There is a martial arts style that is quite unlike any other. It is not a sole discipline, persay, but a loose combination of several styles, surrounding a core focus, a power that held all the techniques and teachings together into one devastating art. The way of the Hadou is steeped in the arts of Ansatsuken, the killing fist. It is only one of many paths of Ansatsuken, perhaps one of the most deadly. The way of the Hadou is focused on concentrating your inner strength and power, your 'chi', and releasing it through the various techniques which the art is known for. A select few would recognize the art, likely mistaking it for a form of karate rather than the amalgamation of styles it truly is. Even fewer are blessed to know the art, as it has been only taught to a lucky, extremely dedicated few.
Over the years, its power has been honed, the art refined, until one such master of the Hadou developed a technique so deadly, it was said to have not only killed the only man it was used against, but given a glimpse of literal hell to not only him in his last moments, but to those who had witnessed it. The creator of this move, aware of the power invoked by this move, dubbed it the Satsui no Hadou, the 'Killing Intent', for only those who intended to kill his opponent would dare unleash it. While the whole of techniques that fell under the banner of this art used this power, it was this technique, the Shun Goku Satsu (otherwise dubbed the Raging Demon by the unlucky few who would witness the technique in later years) that defined the style. While its creator was satisfied with the technique, he would never use it again, believing it to be overkill.
This master of the Hadou, the creator of the Satsui no Hadou, had two students, each brother to the other. The younger was so focused in his goal to refine himself and the art into something almost godlike. The elder brother, horrified by the sheer power, refused to use it to its deadly potential for fear of what it might bring if it were ever refined further. While the younger would leave his teacher in hopes of perfecting the way of the Satsui No Hadou, the elder would soon become a teacher himself, taking upon two students of his own (as was common in this lineage of practitioners). He made sure that his students were aware of the Satsui No Hadou, but willed them never to invoke its power to such a dark extent.
His students would soon grow into promising martial artists in their own right. Satisfied that his path of the Hadou (a still impressive art despite the de-emphasis of its deadliest aspects) was a good one, he soon took on more students, hoping to spread the art as much as he could, bucking the tradition of his own teacher, and his teacher before him. And so the art grew, and in time, he hoped, the Satsui no Hadou would be forgotten, and the Shun Goku Satsu a mere legend….
Street Fighter:
The Path of Man
By Kryptik
Chapter 1: Looking Ahead
Disclaimer: Gouken, Ryu, Dan, Ken, and Gouki are all property of Capcom LTD., and used without permission for the sake of this story (please don't sue me, I'm a poor student).
All other characters are those of my own making, unless otherwise noted.
In a secluded dojo somewhere in the woods of Japan…
"My students, come to me!" an authoritative voice shouts across the training grounds, garnering a "HAI, SENSEI!" in response. Standing within the sparse walls of his dojo, a man of large stature (and possibly even larger rosary beads) stands, his thick arms folded over a barrel chest. Standing in his faded charcoal gi, the master of the Hadou known as Gouken looked over the forest, watching through the swaying branches at the training field his students were currently running away from. Nodding firmly, he methodically walked his way to the back of his dojo, stopping bare inches from the wall before he turned around and slowly lowered himself to the floor, legs folding in front of him. For all his discipline and training, age still gnawed at his bones. Even if he was a remarkable specimen of human achievement, 70 years will make anyone feel old.
As he waited, Gouken closed his eyes, meditating and clearing his mind of unnecessary thoughts, he contemplated the paths he and his students would take, and even the path his long estranged brother may have taken in his quest for perfection. Such thoughts were soon broken as the sound of feet upon stone echoed into his ears. His students had come.
Opening his eyes, he watched as his students, one in an off-white gi and another in a bright red, slowly lowered themselves to the floor, mirroring their teacher's posture. Reverently, they waited for several minutes until Gouken finally broke the silence in the room. "My students…you have come a long way. I have seen you progress in your training by the day, not only physically, but mentally and spiritually. It may not be long before I may be forced to refer to either of you as sensei."
"Sensei, don't be foolish! We could never replace you!" the one in the white-gi exclaimed, his measured tone unable to hide the strain in his voice.
"But you shall have to. I am as mortal as you are. Despite my training, I cannot undo the effects of time. It may be soon or it may be later, but I will die. And then someone will have to carry the art on," Gouken says, sighing heavily as he rests his hands on his knees. His flaring white beard bristles as the air passes through it. "I am sure when that comes, however, I will be glad to pass the honor to either of you.
Both his students look downcast at this admission, unsure of how to react. The red-gi'd student lets his head rise, mouth open to speak…before he thinks better of it and looks back down, frowning and instead choosing to stroke his ponytail nervously.
Sensing the awkwardness hovering over the room, Gouken opens his eyes and rises, looking down upon his prize pupils. "You, Ryu…you have grown much since I first found you as but a baby," he says, gaze directed toward the white-gi'd youth, no more than 16. His light brown hair, an odd feature for a Japanese man, hovered over the white headband around his forehead. While he had some growing to do, it was obvious simply by sight that he had trained extensively through his youth. "You are a strong young man, and at the rate that you have grown, you shall be capable of great things quite soon."
"Thank you, sensei," Ryu says politely, his body bowing respectfully to the towering man. Having no memory of when he was taken in by the master, his life has essentially revolved around this dojo, and the surrounding lands. It's no surprise that he'd be remarkable, though, as he had been under Gouken's tutelage since the age of 6 (even if he only started his true training four years later). Despite having been raised by Gouken, the praise is still something he did not quite expect.
With Ryu contemplating his words, Gouken turns toward his other student. He, much like Ryu, had obviously been training for much of his life, his musculature alone identifying him as a martial artist. "And you…you have been remarkable as well. When you first arrived here, you had seemed like your life and your emotion would cloud you to your true potential. However, I can see that your dedication to truly bettering yourself has not been in vain. You have grown as well, and your ability to adapt techniques to your own will is more than I could have expected. You, as well, have excelled."
The ponytailed artist simply bows in silence, finding no words in the face of such praise. "However, as you both realize, you can never truly learn how far you've come until you experience a true fight." Both heads rise up. They've heard such leadups by their teacher before. They know what's coming next. "I have heard news of a martial arts tournament in Osaka in 2 weeks time. I would suggest that you both enter, in order to properly gauge your skills. Is that understood?"
Both his students reply quickly and in unison with a stereo shout of "Hai, sensei!"
Smiling, the mountain of a man raises his hands, willing them both to stand up. "That shall mean, of course, that your training shall need to be increased to ensure that you are prepared." Taking up a bow-legged stance, fists upturned next to his waist, he waits for his students to follow his example, which they do without hesitation. In a strange moment of introspection, Gouken ponders of his brother, wondering if he has decided to do as he has done, teaching what he has learned to others. (Gouki, what path have you taken since we last met?) he thinks, before such thoughts are left for later contemplation. With a "HYAH!", he punches into the air, watching both students copy his movements with perfect timing as their training commences in earnest.
Later that evening…
"Ryu?" Hearing his name called, the brown haired prodigy turns around, having just finished up his meager meal and preparing for some meditation before bedtime.
"Hrm? What is it?"
"Do you truly believe that Gouken-sensei was serious about what he said earlier?"
"Why would he lie to us?" the youth responds, closing his eyes as he settles upon a nearby rock, the ambient sounds of a nearby waterfall hissing through the shaky silence of the night.
"I suppose you're right." Turning around, the ponytailed fighter starts to walk off to his own meditation spot. However, before he can get too far however, he finds that it's his turn to be interrupted.
"What exactly did Master Gouken say that troubled you?" Ryu asks, legs folded, arms resting loosely in his lap.
"…nothing. It's nothing," his fellow student says, his brown ponytail swishing as he shakes his head.
"If you say so, Hibiki-san." Closing his eyes, Gouken's disciple soon empties his mind, focusing his inner being as best he can, leaving Dan Hibiki to his own devices.
(It's been a long time since I first came here…have I really gotten over it?) the Hong Kong-born fighter thinks to himself. It's been 7 years since that fateful day, the day he chose this path. The day that was his father's death as he was brutally beaten in his attempt to claim the title of God of Muay Thai.
That Night...
Dan's sleep was restless as he was assailed by visions. Visions of mimicking his father as he trained in their backyard, visions of his father kneeing an opponent viciously in the gut during yet another of his many matches, and most importantly, the visions of the man who Hibiki knew to be his killer. That gnarled nose, that dead, unfocused eye which prompted his father's fatal beating, and that cold, merciless expression.
However, that was not what disturbed Dan the most. What disturbed him the most was seeing that same face, beating as bloody and twisted as his father's once was. He only got a glimpse of the man who had created such a mess in his dream, and nothing more than a silhouette. However, he didn't need to see much to make out one distinguishing detail from the shadow, enough to make out who it was.
The figure's hair….specifically the ponytail. HIS ponytail. Snapping up from his bedroll with a gasp, he cups his face in his hand, sweat beaded on his forehead. "What's going on…did I…could I really be capable of that?" he asks himself out loud in low tones. Was this just a dream? Was it a premonition? Or was it simply a warning of what he could become?
Author's Notes: That was a fairly short non-prologue chapter, now wasn't it? Anyways, if you haven't noticed, that IS Dan Hibiki, training with Ryu. No, I'm not crazy...just curious about the idea of what might have happened if Dan was never kicked out of Gouken's dojo and remained under his tutelage along with Ryu. As you can see, he's not quite the taunting pink wonder he turned out to be, is he? Just for the record, this is about 7 years after Dan's father was killed in his match with Sagat, and 8 years before the Alpha series gets underway.
Oh, and for those who wonder where the heck Ken is...don't worry. I plan on explaining his current absence next chapter. ;) Other Street Fighter characters will likely appear as well, though just who will make appearances aside from the usual suspects is still up in the air.
Anyways, hopefully I didn't make too many mistakes in this chapter, and god wiling the next chapter will be finished pretty soon. And of course, Reviews, Suggestions, and Criticismare always welcome.
- Kryptik
