Chapter 3
She could vaguely see it in her mind. A mist… a haze which surrounded everything in an indistinct blanket of invisible shadow— a scene almost unreal, as if straight out of the pages of a fantastic picture-book. The image itself was rather clear. There was the path, the dirt road, the rows of trees flanked by grass and the two people who walked alongside it— father and daughter, the older looming above the younger like the ever dominating figure of an age-old tree— a parent tenderly watching over the new-born spruce which sprang up from under it. But the sensations… the smells, the sounds, the feeling of the fresh spring breeze coolly whipping through her long brown hair… these she couldn't sense anymore; long since had they fallen away to the twists and ravages of time. But the picture was still there, and as long as there was a picture there was still a memory… still a dream on which to fly to the precious moments of times long past.
"Well well. Aren't you the energetic little girl today."
Her father smiled down at her, grinning with the full blossom of adoring fatherly affection. He reached down to pat her head, only to be greeted with a chorus of sweet laughter as she deftly dodged his touch.
"Who are you gathering those for?"
She skipped along at his side, giggling, laughing... a fair little pixie dancing to the silent music of the blossoming springtime. Every now and then she would bend to pick a flower from the vivid greenery of the surrounding grass, and add it to the already burgeoning assortment of whites, reds, and yellows which rested in her little arms.
"Who are you gathering those for?" he repeated, this time succeeding in rubbing his hand lovingly in his daughter's hair, "For me?"
"No silly!" she giggled— the perfect little imp, "These are for mama!"
"For mama eh?"
"Yep, for mama! Do you think she'll like them?"
"Of course." He laughed, "She always did like flowers."
She always did like flowers. Flowers in the Spring. Flowers in the Summer. Flowers in the Fall. Even in Winter, when the cold hand of the winter snow would mercilessly descend over the frozen tundra of the barren earth, cruelly choking back any signs of life which still remained, even then she managed to keep a few stray blossoms alive in the warm confines of their apartment home. And now… even now she was still receiving flowers. These were blossoms from her little daughter— the sweetest and most beautiful flower of them all.
"We are going to visit mama after this, right?" she spoke now, peering upwards at him with those same cute little eyes, "We are right? You promised!"
"Of course, Li-Li. Of course."
He smiled at her, that same smirk he always used to comfort her when she got upset. Ever since she was a little babe she had relied on her mother for strength and support… just as much as her mother had relied on her. During all those missions for Interpol— those long stretches of time when he was away from home— she needed someone to be there for her. Things had worked out, then. Her mother was a friend to talk to, a trusting companion with whom to playfully whittle the hours away. But things were different now.
"Do you miss her, Li-Li?" he spoke at length, lovingly resting his hand on the head of the child, "Do you think of her often?"
At this she gave a playful giggle, mischievously throwing a flower at her father's feet. A red carnation. Bending over to pick it up, he fell face first into his daughter's trap— the softness of a light kiss on the cheek. Chun-Li… Spring Beauty… how appropriate her name sounded now.
"I'm sorry, you know." He gave a sigh, looking up into the clear blue of the day's sunshine, "I'm sorry for not being able to be there."
And suddenly he felt a warmness in his hand, a softness which pressed gently into the flesh of his palm. She was holding his hand. Her skin… delicate. Her fingers… so small and tiny in comparison to the giant behemoths of his own. The tears swelled up in his eyes, threatening to break forth into the mighty roaring of an all-out flood. His little Li-Li… how precious did her touch seem now. It was a life-line, a reason for living, a reason to continue fighting day by day. And her touch used to be just like this too. Oh how he loved the both of them.
"Do they… allow flowers in heaven, daddy?" she looked at him, for the first time her expression mirroring one of concern, "They do don't they? Or else how am I going to get these to mommy?"
"Of course they do." He smiled, blinking away the tears as he bent over to pick her up in his arms. She giggled in delight as he lifted her, squirmed in playful glee as he carried her high up into the cool breeze of the late afternoon air. Chun-Li. A memento of their marriage; a memory of precious days gone on by. And also his daughter. The most precious daughter in the world. He hugged her close to him, restraining her futile attempts at escape as he planted a half-dozen kisses on her cheek.
"Baba!" she squirmed, trying to push away with her little arms, "Stop that! You're embarrassing me!"
"But there's no one around to see you." He protested, continuing to snuggle her close to him, "And besides, it shouldn't be an embarrassment to be hugged by your father."
"But baba… I'm big now! You can't do this now that I'm big!"
Big. He gave a slight chuckle as he adhered to her wishes, resting all thirty-eight pounds of her slender, four-year old frame steadfastly on the ground. Heh heh. She was so cute when she was angry. Head thrust forward, tiny hands on hips— she glared at him with all the rage her little face could muster.
"Don't laugh!" she pouted, "I AM big!"
"Of course Li-Li." He smiled, rubbing his daughter affectionately on the head, "You are big. So big, in fact, that I think… I think it's about time I gave you this…"
Yes. It was about time he did it. He had been putting it off for far too long; for too many years had he delayed giving to her what was rightfully hers. The pictures, the memories, the remembrances… he supposed he was afraid of losing it all. But… she was old enough to understand now, old enough to appreciate the merit and sacredness of such things. She would take good care of them.
"What is it, baba?" she asked, her anger rapidly being replaced by her rampant curiosity, "What is it?"
"I have something to give you, Li-Li," he smiled as he kneeled down next to her, taking a tiny hand tightly into his own, "Something… important. But you have to promise to take good care of it, ok? Always keep it close by you, and make sure to never lose it. Ok, Li-Li?"
"Ok baba." She smiled confidently at him.
"Do you promise?"
"Yes baba."
He gave a short sigh as he released her, nodding to himself in an apparent gesture of satisfaction. She looked on in utter awe as he reached into his pocket, extracting what looked to be the tarnished markings of a small, brown, age-worn box.
"These used to be your mother's. She wore them all the time."
He opened it with the utmost of care, handling the thin cover of the worn-down package with all the frailty of a father and his new-born child. What was it? She grabbed his wrist in wild curiosity, stepped upon her tippy-toes to sneak a glance at the mysterious contents of the small, thin box. What could it possibly be?!
"This… this is…"
And inside she found the lonely figures of two ancient ribbons… the edges slightly tattered with age… the color— once so brilliant with the unrivaled magnificence of the day's sunshine— now faded away into nothing more than a pale yellowish reminder of the hue's former splendor. The golden bands looked strange, almost unreal in the soft light of the late afternoon sun. Ghostly. Ethereal. If someone were to touch them they would probably fade away altogether, forever leaving this plane to float for an eternity with the immaterial objects of the spirit world…
"These… were mama's?"
"Yes, Li-Li. Mama's."
Damn. He could feel the tears swelling forth again; his resolve was rapidly disintegrating into nothingness. With one urgent motion he thrust the box into her hand, hurriedly closing the tiny fingers over the package as he pulled himself away.
"Take care of them for me, Li-Li. Please."
"Yes, baba." She whispered, her voice still shaky with awe, "I will."
"And when you're a little bit older… when you're a bit older I'll show you how mama used to wear them." He wiped a hand over his eyes, softly brushing away the new wave of tears which threatened to run forth down his cheeks, "Alright, Li-Li?"
"Yes… yes baba."
And she dropped the bouquet of flowers upon the ground, wrapped her arms tightly around his legs in the adoring embrace of a daughter's hug. He couldn't help but smile as he gave in to this little sign of affection, lovingly returning her hug with an embrace of his own. She always seemed to know how to comfort him. At least for the moment— a mere second of existing time— he could pretend that the tears of his eyes were dry, the clouds of the sky had lifted, the haunting nightmares of a hellish past would sugar over into the syrupy sweetness of future dreams.
"I hope these will help you, Li-Li." He sighed, hugging her figure tight to him, "And when times are tough, when all the world around you seems to fight against your hopes and dreams… I hope then you will still have these as a reminder of your courageous mother…"
He paused to smile at her, a grin she could almost discern to be sad in the fast receding brightness of the afternoon light.
"… and of me…"
*****
Ding-Dong.
"Welcome to Shanghai International Airport! Please keep yourself seated with seatbelts securely fastened until we have come to a full and complete stop by the airport terminal. The local time here is 5:30 pm. Local temperatures are around a cool 2º C, with a clear sky and hard winds expecting to pick up into the night. If you are planning to board on a connecting flight, please make sure to pick up your luggage at baggage claim C-14 before continuing to check in at your respective terminals. Otherwise if your final destination is Shanghai, we would like to take this opportunity to welcome you to the beautiful city and hope that you enjoy your stay here in China's industrial center."
Chun-Li slowly opened her eyes. The voice of the flight attendant loudly buzzed over the static charged droning of the overhead intercom, gradually setting her back among the squashed seats, narrow rows, and jam-packed corridors of the oppressively small commercial aircraft.
"On your way out please check to make sure you have all bags and overhead luggage securely with you, and in accordance with airport regulations please refrain from smoking until you are out of the terminal. On behalf of all employees here at China Airlines, we sincerely hope you have enjoyed your flight with us this afternoon and hope to see you again in the near future."
She sat up with a tired groan, pressing a hand to her violently throbbing forehead as she wiped a small stream of unconscious drool away from the corners of her mouth. Ughhh. Airplane flights were almost always tiring. Perhaps it was the constant noise of the flight which did it; or maybe it was the painfully cramped arrangement of the seats— with chairs packed so tightly they could almost double as a prison, slowly torturing the criminal with the full extent of their non-existent leg room—, but whatever it was she found herself exhausted.
Brrring-Brrring.
And suddenly there was a ringing— a loud tinny bell sound which screeched in her ears. Right on time. With a tired sigh she reached into the small black traveler's bag stowed away under the seat in front of her, rummaging through the various contents in search of the offensive sound. Let's see… toothbrush, comb, hairclips, notepad, a various assortment of pens and pencils and an old drama novel… ah here it was. Cell-phone.
"Hello?" she spoke, pressing the phone tightly to her ear. She already knew what the call was about. In accordance with Interpol regulations, all active agents were required to receive a preliminary mission briefing before leaving headquarters and a secondary "reminder" briefing after arriving at the destination.
"Good evening, Chunny!" the annoyingly energetic voice of Hou Jiang jumped out from the other end, "You still on the plane?"
"At the terminal." She explained with a groan, raising one hand to slowly massage her throbbing temples. What a headache. And Hou was only making it worse, fairly screaming at her with all the vigor of his almost oppressively loud voice.
"You didn't have too much trouble with the flight attendants giving you that crap about turning off the cell-phone, did you?"
"No." She couldn't help but flash a tiny smile, "But I almost wish they did. Then I wouldn't have to talk to you."
"Ouch. Always sooooo hostile. But you can't refuse me this time, Chunny! This is a business call from Interpol."
"Yes, I know." She rolled her eyes, gave a tired sigh to the cramped, oppressive heat of the atmosphere, "You called to give me my secondary mission briefing, right?"
"You got it, Chunny." She could hear him chuckle on the other end, "Interpol really likes to make sure their agents do their jobs right. I know you hate these, but I promise to make it go quick, ok? After I'm finished you won't have to hear my obnoxious voice anymore for the rest of the evening, alright?"
"Fine." She gave a faint giggle, "Go ahead. "
"Alright then… let's start from the top." He paused to prepare himself for the task, drawing forth a deep breath of air into his lungs, "As you know, you were chosen for this assignment because you are familiar with the target, Ryu. Now, Ryu is someone we've been keeping track of for quite some time— even since before the Street Fighter tournament. No matter where he was we've always tried to have someone there with him, keeping track of his movements, his activities, and his actions. All in secret of course. You getting this, Chunny?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Well… apparently, this guy wanders a lot. In a four year span he's been spotted in China, Japan, India, Thailand, both of the Koreas and Mongolia— basically all of South Eastern Asia. It became increasingly difficult to keep track of him as time went on, and after the tournament we lost him altogether."
"Are you almost done?" she asked, not caring to hide the obviously bored expression of her tone. These briefing reviews were so tedious.
"Wow. You are impatient." He laughed, his voice chuckling forward from the other end, "You haven't done this in a while, so just bear with me a little longer, alright Chunny? As I was saying, he sort of disappeared after the tournament. He was still probably just wandering around somewhere on the Asian continent, but we weren't sure just exactly where he was. Only recently have we received any news of him at all."
"He's here in Shanghai."
"Yep. A well-known Shanghai crime syndicate calling themselves the Defenders of Righteousness have invited our little wandering warrior for a reception early tomorrow morning. We aren't aware of the exact details, why they want him, or even whether or not this Ryu knows who he's dealing with. Of course that's where you come in, Chunny! Interpol expects you to be at the meeting area promptly at two o'clock tomorrow morning. You remember the address, right?"
"Yes." She muffled her voice, stifling her tone so no one else could hear, "52375 Zheng Zhou street."
"Right. Its an old, abandoned munitions factory— the perfect kind of place to hold a secret early-morning rendezvous. Interpol wants you to investigate. It's a basic observation mission— tell us why they're meeting, what this organization wants with him, why he is there in the first place... all that good stuff. You got all that?"
"Yes, inspector Jiang." She gave a short sigh, "Now are you done?"
"Oh… just… one more thing. Interpol wants me to make sure that you don't…" He paused, as if not sure of a definitive way to finish the sentence, "… that you don't… you know…"
"Hou?"
"Look… just… don't do anything rash, ok?"
"Rash?" she leaned back in her seat, a slight frown beginning to work its way over the delicate lines of her brows, "What are you saying?"
"Look, Chunny." She could hear him sigh on the other end, "I know you wouldn't have accepted this assignment if it didn't involve this Ryu character. Now I know you've been through a lot, but you can't just…"
"What are you saying?!" she repeated, her tone slightly rising, "That I'd place my personal desires over the assignment?"
"No no! All I'm saying is…"
"Look, Hou, I don't need you to tell me about what I should or should not do. I think I have more than enough…"
"Jeez Chunny, settle down." His voice wavered over the cell-phone, as if he was distinctly uncomfortable with what he had to say, "All I'm saying is that… it's no secret to any of us just how much this assignment may mean to you. Interpol just wants to make sure you do your job right. That you don't… do… something you're not supposed to. Alright, Chunny?"
"Fine." She responded with a frown, forcibly controlling herself from saying anything else, "Is that all?"
"That's it. And… just be sure to take care of yourself, okay? I'll check back on you in the morning."
"I will." she let out another sigh, "Bye, Hou."
"Alright. I'll talk to you later."
Chun-Li flipped the cell-phone closed, with a final sigh shoved it rather unceremoniously into the brown traveler's bag under the seat in front of her. Just what exactly had Hou been saying? That she would somehow botch the assignment? That somehow her own desires and personal wishes would get in the way of mission objectives? Desires? Just what was this 'desire' anyway?
Revenge.
"What an ugly word." She mumbled to herself, leaning her head back against the comforting softness of the airplane seat. An ugly word, but one that formed the whole basis for her life. Against Shadowloo. Against Bison. Now against this Ryu character who she hardly even knew. It was childish in a way… but she supposed in many ways she was still very much a child. When would she ever grow up?
Chun-Li turned her head to quietly peer out of the fortified glass of a nearby window, watching in silent thought as the flashing signal lights of the shadowy runway would ever so slowly inch their way across the glass' dark, reflective surface. Shanghai. The city of smog. In the far off distance she could make out the looming towers of the city's industrial center— a series of high-rises and soaring office complexes steeped in an all too bright assortment of glares and artificial lights: a ghost city, with spires reaching out like haggard claws from the ground's shadowy surface, pale luminance glowing hauntingly against the darkness of the early night. It was a far cry from the humble village streets and rolling pasturelands of the countryside. Frightening, disquieting, disturbing… and yet at the same time more familiar, so much more real to her then the calm tranquility of the rural countryside. In a way, she was glad she had left.