Like the Rest

Written by: RinoaDestiny

Kyo Kusanagi, Iori Yagami, and all the rest belong to SNK

TW: Implied non-con/rape & major character death

Nothing else could faze him after what he'd been through. He'd maintained that stance since escaping a NESTS facility and surviving on his own, so the disquiet settling upon him right now was unexplainable. It was dark outside, night already fallen, and he needed shelter and supplies to tide over the next few hours. He just didn't expect shelter to be the main NESTS facility, and even more disturbing, to find dead clones scattered around. The blood was dried black, the clones all had his face, and the manner of their death was familiar.

Everything in him screamed an alert to leave and look elsewhere. Yet, for reasons he couldn't pinpoint, Kyo advanced further into the building, wary of his surroundings. Scorch marks and blood spatters on the white ceramic tile floor, signs of brutal combat. Here and there lay a clone, ripped open in a style he knew. A broken terminal, computer screens shattered and a body slumped over it. He was now among the tubes – the hatching ground of the NESTS experiments – and his reflection stared back from broken glass.

Shuddering, he pulled his jacket closer and continued further inward.

Majority of the tubes were open – successful clones – but the scientists were gone. It was unlike the facility he fled from, which was a bustle of chemical and unethical activity. Compared to that, this place was dead or at a standstill. Something had happened here, but what? Had the scientists bolted or were they dead as well? If so, how?

While he'd been trying to get answers from his kidnappers, Iori Yagami had dropped by here and wreaked havoc. Usually, that meant a visit in short notice and from the bloodstains, this battle was days old. Yet, Yagami never showed up and that was unlike his rival. Was Yagami lying in wait for him here or had some unforeseen circumstance taken him elsewhere?

It was odd, being concerned for Yagami, and distracted by this newfound feeling, Kyo headed past the "manufacturing" section of the facility. There were a couple of corpses – the battle went this far – but barring them, no other signs of once-existing life. No scientists. No other clones. No Yagami.

Kyo frowned, unsure why that bothered him. Above in the vents, stale air circulated, sending metallic echoes rattling down the length of the building. Shadows lurked in the corners like unnamed threats. Blue and green lights winked from operational terminals; nearby, another one smelled of fire and burnt electronics. Its smooth face was marred by a large blood spatter.

Behind him, the tubes stood like forgotten gravestones.

Suppressing a shiver, Kyo stepped out of the main zone and into the wide corridor leading to the back rooms.

Once there, his initial examination showed nothing amiss. The first few rooms had empty steel shelves, boxes of paperwork, and lab equipment – all fairly standard. One of them even contained instant meals, which would provide for tonight. It was the last door, though, that was locked. An anomaly, considering the others were accessible. Without a key, Kyo resorted to his flames, superheating the door handle and hinges until they were white-hot. Throwing his weight near the weakened hinges, the door budged but didn't give. Another superheating – some of the steel running molten – and another heavy body slam against the door. This time it gave with a slight buckling, swinging partially open.

Kyo reached out and pushed the rest inward.

What assailed his sight was nightmarish. The small storage room was splattered with blood – some dried black and some reddish going brown. Most of it was in congealed puddles on the tile floor. A few random streaks on the side walls – these were dark red – and one long smeared streak leading to the facing wall, brighter than all the rest. Kyo swallowed, stifling nausea.

What the hell had happened here?

He looked away and then turned back, waiting for his eyes to adjust. As his vision brought the entire room into focus instead of those small horrific details, two things stood out: the pile of clothing in the corner nearest to him and the body lying curled against the back wall. He recognized the clothing – couldn't mistake it for anyone else's.

Stomach clenched with trepidation, Kyo stepped inside.

Immediately, he breathed through his mouth instead of his nose. A stench permeated the space, sharp and metallic and also mingled with an unpleasant sourness. Passing the ripped heap of clothes, he approached the curled figure. Denial ran strong, for it couldn't be and yet, the spilled red hair, scarred long limbs, and the evidence behind him confirmed the person's identity.

Kneeling, Kyo extended his hand to touch Iori's shoulder.

"Get away from me!" Iori's reaction was instantaneous, his rival recoiling so quickly that his head slammed against the wall. Something about his body was off, but Kyo couldn't tell what. Iori shrank away from him, shoulders pressed against cold gray steel as if trying to meld into it. "No more. No more. Stop."

If he'd been standing by the doorway, Iori would've been inaudible. This close, however, he heard the fear in Iori's hoarse deep voice. It was unsettling. "Yagami, it's me. It's Kyo."

The eyes that met him were bloodshot, fixing him with a stranger's wild gaze. Instead of his name offering comfort and familiarity, Iori increased the distance between them by pressing against the wall. A grimace crossed Iori's face, even as Kyo noticed the hand on his abdomen. He was unnaturally pale, shivered, and in a cold sweat.

"You've done enough," Iori said, voice now raspy. There was dried blood at the corners of his mouth. "What more do you want?"

"I haven't done anything."

"You're lying." The ugly rasp behind the words was accompanied by a low growl. "They're waiting for you, aren't they? So that you can brag later."

"Yagami, I don't –"

"You all lie." Emphasized by a sudden boost of strength in Iori's voice, the statement struck like a blow. "Why should I believe you?"

"It's just me. There's no one else –"

"Stop it. Just kill me or let me die. You're like the rest."

"The rest?" His stomach twisted; Iori's insinuation disconcerting. "What do you mean?"

Iori no longer looked at him, gaze now focused on the ceiling. Silence fell, heavy and uncomfortable. Disturbed, Kyo studied him, alarm growing as Iori's injuries became apparent. There were dark bruises around his wrist, while his other arm skewed at an angle, swollen and obviously broken. Multiple burns wept fluid – were those from the battle outside? – and the area around his ribs was purple and blue. There was also the strangeness in Iori's legs, positioned the way they were.

"Yagami, you need medical treatment."

Silence.

"I can't help you, but let me take you to someone who can."

Still nothing.

What did Iori mean by "like the rest"? Glancing around the room, Kyo marked once again the bloodstains' different colors. Whatever happened in here occurred in stages, possibly going days back. The slaughtered clones up front were mostly surrounded by old dried blood similar to some of the spatters here. Yet, others were turning brown and some were still red. Had the last occurrence been fairly recent? That particular long streak leading towards Iori appeared fresh.

"Yagami, what happened here?"

A moment of hanging silence. "You know what…happened here." Iori's breathing was shallow, unlike before. His rival didn't look at him.

"I don't."

There was no response, and if he'd been expecting one, Iori didn't give it. Left without answers in a bloodstained room carrying secrets, Kyo stood and stepped away. Doing so allowed a view from a different angle, in which the awkward slant of Iori's legs revealed bruising and terrible swelling. Broken? If so, then why the locked door? What would be the point if Iori couldn't escape?

The facility was empty and the clones dead or gone. Unless…

Like the rest…like the clones? Was Iori assuming he was…? But why? Iori had never mistaken him for anyone else before – certainly could differentiate him from the NESTS-created copies. And yet, Iori never once addressed him by name and had treated him like a stranger. Like a threat.

Why?

What had happened here and were the clones behind it? Those wearing his face – an identity that wasn't theirs? How did the slaughter up front end in a reversal with Iori kept as prisoner, injured and trapped back here? More importantly, were the clones who did this still around but just not here at the moment?

Kyo glanced behind at the empty corridor. His skin crawled.

"Yagami, we need to leave," he said, moving towards his quiet rival. He began removing his jacket, for Iori needed covering. "It mightn't be safe here." He didn't say anything about returning clones, as if doing so would invite their unwelcome presence. With broken legs – just the thought made him wince – it would be impossible for Iori to walk. He would need to be carried.

Kyo took a deep breath and draped his jacket over Iori.

"Wha…what are you…?" Startled, Iori broke the self-imposed silence, though the sudden jerky movement ripped a faint cry of pain from his throat. Kyo froze as Iori curled up, hand pressed to his abdomen. Beads of sweat slid down his face, now tinged gray. Iori moaned, clutching hard at his midsection, even worse than before. If they didn't leave now – NESTS facilities were all black sites in the middle of nowhere – then Iori was beyond all help.

Panicking, Kyo reached down and picked him up.

Iori screamed, a burst of unexpected energy and sound. "Stop! No…no…. No more. No…don't. Don't!" A hand on his chest, trying to push him back. "No…just kill me…just…" A faint sob as Iori trembled in his grasp. "Don't."

Kyo was worried beyond trying to keep a firm grip on his feebly thrashing rival. Iori's skin was clammy and cool – he wouldn't make it to emergency services at this rate – and there was something slippery on his hand by Iori's knees. Craning around to check, Kyo collided straight with horror and denial. Both smashed down hard upon him, reawakening his nausea.

Bright red blood on his fingers. Blood and…

Releasing Iori, Kyo hurried to the nearest corner and threw up, stale crackers and bitter bile covering the floor. Retching, stomach twisting in empty agony, Kyo reeled in mental shock. The clones – those clones – had kept Iori here, had broken his legs, ribs, and arm and then had proceeded to…. He couldn't…it was too terrible to think about – to comprehend why – and he shied away from the awful truth, just as Iori had shied away from him.

Every time Iori looked at him, Iori saw the face of an assailant.

What was the purpose, though? Revenge? There were other ways to do that besides…

No wonder Iori failed to recognize him. No wonder Iori avoided his touch.

Shuddering, Kyo squirmed, as though the actions of the clones had contaminated him. Revulsion at what had been done – he couldn't undo their depravity – and the room closed around him, too small and tainted by what'd happened here. He wanted out and he was taking Iori with him, too. This place could burn to the ground, and he'd see it done.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Kyo returned to Iori.

His rival laid where he'd left him, eyes closed and lips blue. His breathing was shallower than before and his skin, already gray, showed mottling. Despite his nausea, Kyo knelt by Iori. The back wall from where he'd taken him now revealed a sizable puddle of blood on the floor, slick red over dried black. It wasn't just blood, though.

Fighting the urge to vomit again, Kyo closed his eyes, shutting the room from view. He didn't have to check Iori to know the physical condition between his legs. From his former position, Iori had hidden the true cause of his suffering – a slow dying. Had he not come across him tonight, Iori would've…

He reopened his eyes. Gazed down at his dying rival.

With their tumultuous history, Kyo had no reason to like Iori. Dislike aside, he would never wish this on him and yet, those damn clones had done the unspeakable. He would never find out why – would he want the answer to that question? – and for all he knew, those clones had scattered. They might even be outside the country, menaces wearing his face.

The last time Iori saw him, it'd terrified him. It wasn't like that before.

NESTS had much to answer for. With what the Kyo clones did, he now bore a new grievance against the organization.

"Yagami," he said, unsure if Iori heard him. "I'll find them. I'll make them pay."

Nothing, but he'd no expectations this time. Instead, he waited.

Time passed and no one arrived. There, within the still silence, Kyo remained until Iori breathed his last, slipping away without ever regaining consciousness. When Kyo left the facility behind in flames, he took Iori with him and gave him a proper cremation and burial outside. It wasn't Japan and in spite of his gentle treatment, Iori's spirit could wander and haunt the area. Yet, it was the most he could do, being too late to save him.

If those clones thought to return, a rude shock awaited them.

Kyo rolled his shoulders back, wiped his soil-stained hands clean on his shirt, and disappeared into the surrounding darkness. Behind him, the fire raged on, brilliant against the night sky.

There was a promise to be kept.

Comments: So, back when the KOF Doujinshi website was active, the last doujinshi I read on there was a disturbing one in which Iori (male) had somehow fallen into the hands of several Kyo clones (it was non-con). Kyo also showed up, but being an asshole in that, things didn't go well for Iori. I suppose this stuck in my braincase for a few months until recently when this dark plot bunny bit me. Part of my mind decided that if tackled realistically, Iori would suffer quite serious injuries and psychological trauma. Kyo, too, in my mind, would be horrified at what the Kyo clones did to his rival. Guess this is how my mind processed that doujinshi's concept, as tragic as the outcome is.