Kenny sat at a small wooden table, with a diameter of about three feet. He scratched at the lacquered wood with the nail of his index finger, waiting patiently for the strangely familiar man he was supposed to meet. He sighed outwardly and rubbed his eyes. Greasy. Probably from all the dried up sweat from a hard day's work at that sweltering restaurant. From the moment he got back from his cigarette break with Cranky, Mr. Takayama didn't lay off of him, pointing out every mistake he'd made.

"You're not filling that customer's cup with more water!" the boss would complain in Japanese. "Why haven't these people been given menus yet? You're delivering the food way too slowly!"

Kenny rolled his eyes at the mere memory of his boss. If his service was so bad, how was it that he managed to make five thousand yen in tips that evening? He wondered why he constantly put up with Mr. Takayama's bitchiness. The guy didn't know how to run a restaurant. Having one waiter on the floor during lunch and dinner is beyond moronic. Any restaurant owner knew that.

But the answer came to Kenny quickly – he needed the job, he needed the money to support himself. Two thousand free dollars a month was good, but it wasn't nearly enough to pay for living expenses. Since returning to Japan, he'd been staying night after night at a local hostel that provided cheap nightly rates, though "cheap" was a word Kenny used loosely, this being Osaka and all.

He couldn't wait to return to the hostel later that night and get some good rest. Tomorrow's shift started at 8:00 am. Kenny glanced at his watch, one with a large face set in a black frame and matching strap around his left wrist. 9:37 pm. At this rate, he was going to get less than twelve hours of sleep, his preferred hours.

"How's it going?"

Kenny snapped his head up to get a look at the speaker, although he had a pretty good idea who it was. "Uncle Ken." He had his beautiful wife with him, and the pair of them drew seats from neighboring empty tables and sat down, husband and wife looking at each other nervously, wondering who should speak first, wondering what to say.

"You remember my wife?" he asked.

"Yeah," Kenny replied, "from this afternoon."

"That's not what I meant. She's your Aunt Eliza."

"Cool," Kenny replied with an unskillfully hidden sense of urgency in his voice. "We agreed to meet because I wanted an explanation on my past from you. So let's hear it."

"Nine years ago," Ken began to speak, realizing his wife would have no part in this, "there was an explosion near the base of Mount Fuji. The government, in an effort to protect the Japanese people, kept reports of the case under wraps."

"Do you know what happened there?"

"Have you ever heard of the crime syndicate "Shadowlaw?" Ken asked.

The name sounded all too familiar. Uncle Ken was connected to Kenny somehow, he could sense it just by his knowing of the evil organization. "Y … yes I do."

"And you know about your connections to them?"

"I have no connections to them," Kenny said, getting defensive.

"But your father …"

"Yeah, he was a Shadowlaw scientist. Not me."

"No," Ken disagreed, shaking his head, "you are connected. You just don't know how."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Kenny said, raising his voice. "I suppose the next thing you're going to tell me is that it's because of the Shadow Technology right?"

"You're not supposed to remember anything from beyond the past nine years …" Ken said, scratching his head in wonder.

"Yeah except I learned about it roughly three months ago in Raccoon City," Kenny continued, more calmly this time. He paused, closing his eyes, looking as if he was trying to make himself forget.

"What happened in Raccoon?" Ken asked, worried for his young friend.

"I was involved with a lot of bullshit," Kenny admitted, "with a company called the Umbrella Corporation."

"What did they want with you?"

"Let's just say they felt that they owned the Technology. Anyway, I thought you were supposed to be doing the explaining?"

"Right," Ken continued, "so your father was murdered by his employers after they found out he hid the Shadow chip in your body to prevent them from getting to it."

A silence fell upon the three of them for a few moments, nobody sure of what to say.

"I'm going to get a coffee," Eliza offered. "Do you boys want anything?"

"A grande decaf," Ken asked.

"Tall, soy, no-water, Tazo chai, please," Kenny followed.

As she walked away to make the order, Ken spoke up. "So then, it should be obvious by now that I've known you since before your memory wipe.

Kenny shrugged. "So that's what it was … a memory wipe. I thought I just fell and hit my head real hard. Nine years ago … so that means I would've been …"

"Six years old," Ken answered.

"How did it happen?"

"You suffered near fatal damage during the explosion at the Shadowlaw base at Mount Fuji. It pretty much resurrected you in an attempt to save itself from dying. Having reset itself, the technology was like a computer. You restart a computer, and all the unsaved information is lost. The technology works to enhance a person's physical abilities, not save memories. So when it was rebooted, your memories were wiped out."

"So now I'm a fucking computer, is that what you're telling me?"

"I'm not calling you any names. I'm just presenting the facts."

"I'm sorry," Kenny said apologetically. "I just don't … "

"It's a hard thing to accept, coming from a stranger like me. But I'm here to tell you, Kenny, that I am no stranger. I've been watching over you for the past nine years and even before then."

"But why? What kind of obligation do you have to me?"

"Ryu and I were the ones to who took you off the streets before your memory wipe. Even in those forgotten years, you were still being chased an evil company. Back then, it was Shadowlaw. And Interpol wanted to get their hands on you too, in order to prevent Shadowlaw from getting their hands on the technology."

"Wow … I'm a popular guy, huh?"

Ken smirked. "So it seems. Ryu and I were caught in the middle – and keep in mind that this was taking place during the Street Fighter Alpha tournaments, which was hosted by Shadowlaw."

"Wow, man, some serious shit really hit the fan. And out of everyone involved, I'm the only one who gets a memory wipe."

"It's better that you did. For a six year old, you had to grow up pretty damned fast and I didn't think that was fair. Had you gone through life with that screwed up childhood, who knows what you would've turned into?"

"Probably would've been better than working for a sadistic boss."

Ken let out a hearty laugh. Wiping a tear from his eye, he said, "It's good to see that after all you've been through, you still hold a sense of humor."

"It's all based on fact," Kenny said, shrugging. "So then, that's why you decided to fund my life? Just because you felt sorry for me?"

"Well … I guess I just …" Ken scratched the back of his head nervously. "You were just such a cute kid," he finally admitted. "I couldn't just let you back out on the streets, especially when you had no memory of anything. Besides, I had a lot of money to throw around."

"Two grand adds up after while," Kenny added.

Ken scoffed. "I make five times that amount bi-weekly. Money's not an issue."

"What the hell do you do to get that kind of dough?!"

"Um … I'm Ken Masters, martial arts action star?" he asked, pointing a thumb at himself, as if it should've been obvious.

"Holy shit!" Kenny gasped. "You're THE Ken Masters? I thought your name sounded a little familiar but I never put two and two together …"

"Well surely you must've seen my face on billboards and stuff, right?"

"Uh … heh … sorry, I was never much of a fan."

"Just as well. I market myself to the generation X female market only."

"You better not still be!" Eliza threatened, showing up behind Ken with a cardboard drink holder with three hot beverages nestled comfortable in it. Kenny stifled a snicker.

"Of course not, my dear!" Ken said, laughing nervously.

"I hope not," Eliza continued. "I'd hate to see this hot coffee all over that handsome face of yours. Such a waste of freshly brewed coffee."

"Well not that we're all together," Kenny suggested, "would you folks like to join me outside?"

"You know, smoking is really …"

"I know, I get it from Cranky enough, thanks."

"But how do you remember Cranky?"

"The same way I remembered you," Kenny replied. "He looked familiar and suddenly, my mind knew immediately who he was."

"You're probably right," Eliza said. Somehow, the sound of her voice soothed him. "Ken's told me everything about you. A lot happened before your memory wipe and one day – today – just isn't enough time to absorb it all."

"Alright, then! Shall we?" Kenny extended his arm, which Eliza took the liberty to loop her own arm around his elbow, and they strode out of the coffee joint with drinks in hand.

"Hold up!" Ken said, picking up his drink, still embedded in the tray.

XXXXX

From across the street, dark cloak wrapped around a hulking seven foot seven inch frame, a dark man watched the threesome exit from the Starbucks. They looked like a happy family – a beautiful woman with her handsome husband, and their mouthy teenage son … only their kid looked like a local kid. But the dark man knew better. He'd faced the two warriors in battle before, nine years ago in the Shadowlaw Fuji Base explosion. He was the one that helped rescue the teen all those years ago from certain death in the explosion.

"I don't want to do this," the man said to himself. "I don't want to live my life like this." There was no choice. As M. Bisons's second in command, he had to take orders directly from the Shadowlaw leader himself. And his instructions tonight were to keep an eye on potential SS-001 candidates. The translation being, anyone who could possibly carry the SS-001, the prototype version of the Shadow Technology unmodified and raw, straight from the deceased Dr. Feng himself. And this teenager was the perfect candidate.

The man withdrew a computer enhanced picture from the chest pocket of his cloak. It was a picture taken of SS-001 Kenneth Feng when he was six years old, using age enhancing technology to give him a more matured appearance. And that kid across the street looked quite a bit like the kid in the picture. And the confirmation he needed was the fact that he was with Ken Masters.

He then extracted a cell phone from the same pocket, dialed, and waited. "Master Bison, this is Sagat reporting."

"What news do you bring, Sagat?"

"I believe I've located the prototype SS-001," he replied. "He's with Ken Masters." Sagat bit his own lip nervously as he spoke. Shadowlaw's tactics were dishonorable, using hostages for money, terrorizing innocents, trafficking drugs, and other impure substances. Was getting revenge on Ryu worth sacrificing his morals by siding with such an organization? Was he lowering himself as a warrior and more importantly, as a human by fighting for Shadowlaw's cause? He was too afraid to think of the answers. So just like he'd done many times before, Sagat shut out his conscience and asked Bison, "what are your orders?"

"Take the prototype," Bison replied. "Kill Masters if you have to."

"Yes, sir."