Chapter Twelve: Trick Flower
Xiaoyu's remaining time in the hospital passed quickly, much too quickly for her liking. Though her ribs still ached, her participation in the tournament required a hasty recovery from her injury, or at the least the appearance of one. The Mishima Corporation wasn't foolish; having suddenly been transformed into one of their top attractions, Xiaoyu was showered with more professional care and attention than she had ever received before. It didn't ease the sting, both literally and figuratively, as she was hustled out of the hospital and back to the Corporation Headquarters to prepare for her next match, aided only by the tight bandages around her side and a bottle of aspirin in her hand.
Her increasingly dark mood was briefly suspended after she placed a phone call to her mother in China. Xiaoyu was struck with a tiny bit of guilt at the reprimands her harried mother gave her for not calling home often enough; finding out that Jinrei had, however, only left the country for some sort of extended vacation rather than meet a horrible death at the hands of an angry renegade Shaolin monk did fill her with a huge sense of relief. Her cheerful mood was short lived, though, ruined all too soon by a knock on her bedroom door. The knock was followed by the delivery of a large, mysterious brown box, identified only by the short message hastily scrawled across its top. "Wear this" it read.
"Oh my God," muttered Xiaoyu as she regarded the contents of the package with faint horror. The TV next to her bed flickered slightly, displaying the Tournament match listing once more, reminding her that her next battle would be coming up all too soon. "I'm going to kill him," she swore as she struggled to pull the costume out of the box.
- x – x – x -
The dark, sleek limo pulled up to the curb and as it stopped, a heavily booted foot kicked open the back door. After a few moments, Xiaoyu managed to struggle out of the car, pausing long enough to give the driver a deadly glare. "Don't say a word!" she growled as the man struggled to keep his face placid. Turning around, she looked over the beautiful recessed English-style garden, surrounded by high stone walls. Flies buzzed lazily around the sweet, blooming flowers and she even thought she heard the low rumbling of a toad. It was romantic; it was extravagant; there were cameras mounted openly at almost every point around the high stone walls. It was a nightmare for Xiaoyu.
"I'm really going to kill him," she muttered under her breath, steeling herself and waddling forward. The match was most certainly going to be televised widely; Xiaoyu had seen enough tournament snippets and advertisements to know that she was the major attraction of this fight in more than one way. Even if the battle itself was not nearly as spectacular as the one she had fought with Feng Wei, the costume Hwoarang had chosen for her would ensure national attention. Her only comfort was that her opponent might die of laughter before she actually had to fight him. Wiping some sweat from her forehead, she scanned the area once more and sighed as she saw her challenger, who still had his back turned. "Hey!" she called out, lifting an arm and waving cautiously. "Over here!"
The man turned around and did a double take. "You ain't 'ere for the match, are you luv?" he managed to choke out.
Xiaoyu felt her face flush from more than just the heat of her outfit and pulled at the fur collar uncomfortably. "Well, umm… yeah," she mumbled.
"You're pullin' me leg!" he said, looking at her with an air of disbelief.
Xiaoyu dropped her head, hunching forward. Long plastic beads slapped against her face as she gave the tall blonde a clumsy bow. "Ling Xiaoyu, reporting for the fight," she said miserably.
"Steve Fox's the name, boxin's me game." He gave her another curious glance. "You're really 'ere to duke it out? You look right silly," he said, his mouth quirking up into a grin.
"I know," she said after taking a moment to decipher the British man's thick accent. "Let's just get this fight over with, okay?" As she spoke, static crackled over the courtyard from one of the mounted speakers. Not only was the voice of the announcer louder than usual on this day, it was much showier, and clearly coloured with poorly hidden amusement.
"Preeeee-senting battle eighteen of the Fifth King of the Iron Fist Tournament!" yelled the voice tackily. "Our challenger today is the World Boxing Champion, the Fists from the Mists, the UK Stingray, Steeeeeeeeve Fox!"
Almost reflexively, Steve turned around and raised his gloved fists, bouncing slightly as he waved at the non-existent audience.
"There's no one here!" Xiaoyu said, trying to plant her mittens on her wide hips and failing. "Who are you waving at?"
"Cameras, luv," Steve said, the broad smile never leaving his face. "If you're going to show in a get-up like that, a lil' bit o' struttin's in order, init?"
Xiaoyu looked down at herself and groaned. "I don't think I have to strut," she mumbled. If revenge was what he wanted, Hwoarang had certainly chosen well; she was dressed in an outfit that made her look three times her size – width-wise. It would have pleased Panda to no extent, no doubt; her "costume" was actually more of a full-sized bear-shaped body suit. The fake polyester fur had been dyed in a mock camouflage pattern of hot pink, yellow, grey and cream; the fluffy yellow ball passing for a tail on its massive backside made it stand out even more. Completing the look were a pair of hot-pink booties and mittens, and two strings of loud plastic beads jangling down each side of her head. Unfortunately for Xiaoyu, Hwoarang was also not entirely stupid, having opted to avoid attendance at her match, thereby preventing his immediate death. Temporarily, she reminded herself, her cheeks burning with humiliation.
"And back again, our returning champion, the Jade Maid, the Flower Power, the… ahh... Bear Flair, Liiiiiiiing Xiaoyu!"
The cameras whirred and clicked, focusing on Xiaoyu, who growled and pointed her middle finger at the speaker. At least, she tried to. The mittens provided excellent censorship for her rude gestures.
"Lovely," Steve smirked, approaching the center of the garden and hopping a few times in preparation for the match.
"Fighters, take your position!"
Groaning, Xiaoyu moved towards Steve and tried to sink into her battle crouch. The large panda suit, however, was bottom-heavy, something which she hadn't accounted for. Panicking, she wind-milled her arms wildly, unable to check her downward motion. A little scream escaped her lips and Xiaoyu toppled over ungracefully, landing on her butt and rolling backwards. She came to a stop on her back, her arms spread-eagled over a flowerbed and her feet in the air.
"Blimey! I think you killed the frog!" Steve exclaimed.
"Fight!" boomed the speakers, and the bell rung.
"Wait! I'm not ready yet!" Xiaoyu screamed, trying to roll to her feet.
"Sorry luv," Steve said apologetically, and dove towards her.
Xiaoyu imagined his gloved fist to be a huge red arrow flying towards her and the panda suit as the large target, complete with fluffy yellow bull's eye. She flapped her arms and legs desperately, trying to gain enough momentum to roll out of reach of the punch. It didn't work, and Steve's fist landed solidly against one of her legs. "Aaah!" she cried out reflexively, shutting her eyes and waiting for the pain to register.
Whack. Whack. Whack-THWACK-whack. "Shine a light," she heard Steve mutter as a dull thumping sensation tickled her legs. Cautiously, she opened an eye to see Steve punching at the bottom of her costume ineffectually. The furry suit was simply so well padded that despite his most valiant attempts, the boxer's fists were failing to cause any serious damage. "Doesn't this count as cheating?" he complained after a few moments, stopping his assault and leaning over to catch his breath.
Xiaoyu didn't bother to answer, instead flinging her arms back and with a Herculean effort, springing forward, booties first. The pain in her side from the sudden motion was unbelievable, but the unexpected lunge did catch Steve off guard, and her feet struck him directly across the chest.
"Shite!" Steve yelled as he toppled over. Unfortunately, Xiaoyu once again misjudged her fully suited weight. Her scream joined his as she landed on him and pitched face forward into a large clump of flowers. There were a few moments of silence, and then a muffled groan. "Met moff muh me."
Xiaoyu winced and sat up. Looking down, she saw Steve's red-tinted face trapped between both of her large, furry knees. He tried to speak again, but the British man's accent was muffled beyond all comprehension underneath a thick blanket of fake panda fur. Xiaoyu stared at him blankly for a moment, then reacted on instinct. "PERVERT!" she screamed, trying to push herself away.
"Mo're meh mun moo manded mon me!" he bellowed, heaving upwards with his powerful shoulders in an attempt to dislodge Xiaoyu. Unfortunately, their combined efforts were not very well coordinated, and she only made it up halfway before losing her balance again and landing heavily on her backside. This elicited another grunt of pain from the boxer, and cautiously, she looked down. Between her booted feet she could see a few wisps of mangled blonde hair.
"Umm… sorry?" she laughed nervously. Then a thoughtful look crossed her face. Lifting her foot, she let it drop onto Steve's forehead.
"MOOOOW!" he yelled, tossing his head to the side and spitting out a mouthful of fur.
Smiling, she did it again, this time with both feet. The yell turned into a groan of pain, and Xiaoyu giggled. "Hey, maybe this isn't so bad after all!" she cheered. Noticing a few gentle taps on her back, she craned her neck around and glanced over her shoulder. Steve's knees were flailing behind her, ineffectually trying to kick her off. It was clear to see, however, that he didn't have nearly enough flexibility to perform any sort of spectacular kick that would have been required to dislodge her massive, furry body. She began to sway her feet lazily, tapping Steve's forehead rhythmically with the heels of her booties. "I think I won!" she called out loudly as she swung her boots up and down. "What do you think?" she said, lifting a leg and peering down at the blonde's flushed, annoyed face.
"This must be the worst bloody match of my career," Steve managed to growl before Xiaoyu silenced him with another foot. She smiled as the bell rang and clumsily rolled off of the hapless boxer.
"Ling Xiaoyu wins!" blared the speakers. "Fighters, get ready for the next battle," said the announcer with a decided note of irritation.
Steve stood up, brushing some stray fur off of his body and gave Xiaoyu a wry smile. "I might 'ave lost, but least it sounds like we managed to piss 'em off." He sounded unusually pleased with himself.
Struggling to her feet, Xiaoyu shrugged her slightly battered suit back into place and regarded her opponent curiously. "You sound like you don't care about losing too much," she said cautiously.
"Who said I'm going to lose?" Steve said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "'Ave to apologize, luv, I don't normally 'it girls in the face," he added as the bell rang.
"Eep!" Xiaoyu squeaked as he took a high swing at her head, falling into her phoenix crouch to duck the punch. She looked up to see another gloved fist hurtling at her head from above and quickly scooted backwards. "This suit is really slowing me down," she cursed as Steve beat his hands together and jumped back, fixing her with a calculating stare.
"Problems with the tail?" he laughed, then charged her with a wild grin.
"It's not slowing me down that much!" Xiaoyu said with a smile of her own. She was enjoying herself despite the panda suit and her aching ribs. It was easy to see that Steve meant business, but he fought with a vibrant energy that sparked a similar response in herself. It was true that Jinrei had pushed Xiaoyu into fighting, rigorous lesson after lesson, usually to her dismay and loud protests. But like anyone crazy or skilled enough to make it into the Tournaments, there was a small part of her that lived for the fight. The excitement, the adrenaline high, the risks taken; they combined to fill her with a sense of purpose and delight, even if only temporary. And she was sure the British boxer wasn't out for a kill; she could tell he also understood the wild joy of fighting.
Grunting with the effort, Xiaoyu twisted forward, launching herself into the air sideways. Stretching her arms and legs out, she spun through the air like a pinwheel and hoped to catch Steve off guard with the unusually acrobatic manoeuvre. This time she was mostly prepared for the shifting of her excess costume weight, using it to add force to her attack as she whirled through the air spread-eagled.
"'oly mother of –" Steve's colourful curse was cut off by a booted foot to the face. Xiaoyu touched the ground briefly and continued the kick, swinging her arms around to give her enough momentum for a second swipe with her right leg. Though she had managed to clip the boxer soundly across the face the first time, he weaved backwards during her second attack and she only grazed his cheek. As she completed her kick, Xiaoyu gasped and skipped forward unexpectedly, still not completely balanced in the huge suit. It brought her in close to Steve, who reversed his dodge with a smile and drove his fist into her side.
"OWWW!" Xiaoyu yelled as she doubled over and hit the floor. The impact was just as buffered as any of his other attempted blows; it still, however, brushed against her tender ribs. She already knew without looking up that the boxer would try to plant a hit directly on the back of her head while she was down, possibly knocking her out and ending the match quickly. Rather than trying to dodge, she closed her eyes and reached up blindly over her head. Sure enough, her hands came into contact with his descending glove and she grabbed on tightly, twisting his arm with as much strength as she could muster. Steve was still much stronger than her, and she only managed to divert the blow to her shoulder, but it was enough to keep her conscious, and definitely enough time for her to execute her next attack. With a battle cry, she sprung upwards as forcefully as she could. The gamble worked, and Steve let out a yell as she knocked him off balance and flipped him over her back, using the force of his own missed swing to toss him to the floor.
"Bollocks!" Steve roared as he began to struggle off the floor, fire flashing in his eyes.
"Hey! I didn't say you could get up yet!" Xiaoyu yelled as he rose, clinging onto his arm tightly and attempting to pull him downwards.
"It won't work, luv, you 'ave the strength of a pea," Steve said as he hopped to his feet, hefting Xiaoyu up with him.
"Actually, I think it worked pretty well!" Xiaoyu answered, smiling brightly as she stopped struggling and gave Steve's arm a solid tug. As the sudden move jerked his upper body downwards, she leapt over his head. Clutching the boxer's arm tightly all the while, she planted her free hand on his opposite shoulder and cartwheeled over his head.
"Bloody hell!" the boxer yelled as she shifted her grip in mid-air with lightning speed to secure a hold around his neck and landed on his other side. The unfortunate consequence being, of course, that her momentum launched him into the air, carrying him into a wild cartwheel that mirrored her own. He crashed in to the ground, rolling several feet away from her, then pushed himself up with a curse.
"Incoming!" Xiaoyu yelled.
Steve looked up in time to see a large blur of peach, grey and pink rush towards him. "Definitely the worst match of my car—" he muttered before he was cut off by a flash of pink. Xiaoyu ended her charge by diving to the ground and kicking her legs out in a quick split, sending Steve flying into the sculpture recessed into the stone wall behind him. She jumped to her feet and cheered, holding her hand out in a mostly unrecognizable victory sign as the second bell rung.
"Unbelievable! Ling Xiaoyu Wins!" cried the announcer.
"Unbelievable?" Xiaoyu repeated incredulously, whirling around to look at a speaker with fury. Then she planted her hands on her hips and stuck out her tongue. "Believe it! Even in a panda suit, you can't stop Ling Xiaoyu!" Her eyes widened and she waved at the speaker frantically. "Oh, and I dedicate this fight to Panda! Now I know how hard it was for you to stick up for me all this time, thanks so much! I miss you a lot! And to Miharu, I'm sorry we had that fight! Oh yeah, and to my grandpa Jinrei, why the heck didn't you call me and tell me you were going on vacation! And one last thing, --"
There was the loud whine of a microphone being shut off, and Xiaoyu was left standing with her arm raised, sputtering.
"They cut me off!" she said, stomping her foot. "I don't believe it, I'm finally on TV and I still don't get my fifteen minutes of fame!" she yelled.
"Oh, believe it, luv" groaned Steve as he extracted himself from the reclining statue, brushing a few flowers out of his unruly hair. "They only want to see you fight, not talk." He gave her a wry grin as he approached. "Less chance for you to say something stupid, see. Don't take it personal."
"You're not mad at me for beating you?" Xiaoyu asked timidly.
"Well, I am right pissed at meself for being taken by someone wearing the likes o' that," he said, looking Xiaoyu over. "Not every day that you get a look at an airborne tie-dyed panda, either," he mused. "Lei better 'ave taped this one, that's for sure."
Xiaoyu giggled and bowed slightly. "Well, thanks for a nice match, I had fun!" she said and began to waddle towards the garden archway, holding her side.
"Wait a minute, there, luv," Steve called out. Xiaoyu turned around and raised an eyebrow, then frowned. The good-humoured look had dropped off of his face, and his blue eyes glittered coolly as he stared Xiaoyu down. "I think you might want to have a bit o' a drink with me right now. It's only polite." The way he said it sounded more like a threat than an invitation.
"Umm, I don't drink, sorry," she said cautiously and began to waddle more quickly towards the exit.
"Oh, I'd wager you'll want to share a nip o' something with me," he said, pulling up alongside her and easily matching her slow pace.
"And why's that?" Xiaoyu said grimly, avoiding his gaze.
"Because you just cut me out of something I need," he answered levelly.
Xiaoyu huffed. "That's your problem," she answered, making her way towards the parked limousine. She sighed with relief as they arrived at the car and reached for the door handle.
Steve smiled and leaned forward, blocking Xiaoyu's access to the door of the car. "Oh, not really, luv," he answered. "Leastwise, not if you'd like to keep your pretty little Indian friend out of trouble," he added.
Xiaoyu stopped and stared at the blonde with wide eyes. "What?" she asked guardedly.
"Yes, that friend of yours. Julia, wasn't she? Beautiful name," he said with a half-smile. "Beautiful girl. It'd be a real shame if something 'appened to 'er, now wouldn't it."
"If you're trying to threaten me, it's not going to work," Xiaoyu hissed, her temper rising. "For one, Julia can take care of herself. For two, she's not even in the tournament anymore. So just get lost, creep." She shoved Steve's arm out of the way and began to open the door.
"Oh, I'm not the one making the threat," he said, slamming his hand against the car window and shutting the door forcefully. "I 'appen to know who your friend works for. I know what she wants. And I know 'ow she tried to get it a few days ago." He narrowed his eyes and glared at Xiaoyu. "Interesting, what a little bit o' information can get you these days."
Xiaoyu had stopped cold. He knows about Julia's break-in. Her Native American friend might not be participating in the Tournament, but as long as she remained in Tokyo, she was still in danger. Even if Julia returned to the United States, though, the Mishima Corporation's tendrils were widespread and deadly; there was no guarantee she would be safe. Not to mention the consequences Xiaoyu herself would face if Kazuya discovered she had aided one of his rivals. No choice then, she thought with a mild note of panic. "What is it you want?" she asked him quietly, her voice trembling with anger.
"I want in." Steve leaned in closer, his glacier-like eyes boring holes into Xiaoyu's head. "I need inside information from the Mishima Corporation. I was 'oping to get it from the top, but you just cut off me route," he said, gesturing irately at the garden. "You tell Chang to meet me at the Toriteru Restaurant at Shinagawa Station, tomorrow, three o'clock sharp."
"Is that it?" Xiaoyu growled.
"Course not, luv!" Steve said, smiling slightly and freeing her access to the car. "This is just the beginning of a beautiful relationship." He held the door open for her with a smirk. "Glad to see we could come to an understanding. You sure about that drink?"
"Positive," Xiaoyu answered, giving Steve one last angry glare and climbing into the car. The door slammed behind her and she sunk into her seat with a sullen sigh. "Let's get out of here," she moaned to the driver, feeling a little bit of unfounded relief as the car pulled away from her newest problem. She dropped her head back against the cushions and stared at the lush interior of the car blankly. "I think I liked these Tournaments better when I was eliminated early on," she mumbled to herself, closing her eyes and trying to quell the headache that was blossoming behind them.
AN: Thanks to a couple of reviewers for pointing out a small plot hole in the last chapter. I completely forgot about poor Wang! Well.. umm, perhaps we can chalk it up to Xiaoyu being forgetful and impetuous? - sweatdrop - I was planning on giving Steve a bigger role in this story at first, but I think now that it would branch into a tangent too far from Xiaoyu's own to be relevant or interesting. If I can get myself to swallow more pseudo-British dialogue, he might show up in an independent fiction after this one is complete. Incidentally, writing "Mockney" English is really, really friggin' hard. Thanks a lot for giving Steve a difficult accent, Namco. - growls - Everyone else, thanks for leaving reviews, you know you all rock.