Kyodai (Siblings)

Disclaimer/AN: SNK shall never die so long as fans still remember it; broke fans like me who, by the way, do not own the company in anyway. Or KOF. Or Playmore. So don't sue poor little old me. Beware of small character bashings! Most Japanese reference is mentioned in the previous chapter and newer ones are marked with * and explained at the end. R/R please! '_'

We walked out for…God knows how long. I wasn't really paying attention to anything anyways. Hurt too much to care. All that really got through was how much I hated the damn sun stinging my eyes and how much of a dumbass I was for leaving my good shades at that fake hotel. Guess my head was still as numb as hell from that damned SDM.

Nothing really got through to me. Which was actually as weird-ass as my memories because I'm always thinking about five billion freaking things at once. I just…I dunno. It was like I was stoned or something; I just didn't feel anything.

Now I really was a bleeding walkin' vegetable. The bitches said that this was the reason why I should have gone on a break all of those god-forsaken times, but I never bought into their bull. How the hell should I know why my damned head does this anyway? Just thinking was too much for me.

All I remember is following Shingo to this shitty barbeque and that he told me to wait somewhere. Everything else before is just too goddamn fuzzy to remember any of them. I think…I just watched the waves…

…The sea… I think I remembered something when I saw it… Something that I thought I knew. Something that wasn't as fake as hell like all the other damn things I came to know. It was… I dunno… something real. Something that made me know that my whiny-ass sister really is my whiny-ass sister.

It was when I was still a brat…just a kid who was five times as stupid as any other brat that was there. They were training us. Butchering us was more like it. Once a week, they'd make us do these damned 'stretching tests' where'd they'd tie our hands together behind our heads and tried to make us do something like jump over this freaking 15 foot wall, with only one of your stubby-ass legs. I was just a kid too…barely old enough to say 'damn' and understand it.

If you made it by doing some freaky-ass leap, you'd get 10 lashings. If you were able to make it half way, you'd get 50 less lashings for not being able to do it. And that was 100. And a sure fire way to get splattered in front of everybody.

For some reason -and I dunno why - they had this music playing in there that had 'nobility fag' and 'pansy-ass aristocrat' plastered all over it. Had a whole bloody orchestra in there or something every godforsaken time we were there. It made me so goddamn mad every time I'd hear it.

I wanted to beat the living shit of the guys laughing at us from behind that damned window, but I was just a stupid kid. I couldn't have done anything then even if I wanted to. Probably still the same…

            Yeah, just another reason why I hate those damned NESTS.

            Anyhow, there was this one time where me and a lotta other kids busted outta there and tried to get out. We were running for our freaking lives that day, and those people didn't even give a damn whether or not we fell for some of their freaking laser booby traps and got out of them alive. There were two boys who got caught. I never saw them again. I was running the whole damn time and I was dragging this girl with me. We barely nicked by one of those traps when a damn guard caught up to us.

I took him down with the 'three kicks': one to the shin, one to the crotch, and one to the head. Bloody idiot was no machine so I was lucky. Damn lucky. I had to thank one of the kids who taught me that, but I'm pretty sure he's dead now.

At first, I was proud but…it felt like I really didn't do it. Like I was another one of them dumbass guards. A thing that might as well be tossed out like trash. A thing that people step their freaking steeled-toed boots on. A thing that had someone else memories and could only talk using their words. Thinking like that made me feel helpless…

I hate that feeling.

I was mulling over this too long 'cause I didn't even hear the girl crying next to me. I just saw her bawling her eyes out, upset as all hell. Fists over her eyes, mouth wailing…God, I even zoned her out then. I just saw her lips move. I shouldn't worry her like that or I should be more careful next time…she said stuff like that. I remember her crying; I just didn't hear her whining.

Probably should've though 'cause then the guy who'd give the lashings came to us. I don't remember what exactly he looked like; just some gay-ass coat and a stupid mustache. The kids would point out how 'dorky' and 'lame' he'd be, but they'd shut their mouths when he came around. I'd usually join in 'cause I hated the rat bastard as much as anyone of them. Right at that moment, though, I couldn't say a damn word. Not even to my sister who was shaking the hell outta me. Didn't mean that I wasn't going to do anything though.

  He was about ready to say something when I spat in his eyes and made a break for it with… Whip. We were running to a light we saw from the outside. Another guard came in front of us. This time I didn't even stop; I just kept going. It gets a little blurry what exactly happens, but I'll keep on going just for the hell of it.

Anyways, this other guard came in front of us with a whip. I was still looking over my shoulder for that 'Hitler freak' so I didn't see him. My sis did though, and actually caught the tip of the blasted thing with her freaking bare hands. Before she could lose to the bloody tug-of-war, I gave the moron the 'three kicks' and he was down. Tch, the worst waste of a thousand dollars: invest it into security guards who can easily get their ass whooped by two measly kids.

A couple other guards were about as pathetic as this sucker. They aren't even worth mention so I'll just skip ahead.

We made it to the light. Screw whatever, sis thought! We were going to make it! I don't have to have to hold sis' hand anymore because we both knew where to go now! We're gonna be free!

I actually remember my feet pounding on that metal floor…I remember the sun stinging my eyes when we first saw its light. I remember sis laughing as she ran faster and ahead of me. I remember not giving a damn whether or not there was a trap somewhere up ahead. I kept thinking that this was the last time I'd have to hear the damned music and me and sis would be free from NESTS.

Then, when we got there, all we saw was the sea. No floor beyond the spot where we stood. Just the blue waves a fucking fifty feet below us.

Whip didn't see the floor had given out below us, so she tried to catch the edge with her whip. Nothing was there though; it couldn't latch on to anything. I ended up catching the end of it and watching her dangle from it. You'd think that'd give me a smug satisfaction…but it doesn't.

I tried to pull her up, but, with my puny-ass muscles, it didn't happen. It felt like my whole damn body was going to be ripped off with her. I was going to try harder and that's when… God, I'm not screwing around I say this…

And that's when, for some God-awful reason, I swore I could hear that damned orchestra playing in my head.

Then that damned 'Hitler wannabe' caught up with us and…

I tried to protect to her… I think. I dunno; something happened… I can't remember. It's basically a whole load of shit from there. Maybe if…nah, nothing's coming up. Ask my whiny-ass sister about the rest 'cause that's all I can remember. All that I know is that she made it out and hopped into the military while I was eventually injected with that damned Kuzanagi's DNA or something and grew up to be a natural freak to society.

Anyways, Yabuki came back with some food before I could think about it anymore. It left a sour taste in my mouth so I was once again glad that he came around. The thought of me actually caring for my whiny-ass sister usually does.

Maxima has the freaking guts to say that being with her has actually softened me up a bit but he's wrong; it's making me more pissed off. Where does he go by saying this anyways? He doesn't know me. He's just someone who used to be paid to protect me back in that shitty '99 tournament. Now he's just trying to be a parent to me…or something. He's already got a wife somewhere so I'm just wondering why he just doesn't go back to Canada for her. Well, I think he's got a wife 'cause I remember someone saying he did.

 Yabuki began talking before I could think about it anymore.

"Here, try this! It's made of beef and it's a little tender. I don't remember what Kim-san had said it was, but it's something that his wife made for the occasion. Terry-san likes it a lot too! Try some!"

Looked like shit-on-a-stick but I tried it anyways. Still looked better than half of the other food I saw some people scarping. I swallowed that damned thing as fast as I could. When he asked how'd it taste five times, I said:

"It's lousy…"

"Eh?! It's not good? Aw, I thought you'd like it because it's beef! I couldn't find any beef jerky so I thought that that would do be the same. Ah, it must be the texture of it right? It's not the same so you don't like it! Oh, and since it doesn't have the toughness you can't rip it apart like you would with jerky! Okay, now I see. Next time I'll be careful and I'll be sure to give you something that you'd like."

You know, maybe this was one of the reasons why I could stand Yabuki: he'd answer himself with what I was thinking before I even have to say anything. I didn't know if this was something he did all the time, but when he'd 'talk' to me he was always like this. Annoying sometimes but at least he saves me the trouble of doing anything. Too bad my whiny-ass sister doesn't do that.

We took off anyways when I was finished with the beef…thing. Doing this actually reminded of that one time where we stole Maxima's 'bike' and went out for awhile just for the hell of it. It was awhile before we would have the chance to fight in another round of that damned KOF and I was bored enough to do it. We went out up into the mountains and saw the lake. We saw some people skinny-dipping too nothing else really. He blabbered all about how worried he was about that Kuzunagi bastard, this Yuki chick, how he wanted to learn how to create a flame like I did… lots of things. How his parents worried about him entering tournaments, how he would worry about this test in some class in school, how he was going to spend time with his girlfriend tomorrow.

Listening to him made me think…

…that maybe I could do the same…

…that if I were to actually live by my own ambitions…

            Well…I'm getting too damn sentimental… I need some beer…

I wanna momentarily blab out something here 'cause I've got the time and the patience to do it and practically no one else is reading this-which means I have the excuse to manipulate this to whatever means I deem necessary, so there: P.

For a while, I just forgot that I even wrote this. I just wasn't inspired for some reason. So I went to the Getty Museum in LA and I saw this display thingy that they got there called 'Passions'…er, or at least I think that's what it was called –stupid neko get no sleepy so get no memory _.

Anyways, it was basically a trippy video tour thingy where they slow-mowed 'actors' who tried to portray basic emotions like sadness, happiness, frustration…the works. I'd have to actually say that I pretty much thought that most of it was kinda lame, but there was this one screena-mabobber that showed people looking down at something and walking away looking depressed and stuff. You don't see what they're so upset about seeing because the way that it was positioned only showed the people. One or two of their expressions just made me say "Well, everybody kinda does that." (i.e. a lady crying, a man looking back while walking away, yadda yadda), but the very last guy just looks. He doesn't walk away, he's not crying, he's not doing any final rights or anything like that. He just stands there with these desolate eyes and looks.

And then I thought, "That reminds me of that dysfunctional punk, K'." So that's the real reason why I wanna post another chapter. BTW, you can go to the Getty if you want and tell me how wrong I am in my lame interpretation; just tell me what else you've thought about all those other display thingies they've got and we're even. :)

R/R! Reviews are what keep me going. _