They pulled up the long driveway to the Crankurt home; a large two storey Victorian house with an even bigger garden lined with rose bushes, fig trees, strawberry plants and other fruit bearing plant life. A cobblestone walkway snaked through the property, around the showcase trees and bushes that Katarina had invested countless hours in keeping up their appearances, and eventually led them up to the double front doors of the house. Craig had mentioned before that he'd wanted to dig up the useless path and rebuild it with his bare hands so that it would lead directly to the door but the suggestion was met with pure, angry protest by his wife.
Craig and Kenneth finally reached the front door after nothing less than a short stroll along the path (God forbid they set foot on the grass) and entered the home, both of them a little surprised to find the front door unlocked. They stepped inside directly onto a floor mat, and Kenneth could feel the heated air rush against his face, chilled by the cold air outside. An elegant chandelier hung overhead, casting a warm, soft light in the foyer and the scent of brewing tea lingered in the air.

"That's weird," Craig said, wrinkling his nose. "I figured Kat would be asleep by now."

"I'd hoped so," Kenneth added with a hint of bitterness in his voice that didn't go unnoticed.

"Good, then," Craig snapped, "You can have that badly needed talk." Kenneth shot him a glare.

"Alone," Craig specified, "because I'm tired but more importantly, because you've avoided Katarina ever since meeting her."

"Can you blame me?"

"No, but you'd think twenty six years is a long enough time to come to terms with the fact that she's your blood-sister."

"You never fail to remind me of that little fact," Kenneth mumbled bitterly before trudging deeper into the house. Craig produced a soft, surrendered sigh and followed him in. Out of habit, Kenneth stepped onto the smooth tile of the main entrance and removed his shoes, neatly placing them on a rack to the left – something he had been trained to do during the time spent living here. The rack supported a large array of footwear with four pairs belonging to Craig and Christopher, taking up a modest corner. The rest belonged to Katarina – high heeled shoes, boots with every imaginable cut, open toed, closed toed in every color imaginable from the color spectrum.

"Since Kat's got the tea brewing," Craig mentioned, remembering Kenneth's love for coffee, "you want something to drink?"

"A mickey of tequila," he replied without missing a beat and headed straight for the living room.

They had just entered the living room when Craig nearly collided with his brother, who had come to a sudden stop. He'd only let out a soft cry of surprise and then saw what had stopped Kenneth dead in his tracks. Katarina was sitting at the small circular dining table where the family would have their meals. She was leaned back, arms tightly folded, as if the mere sight of the table's other occupant had repulsed her. It was a man with a face that Craig and Kenneth both recognized but could not immediately place. The man, however, smiled widely upon noticing the new arrivals.

"Looks like we've got ourselves a little reunion," he noted, looking at them with almost soul-less eyes.

XXXXX

Kiennen sat on a plastic chair placed in the opposite corner from where the toilet was set. He had his knees pulled up to his chest, his chin resting atop them as his eyes stared blankly at the cement floor. Goosebumps formed on his arms and his stomach growled through his shirt but that was nothing compared to the betrayal he felt; betrayal from his own father. It was along the lines of having one's parents lie to their child about their family ancestry, but this was worse simply for the fact that lives were endangered. Kiennen had something dark running through his veins, something he could not control and Kenneth hadn't uttered a word to him about it. Did he not trust his own son with that knowledge? Did he not think Kiennen could handle it? Or did he truly believe that ignorance was bliss? But ignorance had cost someone their life, and now Kiennen was paying for it.

"But it's not my fault," he whispered to himself. "It's Dad's. He didn't tell me. I didn't know." And so the cycle of blame started all over again for the umpteenth time that night, while he remained huddled in the corner of his cell. But then, an idea struck.

He had already used this dark energy and beheaded an older boy quickly and cleanly. He was going to be tried for it, and spend the rest of eternity rotting in conditions worse that this at the local police station. It was a bleak future that he wanted to avoid, and since he'd already committed the ultimate sin of murder, he couldn't do any worse by merely trying to escape his sentence. Things could only get better from here.

Smiling, he rose from his corner and approached the thick black barred doors holding him in, silently congratulating himself for finding the light at the end of his tunnel. In each hand, he grasped onto a bar and pulled in as much air as his lungs could handle in one breath, and tried to pull the bars apart.

XXXXX

"Genta …"

It took him a second for the realization to sink it, and going by the look on Craig's face, he knew who it was too. The adoptive brothers immediately sank into a fighting stance, prepared for the fight that was going to take place here and now.

"Get away from him, Kat," Craig said sternly. "Be with Chris."

Katarina nodded obediently and looked at Genta one last time in the eye. "You've made a mistake," she said, and rose from her seat calmly and proceeded to the stairwell that would take her upstairs where her son was probably asleep, completely oblivious to the events transpiring downstairs.

Genta chuckled to himself, whether it was out of amusement or realizing he was outnumbered, Kenneth couldn't tell. And he, too, got up casually and faced the two brothers. If he felt threatened, his composure didn't give it away. Neither did the tone in his voice.

"I didn't come here to fight," he said, "but if it's what you two want, I will oblige."

"Get out of here, Genta," Kenneth warned. "I've had a very bad day and I'm looking for every excuse to take it out on someone."

"You've gone soft, Kenny," Genta sneered. "You'll be taking out your frustration by peeling yourself off the floor when I'm done with you." Kenneth lunged toward Genta but was stopped by a powerful grip on his shoulder, causing him to wince in pain.

"No," Craig ordered, "not here." His gaze flicked upwards for a moment, clueing Kenneth in on the fact that Katarina and Chris were in still the house. Realizing he couldn't engage in combat with Genta without endangering Craig's family, he grunted in frustration and stood his ground.

"Hmph, you really have lost whatever edge you had." That was the first time Kenneth could recall that Genta had acknowledged his ferocity in battle. Except now, it had been roughly two decades since he'd put away his combat skills, but the hate he harbored towards Shadowlaw and anything associated with it never left him. As much as Kenneth would have liked to cut Genta down where he stood, he knew he couldn't take the risk with other people present; never mind that Genta had probably been training with Shadowlaw all these years and would probably eliminate Kenneth, now a marketing supervisor, in under three minutes.

"We won't fight here," Craig said. His composure was calm but his tone was powerful. "Leave, Genta."

Genta lowered his fists and sneered at them both. "I'm finished with business here anyhow." He turned partly away from the brothers and headed out the porch door from where he entered.

"What did you do to Kat?" Craig demanded.

"Ask her," Genta said before leaving. He didn't bother closing the door behind him.

Craig and Kenneth were silent even after Genta had left, neither of them knowing what to make of the situation. Two mugs of hot tea sat on the dining table – the one at Genta's seat three quarters empty, and Katarina's still full and steaming. In any other scenario, one would have safely assumed two old friends had just been sitting here catching up on the times. But the fact that Katarina and Genta shared a past did not escape Kenneth, who continued to remain suspicious about the woman who he still refused to acknowledge as his blood sister. Craig, on the other hand, seemed to relax now. As far as he was concerned, the absence of Shadowlaw was cause for celebration yet he didn't share Kenneth's sentiments about his wife being Shadowlaw herself.

"Is everything alright?" Katarina asked, standing at the end of the hallway that led into the dining room where a fight nearly broke out.

"It's okay," Craig reassured her, "Genta's gone now. How's Chris?"

"He's asleep," she replied. "I was ready to jump into his room, grab him and run like a bat out of hell. I guess that wouldn't have done much against Genta anyway."

"What were you two discussing?" Kenneth demanded. Craig chided him with a stern look for the aggression in his tone, knowing it wouldn't work with Kenneth anyway. It hadn't worked when they were kids, and it wasn't going to work now.

Katarina opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself, as if she realized saying a word would be a grave mistake.

"I see," Kenneth said, "more secrets."

"Enough, Kenny," Craig interrupted, and this time, it succeeded in forcing him to back off.

Katarina held up her index and middle fingers. "There are two things you need to know," she said. "And you're not going to like either one of them." Kenneth swallowed a lump in his throat upon hearing this, and suddenly he wasn't so sure he wanted to hear what Katarina had to say. In one day, an innocent boy had been killed and his fourteen year old son had been convicted of manslaughter and possibly murder, and he had just run into his longtime nemesis from Shadowlaw after two decades of living free from their influence. And he had just picked up smoking again as a result. What else could go wrong in twenty-four hours?

Katarina motioned for the both of them to sit and Kenneth and Craig found themselves at the same dining table Katarina and Genta sat minutes ago, only now Kenneth was in Genta's spot. She folded her arms tightly and looked nervously downward, as if she were scrutinizing the white fabric of the table cloth while her husband and his younger brother waited patiently for her to find the right words. Kenneth felt like he was on a talk show, the ones that usually involved someone having to reveal a secret. Only this one wasn't staged. This was real. Kenneth looked at his open palms, flexed his fingers slightly, wondering if this was all really happening. All saw was a blurry mass of flesh that had the silhouette of hands. He would've blamed it on his poor vision, after having mutilated his glasses back at the police station, but he also knew his vision was caused partly by tears generated by the fear of what was about to be revealed. He wanted to know, but he knew it wasn't good news.

Craig reached to his left, and covered Katarina's small hands with his palm. Her posture eased and she seemed to relax a little at his touch. To his right, he put his hand on Kenneth's shoulder but his body trembled more as a result, the fear becoming more real in his eyes. If he didn't believe it before, Craig's hand on his shoulder proved it really was happening.

Katarina took a deep breath and as she exhaled, she spoke. "I know why the Shadow Technology appeared in Kiennen." Kenneth looked at her as if she had known all along but chose to keep the information from him. She waited to see how else he would react, but when nothing further came from him, she continued. "During the battle with Shadowlaw during the Street Fighter tournaments all those years ago …"

"Are you sure this is the best timing?" Craig interrupted her.

"You're in on this too, Cranky?" Kenneth asked him. But neither of them responded with words, but just sighed instead with the realization that it was too late to try to hide. "Now would be a good time to explain." The subtle demands in his tone weren't lost on Craig and Katarina. Looking uneasy, they began speaking in turns, filling Kenneth in on the information he had missed out on all these years.

"The reason Kiennen inherited the Shadow Technology," Katarina began, "is because it was in you to pass it along. You believed all these years that it had been permanently removed from your body. But during that battle with Shadowlaw's forces, you were shot by Genta. You remember that, I'm sure."

Kenneth nodded, recalling what he'd suffered as a result of the gunshot wound, which surprisingly didn't feel like anything. So much adrenaline had been running through his body then that he didn't feel the bullet's penetration. The last thing he remembered was the hatefl sight of Genta's face and

then … and then … he couldn't remember anything at all.

"You wouldn't have bled to death," Craig continued, "and the only way to save you, given our resources at the time, was the Shadow Technology. Katarina carried a sample on her at all times to remind her of the contributions her father made to Shadowlaw without realizing that it would come in handy one day. And we used it to save you."

Kenneth held up a hand, signaling for them to stop speaking. "So you're saying," he said, after a moment of silence, "is that the only reason I'm alive right now is because you put that shit back inside of me after the years and years I wished it would just disappear?" Katarina nodded silently.

"Even after knowing how much I despised carrying it around with me?"

"I'm sorry Kenny …" Craig said.

Kenneth shuddered again, trying to keep a lid on his emotions and it had taken him more than a few seconds to regain control of himself. Hot tears splashed on the table mat where he sat, which didn't go unnoticed by Craig or his wife.

"We thought it would be for the best to not tell you," Katarina said, trying to justify her reasons for not letting him know in the first place. "What was most important to me at the time was that I still had family left to fight for. Shadowlaw had taken away our parents, and they had just killed Aaron. I was determined not to be the last one to carry on our family name. I needed someone to fight for. I needed you."

"You don't just go injecting foreign material into someone without letting them know, Katarina," Kenneth snapped. "And that's just the start of it. Look what the Shadow Technology has produced!"

"I guess I must've done a better job at improving it than I'd expected," she admitted quietly.

Kenneth shook his head. "Me … having that shit in me again is one thing. But my son …" His speech lingered there. "… my son …"

"We should've told you," Craig said, "but we had no idea it would resurface again."

"Telling me wouldn't have changed what's happening now. What's more important to me at this point is how we're going to explain it to Kiennen, and how we're going to get him out of his predicament. The kid already hates me for keeping enough secrets from him." Kenneth opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it right away, knowing it wouldn't be his head talking but his heart. And he didn't want to say anything to offend Katarina in her own home – regardless of whether she deserved it or not. "I can't stay here right now."

As if she understood how he felt, Katarina kept her gaze low and remained unmoving while Kenneth got up from his seat and headed for the door. Craig, on the other hand, was not as complacent. He chased after Kenneth, who was now by the front door, putting his shoes on. "Do you have any idea how far away you live?" he asked, trying to deter him.

"I'll walk." He stomped his left heel on the ground, securely fastening the shoe to his foot.

"Genta could still be around!"

"He's more than welcome to bring it."

"KENNY!" Craig seized him by the upper arms, his face inches away from Kenneth's. "I thought you grew the fuck up. What we did was wrong, I know and I'm sorry. But that doesn't justify you running out of here like an emotional little bitch and getting yourself killed with Genta frolicking around out there when you have Kiennen to think about!!"

"Won't the Shadow Technology take care of it?" Kenneth said smartly, and closed the door behind him.

XXXXX

For the next hour or so, Craig fought the instinct to run after Kenneth. The fact that Genta was somewhere out there nipped at the back of his mind. But Craig tried to justify not running after his brother by reminding himself that Kenneth once served as an information scout on the wrong side of the law, and was adequately armed with hand to hand combat abilities. But Craig also knew he hadn't used it in ten years and was now, to summarize, a businessman. And Genta … he had never stopped training from the moment Craig first met him. So despite his sad attempts at convincing himself that it'd be best if stayed put and let Kenny do as he wished, he knew it wouldn't have been the right thing to do. Then he opened his eyes.

"You're really thinking of going after him, aren't you?" Katarina's voice asked from the darkness.

Craig swallowed a lump in his throat. She probably wouldn't like the answer. "I have to." He felt her hand grasp his, cool to the touch even beneath the covers.

"I was wondering when you were going to come around," she said.

"You were awake this whole time?"

"With your tossing and turning, how could I not be?"

"I'm sorry." The two remained silent for a moment, each one thinking about what to do next.

"I think you should go after him, Crank."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing from her. He had to make sure he was understanding her properly. He had to see her face. Craig reached over and turned on the table lamp, finding Katarina propping her head up with one arm, elbow resting on the pillow, and she was facing him with a sympathetic look on her face. "That's right, I think you should go after him."

He shook his head apologetically, "Thank you for understanding, Kat. I know Kenny hasn't been the nicest guy to you, but he's a good person – really. He cares deeply about those close to him and will sacrifice himself for the people he loves and …"

She placed a finger gently on his lips. "I know. But this isn't about me … for once," she sighed sadly, "for once this isn't for me. I know Kenny doesn't want me in his life, let alone recognize me as his sister. I gave up on trying years ago. I mean that … I can deal with."

"That's not something you should have to deal with," Craig said firmly, contrasted by the gentle touch his rough hands provided on her smooth, pale skin. "Everybody needs a family. You were just trying to find yours."

"But at what cost? It took him seven years for him to acknowledge you again, after I came into your life." The reminder brought up whatever hostility remained in him as a result of Kenneth's stubbornness. He got off the bed suddenly, and walked with heavy footsteps to the bedroom light.

"I never asked to speak with him again," Craig said. "I didn't want to see him again. He hated you so much, he pushed me out of his life with you without even a second thought, when he realized I wouldn't leave your side."

"It's all my …"

"NO!" Craig snapped angrily. "It was Kenny. It still is. It's always been about him. I figured it was just some teenage drama bullshit phase that he would grow out of, but after so long, the fact that he still holds on to these grudges. He's always known how to push my buttons, to get under my skin, and that was the one talent of his I never overcame." Craig held up his index finger angrily, "The one fucking trait of his that always drove me nuts. Even now, he's walking home, probably has blisters all over his feet spilling puss and blood all over the insides of his shoes but you know what? I know he's enjoying it. Because he knows I'm not gonna sleep well knowing he's out there."

"Just a second ago you were saying what a good guy he is."

"I just wish," Craig sighed, and plopped himself back onto the bed, this time in sitting position with his face in his hands, "I wish he wasn't so stubborn. I want him to give you the chance you deserve, like I did. You lost your parents, and later on your twin brother. Kenny's the only family – sorry, blood relative - you have left. And it pisses me off that he can't look beyond his own situation and see the big picture."

"You were angry with him. You would like nothing more than to give two shits about him. But that doesn't change the fact that you grew up together, closer than most siblings do if not for the sheer fact that your survival depended on it. He isn't your sibling but he is your brother like Aaron was mine, and you love him for it. That's why no matter how pissed off you are at him, or how you wish he was the farthest thing from your life, you will always worry about him."

Craig sighed, rubbed his face. "That's the shitty part."

"Look," Kat said, approaching him from behind, wrapping her slender arms around his broad shoulders, "it's not up to you to force Kenny to like me. It's up to me. And admittedly, trying to assassinate him when he was a teen, or injecting the Shadow Technology back into his body without his knowledge or consent, sure doesn't earn me any brownie points. I'm a big girl, I understand what I've done. Worse, I've always been too proud to apologize for it. And that pride contributed to the rift between you two."

"But he …"

"It's the same pride in him, Crank. It's in our genetics. It is the single force behind all our accomplishments, forces us to work hard. Aaron, at twenty three years old was the youngest admiral serving Shadowlaw's military having murdered hundreds with his bare hands, while I took it upon myself to improve on the Shadow Technology to revive Vega without considering the damage it had already done in a premature state. To me, it was nothing more than another medal, another promotion. Kenny is a Feng. He is not exempt from our flaws. You can't accept me despite my pride and abandon Kenny because of his. You know that."

"… I hate you," Craig said, tilting his head back while she gave his neck a soft kiss.

"You wish you did," Kat said smugly, and pulled away. "So what are you going to do about Kenny?"

Craig pressed all his fingertips into his scalp and ran them through his hair in frustration as he realized he was once again being defeated by Kenneth. "I'm going after him."