A wall of hot, humid air hit the travelers as they stepped out of the airport and into the open air. The Thai climate was warm, humid and suffocating to those more accustomed to a cooler, drier climate. The only person affected by the alien atmosphere was Cammy, having lived in Western Europe and the States for most of her life. She began frantically waving her hand at her face and exhaled. Immediately, a coat of sweat had formed on her face and she looked to Ryu and Issei to see if they were experiencing the same discomfort she was. But if they were, they showed little signs of it.
All around them, arriving and departing passengers trudged, sweat dripping down their faces, with their family and friends helping to pull the heavy luggage. Of those fanning their faces to relieve themselves, the women would be waving their hands, causing their elbows to move too, not caring what passerby they might accidentally strike. The men were dabbing their faces with pocket handkerchiefs, The result was an unbearably warm, crowded space with hardly any room to move, ironically enough, at an airport. The road in front of the walkway sported rows upon rows of taxis, all of them waiting to take the weary travelers to their destinations. Every vehicle stood idle with their engines turned on, adding to the already intense heat.
"Are you going to be okay?" Ryu clapped a hand on Issei's shoulder. "Shadowlaw isn't an organization for one man alone to deal with. I have faith in your abilities but …"
"As you should," Issei replied, bowing his head modestly. "I hold a high position with the company. While the higher ups may know that I've turned my back on the organization, I know my subordinates are still loyal to me. We've been through far too much together."
"Do you know where to find Katarina?" Cammy asked, stepping to Ryu's side.
"No," he replied honestly. "But I can make my way around the Shadowlaw base with relative ease. I've been here many times in the past, mostly for training. In any case, I'm due to contact Luwanda later this evening. She's the one Wolfman planted in the base to keep an eye on things and had apparently spotted Katarina just the other day. I won't be going in until it gets dark."
"It doesn't sound like Luwanda or Delta Red to let you handle this by yourself," Cammy noted suspiciously, familiar with the ways her teammates worked. "They have just as much reason to bring down Shadowlaw as you, and I don't think any of them would settle for this being a solo mission."
"They don't know what I plan on doing," Issei replied simply, "they don't know what I can do, and I plan on keeping things that way."
"Well if you do planning on completing this mission on by yourself," Cammy continued, "assuming you manage to survive the scores of Shadowlaw guards, you'll still have to worry about an entire team of jealous Delta Red members. And frankly, I'd hate to be in your shoes." She smirked at the joke, acknowledging the half truth in her words. The expression was reflected in Issei's face.
"Come on, Cammy," Ryu said, taking her by the elbow, "we've got to get checked into the hostels in preparation for the fights. There's no time to train for them either."
"Got it," Cammy said, turning to him. She then refocused her attention on Issei. "Well then, best of luck to you. Don't get yourself killed, you hear? We're counting on you too."
"Loud and clear," Issei replied.
Cammy and Ryu headed for a parked taxi, while Issei took the one waiting directly behind it.
XXXXX
As Chun Li fell from the sky at bone-crushing speeds, only one thought occupied her mind. It wasn't the fact that she was on a collision course with the ground or that she would soon be in a world of physical pain. Nor was it the throbbing emanating through her face from a bruised cheekbone, or her brow that threatened to swell her eye shut. The thought running through her head had a much more profound impact than in the mere physical sense. Her body, with all the damage it had suffered, was threatening to shut down on her, completely destroying any opportunity to restore her honor, to avenge the death of her father at Shadowlaw's hands, and to rob her of the chance of having Bison's blood on her hands.
Chun Li steadfast in her determination to accomplish these goals she had set for herself, goals that would never let her live the rest of her life in peace had they not been met. And if things continued in the manner in which they were, they wouldn't be. Chun Li willed herself not to bite her lip and cry as she hit dirt, but she did from the jarring impact.
The final member of Bison's bodyguard panel stood victoriously over her fallen form, bathing her in his mammoth shadow. Sagat looked pitifully at her from his great height, though there was no indication of pride written on his face. She was just another bug who it was merely his job to crush. Sagat didn't seem to take any pleasure in his job. Everything was merely business. And the fact he didn't even think twice about engaging Chun Li in battle infuriated the Chinese detective. The man had no idea what it meant to her to make it to the final rounds. He didn't consider the torturous training under Master Gen to arm her with the skills she would need to make it in the Street Fighter tournaments. It didn't matter to him the kind of physical or mental agony she went through to get to where she was now and had merely swatted her away like a fly.
She stood slowly, her trembling legs threatening to give out under her and spill her back onto the ground. She commanded her hand to reach up to her face and wipe the trail o f blood dripping down her lip, but it felt like lead.
"No," she told herself, "not now. Not like this." Again, her body wasn't listening. It was like a separate entity doing as it pleased while her brain screamed at it to focus on the task at hand. But there was none of that now, not after Sagat had beaten the obedience out of her limbs, bruised her beyond recognition.
Sagat walked up to her and delivered a swift backhanded slap, throwing her back onto the ground. This time, she couldn't get up. The world was spinning while her entire body throbbed. "No, no, no!" she her brained screamed. But its protests went unheard as she fought against the darkness overtaking her consciousness.
"It isn't you I have a score to settle with," Sagat said without sympathy for her physical pain or her mental agony. "Give up now and save yourself. I don't want to have to kill you. There is no honor in destroying a lesser, undisciplined warrior."
"Undisciplined!" she nearly shrieked with rage, though it only came as a hoarse whisper.
"Hate," Sagat elaborated. "That's what fuels you. Otherwise you wouldn't be throwing caution to the wind, letting your heart take control over your head. That why you allow yourself to feel in battle. That's why you allow yourself to lose."
How dare this man accuse her of letting herself lose in battle? Above all things, this was not what she wanted! He was the one who put her in this state! He was the one who … kicked her ass. She suddenly felt small compared to Sagat, in more than just stature – the man was literally a giant at over seven feet tall and nearly three hundred pounds of bulging muscle. Now he was lecturing her on a warrior's mental state, or at least how one should feel in a fight, which according to Sagat, was nothing at all.
But how could Chun Li not feel anything with all that was at stake? She was well aware of what losing the tournament meant. Then she thought about it again, somehow, as she felt another wave of unconsciousness approaching. Maybe it was because she was so aware of everything outside the fight that she had allowed herself to lose in the first place. Maybe she wasn't in the appropriate frame of mind to win the battle. Sagat's words were starting to make some sense to her, which made her even angrier that she had been outsmarted by someone so evil to be in such an elevated position with Shadowlaw. The way he spoke was reminiscent of Ryu's own lectures given to her numerous times past.
The defeat had evoked an intolerable variety of emotions within her. Anger at her opponent, disappointment in herself, bitterness in lost opportunity, sadness that her father's death would never be avenged …
She let her dead drop to the ground and stared up at the blue sky, barely feeling the humid air against her clammy skin. She caught the tips of the row of palm trees to the right, and the toes of a giant reclining Buddha to the right. Her body still hurt, but the pain was lessening. A soft breeze blew through the grass she lay on, tickling her wounds, distracting her from the multiple bruises and fractures she endured. The odd mix of scene's serenity and her pain put her at ease. There would be no more torture. Sagat had finished, and he was letting her rest. The dying hope of her previously undying determination gave way to her weakness of her mortal being. Her one eye closed – the other had already swollen shut. Just a short nap, after which she could wake up and continue training and defeat Sagat in due time, and eventually make her way to Bison. This might have been a failed attempt. Yes, maybe she wasn't ready. But that didn't mean she never would be. She wouldn't give up in her quest. Chun Li could see her future unfolding before her eyes – crushing Sagat before moving on and literally ripping Bison's head from his shoulders. But that would come after a short nap. Just five minutes or so.
A distant voice called out to her in desperation. But she ignored it and went peacefully to sleep.
"Just a few minutes," she told the voice, though it was so quiet, she would have never been heard. But Chun Li didn't care. "Just a few minutes."
XXXXX
"You're gonna have to excuse the mess," Kenny explained, feeling a little embarrassed as he stabbed the key into the lock of his basement suite just a ten minute commute from downtown Osaka. "I don't mind if you crash here for as long as you need to, but you're gonna have to move the …"
"…piles of dirty laundry," Cranky frowned, upon laying his eyes on the condition of the living room. Wrinkled clothes were strewn all over the floor and furniture. There was a low table in front of a small thirteen inch Toshiba television set. Crushed aluminum cans of coffee and beer littered the tabletop and spilled down to the space around the four legs. Short piles of dirty dishes were stacked carelessly on either side of a futon tinted in a rainbow of hues in such a disorganized, random manner that which had Cranky doubting the furnishing actually came that way. "You're a pig," he said, picking up a pair of dirty socks left on the dining table.
"Beats a cardboard box," Kenny replied, shrugging. "You can have the futon tonight. That's the cleanest place to rest your head here."
"Really?" Cranky asked, eyeing the piece of questionable furniture surrounded by litter and dirty dishes. "What about you?"
"I got the bedroom," Kenny said. "It's been awhile since I've been in there anyway." Cranky shot him a questioning look. "The mess kicked me out." Cranky merely shook his head, unable to find the right words to express his disbelief. "You want something to drink? I have water and some beer in the fridge, which reminds me, I have to pick some more up tomorrow."
"I'm not listening…" Cranky said, walking off to explore the filthy surroundings even more. He wasn't going to hear about his kid brother drinking beer. Sure, Kenny was a teenager now, and hell, Cranky had started drinking when he was younger than Kenny now! But to him, Kenny would always and forever be a kid. The level of tidiness in this place, or lack thereof, proved it all the more. His path eventually led him to the fridge to which he'd been initially invited to in the first place.
He opened the door to find days-old pre-made sushi from the corner store, bottled tea and some old pizza. The beer was on the lowest shelf on the fridge door with four cans remaining.
"Well if you're not having any," Kenny said, opening the patio sliding door, "throw me one anyway. But if you feel like it, you can have some too. Wanna join me for a smoke?"
Cranky reluctantly reached for a can, wrapped his fingers around the cold aluminum and fought against the instinct to not let Kenny have his own alcoholic beverage. "Let go," he forced himself to remember what he told himself earlier with Cammy, "let go. He's not a kid. It's okay. He's responsible enough." Cranky slapped on a fake smile to mask his disapproving frown and grabbed a can in each hand.
Five minutes later, Kenny and Cranky were sitting on the patio looking out onto the busy Osaka streets and the beers were cracked open. The brothers each took a cool, refreshing swig, tossing their heads back. Kenny let out a mammoth belch, pulled out a cigarette and lit it up.
"You know, this could be a nice place," Cranky noted as he stared out onto the street, "if you cleaned up a little. The view you have here is really ... What's the word? … Tranquil."
"We're on the ground level," Kenny said, cocking a brow, wondering what Cranky was getting at.
"This little patio is kinda nice." And indeed it was at least a little quaint, with a cluster of baby bamboo shoots tied together with gold string, sitting in a small Chinese porcelain pot resting on a cherry wood stand in the corner of the patio. They were fenced in by a wooden partition separating the property from the rest of the world. There was a miniature rock garden in a rectangular marble trough lined on the sides with Bonsai trees set into the right wall. It was low enough that it could have been used as a seat, if not for the delicate pebble and gravel formations, giving the patio a very Zen-like feel. "You like it here?"
Kenny shrugged. "It's alright, I guess," he admitted. "The place itself is a hole, and no, not all of it is my mess. But it's convenient. It's close to the late night convenient store, and the okonomiyaki joint where I work. SHIT! WORK!" Kenny's eyes went wide – his young heart threatened to stop beating and it wasn't because of his smoking. "Oh my fucking GOD, Mr. Takayama's gonna kill me!"
"I'm sure he'll understand all the bullshit you've been through," Cranky reassured him.
"Yeah, and what'll I tell him? 'I was kidnapped, underwent a illegal, agonizing operation, got into a car crash, got beaten up by a sister I never knew I had, nearly got shot in the head by a brother I never knew I had, and topped it off with lunch with a transvestite bell boy.' Who the hell would believe that?"
"You had lunch with a transvestite bellboy?"
"Yeah, yesterday," Kenny said. "He just came to change the sheets in Cammy's suite and commented on how good the food smelled so I gave it to him."
"Are you talking about the breakfast I made you? I put a lot of effort into that!"
"I wasn't hungry. I was in pain."
"Well if you don't eat, how the hell do you expect to get better? You hadn't eaten a proper meal in so long and nearly got killed! Your body was probably starved of nutrition! And instead, you just pass off the food you need over to some …"
"Ok whoa there!" Kenny interrupted, putting up a hand. "At least your efforts didn't go to waste, right?"
"That's not the point!" Cranky shook his head. "Jesus, Kenny, I honestly don't know what to do with you sometimes." He took an angry swig of beer and set it back down on the bistro table a little harder than he intended. "Did he at least like it?"
"Oh yeah," Kenny nodded. "He had a lot of questions about you and Cammy too."
This peaked Cranky's curiosity. "What could he possibly have wanted to know?"
"Oh, come on! Cammy's a Street Fighter. I bet she's starting to get her own fan base now! He was probably just one of them, and asked if she had a boyfriend. Then I thought about you and your possessive, overprotective complex and flat out told him it'd be in his best interest to not make a move on Cammy. He seemed heartbroken though. Didn't even change the sheets in the end, the little pisser. Probably went off to put on more makeup on his face or something. Yeah, he was a strange one, alright. Vega … who the hell names themselves after a fucking star? From now on, Cranky, you can be Polaris, and I'll be …"
"Did you say Vega!" Cranky suddenly said, knocking the table so hard, it nearly toppled. But he was oblivious to the pain throbbing in his elbow.
"Yes, yes, I did," Kenny replied, stabilizing the table, "and don't break my bistro patio set. Cost me a fortune, this thing."
"He didn't fucking touch you, did he?"
"Ease up, Crank," Kenny replied, "he was weird, yeah, but he didn't do anything. And thinking about it now, that was part of the problem. I had to change the damn sheets and make the bed by myself and …"
"Stay the hell away from that maniac," Cranky said. "Listen to me." He grasped Kenny firmly by the shoulders. "That guy wasn't a bell boy. He's a crazy …" Then he thought about the promise he made to Colonel Wolfman and Chun Li. He would keep Vega's existence from Cammy. But knowing how open the communication lines were between Kenny and her, Cranky would have to keep the news from his own brother as well. "He's a crazy drug addict," he fibbed. "He was a member of one of the rival gangs back in the day when we were on the street."
"Whoa …" Kenny's eyes were wide and he was silenced, believing Cranky's lie. "That's harsh. Maybe he wanted to come back and get revenge on you or something." Cranky chewed away at his lip to numb the stab of guilt he felt for the lie. But it was for the greater good.
"No, that's not it. Forget about Vega. But next time you see him, don't stick around. Just walk the hell away, run if you have to. Am I clear?"
"Christ, I can take care of …"
"I said, am I clear!"
"… yeah …"
"Good."
Kenny exhaled sharply and abruptly stood from his seat, walking over to the railing where he stared out onto the streets. Second hand smoke spewed from his mouth and seemed to mix with the car exhaust in the air. "What you did back there at the Osaka Dome," Kenny began, "when you defended me from Issei, that was nice, and, well, I just … I'm thankful – I mean …" The words weren't coming out properly. Kenny's gratitude was immense, but couldn't seem to figure out how to voice it without making himself look defenseless, in need of protection, reliant.
"I did what I wanted to do," Cranky replied directly. "Granted, I thought it was Cammy at first. But when I saw you, it didn't make things any better. So … you're welcome." He'd saved Kenny from having to verbalize his gratitude.
"Oh, Katarina was handling Cammy inside the ward."
"Which made the situation twice as bad."
"And that was what made you fight like some kind of karate expert?"
"I'm not a karate expert."
"I know what I saw," Kenny insisted. "You handled Issei - a Shadowlaw Admiral, trained in multiple fighting styles, without breaking a sweat."
"Issei is all muscle," Cranky said, dismissing the fact like it had meant nothing. "He might be skilled, but I noticed he relied more on his brawn than any of his abilities. I'm the same way, having never worn a karate uniform. That's why I was able to take him on."
Kenny nodded slightly, understanding what he was being told, though he never took his eyes off the distant headlights moving along the road. "I've never seen you open a can of ass-whooping like that before."
"And quite frankly," Cranky countered, "I'm surprised you even noticed, with all that six-shooting you were doing back there. You took out his guards, who would've probably put a bullet in my back before I could throw a punch. You saved my life too, Kenny."
"Well," Kenny shrugged, feeling his face start to redden, "I couldn't let them lay a finger on my big brother, could I?"
Cranky smiled, impressed with Kenny's resolve, and the skill he displayed. "Where'd you learn to shoot like that?"
"I didn't walk out of the Raccoon City disaster alive by sheer luck, you know. It was learning how to use a gun, or die."
"Your parents would have been proud," Cranky said. "I know I am."
"Okay, stop that," Kenny said, feeling a little embarrassed. "Like you, I was only doing what I wanted to do, okay?" He shook his head and took another drag from the cigarette, analyzing his own accomplishments. He'd learned a lot in the six month time frame between the Raccoon City incident and his return to Osaka for the Street Fighter tournaments. Protecting himself against those who wanted his head was starting to come naturally to him and while initially, his skill could've been attributed to the Shadow Technology working inside him, Kenny knew now that wasn't the case, since the technology had been removed – painfully – from his body.
Maybe that was what Ryu meant when referred to Kenny's "skill" back at the hospital. Ryu hadn't implied the artificial abilities the Technology endowed him with, though Kenny thought he was at the time. If his talent at survival and his ability to stare danger right in the face and laugh was natural, where the hell could he have gotten it from? It was something he had in common with Issei, a strong link to support everyone's claims about them being blood brothers. But they must've have gotten it from their parents. However as far as Kenny knew, their father was a scientist and their mother a stay-at-home wife, and an ex high school teacher.
"Hey, Crank?" Kenny asked out of the blue, breaking the silent moment.
"Yeah?" Cranky replied, having been pulled from his own thoughts, whatever they were.
"My mom raised you, didn't she?"
"Yeah." He smiled his memory of Shao Mei Feng. "She was the most incredible woman in my life."
"Can you tell me," Kenny requested, his words suggesting an air of curiosity, "what were my mom and dad like?"
XXXXX
"Chun Li!" Ryu cried, though he didn't think she could hear him. The Interpol agent was nothing but a bloody heap of meat on the ground. His cry had caught Sagat's attention as he looked over her unconscious body. Ryu's mouth filled with the bitter taste of disgust as he took in the scene, a giant man of Sagat's proportions standing over the battered body of a petite woman. Unlike the Thai warrior, Ryu had a good idea of what Chun Li's last moments of consciousness were like. He knew how driven she was to take down Shadowlaw. Her intentions agreed with his, though her motivations did not. He could understand if she had suffered an intolerable amount of hatred before closing her eyes to rest – not the best way to get to sleep. And he doubted it was her brain that had invoked the sleep; more like her defeated body. Sagat must have beaten her up considerably, since Ryu was well aware of the woman's determination to bring down Shadowlaw. In fact, he didn't think desperation was too extreme a word to describe it.
"She had no chance," Sagat said, noticing Ryu.
Ryu agreed, though he refused to say anything that might imply he had anything in common with the warrior. "Neither do you," Ryu said, "if this is how you plan on regaining the honor you lost during our last battle."
"Well do tell me then, how I may regain that honor, if it isn't to beat the stuffing out of you, Master?" Sagat retorted, his words thick with sarcasm.
"So this is what happens to the champion of Muay Thai when he loses," Ryu said, hoping to rile Sagat up. Chun Li had been defeated by allowing her emotions to get the better of her, and he was hoping Sagat would make the same mistake. "He lets himself become a puppet. And if that isn't dishonorable enough, it's Shadowlaw who he allows to manipulate him."
"There was no other way to find you," Sagat defended himself. "They were the only ones resourceful enough to track down a cowardly hermit, such as yourself."
"I have been training for this meeting, Sagat," Ryu explained. "I may have defeated you before, but as the years pass, as I gain experience from every battle I participate in, I become more and more convinced that my victory was achieved through sheer luck. You want a rematch, as I have been eager for one too. You want to regain your honor by defeating the opponent who defeated you, who scarred you physically and emotionally. And I want to defeat you again – through skill, this time."
"Then let us not waste a moment longer."
Sagat crouched low and pumped both his fists forward. Ryu could see the projectile attack coming from a mile away and jumped high to avoid the attack. But he didn't hear Sagat's declaration of the move, and it registered instantly that the "attack" had been a feigned one, its only purpose to set Ryu up for a counterattack. But by the time the Shotokan warrior realized this, it was too late for him. He was already sailing in a diagonal parabola to deliver a flying kick into the Muay Thai warrior's eye-patched face.
"Tiger Uppercut!" Sagat threw his arm upwards and launched himself higher into the air than his stature and bulk may have suggested. Ryu was bettered with hits from his lower abdomen all the way to his chin from the one move Sagat executed. His body was thrown left and right with the impacts until he spiraled out of control until gravity reclaimed his body and pulled him to the ground.
An amateur would have been either disoriented or knocked out cold. But a seasoned warrior like Ryu was able to regain his balance even as he fell, upside down, and in midair. Ryu regained control by using the momentum gained from his fall, twisting his body expertly, his headband whipping around him in the wind, and landed silently on his feet. Never losing a beat in the fight, Ryu fought back with a roundhouse sweep aimed low, to take Sagat off his feet. Sagat blocked, refusing to open himself up to a counterattack. Ryu switched it up, attacking high this time, with a downward punch, his collarbone breaker. Sagat parried the first hit but wasn't anticipating the second hit, coming from Ryu's elbow, which cracked him atop his bald head.
Sagat was stunned by the blow, allowing the opening Ryu had been trying to achieve, and launched himself into a dragon uppercut. Now it was the Muay Thai warrior's turn to get knocked senseless into the air. At the peak of his jump, Ryu executed a hurricane kick, extending a leg and spun his body, letting his foot connect with Sagat's head and chest for a four hit combination attack.
"How can you hope to achieve true victory," Ryu asked his opponent as Sagat struggled to get back to his feet, "when you have surrendered yourself to the whims of M. Bison? You are no longer your own man, but a mere puppet, no better than the Dolls who Bison once controlled."
Sagat shot off a projectile attack, the same one he had opened the fight with, but Ryu blocked the concentrated ball of chi effortlessly. "Don't underestimate me, Ryu," Sagat said. "I have not lost a sense of myself, unlike the Dolls had."
"It makes no difference when you have lost the ability to make your own decisions."
"Tiger Raid!" Sagat was on the offensive now, delivering a crouching kick, jumped back up and performed a spinning roundhouse and a forward kick with the opposing leg, then launched himself at Ryu, leg first, like a multi-hitting missile. The succession of multiple hits broke through Ryu's defenses, rendering him vulnerable. Sagat took the chance to throw more fireballs in Ryu's direction. The first one hit the Shotokan warrior flat in the face, the second one in the chest, though he was able to recover in time to block the third.
Sagat wasted no more time and continued pressing against Ryu and the pair began trading blows. Ryu ate a punch to the jaw, countered with a left and right hook, socking Sagat once in the nose, who delivered a rib crunching knee assault, had that blocked while Ryu executed a mule kick connecting twice. They fought expertly, neither one seemingly about to give way anytime soon, moving around the statue of the reclining Buddha, Chun Li's unconscious body, and the row of palm trees in a deadly martial arts dance. Their deft, expert movements stirred the air around them from a gentle breeze into a heavy wind, kicking up dead leaves and dust in their wake.
For Sagat, this was the fight he had been waiting for, to regain his honor. For Ryu, the fight he currently engaged in with Sagat was also a milestone for his life as a warrior, testing him against a worthy rival for the second time in his life, and was simultaneously just another road block in his quest to bring Shadowlaw down. There was no describing the symbolic significance this encounter had with him.
XXXXX
Issei reached into a pocket of his black, loose pants made of a light, silent material, and pulled out a piece of fabric of the same hue. Unfolding it, the fabric would be recognizable as a facial shroud which he wrapped tightly around his face, revealing only his narrow eyes. Issei looked like a ninja, with everything from the two-toed boots, wrist guards, mask, and a samurai sword strapped to his back. Sure, the ninjas of medieval Japan rarely carried samurai swords, but being trained in various forms of combat, Issei had no problem wielding it no matter what costume he donned. There was only one shade to Issei's broad, muscular form – which was the only physical aspect that suggested he may have been more than a ninja - and that was the darkest black. The material looked as if it had been layered with multiple coats of Indian ink.
Dusk was slowly beginning to settle in the humid Thai weather and he was beginning to feel a coat of sweat form on his forehead and on his lower back. He had long ago grown accustomed to heat and knew it wouldn't hinder his mission tonight, though he never liked it anyway – just learned to deal with it. He extracted a walkie-talkie from the dark sash tied around his waist and activated it.
"Luwanda, come in," he whispered. Issei had to be careful to keep his voice low, not wanting to risk detection from the pair of Shadowlaw guards posted at the temple entrance. They were patrolling a square platform, above the center of which hung a giant bell. Issei laid low in the bushes about thirty meters away, adjusting the dial on his communication device. "Repeat, Luwanda, come in!" he said again, more urgently this time.
"Luwanda here," came the reply, finally, after a few tense seconds that seemed to him like an eternity. "Sorry for making you wait, Aaron, but I had to wait for the coast to be clear."
"Where are you?" he asked, ignoring her excuses.
"At the bottom level," she said, "by the prisoner cells. I've managed to locate Katarina's cell, thanks to Ginzu's hacking efforts. She's around here somewhere. But you better get down here ASAP, and I'm not joking. I don't think I'm supposed to be down here and if the guards catch me, I'll be escorted out."
"Relax, I know the way down," Issei assured her. "Besides, you can always engage the guards if it comes down to that."
"Yeah, but I'm not in the mood to start shit up, especially when you're not here to back me up."
"Can you find my sister? Is she okay?"
"I haven't found her yet," Luwanda reported. "I'm looking into the cells – literally – as we speak, and I'm trying to find the same woman I saw brought to the compound just the other day. I still have a pretty good idea of what she looks like."
"When you find her, please help keep her safe until I get there," Issei pleaded, something he'd rarely done before with anyone in his life. "I should make my way there within the next ten to fifteen minutes."
"Just hurry your ass up," Luwanda repeated. "I'm doing everything in my power to remain undetected, but this definitely won't last forever."
"I'm on my way. Over and out." Issei shut off the walkie talkie and shut it off before placing it back in his sash. He wasn't going to risk any messages coming through, opening him up to Shadowlaw's detection. He reached into the pockets containing the throwing stars and held two of them between the grooves of his fingers. With an expert flick, he sent the sharp, deadly pieces of razor metal slicing silently through the air, downing the guards swiftly and quietly. They dropped to the ground, dead, without so much as a scream. Before making his way out of the bushes, he let his eyes scan the surrounding areas for anymore guards he may have missed. When he determined the coast clear, Issei tiptoed towards the fallen guards and removed their rifles and ammunition. The semi-automatics were a much to big for him to carry and remain silent, so he settled for their handguns and combat knives instead, tucking each firearm alongside the walkie-talkie, and hid each knife in a boot. Then he continued onward.
Within the faux Thai temple, Issei found the secret entrance to the lower levels of the base behind the altar centered in the main hall. The walls of the interior were decorated with elaborately carved spirals made of gold placed in the four corners of the giant worshipping space, and ancient Buddhist scriptures hanging against the walls on scrolls. The air inside smelled vaguely of oriental incense, a scent that reminded him of the early days he spent here training to become a worthy soldier for Shadowlaw so that he would one day be able to meet his father, something Bison himself had promised Issei. Remembering the promise, Issei grew bitter and resentful with Bison's lies. Dr. Feng, the man Issei had longed to meet his whole life, the man he trained hard for to be able to meet face to face one day had actually died long before Bison even made him the promise. The lies had brought out the best in the soldier's capabilities, but the pain that resulted upon finding out his father had been dead for nine years wasn't worth turning into the man he had become. A cold blooded murderer whose one objective for all he did could never be met.
And the fact that he blamed Dr. Feng's death on Kenny, fully expecting me to kill the only blood relative I have besides Katarina … Issei grew angrier the longer he dwelled on his past and had to force himself to focus on the task at hand. Bison had ruined his family, killed his father, turned the surviving siblings on one another, siblings that needed each other in times of need – Bison's lies couldn't be forgiven. Yet, Issei wasn't sure if killing Bison with his bare hands would satisfy the rage in him. The death would take little more than a minute, perhaps five if Bison was strong enough to hold on for that much longer. It was nowhere near the amount of suffering and the time spent in that kind of torture that he and Katarina had endured, and perhaps Kenny too.
Issei crept through the lower levels of the base, navigating the complicated maze of metallic corridors as if he was going for a stroll in the park – except for the fact that he had kept to the shadows, hiding in them whenever footsteps approached. Usually, the off duty guards were intoxicated at this time of the night and would take no notice of his shadowy form hiding where the pools of light from overhead fluorescent bulbs failed to provide adequate lighting. Most guards stumbled by without even taking a glance in his direction but those who wandered dangerously close were taken out efficiently with a quick snap of the neck. Most of them were shorter than Issei, and much smaller build, though they were by no means unable-bodied men. So far his luck had held out. Not a single scream had filled the quiet corridors, not a single bullet fired. But he hurried on nonetheless, realizing that it'd only be a matter of time when someone would stumble across the corpses Issei had left in his wake.
Issei heard more footsteps headed right for him as he approached his destination, where Luwanda said she was holding out for him. He was now on the bottom level, leaping silently down flights of stairs, lowering his body from one level to the next with superior upper body strength, as opposed to taking the flights down. Now that he had exited the emergency stairwell – which was a far smarter alternative to the industrial elevators used for transporting platoons and oversized equipment for the scientific departments – he was on the lowest level, and noted how the scenery had changed. As if the lighting hadn't been dim enough on the higher levels, the incandescent bulbs were more sparsely spread out here, offering more shadows for him to hide in. The unmistakable scent of moister, mold and decay assaulted his senses and Issei fought against his reaction to vomit. As wealthy an organization as Shadowlaw was, they had spent little to no money on the maintenance of the prison cells not because they couldn't afford it, but because they wanted capitalize on their prisoners having an extremely shitty experience here. Issei hadn't been down here very often before and hadn't bothered to memorize the layout. And it was hard enough to get a sense of where he was going stumbling around in this darkness. He crept close to the walls, getting a feel for the grooves he hoped would serve as a landmark, but gave up after realizing the walls were consistent in their rough texture, and how moist they were to the touch. The moisture had soaked through his black fabric gloves and onto his skin.
The footsteps were getting closer now and Issei pressed his back against the wall, trying to ignore the moisture seeping through his clothes and onto his back. The steps were light, suggesting that whoever it was had a build smaller than that of the soldiers he had already taken out. Hold on a minute, there were two kinds of steps here – a light one, and a much heavier one. He cautiously reached into his boot and pulled out one of the combat knives he'd taken off the guards at the temple entrance and waited.
In the dim light, Issei failed to see the soldiers coming and something brushed up against his arm. One of the soldiers cried out in surprise and Issei wasted no time in taking him down. He slashed at the larger soldier's throat, opening up a wide gash in this throat, severing his vocal cords. The soldier gripped at his throat, unable to scream, as thick, hot blood sprayed out from the wound, leaking from between his tightly clasped fingers while he died silently. Issei focused his attention on the smaller soldier and lashed out again.
This smaller soldier was a lot quicker and expertly dodged the otherwise fatal stab. The quick movement loosened the helmet on his head, indicating that it hadn't been strapped in the first place, and Issei saw the young face staring back at him – the familiar face of a Japanese boy taken in by Shadowlaw just four years prior, rescuing the little deviant from a life of jail in the Osaka prisons. The youth had a violent streak living on Osaka's streets. He wasn't a petty thief like most of the other street children – this one had severe problems, and had resorted to mugging people, and murdering the uncooperative individuals who served as his victims regardless of age, sex or race. Bison had personally hand picked the violent child, recognizing the twisted potential in him that could be nurtured into something far greater. And one of Issei's tasks had been to help with that growth.
"Genta!" Issei cried with surprise. Of course, he should have recognized the boy earlier, having served as his mentor. But now, staring at the dark, dead, narrow eyes of the youth who looked back fearfully at him – the first emotional expression Issei could ever remembering registering on the face of that fifteen year old boy, he suddenly felt a stab of guilt … like he had betrayed Genta, the young man who so eagerly followed in his footsteps.
Genta threw himself to the ground, pressing his forehead into the ground at Issei's feet. "Sensei!" he cried in a weak, voice, a tone that only Issei himself had ever heard coming from his lips. "W…what happened to you? Everybody was so worried about you!" The youth then fixed his eyes over to his fallen comrade, who Issei now recognized as Tran, a Vietnamese recruit who was at least two to three levels below him. Genta continued, confused by his Master's actions. "What have you done to Master Tran…?" He was struggling to contain his terror, unsure of how else to comprehend what his young mind had just witnessed. So in Issei's absence, they had Tran replace him as Genta's Master.
"Listen to me," Issei said, pointing the knife away from his young protégé and helped him back to his feet. He bent down on one knee to look the youth in the eye, or at least as best as he could in this light, taking him by the elbows to keep his arms by his side. "Genta, I want you to leave this organization as soon as you get the chance. Shadowlaw is in danger and I don't want you getting caught up in it. Take the emergency elevator to the surface and run as far as you can."
"Sensei," Genta said, his voice still quavering, "I don't understand what's going on."
"It's better that you don't," Issei said, cutting his explanation short. "Just do as I say, okay?" Genta snapped a salute without questioning his superior's orders, completely unaware that Issei had defected, and ran off as he had been told. If Issei had been able to perform a good deed tonight, this was it as he continued on his way toward Luwanda's most recent location.
He found her standing in a pool of shadow, hiding just as Issei had been, in front of what appeared to be a random cell door. Luwanda turned to look at him, alarmed by his presence at first, but upon seeing that Issei wasn't garbed in the traditional suit of armor provided to Shadowlaw's soldiers, she seemed to calm down a little, in her army fatigues and red beret, though she kept her guard up.
"Who are you?" she asked
"It's me," Issei replied, "Aaron Feng. I believe this is the first time we've ever met face to face."
"You can never be too careful," Luwanda said, lowering the firearm she had trained on him up to that point. "I've located the cell according to the information Ginzu provided me with, though I don't have the clearance to get the door open."
"Hopefully they haven't changed the codes," Issei said, approaching the numeric keypad attached to the walls beside the door. He hit a series of buttons, each one producing a soft, high pitched electronic ping before the locks released with a hiss. Despite the shabby décor of the prison floor, the quality of their security devices was top notch, though Issei was left wondering why they hadn't bothered changing the codes when Shadowlaw was well aware that he would probably return for his sister. He turned to Luwanda as he grasped the handle of the cell door, pushing it inwards, allowing him entry into the cell. "Stay here and watch the door," he said. "I'll be right out." Luwanda nodded without saying anything while Issei entered.
The cell looked like some kind of medieval prison with a cobblestone flooring and straw provided for bedding. A dirty toilet with poor plumbing sat in the far left corner towards the back of the room, emitting a fowl odor. At the far right corner was a bed of straw for prisoners to rest, though no blanket was provided. Despite the heat in this part of the world, they were far enough underground for the temperature to drop to a cooler level. Upon the straw bed, to Issei's slight surprise lay two unmoving human forms.
He approached the closer one, who he immediately recognized as his sister, trying to ignore the wave of relief that washed over him. He approached Katarina and put his hand on her shoulder, trying to rouse her from her sleep. Despite the less than adequate lighting, the blood and bruises on her usually immaculate complexion were clear. She was suffering from a black eye and a broken lip. Her usually neatly kept hair lay around her head in a tangled mess. He shook her lightly but there was no response.
"Please help her," the other human form begged, who Issei saw was a prepubescent boy, a few years younger than Genta. The boy brushed his dark curly bangs away from his brow to clear his vision and crawled towards Katarina and looked helplessly at Issei, tears forming in his wide, cerulean blue eyes. "She helped comfort me while they kept me here," the boy continued, "made everything less scary."
"What did they do to her?" Issei demanded.
"The other day, when they brought her here," the boy explained, tears starting to fall from recalling the recent events the occurred before Issei's arrival, "she was telling me a story about her past. She said her brother was going to come and rescue us from here. Are you … are you Aaron?"
Issei was floored and touched at his sister's faith in him after all this time. Their contact with each other while under the tutelage of Shadowlaw's masters was little at best, yet it was good to see that their bond as fraternal twins had not been shattered even under the most testing circumstances. "Y…yes," Issei replied.
The boy threw himself into Issei's arms and began sobbing desparately. "They came!" he cried, terrified. Issei didn't know where he got the instinct to wrap his arms around the boy's small, trembling shoulders to comfort him. Someone so young, held prisoner for no reason he could possibly aware of must have been a terrifying experience. Issei remembered when he himself was around the same age, when they had kept him and his sister in similar cells before being recruited into Shadowlaw's ranks, though he had fought hard to suppress those memories in the farthest recesses of his memory. "They came and beat her up!" the boy continued to sob. "I … I tried to stop them, but I couldn't do anything! I tried, Aaron-sir, I really tried!"
"Shh …" Issei said, "I know you did. I believe you. There wasn't much you could have done anyway." He pulled the boy away from his body, who had seemed to calmed a little from his presence. "Thank you for looking out for my sister though." Issei tousled his hair affectionately. "I really appreciate it. Now what do you say we get you guys out of here, huh?" The boy nodded enthusiastically as Issei wiped the tears from his tender face with a coarse thumb. "You know my name. Now why don't you tell me yours?"
"M…my name is Dorian," the boy replied. "Dorian Marquez."
"AAAHH!" Their conversation was interrupted Luwanda's scream coming from outside the cell.
"Luwanda!" Issei cried, momentarily forgetting about Dorian. He heard her limp body hit the door and slump to the ground. Getting to his feet, Issei rushed to the door and pulled it open, thankful that it hadn't closed on him. Otherwise it'd have locked him in with Katarina and Dorian. It was Luwanda's injured body, now leaking blood from a stab wound, that had kept the door held open for him.
"What the …"
"I'm sorry, Aaron," she apologized to him weakly. "I … I didn't see them coming …"
"What's going on out there?" Dorian cried, rushing to the door.
"NO!" Issei ordered. "You stay right there! I'll take care of this!" He looked for Luwanda's attackers but didn't have to look far. Standing just a few feet away, tossing a combat knife identical to the ones Issei had taken off the guards was Genta, with a smirk spread across his young face. He was flanked by three backup Shadowlaw soldiers, their faces hidden behind visors attached to their sleek, black combat helmets. All three of stood behind Genta, semi-automatic rifles pointed directly at Issei.
"You were a fool to let me run off like that, Sensei," Genta boasted. "I'd given you too much credit. I didn't think you'd fall into an obvious trap such as this one."
"You … you traitor!" Issei cried.
"I'm the pot, and you're the fucking kettle," Genta retorted. "You don't think Shadowlaw's been hunting the damned globe for your ugly head, especially after what you and Katarina have done? By coming here, you've spelled your own doom. I fully expected you to stay far away, to let Katarina die. After all, you were the one who taught me that we can't afford to waste our time on our petty obligations on others, especially in time of battle. If we all did that, the mission objective would never be achieved. But alas, going back on your word – looks like all this time, you went against your own teachings and proved yourself a fool from the beginning."
XXXXX
"Your mother …" Cranky couldn't figure out where to begin answering Kenny's question. "Her name was Shao Mei – a very kind woman, committed to raising kids as best as she could."
"What was she like?"
"Well …" Cranky scratched at his head, trying to recall what he remembered of the only other woman besides Cammy who he held close to his heart, though the memory of her was a lot less clear after all the time had passed. "It was the children that were the most dear to her, besides you and your father, of course. I'd never seen her break a sweat when doing the chores at home while your father was at work. Those were during the times I came over to have lunch with her and I'd help her clean up. I think Mei was lonely while Dr. Feng was off at work all day and night. So she kept herself busy by taking care of you and cleaning up the house."
"But if Dad was busy at work," Kenny said, crinkling his brow as he took another drag, "who would have messed it up?"
"You shat like a little bitch," Cranky replied.
Kenny turned a deep shade of red, noticeable even in the night.
"She started taking ikebana classes in the afternoon at the local university – flower arranging – but by that time I was old enough to take care of you. I never told Mei this, but while she was in class, I took you down to the playground near the outskirts of town, in the bad area to Kaneyama Park."
"Haha!" Kenny laughed. "You took me to the bad parts of town knowing there'd be trouble there! You were an asshole even back then!"
"Oh, I'd smack you so hard right now if you remembered anything about that time at all!" Cranky countered. "I never wanted to take you there, but you'd always scream, cry, whine and beg until you got what you wanted. And, may I add, that your tantrums haven't gotten any better. Now that I think of it – Mei was good. She knew exactly when the terrible twos would hit and dumped you on me when the moment was right."
"So I take it I loved that park, huh?"
"There was a swing set there made out of those rusty chains, not those cheap ass rubber ones like they make them right now. And every afternoon it was always 'Kaneyama ni onegai!', without fail. To Kaneyama Park, please. I'd say no. 'I said please!' you'd insist. Then I'd say no again. 'PLEEEEEASE?'" Cranky was mocking Kenny's cries as a kid, a time that he couldn't remember and Cranky seemed to be the only one impressed with his acting ability.
"You're not funny."
"And if that didn't work," Cranky continued, "you'd turn on the water works. If I resisted still, then came the screaming. I'd always give in at the end, but even still, as punishment for refusing in the first place, you'd always like to play 'shadow' on our way over there."
"Hahaha!" Kenny chuckled. "Only the most annoying game in the world!"
"But Mei found out what we'd been up to one day a few weeks later."
"How?"
"When I got beaten up by a bunch of motorcycle gang wannabes, a bunch of kids around my age … That's not a time I'm sure you'd like to recall."
"What happened that day?" Kenny pressed, proving Cranky's claims wrong.
He sighed. "They attacked me when I was pushing you on the swing set," Cranky explained. "One guy came up behind me and tried to crack me over the head baseball bat, but I managed to dodge. It hit my shoulder though, and I fractured a bone. They …" Cranky faltered, the trauma of the experience suddenly resonating in him. "They told me to leave the country; that they didn't want to see me in Japan again. They called me a 'pale ghost'. It doesn't sound so bad in English, but when translated into Japanese …"
"I know," Kenny said, understanding completely.
"Looking back, they were about to commit a hate crime."
"What about me? I was a foreigner too."
"And you think they could tell? You were as fluent in Japanese as a two year old could be, and you're Chinese – don't look that much different. But it didn't matter to the gangsters. While I wrestled with them on the ground, three against one, a fourth one came and pushed you higher on the swing but you weren't laughing happily anymore. You were terrified. He pushed you so high that you were launched off the swing. You could've gotten hurt, but luckily, you were only bruised. It must've been the bark mulch."
"How were you able to …"
"Fought them off," Cranky said. "I don't know how I did it, but … the next thing I remember, they were scampering away. Someone had probably called the police or something. I honestly can't recall much after that. Mei didn't raise her voice to me until around a month later, when we'd both sufficiently recovered. Then she gave the shelling of a lifetime. But before that, while I drifted in and out of consciousness, I recall her crying softly beside my bed."
Kenny looked at the cigarette smoking itself from in between his fingers. It wasn't fair – not for Cranky, anyway. He had been Kenny's big brother since the earliest days of his life, and he only beginning to understand that now, fifteen years later. Cranky had sacrificed so much of his time, sweat, blood and tears for Kenny, and his acts of selflessness was repaid by the youth's sheer ignorance and backtalk.
The more people experienced in life, the more they learned and gradually develop into mature, independent adults. But Kenny, having his memories robbed from him under Shadowlaw's torture at the tender age of six, had his growth as a person effectively set back. As independent as he'd liked to think himself to be, Kenny knew he was far from it. And during that nine year time period that he lived on his own, wondering where he came from, Cranky had spent every sleepless night not knowing whether Kenny was dead or alive. Upon getting a lead from Cammy, who had somehow found Kenny in Raccoon City, Cranky had risked his life by entering the infected city to get Kenny out – when he had no idea that Cranky had even existed. He was still looking out for his little brother, even when the little brother remained unaware, insisting he be left alone to live his life. Reflecting on the way he spoke, the disrespect he was once so proud of to be able to convey without saying much, Kenny began to comprehend the suffocating level of his selfishness.
"Crank?" he said, realizing only then that it had been a good few seconds before either of them had said anything.
"Mmm?" was the tired reply. Cranky had reclined in his seat and had already begun dozing off.
"Thanks."
"What for?" Cranky's words came as a lazy, muffled mumble, having being roused just as he was falling asleep.
"Everything."
Whether or not Cranky understood what Kenny meant, he didn't seem to take much notice and instead, focused on getting some shut eye. He just waved his hand dismissively at Kenny and rolled onto his side, putting his back to Kenny. "Dun' mention it …" he said sleepily. "Now get to bed. It's late."
Kenny headed back into the apartment and pulled a blanket off the couch. He threw it over his shoulder and headed back out onto the patio where Cranky lay sleeping. Unraveling it, Kenny carefully placed the fabric, over Cranky's body and stepped back inside, leaving the patio door open.
"From now on," Kenny promised quietly, "I'm going to be as strong as I can be, so that you can finally be happy with Cammy without having to keep an eye on me. After everything you've done for me, you deserve that much. It's the least I can do."
No sooner than the words had finished running through his head when Kenny heard an unanticipated response, as if coming from the Devil himself, sucking all the life from the room.
"Kondo, tsuyoku ni narana kereba ikenai …" (And now, more than ever, you need to be strong.)
"Who's there?" Kenny cried, whirling his head around his apartment, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious speaker, though he saw nothing. The only thing he noticed was how dark the room had gotten since he and Cranky arrived. And they had left the lights off!
"Ryu ni iru basho wo tsutaerou …." (Tell me where Ryu is.)
And then Kenny remembered, the hair on the back of his neck standing up, his spine sending involuntary shivers throughout his body – back the incident at the hospital when he was talking to Ryu, the shadowy form he saw creeping around the Osaka Dome during the tournament matches …
Messatsu …
XXXXX
Ryu almost gawked in surprise when he ducked a roundhouse kick from Sagat, watching his opponent's leg land into the trunk of one of the palm trees and continue in its arc, snapping the trunk like it was a twig. Sagat didn't even flinch in as he brought his leg back, this time in a hook kick which Ryu expertly dodged again. Standing at over seven feet tall, the Muay Thai warrior possessed a reach advantage over Ryu with his longer limbs. Ryu would have to get closer if he hoped to land a punch but by then, he'd be well within Sagat's reach. To avoid being struck unnecessarily, Ryu maintained a mentally measured distance between him and his opponent – far enough to remain just outside of striking distance, close enough so that he could dash in, strike, and leap away with lower chances of meeting a counterattack. Now he just had to figure out what Sagat was anticipating from him, so he could do something else.
The fight had dragged on for almost an hour with neither warrior gaining an advantage over the other. They both breathed heavily from previous efforts, most of their moves having either been dodged or blocked by each other. And the heat, the choking, humid heat wasn't making it any easier, zapping the energy from both their bodies.
"Give up," Sagat advised. "You have wasted your efforts on me. Even if you do manage to walk out of this battle victoriously, you are in no shape to face Bison."
"That's how you dishonor the way of the warrior," Ryu said. "You have us face you one by one so that we can all be eliminated. You would never be able to face us all at once."
"Bison cares not for honor, but for practicality. This is what he does to meet his goals. This is how the tournament courses were designed."
"And by going along with it, you support him, and adopted his approaches. How can you continue calling yourself a warrior? It's becoming clearer to me that your obsession to regain your honor you lost has caused you to lose what little of it you have left. Your quest to better yourself has had the opposite effect on you."
"That's rich," Sagat said, crossing his arms, "coming from a man who only defeated me because he allowed the corrupted side of his art to take control. I wasn't the one who tapped into an external energy source."
The comment crushed Ryu, who had in the recent years fought to control this energy that threatened to consume him. It wasn't his fault that Akuma had chosen him to accept the Satsui no Hadou in his place. It wasn't his fault that the demon had toyed with Ryu, mocking him, encouraging the negative energy in him to manifest in his body and develop over the years. Ryu's first instinct was to strike out at Sagat in anger, but that would've been the wrong way to proceed with the fight, if he didn't want to end up like Chun Li. And he couldn't use the Satsui no Hadou either, for it would completely extinguish any progress he had made to control it, let alone rely on the evil energy. Yet Ryu understood that he was human before anything else, and could therefore not deny the temptation of seeing Sagat eating the ground the way he deserved it so.
"Are you going to stand and delay the fight with useless words, or finish this battle that both of us have been waiting all these years for?"
Sagat and Ryu recommenced and disappointingly, despite the higher stakes of having to save their own faces from the brief verbal exchange they shared, their performance hadn't improved much, if at all. Neither of them gave into the desperations they had shoved violently to the back of their minds, too stubborn to let it take control over their bodies.
Sagat reared back and threw a high Tiger Fireball this time. Ryu reacted quickly and crossed his arms across his face and chest where he had expected the projectile to collide with his body. He focused a small amount of his natural chi at the point of impact, cushioning the blow, deflecting the projectile. It bounced off Ryu's body and collided with a palm tree, igniting the leaves. Both warriors took a second to see the fire they had accidentally caused. With the threat the fire now posed, walking victorious from this fight would be a lot harder, maneuvering in the battle a lot trickier.
Now, while Sagat was distracted, Ryu pulled back, gathered his energy and … "Shinkuu …" shot a whole swarm of fireballs from his palms. The Muay Thai warrior had caught on a little too late, and ate the attack full force, his body writhing helplessly under at barrage of attacks. Hurt as it did, Ryu's charged projectile move wasn't able to floor Sagat. He struck the ground with his foot, kicking up a cloud of dust at Ryu.
Ryu covered his face in desperation but was unable to stop the dust from flying into his eyes, causing them to tear up and obscure his vision. Once again, the pair of them got into it, exchanging blows with more desperation this time, both of them tired, hot and dirty, both of them wanting to get their way out of the battle. Sagat's Tiger Knee was parried, as was Ryu's collarbone breaker that he countered with. Sagat's right hook, Ryu's forward kick – all missed their mark until Ryu decided to try something new. Instead of dodging and countering or blocking an attack from Sagat, what if he were to fight back with exactly what was thrown at him? Meet punches with punches, kicks with kicks, and so on. Somewhere in the background, the palm tree had completely caught aflame and crashed to the ground, its embers floating in the wind around the warriors. If If Ryu were to fight back that way, meeting Sagat's attacks with a stronger one of his own, he just might be able to firstly give his opponent the impression that he had memorized his fighting pattern, and secondly gain the upper hand in the fight.
Fists collided, feet and joints bashed mercilessly into each other. Paint shot through Ryu's bones, but he could only bite down, take it, and repeat, only this time harder than the last. He would've normally dropped right there, his body experiencing too much pain to let him go on, but what drove Ryu was the fact that it was working. Sagat began looking unsure of what he was doing, since Ryu was mirroring every one of his moves. The first few mirrors had only been a fluke of Ryu correctly guessing what Sagat was going to do next. But Sagat now looked uneasy, like no matter what he did, Ryu would be able to counter. It was only a matter of time before his moves became obvious, easy to predict, his battle prowess limited to predictability coming upon him from distraction, his uncertainty.
Smoke filled the air around them, limiting the oxygen supply. Flames licked the grass at their feet – not even the ground was catching fire. The sky took on a color of orange and blood red, partly from the evening air, partly from the fire and the smoke it emitted. Suddenly, Chun Li's unconscious body caught his attention, about to be consumed by the flames surrounding it. Now was the time to finish the fight before Chun Li burned to death, and Ryu and Sagat collapsed out of the lack of oxygen.
"Shinkuu …" Ryu jumped just as Sagat was coming towards him with a Tiger Knee, his body launching through the air for Ryu. "Tatsumaki" Ryu kicked out his leg and spun his body with such force that Sagat was pulled into the barrage of kicks, his head thrown left and right as Ryu's leg struck him in various parts of the body. "Sempuu Kyaku!" The execution lasted only about a full second, but Ryu could feel the extent of the damage it dealt to his opponent.
Ryu was in such a rush, he didn't even let Sagat's body hit the ground before he was off, running towards Chun Li who still lay on the ground. He missed the crash of Sagat's body colliding with the grass as he bent down and scooped Chun Li up in his arms. Her sleeping face was covered in dirt, blood, sweat, and now a little ash. Her dark hair hung in damp clumps from her head. Ryu started his long walk from the battleground.
When he was far enough away, he set Chun Li back down and turned to go back for Sagat. Killing the Muay Thai warrior hadn't been part of Ryu's plan. Only defeating him was. But just as Ryu took the first step, he felt a wall of dark energy in front of him, now allowing him to proceed any further. He spun around, feeling a presence behind him and nearly choked on his own tongue in surprise.
There was no mistaking the large black cape, the red and silver armor on the Shadowlaw dictator. One clenched fist swam painlessly in a flickering purple flame. His booted feet floated above the grass. And from underneath the brim of his sat, two white, pupil-less eyes glared at him.
"Bison …"