Yagami? What the hell are you...what the hell is going on?"

"Fuck you mean, what the hell is going on. You sure as hell know! This is the fourth time this year! The fourth!"

He seized Kyo by the collar of his shirt and gave him four shakes for good measure. Kyo looked as shocked and confused as Iori had ever seen him. He had grabbed onto his attacker's wrists and was making a sorry attempt to dislodge Iori's grip and throw him off. If Iori had been less angry, he might have noticed this Kyo didn't fight like the one he was used to. The other one would have wrestled him into a chokehold by now... but he was going to get his licks in while he could.

After all, that was why Kyo was here for, right? Steal his TV, eat SouthTown Cuisine at his expense, and to play 'beat other silly' for a few days until he flew home.

So right now he was probably expecting to be dragged out to the street to be set on fire and punched for half an hour. It was the natural course of their interactions.

So without a moment of either hesitation or restraint, Iori wrenched his rival's arm behind his back, and began dragging him out to the balcony.

That was when Kyo began hollering. "Wait! Wait! Yagami! Where the fuckin' hell am I?"

"In my house you shit! And I'm gonna eat your fucking liver!"

"Your house? The fuck...where?"

Iori narrowed his eyes and whirled to throw Kyo across the threshold of his door. The other man had quickly risen to his feet and fell into a defensive stance. He looked suspicious and slightly nervous. He had memory loss. He was fighting like shit. What…

Is this one of those shitty clones?

No. He knew the aura of the Kusanagi sword like the back of his hand. This was the one and only Kyo Kusanagi… and he had probably taken acid or something.

Iori rolled his eyes and planted his hands on his hips. The snarl stayed etched in his features, but it was just bravado. Kyo wasn't in any shape to fight, and Iori didn't want to piss the other man off too much. Attacking an inebriated man was a little low. Even for him.

He walked forward and crossed his arms to lean against the doorframe. Kyo watched him warily from behind raised fists.

"Alright, fess up. What did you smoke?"

"What did I…? I don't smoke, Yagami. Where the hell am I? Is this Osaka?"

"God… they let you fly all fucked up? Seriously, what drugs are you on? Does this look like Osaka?!" He angrily gestured toward the street. "You're in fucking SouthTown you idiot!"

"SouthTown? Wait...you don't live in SouthTown. You've always...when did you move to SouthTown? You've always lived in Osaka, Yagami."

"What?!"

If Kyo didn't look so sincerely confused, Iori would have set him on fire right there and started punching him. Sometimes Kyo tried to mess with his brain, and Iori already had enough confusion in his head to last a lifetime. He really didn't appreciate being fed false information for kicks.

But it seemed like Kyo was sincere, if not high.

Iori sighed and let the aggression drop abruptly out of his voice.

"I moved here five years ago, and you need to go to the hospital. Did you hit your head on the way here?"

"No! I was on a date with Yuki and...huh. Yagami...I just met you...well, the you that I know, in Shinsaibashi last week. You were up to your usual stalking and...yeah."

Kyo's voice petered out.

Iori deadpanned.

Yeah. Definitely high.

Kyo was seriously confused. Iori Yagami lived in Osaka, Japan. He knew this very well. Only saw the guy every week or every other week, depending on how often Yagami wanted to confront him or just follow him because the other man had no life. He also wasn't this downright aggressive and certainly had nothing against him about TVs, because hell if he knew where Yagami lived. It wasn't as if his rival broadcasted his living quarters to him.

His rival maintained his own privacy. Besides, Kyo didn't want to know where he lived, anyway.

"Yeah, Yeah, whatever. I'm calling you an ambulance. Oy, how many fingers am I holding up? What's the name of Kagura's company? What year did you kill your family?"

"What?!" Kill his family? Kagura's company? The fuck was Yagami - this wasn't the Iori he knew at all (And what was with his fashion sense? Iori wouldn't show up in public wearing that.) - going on about? "My family's still alive. For what fucking reason would I kill them?"

"What do you mean 'Reason'? Did you catch Alzheimer's or something? How the hell do you forget something like that? You just went loony and went at it… you fucking hated them for years. What's wrong with you? Oy, I'm calling an ambulance. Just sit tight."

Iori pulled out his phone and began dialing. Kyo attempted to sort his thoughts.

Shit. None of this made any goddamn sense. Was he in some alternate reality like in those movies that sometimes came from America? He was in SouthTown. Maybe Yagami knew something about that, but it was obvious the guy thought he was stark raving mad. Ha - that was a joke. Not that the Yagami he knew raved. The guy he knew was quiet - sometimes unnervingly so - which meant the madness was kept under wraps. He knew it was there - so did Yagami - but the other man didn't like the world to know. Except during the tournaments. That was the only exception and both of them knew why.

'Cuz Iori only wanted to fight him. Everyone else was a nuisance.

"Hello. Yes I need an ambulance. 180 Knight Street... I think an overdose? Not sure… It's for my friend."

Iori was on his phone and his tone was serious. Was he really calling for an ambul...shit!

"Whoa! I don't need an ambulance! Yagami...oi! You listening to me? Don't. Need. An. Ambulance!"

"Yeah… Please send one right away- " Iori covered the receiver of his cellphone to address him. His behavior was a complete 180 from before. Just ten minutes ago, he'd been tackled to the ground by a snarling lunatic. Now, that same lunatic was calmly dialing emergency services for him. He spoke as if bored.

"Yeah, but you don't remember anything so you're definitely fucked from something. How the hell did you think I lived in Osaka? You only break into apartment every two months to sell my fucking TV. You're going to the hospital. Kagura will kill me if you die."

"What?" In between this absolutely inane conversation - what the hell was this Yagami on? - Kyo began to feel his stomach protesting. He'd only been in the middle of a date with Yuki, moving their relationship to a higher level, and they both had gotten food because they needed it. When his stomach rumbled, his mind sputtered "Oh shit" and in between the goddamn heat and the sunlight coming down hard, he was reminded of a very significant necessity that was now required. Very much so. Badly.

"Fine. I'll get checked out, since you're so worried. But can I get something to eat first? I'm starving, man."

Iori sputtered at that. The snarl was back.

"I'm not worried. Jeez. Stop saying shit like that. It's why everyone thinks we're sleeping together."

"The fuck? Why would I...ew."

"It's all your fucking fault too. You say all sorts of weird shit for kicks. Last KOF you told the reporters I give kickass blowjobs. Fuck man. And doesn't help that you fly over here to bum around my apartment for weeks at a time, and …"

He seemed to hear Kyo's stomach complaining.

"Fine. What do you wanna eat?"

Kyo was resolute in ignoring the first part of Iori's rant, because...ew. Why would he say that? Why would anyone think that? Hell, if he said something like that within earshot of the Yagami he knew - the quieter one - Iori would just raise an eyebrow and retort with all the sarcastic wit he had. Which was plenty. He ought to know. "Does SouthTown have ramen, or is it just the stuff Bogard talks about? Hamburgers, fries, all that?"

"Hell man, we're not barbarians… let's go."

Iori shrugged, pocketed his cellphone and started down the stairs. He froze halfway down and carefully scanned the empty street. Kyo followed him warily.

After a moment, he tossed his head back and shrieked at the sky.

"WHERE THE HELL IS MY CAR?!"