Chapter 3: Ambivalence

(Author's Note: I've decided to swap back to the KOF 2000 Striker System, because the KOF 2001 version sucks. However, the characters are still their KOF 2001 versions.)

Inside the hospital, everything was quiet. It was already long past visiting hours, and even the most die-hard guests had left.

Two people still remained, seated outside the place's main operating theatre. Ryan leaned back against the bench's backing, seemingly at complete ease with the world. Idly, he tossed the device retrieved from Yiming's body in his hand.

Jiazheng had headed back to the hotel first.

With a sigh, Ryan stood up, and began pacing once more. He was getting nervous. It had been an entire day since Andro and Chan had been put into there, and there still hadn't been any news about them.

At that moment, the doors swung open, and a masked doctor burst out.

Ryan was on him in a flash.

"WHERE ARE THEY? WHAT HAPPENED?"

"Good news. Your friends are on the road to full recovery. Andro just needed some stitches, and a dose of antivenin. He can head back today. As for Chan…Well, I've never seen anything like his case before. As soon as we stitched his wounds together, they began closing. He'll be limping for a few weeks, but should be okay."

The boy relaxed, releasing the man's collar.

"Good. That's good to hear."

He removed a small wad of cash, and handed it to the doctor.

"Keep him safe. Chan'll be able to leave by himself tomorrow, alright?"

"I…I understand."

The man was already flipping through the bills when Ryan left.

**************

The Next Day…

"Yo! Look who's back!"

Chan walked in through the door, with barely a limp. He had a bandage wrapped round his head, making it look like some kind of oversized turban. Personally, at the rate his wounds were healing, he felt he wasn't going to need it in a few days.

Andro leaned casually against the wall, as quiet as always. Jiazheng was seated at the small coffee table, reading the newspaper. Both flipped him a mock salute as he walked in.

Chan glared at both of them. He had a splitting headache, and wasn't in the mood for any of their tricks.

Ryan burst out from the bathroom, his toothbrush still in hand. A white froth covered his mouth, dripping onto the carpet floor. He looked so ludicrous that Chan almost laughed. Almost.

"Hey! Nice hat, Chan!"

"…Shut up…"

"Never knew you liked turbans, though. It sure goes well with your coat…"

            BLAM!!!

            Sudden silence filled the room. Chan lowered his smoking weapon, and heaved a sigh of relief.

            "Look, I don't feel like myself today, okay? Getting piledriven into concrete, and trying to heal yourself later kinda sucks. I got this really bad headache…"

            He spun the Mage Cannon for emphasis. Every pair of eyes in the room followed the motion. The gun somehow ended up back in his holster.

            "…And I don't care what I have to do to stop it. So keep quiet."

            Everyone started talking at once, in hushed voices.

            "…Sorry, man. We were just kidding, alright?"

            "Well, we have just the thing for you."

            "And that is?"

            "See, we haven't had our post-victory celebration yet, what with the fight and all. So…We intend to hit the town later tonight. Sounds great, doesn't it?"

            Jiazheng raised an eyebrow.

            "What'd you mean 'post-victory'? You guys ALWAYS celebrate after you win?"

            "Hey…Live for the moment, my friend. Live for the moment."

            Chan nodded. Though he was supposed to be the leader, how could anyone lead a group of students? Well, there wasn't much use in complaining.

            "Alright. Later, okay? But make that there's no…"

            He was cut off by a multitude of loud, noisy cheers.

**************

Later That Day…

            The Pao Pao Café #395 isn't a great place, after all's said and done.

            Sure, it has some of the charm of its now non-existent Southtown counterpart, and on any given night, the band rocks. But…It kinda has something of an identity crisis. Simply put, it tries too hard to be like the one in Southtown.

            When the doors were opened, music struck the boys like a concrete force, nearly blasting them right back out. It took an exertion of will to take the first few steps inside.

            Ryan signaled to the bartender, yelling to make himself heard.

            "Four of my usual! And a table at the back!"

            "There's one at the corner! It's empty!"

            A moment later, the group was seated in a dark corner away from the bar, with a pitcher of beer, a bottle of wine, two frosted mugs and two glasses.

            Ryan filled Jiazheng's mug for him, even as Andro and Chan reached for the glasses.

            "Drink up, man."

            "But I don't *like*---"

            "You do tonight. The entire point is to relax, and unwind."

            And, Ryan silently added, to get you roaring drunk. But he didn't say that out loud. Chan shot him a knowing grin, raising his glass in a salute. He would let Ryan handle this. Somehow, his heart wasn't really in this.

            In fact, Chan was thinking of something else entirely, about an encounter in this very bar a year ago…

            "Chan, you ain't touching your drink. Something wrong?"

            "No, nothing.

            He gulped down the entire drink, wincing as the alcohol hit his head like a punch in the face. Swallowing, Chan shoved the glass forward, ignoring the odd looks he was receiving from the others.

            "Another round, guys. What?"

            The drinking commenced.

**************

            "…And so I told Faye: 'Hey! You don't do that to anyone here!'"

            Jiazheng paused for effect, gesturing wildly at everything and nothing.

            "…No matter how much he liked it! AHAHAHAHAHA!!!!"

            Ryan grinned slightly, refilling his mug again. Around them, the place was littered with empty pitchers, as well as two bottles of wine. Andro and Chan had already stopped drinking, sipping idly at their last glasses.

            An experienced drinker, Ryan wasn't even feeling the buzz from his own mugs. Jiazheng…Well, Jiazheng was completely smashed.

            The swordsman got up for emphasis, reaching over the table for a still-full pitcher. It took three tries before he got it right. Then, unsteadily, he tried to sit down. If Andro hadn't shoved the chair under him, he would've fallen.

            Chan shook his head, feeling faintly…disgusted.

            He pushed his chair away, and got up, setting his glass down.

            "I'm going for a walk, guys. See you later."

            Ryan barely seemed to hear him, already busy with yet another mug. If not his iron-hard constitution, he would've already been on the floor. As such, he was still in relative control of his bodily functions…But, probably not for much longer.

            Andro nodded absently, focusing more on the house band than anything else.

            "Sure…See you later, Chan."

**************

            The night air was nice and cool. The moment Chan stepped out, he felt the alcoholic vapors begin to clear from his mind. With a sigh of relief, he began to walk away, feeling more and more sober with each step.

His feet took him through the centre of a funfair of some sort. The happy crowds were all around him, most out for some light holiday shopping right before Christmas. No one recognized Chan. He didn't fit in, simply enough. Even his clothes and hair drew glances from passerbys.

Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't even notice them.

            With the precision of a surgeon, Requiem's arm emerged from somewhere overhead, giving Chan a hard tap to the back of his skull. The teenager swore, knocked out of his ruminations.

            "Damn, that hurt! Don't DO that!"

            No answer. Chan sighed. Requiem was supposed to be his spirit, no matter how twisted it had become. When the visual representation of your soul strikes you over the head…Geez, how pathetic is that?

            It was worrying, in a way. Ever since the Zero Cannon incident, Chan's control over Requiem had lessened. The Stand still obeyed him, but there was a sense of…Reluctance. That was something new.

World-Eater had not true personality, always remaining quiet an unobserved at the back of his head. Requiem…Well, Requiem lived. He had a feeling it wanted to be free.

With a shrug, he dismissed those thoughts. Chan still had the Mage Cannon, and his blue energy, after all. He wasn't completely helpless, anyway. For some reason or another, he had ended up somewhere in the slum areas, which happened to be oddly quiet at this time of the year…

            There was a sudden burst of sound and light, from one of the side streets. Gunfire.

            Now that explained the silence. But who was doing the shooting? More importantly, exactly what were they shooting at?

            Chan drew the Mage Cannon, and ran in that direction. He didn't give himself time to think about what he was doing.

**************

"Chan's sure takin' a loooooooooong tiiiiiiiiiiiime...bwaaaaaaaaaaahhh..." Jiazheng barely managed.  Given the many, *many* empty mugs that lay beside him, it was a wonder that he'd been able to say that much.

Ryan, who'd stopped drinking a while ago, agreed. 

"No kidding."

He then took one look at Jiazheng, and decided, "Okay, I shouldn't let you get up. Hey, where're the drinks stored?  I'll get us some new bottles myself."

Andro considered this for a while, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. Something was bothering him, though he couldn't quite name it…

"Yeah, whatever. Just a few a more drinks, and we head back."

**************

Sergeant Davis, late of the Ikari Warriors, was not having a good day.

He would never get used to this job, no matter what. It was hard enough dealing with normal soldiers, already. Battling half-human monstrosities and clones were even worse. And searching for them right in the middle of a huge city, was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Especially this one. He had lost half his men, in an attempt to bring it down. Of the fifteen left with him, seven were suffering from severe frostbite. The rest were already tired, injured, and basically pissed off.

But now, the chase was almost over. They had it cornered, with every man who could hold a weapon sealing off any possible exits. There was only one way out, and it was through them.

Davis spotted a brief flash of white hair, and the sound of running footsteps. The trap had been sprung.

"All units, fire at will. Repeat, all units, fire at…"

He never finished his sentence. Someone crashed into him, knocking them both onto the floor. Davis swore, and shoved his assailant away. His gun swung up…

Then Davis froze.

"Hey! You're Chan 'Burnout', the KOF Champion! This is a military operation, man! Get outta…"

He shouldn't have wasted his breath.

"REQUIEM PUNCH!!!"

The next moment, Davis was lying on the floor, his broken body unconscious.

"Sorry 'bout that. But you're no fan of mine."

Chan kicked the rifle away, into a pile of garbage at the side. Then, he took a deep breath, summoned up the last of his courage, and headed right on. Something big was happening, and he intended to be the first to find it.

**************

Andro was bored.

Watching Ryan drink himself into a stupor had been fun at first, but it kinda lost its novelty after a while. Jiazheng was now well and truly out of it, completely and utterly stone drunk. The swordsman was unconscious, blissfully asleep on the tabletop.

"Ryan, it's time to go."

No answer. Ryan's glazed eyes were locked on the bottom of his mug, never moving and never blinking.

"C'mon, Ryan. We'll drop Jiazheng off in the hotel, then go find Chan. I have a feeling that he's in trouble again."

Still no answer. With a sigh, Andro reached over, and retrieved the ice bucket. Well, if it had worked last year…

Ryan received a wave of ice cubes and freezing water over the head. Spluttering, he sat bolt upright, glaring at Andro, even as he began to shudder.

"Curse…Curse…you…Why does everyone do that…"

"Shaddup. We're going. NOW."

The two heaved their friend between them, and staggered out, arguing over who was supposed to pay the bill.

**************

            Kula slumped against the wall of the alley, completely exhausted. She clutched the ragged bullet wound in her arm, as she considered all that had gone wrong.

            Mere hours ago, she'd been chatting with sister Angel, in a comfortable hideout somewhere south of here. Then, the windows had exploded, and the bad men had burst in, firing and firing…

            Kula had run, fleeing in the first direction she had seen. She didn't know where the others were, and didn't even know whether they were alive. All around her, the girl could hear the Ikari Warriors closing in.

            More than anything else, Kula didn't want to die.

            She stole another glance at her bandaged arm. A lucky shot had blown a hole right through, clipping flesh but missing bone. Blood seeped through the cloth hurriedly wound around it, trickling out drop by slow drop. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear footsteps, closing in…

            Kula raised her unwounded hand. She wasn't going down without a fight…

            The hand fell, as she realized who it was.

            "CHAN? Why…why are you…"

            "I'll tell you later. Could we get outta here first? There's this guy I knocked out, and he might be waking up anytime soon…"

            "I'm not going with you! Not until I know why!"

            "Suit yourself. You're injured, I'm not. You also have no idea whatsoever of how to leave. To put it this way…"

            Chan cast a cautious glance over his shoulder. He couldn't wait much longer.

            "You don't have a damn choice. Now follow me."

            Dully, Kula allowed herself to be led away. Once more, it no longer mattered what she did. It never did.

**************

            After dropping Jiazheng back off at the room, Andro and Ryan hit the streets again, ostensibly to find their unofficial leader. Strictly speaking, their plan involved more guesswork than anything else. They intended to walk down random paths, till they banged into Chan. Failing that, they intended to find someplace that sold good food at this time of the night.

Halfway down the metaphorical beaten path…

"GIMME ALL YOUR MONEY, BOYZZZ!"

Andro never looked up, and Ryan just kept walking.

"Aw...c'mon guyzz...just gimme your money, and I won't have to cut ya!"

Andro stopped, and gritted his teeth. He turned and looked back at their assailant. He was a grimy man with a neon-green mohawk wearing some sort of plastic serape. In his hand, he had two short, dagger-style knives, which were blunt and rusty enough as to be more of a threat to wielder than to victim.

"Look...Would you just give it up? This NEVER works!"

"Waitzz…You're Andro. I've studied all your moves…You can't hope to beat me! Look! I brought me mates!!!"

Several small, skinny forms poured out from the shadows, sharp-edged and vaguely shiny objects in their hands. They would've been a threat…If they weren't such complete amateurs.

Ryan sighed, and crackled his knuckles, in the anticipation of hitting someone. Hard.

"Well, shall we get started?"

Andro held his arms out, slightly to the side. His own razor-sharp blades slid out, with a nasty-sounding klink.

Several of the punks gulped. Their leader, in an attempt to provide an example for his men, promptly lunged forward, swinging his cheap knives from side to side.

In a swift motion, Andro tripped him, stomped on his arms, and kicked him into his friends, sending the entire group crumpling to the ground. Calmly, he tossed the man's own knives back to him. They stuck, blade-first in the ground, quivering slightly. Both blades were artistically located inches from the poor bastard's nose.

"Wanna try again?"

The punk took a single look at his weaponry, another look at Andro, and promptly headed for the hills.

"Dumbasses…"

"Hey, look! They're getting up!"

"More work for us, then. Think they'll miss a few organs?"

**************

            After three-quarters of a bottle of water, and some aspirin bought over-the-counter at a nearby store, Kula began to feel more like her old self. The wound in her arm still hurt, but not as much as it previously had. Only an occasional twinge reminded her it was still there. Of course, she intended to take a more careful look at it later…

            Chan, for his own part, was extremely uncomfortable. He simply couldn't think of any logical reason why he was doing what he had done.       

            They walked on in silence, as Chan took a path that would lead them right back to the safer part of the city. There was some distance left to go, but it wasn't really a problem.

            Somewhere in the back of his head, Chan's mind went through a short argument with itself.

            Why in hell did you help her? She tried to kill you.

            …She was hurt, and in trouble. Where's your sense of chivalry?

Where's your sense of SELF-PRESERVATION? She probably doesn't even like you, asshole.

You speak only of yourself.

That's beside the point. Just shoot her in the head, and run off. No one will notice.

…She's even cuter than she used to be, you know. Where's the harm?

A pause in the internal monologue.

Aww, to hell with it. I'll just ask a few questions.

Knew that would work. ^_^

Shut up.

He shot a glance at Kula from the side. Well, the hentai side of his brain was probably right, as always, but he intended to ignore that, focusing on one major point: SHE HAD TRIED TO KILL HIM. Somehow, it always came back to that.

Kula looked back at him oddly, as if wondering what in hell he was thinking about. It was a legit question, as he didn't know either.

"So…" Chan decided to begin with a few casual questions.

"Exactly what happened to you? I mean, why were you hiding out in an alleyway somewhere, with a group of heavily-arms troops after you?"

Moments after he said that, he mentally kicked himself.

Way to go. Only an idiot would answer that.

"Well…We were attacked. These bad guys broke in, and wanted to kill us. They tried to shoot big sister Diana, but I think she made it. We were separated in the commotion, and…and…It's been a day since I've since them…"

Kula snuffled slightly, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

Chan kicked himself again.

"Geez, I'm sorry to even bring that up. Just to ask, anyway…How many of your friends are here?"

"Oh, there's brother K'9999, sister Angel, big sister Diana and big sister Foxy. That makes five of us!"

"Uh-huh. And what are they doing here?

"We're taking part in the tournament! Isn't that great?"

Kula let off a beaming smile, switching from angst to joy-joy in several seconds. Chan felt his danger sense tingling, as it always did. The urge to attack became more and more unbearable…

"You know, Chan, you're a nice guy."

"Hmm?"

"All this while, and you never mentioned anything about…Last year."

"Yeah, okay. It's not really important."

Increasingly uncomfortable, Chan shifted from foot to foot. He had to get back, and warn the others! In fact, he wanted anything other than to be walking right next to Kula at this point in time. Alarms were going off in the back of his head. They were alternately yelling RUN. NOW. Or, KILL.

"Well…Aren't you angry?"

Requiem shattered a nearby wall with a single punch.

"Angry? What gave you that thought? Why SHOULD I be angry?"

"Oh."

Silence.

"Look. I need to get back home now, alright? I'll see you again sometime. Unless…You need help or something?"

"No…I think I can find the others myself. Bye, Chan! Thanks for everything!"

            Chan turned, and ran off, taking the path that he knew would lead him right back. The sooner he told the others of NESTS response, the better. Kula showing up, the NESTS team entering the competition…How more coincidental could you get?

He put on a burst of speed, accelerating even faster. It was time to implement the plans they had discussed a while ago.

**************

            Ryan let the last man's broken body drop, dusting his hands on his pants.

            "Exactly what were on, you think? Less than half ran away even after I electrified one!"

            "For you, yes. Most of mine crapped their pants."

            "You didn't have to go through that display, you know. Why'd you go and use Massacre on the guy who fell? He'll need therapy for the rest of his life."

            "Huh. At worse, he'll have nightmares that he died and went to hell. Nothing major."

            The two turned away, dismissing the pile of unconscious men as a threat. Then, Ryan and Andro got ready to walk off…

            "BURN KNUCKLE!!!"

            "AIEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!"

            Suddenly on the defensive once more, they spun, assuming their respective stances once more.

            A man, clad in a outfit vaguely like that of a pizza delivery man, stood above one of the thugs. The punk's broken hand still clutched the trigger of a gun…But due to the massive fist-print on his face, he was never going to fire it. Ryan recognized him immediately.

            "T…Terry…Bogard…"

            The legendary Lone Wolf turned, a favored Ryan with a smile.

            "Hey! I recognize you too. Ryan Lim, wasn't it? The previous champion? Nice fighting style, too."

            "Uh…Yeah! That's me! How'd you know?"

            "Television, you know. Information travels much faster now."

            Terry turned, taking in Andro with a trained eye. He extended a hand towards the assassin, the one that no longer glowed with power.

            "And you must be Andro. I've heard a lot about you."

            Andro watched the conversation with interest, raising an eyebrow in puzzlement. Upon realizing that he wasn't going to get a response, Terry let his hand drop.

            "Ryan, you know him?"

            "Andro, that's TERRY BOGARD! The living LEGEND!"

            "Then why does he look like a pizza boy?"

            Terry frowned slightly at that, a brief flash of irritation passing across his face. But as soon as it had appeared, it was gone. Abruptly, the man turned, tilting his ever-preset red cap.

            "Well, I just stopped by to say hi. See you next week, champs. Good luck."

            He turned and walked off, quickly fading away beyond the dim pool of the streetlights.

            "Huh. The living legend? Doesn't look particularly special to me…"

            "…Andro, you know. Geez. Nevermind."

**************

It was another hour before Chan reached home.

Panting, he crashed through the door, looking like he'd just run the marathon. Sweat stained his jacket, as he gasped like a fish out of water.

Once again, his teammates weren't exactly surprised.

"Yo! Where were you, our fearless leader?"

"We spent an hour looking for you. It's twelve midnight. What was going on??"

Managing to catch his breath, Chan looked up, assuming his standard calm demeanor…Just barely.

"We have to talk. Now."

**************

Later…

            "So. That's NESTS second team, ain't it?"

            "Yes. I'm sure of it."

            "Hmmph."

            Chan shoved his chair back and slightly, and leaned back, rubbing his eyes. Even the luxurious room seemed somehow diminished, in the light of the bleak news brought up. Andro was resharpening his weapons, the way he always did, as Ryan leaned against the wall. The impromptu meeting had been going on for quite a while, fraying the nerves of all assembled.
            It was time to wrap things up.

            "God, I'm tired. Those bastards at NESTS seem to be considering us as a serious threat. They even assembled some of our classmates to fight us. How low is that?"

            Ryan chuckled, at Chan's short speech.

            "Aren't you doing the same thing, Chan? You managed to charm all this info out of your…"

            ***Click***

            "I could put a hole through your head with this, Ryan. Back way the hell off."

            "…Well, there's only one thing we can do, guys."

            Ryan and Chan both turned to look at Andro, whose movements never ever changed.

            "And that is? Tell us now, man. Don't do it later by yourself."

            "We kill them."

            The words were delivered in a perfectly calm tone. It was as though Andro was discussing the weather.

            "They'll want to do the same thing to us, won't they? So we go on the offensive. We hit them before they hit us."

            Ryan coughed slightly, face hidden behind his hand.

            "Sorry, Andro. But murder's not my style. Besides, it'll be too obvious. And…We'll never get Jiazheng to go along with it. He'll might make things…Difficult."   

            Chan shook his head too, not looking at his friends.

            "No killing. No unnecessary deaths, at least. We want to kill the bastard who's behind this, not his soldiers."

            And there's another reason why you don't want them dead too, his mind added, silently mocking him. Or at least, why you don't want a certain someone dead, no matter how much you try to deny it.

            Shut up.

            "Their head probably won't even care. And…The cops might be brought down on us. We'll never get a shot at the leader."

            Andro took this silently, seemingly in deep thought.

            "I didn't say that we should actively hunt them down. I meant that we should use their own weapons against them."

            "Elaborate."

            "The tournament. Accidents happen all the time, don't they? Fatal ones, too. That should send them a message all right."

             "Jiazheng would never agree…"

            "Damn him and the horse he rode in on. What does it matter? So we don't let him fight. We don't know what he can do, anyway. The only reason why he's here is for someone to replace Ogion."

It would work.

            "Good idea, Andro. Maybe we should do just that."

            Ryan was in full agreement, a murderous gleam in his eyes.

            "Best of all, no one can fault us for it. All in the heat of the moment, right?"

            "Then we're agreed. All except…"

            As one, both Andro and Ryan turned to face Chan.

            "Well? Are you with us, oh Almighty Leader?"

            Forcing a smile, Chan nodded briefly.

            "Then we're agreed."

            "Let's just call it a night, okay? We have a match next week, against the Fatal Fury Team. Get some sleep, guys. It's been a long day."

            "Oh, and talking 'bout that subject…"

            "Tomorrow, guys. Tomorrow."

            And that was all.

(Whew. Writing this chapter was extremely difficult, and there're probably a few parts left unpolished. Sorry for the long wait, guys. My computer's Internet was down, leaving me with no way to upload it. Besides, what with homework and all…E-learning week's a killer. This chapter marks a 'darker' change to the story, though I'll try to keep it lighthearted. If you have any suggestions, please e-mail me at burnout02urza@yahoo.com . And yes, most of the reviews are from my classmates ^_^. Thanks for your support, guys. Until next time…Bye!)