To the Darkest of Nights We Go
~Dystopian AU ~
Chapter 47
Written By: RinoaDestiny
King of Fighters, Chizuru Kagura, Kyo Kusanagi, Iori Yagami, Terry Bogard, Andy Bogard, Mai Shiranui, Blue Mary, Rock Howard, and Joe Higashi all belong to SNK
Evening arrived as an early dinner for them. Kyo sat on his cot opposite Iori, examining their small inventory when someone knocked on their door. Iori immediately drew back, expression guarded and Kyo holstered the polished and clean pistol. "Come in!" It echoed Yoshiro from hours before and he wondered if the older, more experienced man was rubbing off on him.
Saya entered, carrying a tray laden with bowls and small dishes. "It's a bit early, but there's a meeting happening soon. So I decided to bring it now."
"Thank you." Kyo watched as Saya put the tray on the table before continuing. "About this meeting…will we know more about it? After?"
"Yoshiro will let you know."
"Okay."
The girl left, closing the door behind her with gentleness and only then does Iori relax, leaning forward on his cot. Kyo retrieved one of the ceramic bowls and held it out to him. "Looks like some rice and greens. They even put miso in it."
The redhead reached out and took it, balancing the bowl in his palm. Picking up a pair of chopsticks off the tray, Iori began to eat. Kyo observed him for a few seconds before following suit, relishing the flavors. This might be their last real meal, so there was no hurry. Even Yagami, he noticed, chewed his food instead of bolting it down. For several minutes, their chopsticks clinking against ceramic were the only sounds in the room.
After finishing a tiny side dish of shredded burdock root – where did they get that? – and wetting his throat with the extra bowl of water on his side, Kyo placed his empty dishes on the tray. Looked at Iori, who continued eating his portion. Back when this all started, he would've said something sarcastic just to irk him. They'd been a handful and it was a marvel that Chizuru held them together.
Held them together and tolerated them.
They were nothing but children back then. It took the onset of brutal personal warfare for them to finally grow up. Put their differences aside.
"I've never seen you eat so many vegetables."
Iori's chopsticks stopped moving. The man looked up at him through his red hair. "Better than starving."
"Just saying. You don't prefer it, right?"
"I don't, but…" The chopsticks were wooden, which probably explained why Iori's grip with his freshly bandaged hand wasn't slipping. "Beats the rations."
"Anything beats rations."
The other man nodded. Returned to the black ceramic dish in his hand. Pickled cabbage. "We still have a ward to get through. Might not find food like this."
"Might not find food at all."
That'd always been a real concern and fear during their journey. Voicing it aloud wasn't transgressing any boundaries between them.
The clacking sound of Iori eating. Enjoying what he could right now.
"You did good with the gun."
Iori swallowed his mouthful and glanced at him, a spark of pride in his eye. "Look who you're talking to."
"I know. You cleaned it up nice, though."
His former rival snorted. "Sounds like a girl. 'She cleans up nice.' You gonna name it next?"
"Hell no."
As soon as the amusement surfaced in Iori's face, it left. "Your girl. Yuki. You miss her?"
He fought the urge to reach up and hold the locket with her picture in it. Since the day he was able to keep her memory close, that locket never left his side. He looked at it often after her death in the first year; it'd been easier when they had a bunker and security. Now, on the run, injured and exhausted, Kyo found he didn't have time. He also had responsibilities, which prevented him from indulging in past memories.
Practicing with the Yata mirror. Watching over Iori. Keeping up their morale.
It was all hard work and different from being a team captain.
Because that was all fun and games. Everyone knew that – even Yagami back in the day, with the exceptions being post-tournament with Mature and Vice and that one nasty bout with the Riot of Blood which put him and Shingo in the hospital. Usually, the fighters tried not to kill each other in the open arena with cameras rolling. Hard enough to do without some assholes sabotaging each tournament.
But now…
Now, with Iori asking that particular question and with time on his hands…
Kyo reached behind his neck and undid the steel clasp. Held the leather thong in one hand as he opened the locket with the other. Sealed away behind metal, kept from the elements as best he could, Yuki's soft endearing smile once again transcended paper, bringing a myriad of emotions. His eyes welled up and he turned aside, so that Iori couldn't see.
"I shouldn't have asked."
He shook his head, hair flying into his eyes. "It's okay. I just…"
"Don't have to explain."
If Yuki hadn't died, where would she be now? With his parents and Shingo? With her parents? Would she still be alive if she'd survived the first year? And if so, would she still be waiting for him? For a day that might never come?
He wiped his eyes. At least his nose wasn't running.
If she'd been with him, perhaps…
But he knew the truth, didn't he? If Yuki was with them, their operations against O.R.O.C.H.I. would've been hampered. Worse, his presence would've endangered her. One way or another, something terrible was bound to happen and she'd be involved in it. Without fighting skills – look where that got them – Yuki would've been the first to die regardless of them being there.
It cut him to the quick, losing her.
Even if they were to survive, he'd never have her back.
"Yagami…did you ever…"
Behind him, he felt Iori's silence. It was a thinker's silence, not a negative one. After several seconds, Iori's deep voice responded. "Not like you. You know about my band members. Was pissed off. All my girlfriends left before."
Fortunate, if he wanted to see it that way. Perspective mattered.
"Would you have…if they didn't?"
Another moment of silence.
"Maybe. I dunno. Didn't know myself back then."
"How so?"
"Was trying…" A brief pause. "…was trying to be normal but couldn't. Chasing after you. Saying how I was gonna kill you. Playing in bands. Living by myself. Doesn't really make sense."
"So if O.R.O.C.H.I. killed your girlfriend…"
"I'm not sure, Kyo. It's…different for me."
He turned at that, astonished and Iori's bleak expression met him, unalloyed and genuine. The redhead's chopsticks and dishes have been put aside, for the meal's finished and the focus is now on their conversation. In all the years he's known Iori, he'd never thought the other man found anything lacking in himself. Or would admit to it. The old Iori wouldn't – would sooner tell the person to die if the subject was raised.
It seemed…so long ago. Ancient.
"You found the locket for me. For Yuki's picture. You're not that –"
"Cold? Unfeeling?"
"If you were, you would've scoffed and told me to stop crying. You didn't."
Silence. This time, it felt comforting. Warm. Strange.
"Just tried to help," Iori mumbled. It was amusing, even now, to see the other fighter sheepish about certain emotions. Some things never changed. It was enough to bring him out of his sudden mood swing – pain still sharp and present – and enough for him to walk over and lay a hand on Iori's shoulder.
Startled, the other glanced up at him.
"You did. So I'm doing the same."
Whatever Iori would've said – the redhead opening his mouth – was cut short by two sharp raps against the door.
It was the sharpness and urgency that riveted his attention. He called out, turning; already sensing yet another change in this turbulent life of theirs. "Come in!"
The person on the other side does.
It's Yoshiro with a face like flint.
Kyo removed his hand from Iori's shoulder, but not before he felt the other tense. He doesn't look at him; he doesn't have to. "What is it, Yoshiro?"
The older man strode over, his long ponytail a dark slash against his gray shirt. His proximity – urgency about him hanging like a descending blade – caused two reactions. Iori, agitated, stood from his cot and moved away. Distance from the sense of an impending threat, or what news Yoshiro would bring. For Kyo, he eyed Yoshiro with trepidation. He'd never seen this level of intensity in him before.
"Yoshiro, what's wrong?"
"Murashige and Shirou – our leaders – just reported. There's an army advancing. They've already sent their scouts. The vanguard's coming in next."
"How many are we –"
"Two companies for the vanguard."
His anxiety worsened; Kyo had to refrain from biting the inside of his cheek. "The main force?"
"A battalion."
"Shit." Iori's face had gone white. It was the first word he'd spoken since Yoshiro entered. "That many?"
Steel in Yoshiro's eyes and an edge like a knife in his voice. "There are rumors, but rumors may be true. There might be worse."
"How?" Disbelief in Iori's voice.
"We think they might be accompanied by generals."
Kyo shot an immediate glance over to Iori, whose terrified expression betrayed him. Generals. Yashiro Nanakase and Shermie were dead. Slain in the first engagement of battle between him and Chizuru. But Goenitz was still alive and so was Chris. Goenitz had reason to seek them out – to search and destroy. If Chris joined, had reasons of his own to root out the remaining Sacred Treasures…
"Do you know who these generals are? Or could be?"
"Not sure. But with that many soldiers, they'll need commanders."
"Yoshiro…if what you say is true about the generals, we have to leave. Now."
"But it's not safe –"
"They're looking for us. If they find this place, they'll…" He doesn't want to say the words. Just vocalizing them might curse this place. Doom the inhabitants. The survivors.
Survivors are so few. He doesn't want to be responsible for their deaths. Because of them. Because of him and Iori. Because of them delaying the inevitable.
They were never meant to stay here. He knew that.
It was time they moved on.
"If they find us, you know what'll happen."
Yoshiro doesn't back away, but something in his expression shifts. A crack in the hardness of his face and the crack revealed fear. "Yes. I'm aware. But you –"
"Better us than you. You and your sister and Sachiko and the others."
"It's evening. Shouldn't you –"
"No. The longer we wait, the more dangerous it becomes. We'll take our stuff and go. Disavow that you ever saw us, if anyone asks you. It's safer that way. Let the others know, too."
"And you? Do you have food? Water? Supplies?"
"No, but we don't have time for that. We can't –"
"Wait. I'll get you something. I'll be quick. Hold on." Before Kyo could protest, Yoshiro was out the door. His footsteps resounded on the tile floor until they disappeared.
He turned to look at Iori and found the redhead leaning against the wall, stifling down panic. His hands were clenched tight and his head was bowed. He approached him with caution, aware that anything could be a trigger now. As he did, he heard the other's breathing. Rapid, going from shallow to deep as if Iori couldn't get enough air, and he saw his Adam's apple bobbing. Keeping two hand spans' distance, he waited for Iori to catch his breath and settle down.
Yoshiro had just left. They had time.
"Two companies. A fucking…battalion." The razor edge of hysteria in Iori's voice, held back only by the sheerest effort. "Hundreds…a thousand…for us?"
They did storm Shinsaibashi. After that, O.R.O.C.H.I. wasn't taking any chances.
"We want O.R.O.C.H.I. gone. They want us out. It's mutual."
A faint laugh and it carried all the trauma Iori had. "We're…I…I said we were all gonna die, didn't I?"
He did. That'd been days before in the bunker. Two days before O.R.O.C.H.I.'s decisive ambushes separated them and threw them into a second wave of hell. "They're determined to kill us. Let's not make it easy for them."
"A battalion…fuck."
"I'm here, Yagami."
The other man took a deep breath, making a valiant effort to calm down. Kyo didn't touch him. Gave him space. Waited.
"They're…they're headed this way, right?"
"Possibly. You reminded me – I need to ask Yoshiro from where they're approaching. It could make a difference."
"How are we gonna leave? Without being…"
Without being caught. Iori's greatest fear. He was here to combat that – to offer him options and a possible resolution. "It's nighttime. We'll use that to our advantage like before. However…" Kyo frowned. "When we leave, we need to create a distraction. Divert their attention away from this place."
Iori stared at him, eyes growing wide with comprehension. "But…"
"I know. They'll figure out where we are. But if we don't, Yagami, what happens here? What if they find this place? Find these people?"
Silence.
"We weren't able to save that family, but we can do something here."
Iori winced at the reminder. His hands were unclenching.
"You mean to use our flames."
"They'll see it. Hopefully, it won't draw everyone upon us. Not looking forward to being shot to pieces." Kyo paused. "Yagami…does it hurt using your flames?"
"It always hurts."
"I mean with your hands like that."
The redhead gave a reluctant nod. "It burns. Don't have the protection I used to."
"Let me set the diversion. Save your hands."
"But I –"
"Purple flames will draw more attention, true. But we need weapons, Yagami. Your hands are one of them. Let them heal. The Kusanagi flames will do the job tonight."
"Kyo…" Iori said, a frisson of fear returning to his eyes. "The generals. Are they…"
"I dunno, but we're not sticking around to find out."
"Goenitz. He'd –"
"He's not gonna do anything to you. Won't let him."
"Chris?"
"He's another problem, but we'll deal with it later." Kyo frowned again, feeling the skin between his brows crease. "If he's wandering, what's he doing with Goenitz? Is he leading the vanguard? The battalion?"
Across from him, Iori's expression altered again, pondering now. It was several seconds before he responded. "The vanguard will be looking for us. Goenitz will be in charge."
"Why not the battalion?"
"First strike, Kyo. The battalion is mop-up. If they succeed."
"Nanakase and Shermie were in Orochi form."
"Then Chris will be too."
"We have to leave. Yagami, do you have everything?"
The man reached down and touched the outside of his pants pocket. "Yeah. Don't have much but…" A slight pause. "The MP3 player. I still have it."
The one connection to the past. To days ago before everything changed.
"Good. I'll check again, but besides the gun, I don't think we're missing anything. Did you see my ammo pouch?"
Iori shook his head.
"Damn. Bet I lost it while getting out of Naniwa. Eleven bullets, you said?"
"Exactly eleven."
"Hope I don't have to use it." He glanced at the door, which had remained open. "Is he getting everything for us? Wait, Yagami. Let me check."
Their discussion had calmed down Iori – enough so that they could break down inventory and figure out the next steps – but Yoshiro's absence concerned Kyo. Unless the older man was emptying everything out for them, he wouldn't be away this long. Then again, what did he know? He'd only been here a few days.
Just as he approached the door, he heard footsteps. Light ones.
Was it Saya? Or Sachiko?
"Kyo!" A girl's voice called out to him. He stuck his head out the door and looked. Saya ran at full speed, only halting before collision was imminent. Looped around her arm was a bulging canvas shoulder bag. "My brother told me. That you're leaving. So we…we decided to…"
"Saya?"
"This is for you. Yoshiro has another one for your friend."
"But won't you…aren't we…"
She shook her head, smiling. "We'll be fine here. But you…you're heading outside. So…we want to make sure you're prepared."
He took the bag from her. It was heavy.
Behind him, Iori took a step forward. "What's inside?"
He opened the bag. Two translucent containers full of water. Several packs of crackers. A stoppered jar of dried radishes. A small steel bowl. A pack of matches. Kyo smiled at the irony of that particular item. Flames were one thing they'd never lack. A package of udon noodles. He looked up at Saya. "This is…"
"My brother's giving you some rice and pickled vegetables as well. The vegetables won't keep for long but the rice will."
"Why are you…" He turned to look at Iori, who was addressing Saya for the first time since they were rescued and brought here. "Why are you doing this? You don't even know us."
The girl's smile was a reply in of itself. "Because you're going out there and people want to kill you. Yoshiro told me. We can't join you, but at least you won't starve."
Iori fell silent. Kyo wondered if he was speechless.
"Thank you for taking care of us," he said. He also knew – the feeling strong – that he'd never see Saya, Yoshiro, Sachiko, or any of these people again. "This is a gift."
"Stay safe out there." The girl turned. "Oh, here's my brother now."
Yoshiro came up behind his sister, handing another laden bag to Iori. Dumbfounded was the only way to describe the redhead's expression. "Some more water, rice, vegetables. You can eat it for a few days."
"Thank you." Kyo watched Iori hoisting the bag over his shoulder, adjusting its position. His mind turned to other matters. "Yoshiro…did your leaders say from which direction the army's approaching?"
"They're not certain, but it might be two-pronged. One in this direction heading south. The other branching east."
"Abeno." Iori said behind him, an inkling of alarm in his tone.
"You're headed for Abeno?"
"To Ikuno, actually. But we need to cut through Abeno first."
The siblings exchanged a glance. Yoshiro spoke. "If you take one of the exits here, it'll only take a few hours' walk before you reach it. But it's dark outside. You sure you'll be okay?"
"We'll find a way."
"Saya, can you guide them to the easternmost exit?"
"Once they're ready, I'll take them."
"Kyo, stay strong. Y., never really got to speak to you much, but you'll be okay. Your friend's watching out for you."
If they weren't under threat of discovery and death, Kyo would've chuckled at the baffled look on Iori's face. The siblings had a way of surprising people, he'd come to realize.
"When you're ready, Kyo, let me know. I'll be waiting outside."
"I need to confer with Murashige and Shirou, Saya. See you later."
"See you later, brother."
The door closed behind Saya and Yoshiro. Kyo looked again at Iori.
"So…are we ready?"
With their new gifts of food and water, a few medical supplies, his pistol, Iori's MP3 player, and the new clothes on their backs, they prepared to depart. Yagami had insisted on a final sweep of the room, but it yielded nothing. Once they were ready, they stepped out of the room that had been theirs for the past few days and walked towards Saya. There was a distinct lingering limp in Iori's gait and Kyo worried over it. Still, Yagami seemed able to keep up, so Kyo didn't say anything.
"Come on. This way."
They followed Saya, who navigated through the expansive subway station without issues. This was her home now. Perhaps, if circumstances had been kinder, this would've become a third home, too. Their original homes were lost, their second one he'd burnt to ashes, and so this…. The people were kind despite their struggles and the place was comfortable. They'd convalesced here and both of them continued to survive.
To be.
"How are your knife wounds?" he asked Yagami, careful not to let slip the other's surname within earshot of Saya.
"They're fine."
"Try not to tear them. I'll check them later."
The other man didn't respond.
"Are you all right?" Saya turned to check on them, her sharp glance falling upon Iori's injured leg and his dragging stride.
"He's fine. Don't worry about him."
"Okay."
He started seeing overhead signs. There were three exits here, but Saya took them to the leftmost one. "This one leads towards Abeno. Just a bit longer."
Iori didn't say anything. Neither did he.
Instead, they walked. Here, it was quiet. Their footsteps left trails in the thick dust – three separate tracks – and when he glanced back for a brief second, the space behind them was empty and still. It reminded him of the station in Shinsaibashi; he shivered.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." It was kind of Iori to ask. "I was just thinking of something."
Shinsaibashi. No need to voice that here. No need to awaken memories for Yagami. Not now. Not when they were returning back to the unknown.
Several steps and many minutes later, they were before a sealed entrance.
Memories again and none of them pleasant.
"Murashige and Shirou have a little trick for this." Saya reached for something behind the steel barrier. Kyo thought he heard a 'click'. "That should work."
Before his eyes, the barrier unfolded like one of those origami puzzles. The opening was slight – enough for one person, like a bottleneck – but the sound of wind and the scent of the air outside stirred his senses. Beside him, Iori straightened, as if awakening to the same.
"I'll let Yoshiro know you've both safely left. Kyo. Y."
The slightest of bows. Casual, not formal.
He swallowed. "Thank you again."
"We're glad to help. Watch over each other, okay?"
He turned to Iori. The redhead raised an eyebrow. "You wanna go first?"
"That's your job."
Clever. He was the point man. "All right, all right. I'll let you know when."
Upon setting foot on the stairs leading upward, Kyo felt a thrill ripple through his stomach. Although they were heading into danger, being able to savor the open sky, the crisp air, and see surroundings besides walls did a lot to revive his youthfulness. He was still young and alive.
He listened. For other sounds besides wind and bird cries.
Nothing.
Taking a few cautious steps, hoisting the strap of his bag higher, he surfaced. Looked in all directions. Lights towards the west. North was dark. East was the same. So was further south behind him. He went back down, pitching his voice at Yagami. "It's clear. Let's go."
Iori exited, turning his tall frame sideways to do so and joined him. Then, there was the near-quiet sound of the barrier closing. Keeping the inhabitants of this lone subway station sheltered and safe.
They were on their own now like before.
"You said you wanted to set a distraction."
"Still do. Let's clear some ground first. You'll be all right, Yagami?"
"You're here."
"We'll get through this. Come on – let's go."
