A short haired girl brought her hands up and adjusted the sailor collar of the uniform. It was wrinkled from being crushed under one of the piles of clothes that littered her bedroom. She pressed her hands down onto her chest and ran them down her body, attempting to smooth out the fine creases, but her efforts were in vain.
She pulled out a long, white headband from the pocket of her skirt, stained brown from the unwashed sweat from previous street fights. To her, this headband represented the fight. Without it, she was a normal teenage school girl, she was just Sakura Kasugano. But when it was tied firmly onto her head, with its tails whipping gracefully behind her in the wind, she was a street fighter.
But that's not why Sakura first put on the headband. She turned around to face the walls of her room, plastered with pictures of the famous street fighter, Ryu. It was him. It was that look of a champion that never left his face, that look of determination, and the modesty of his skills that inspired her to become a street fighter herself.
Sakura took the headband, lying limp in her small hands, pressed her forehead against its middle, and tied it around her head firmly, making sure to make a double knot so it wouldn't slip out. She pulled hard while tying the headband, as if it would suppress the beating of her heart, threatening to beat through her ribcage. She wasn't going to school today. The Street Fighter Tournaments were being held today at the Osaka dome, a large building built in a dome shape, famous for hosting many events, situated in downtown Osaka city, Japan. Sakura was planning to get there by train.
She stuck her hands in her pockets, patting them down for change and smiled, upon the hearing the soft clinking sound of coins. She grasped them eagerly and pulled them out of her pockets, counting them carefully. One thousand yen was enough for a one way trip, but how was she going to get back home? Who cared? She was going to the street fighter tournaments to meet Ryu! For all she cared, he could take her away forever and she'd be more than happy with it.
Sakura snapped out of her daze, finding herself staring blankly at the ceiling with her hands clasped in front of her. Her face hurt from grinning. She glanced at her dresser, looking at the five thousand yen bill sitting modestly on the table. That was her ticket into the event later today. She grabbed the bill, not caring whether in crumpled in her grip, and dashed swiftly out her room, down the stairs, and out the door into the beckoning world.
* * *
At first, the mumbling was only a murmur, quiet enough to allow him to sleep on. But gradually, it got louder and louder as more people seemed to gather around him. He opened his eyes, only to be met with complete darkness. The shock of panic gripped his heart for a moment, but then he remembered the cardboard box he now slept in. It's your new home, remember? He thought to himself, trying to calm himself down. Yes. This was his home now. He'd only been living in this alley for four days, but it felt like an eternity.
It was hard to get used to. His neighbors were middle aged men dressed in heavy overcoats to shut out the winter cold. They were so old and unwashed, their stench contributed unselfishly to the alley. Their thick beards didn't help their cleanliness issues either, with bits of old food and alcohol clinging to the coarse hairs.
"Will I ever turn out like one of them?" the boy asked himself. He ran his hand across his chin, relieved to find no scratchy facial hair growing there. He sniffed himself, having the soft fabric of his T-shirt caress his tender nose. He didn't smell anything.
Something hit his box. "Kenny, wake up!" an older boy's voice yelled. "Something big is going on here, I mean really big!"
Kenny pushed open the flaps of the cardboard box. Standing in the early morning sunlight was Cranky, his friend. Since Kenny had hit the streets, Cranky had been there for him. In the four short days of his new life, the two had already grown to be good friends, if not, best friends. Survival on the streets of Osaka wasn't easy, but with a little teamwork, they were able to find the appropriate foot, clothes and shelter they needed.
The boys approached the tall brick wall that separated the Dome from the alley. It was too tall for either of them to see over it.
"I got an idea," Cranky said grinning, with a glint in his eye. "I'll hoist you up onto my shoulders. You tell me what you see, okay?"
Kenny hesitated. "I don't know if that's such a good idea," he replied timidly. "You know I'm scared of heights."
"So what do you want me to do?" Cranky asked, folding his arms. "You want to carry me? I'm a little bigger than you. I might squish you like a bug."
"Do we even have to see what's going on?"
"Yes. In big events like this, there's bound to be people with money. We can take their money and get ourselves some dinner tonight!"
Kenny still couldn't believe what he was hearing. Taking people's money was something he always believed to be wrong. "I don't know if I can do that," he said. "Won't somebody get mad?"
"Listen, Kenny," Cranky said, putting his hands on the younger boy's shoulders, "I know it's not a nice thing to do, but when you're like us, there's not a lot of other things we can do."
Kenny dropped his head in guilt. "Okay," he said. "I'll go see what's over the wall."
Cranky fell to his knees, allowing Kenny to step onto his shoulders. Holding the younger boy's ankles firmly with his hands, Cranky stood up slowly, feeling the vibrations of his friend's legs radiate throughout his body. "Just keep calm. When you get high enough, climb onto the wall and drop over the other side. Try and get some money from people. Make sure nobody sees you. They'll take you away if they catch you! And little boys are easier to take away than big people like me."
Kenny gripped the top of the wall, feeling its rough texture pierce his palms. He pulled himself up onto the top with Cranky's help, pushing his feet up. Kenny gasped in surprise at the amount of people he saw walking the Dome grounds. There were people of all ages and sizes, some looking quite threatening, others looking kind and harmless.
He saw the children with their parents, holding brightly colored balloons, singing cheerfully. Kenny used to be like this just a few weeks ago, until something happened to his family. He couldn't quite remember, but nevertheless, it was over with. It was time to move on.
"Hey, what's taking so long?" Cranky asked from below. "Jump down already!"
"I'm afraid of heights, Cranky," Kenny replied.
* * *
"Whoa, get a load of that!" a blond haired man wrapped his arm around his buddy's neck, pointing excitedly at the Dome in front of him with the other. "We're gonna be fighting in there!"
"Very exciting, Ken," the other man said, more concerned with his own discomfort that the building. He grabbed his friends arm and released himself from his grip.
"Sorry about that, Ryu," Ken said, "but you can't blame me for being psyched up about this year's Street Fighter event!"
Ryu adjusted the collar of his white T-shirt. He glanced up at the Dome in front of him, shielding his eyes from the sun's brilliant rays. The building was indeed a great work of architecture. The voices of the scores of people surrounding them were even greater. Ryu shifted uncomfortably as he stood. It wasn't the weight of the duffel bag that he carried with his arms. It was that he wasn't used to being in such crowded conditions. He preferred the peacefulness of a secluded dojo or temple. He enjoyed strolling on quiet mountain paths underneath the shade of trees, or meditating under the thundering rush of a waterfall. He rarely traveled to the city, except in cases like these, where there was a Street Fighter Tournament.
Ken noticed his friend's silent protest on the city environment and decided to say something. "It's as bad as you think it is," he said, patting him on the back.
"What isn't as bad as what?" Ryu asked, hoping to hide his discontent, but it was too late.
"You hate it here," Ken replied.
"No I don't," Ryu lied. "I will travel the world in search of a worthy opponent, no matter where it brings me. And wherever I go, I am honored to be there." Ken rolled his eyes.
The artificial, but effective heating system of the hotel was a welcome relief to Ryu. He stood in a neatly tiled washroom with the sound of the rushing water from the taps ringing in his ears. He scooped up a handful of the cold water and splashed it across his face, greasy from the tiring journey to the Dome. The cold was a welcome relief for the young warrior, who licked some of it up with his hot, dry tongue.
He twisted the knobs of the tap, and walked over to the towels. He tore one off the rack and pressed his face against it. It felt good to rub his eyes against something. He'd hardly slept the night before, after meeting with Ken then flying over here by plane.
The participants of the Street Fighter tournament were being housed in a four star hotel, all at the expense of the organizers of the event. Ryu wasn't used to such luxury, but over his repeated participation in the tournaments, he'd grown somewhat accustomed to the elaborate designs of the rooms, and their luxurious furniture. He'd slept all afternoon to make up for the lack of sleep for the day, and had just woken up to the city lights shining in the darkness of the night. Night time was meant for rest. He didn't understand how people in the city could stay awake at night. But with these shining lights assaulting him through the windows of his suite, he understood.
A knock sounded on the door. "One second," Ryu replied, as he threw the towel into the laundry bin. He headed quickly over to the door and pulled it open to see Ken standing there with a grin on his face. "What's up, Ken?"
"I thought we'd head out and see the city tonight," he replied. "I hear Osaka's famous for these octopus balls seasoned with batter and spices. Maybe we could go and try some."
For the first time since arriving, Ryu realized he was hungry. Plane food wasn't exactly something luxurious, and a dinner of some quality restaurant food tempted him. "Sure," he replied without hesitation, "let me just grab some cash."