"Ms. Kazama…Ms. Kazama…"

Asuka woke up at the sound of her name. She groaned as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. For a moment, she didn't know where she was. Then the memories all came flooding back to her. The wrecked dojo. The trail of blood. Her father's body. The strange man that did this to him. Her sworn enemy. How could she forget what he had done to her and her family, even three months later?

She looked up and saw two nurses in white outfits. They were standing over her with friendly eyes. Asuka gave a faint smile back. Even thought it was a pathetic, fake smile, the nurses accepted it.

"We need to check on your father again. Do you mind?" The nurse motioned toward her father's hospital bed that she was leaning on; she had fallen asleep while watching him in the chair next to the bed. Asuka nodded and sat back in her chair. She looked at her father's face. The bandages covered the bruised and battered face that she saw in the dojo. Bruises shouldn't take three months to heal. There's something wrong she thought. She quickly turned away. She couldn't stand her father looking like this.

Asuka exited her father's room: partly to let the nurses do their job in peace, partly to get a grip on things. It has been approximately three months since the attack, and her father still had not woken up. After the stranger left, Asuka called the paramedics in and rushed to take care of her father while they waited. She didn't understand how he was lucid one moment, then suddenly unconscious the next as the paramedics transported him to the hospital. Asuka always thought that her father was the strongest man in the world. She had seen him in countless fights, all of which he won. He was an expert martial artist, able to defeat many who opposed him. Seeing him in a vulnerable state was just too much to handle…conceding her father's mortality was not an easy thing to do for her. Don't be so hard on yourself, Asuka, conceding a father's mortality is hard for anyone.

She hated the smell of hospitals. She hated all of the white in the hospitals, and how clean they were. She hated all of the nurses on their lunch break who would laugh with each other while gossiping about their mutual friends. She hated the families who got to go home together as one of their own was discharged from the hospital. I hate everything right now…why did this have to happen to us? To him? To me…

A tear rolled down Asuka's cheek; she has cried more the past three months than she ever has in her sixteen years of life. And that includes the time when her mother left her father for another man. She wanted to beat that man's face into a bloody pulp…but not before the man who did this to her father. I can't keep doing this…I can't keep doing this she repeated to herself. I'm only killing myself by thinking about these things.

Asuka looked around the hospital absently, pretending to be interested in the things that she saw: the shiny white tiles on the ground, the off-white wallpaper, the poster on the wall instructing people how to perform the Heimlich maneuver in case anybody had something lodged in their throat. She sighed again, and realized that it was getting late. I have school tomorrow…I guess I should go since I missed Friday. It wasn't that she "missed" Friday, per se, but who wouldn't want to spend the day with their hospitalized father?

Asuka entered her father's room again and told the nurses that she was heading off for the day. They nodded and bid her farewell. Asuka leaned in and gave her father a kiss on the cheek. She walked out and made her way back to the entrance of the hospital.

As she walked outside of the hospital, she shivered from the cold. The sun had almost finished setting, and the street lights began to turn on as she fumbled for her bike lock key in her book bag. She unlocked her bike and started pedaling back to the dojo. Random thoughts entered and exited her mind. She didn't really pay attention to anything…it was as if all reality was slipping away as she rode her bike through the congested streets. It seemed like it was rush hour; all of the commuters were coming back home.

Finally, she reached the dojo and locked her bike outside. She opened the door and cautiously peered in. This had been a habit of hers ever since…that day. In spite of everything, she was quite impressed by the way that she cleaned up the dojo all by herself. With the help of some construction workers to fix the walls. She let out a small, rare chuckle. Nobody would have guessed the amount of damage that intruder did by the look of things. Everything was repaired and it looked as good as new.

After making herself some dinner, she plopped down on her bed and started reading her Calculus book while eating. So the Taylor series representation of this function would be…the limit of the sum of, starting at n and going to infinity, 9 multiplied by the quantity x minus 1 cubed all over 4. She checked her answer in the back of the book. Completely wrong…go figure. She carelessly wrote the correct answer on her homework page and before going to the next problem, she decided to give up entirely. There are more important things in this world than calculus. She tossed the book on the floor and put her dishes in the sink. She then came back to her room and jumped on her bed, exhaling loudly, and tried to go to sleep.

Tomorrow will be better, it has to be said a voice in her head.

Asuka…you've been saying that for the past three months said an opposing voice.

Yeah, well, tomorrow I mean it.

You always say that too!

What…you don't want Dad to get better?

Of course I do…it's just that we can't get our hopes up.

He will get better!

I know that…you know that…I bet even dad knows it…it just might take more time than we anticipated.

Asuka sighed. It just might take more time. She didn't want it to take any more time. She wanted her father back. As she was thinking to herself, anguished tears started streaming down her face.

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"Asuka, I'm worried about you," Misao looked at her with a furrowed brow. Asuka and Misao had been best friends since…forever it seems. They were inseparable since they met each other at age 4.

"I'm fine, really Sao, I am," Asuka replied. She took her eyes off of her lunch to face her friend. Misao's concern for Asuka was definitely reflected in her face, and Asuka quickly looked down at her sandwich.

"You don't look fine…"

"Well, if you don't believe me, I don't know what to tell you" Asuka replied with a hint of anger in her voice.

Misao understood what she was trying to say and stopped her interrogation…for the time being. "So when we visited your father yesterday, he looked better than ever!" she said enthusiastically, in an attempt to lift her friend's spirits.

"Yeah…hey…I'll see you later, O.K.?" Asuka started balling up her lunch and threw it into the nearest trash can. She only listened to Misao half-heartedly. All of her attention was on her father.

"Oh…umm…sure…ok…do you need me to come over tonight? You shouldn't be home alone every night…" Misao asked pathetically as Asuka got up from the table they were sitting.

"Sure, if you want to. I'll be back from the hospital around 6:00" Asuka said off-handedly. It wasn't that Asuka didn't appreciate Misao's attempts to reach out to her; in actuality, Asuka thought that their friendship was strengthening because of this ordeal.

"I'll see you later," said Asuka, as she turned to walk toward the hospital. She waved to Misao, who returned the wave. There was still a twinge of worry in Misao's eyes. Asuka tried her best to alleviate her concern by flashing a smile. It worked; Misao smiled back and turned back to her lunch.

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Back at the hospital, Asuka sat in her familiar chair that was next to her father's bed. Asuka began rocking back and forth, trying to occupy herself. She glanced over at the computer monitor next to the hospital bed. A whole bunch of graphs, numbers, and symbols littered the screen. I wonder what I'll make Dad for dinner when he finally gets out of this hellhole.

"Excuse me, would you happen to be Asuka Kazama?" a strange accented voice asked from the door.

Asuka looked up. A blond man was standing at the entrance. His long hair was slicked back with what must have taken a lot of hair products. He wore a blue long-sleeved shirt tucked over a pair of red jeans. Asuka recognized a coat of arms on the right sleeve of his shirt. He wore some very expensive-looking tennis shoes. Hmm…maybe Dad would like those shoes when he got better… The man had in his right hand a folder and a notepad. Overall, he was very exotic looking. He was obviously not from Japan.

"Umm…what?" Asuka stammered.

"Are you Asuka Kazama?" said the blond stranger. Asuka noticed that he had an accent.

"Yes…why?"

"May I ask you a couple of questions?"

"Depends…about what?"

"About…" his voice trailed off as he looked over to the body of her father in the hospital bed.

"I thought we were done with all of this police paperwork…"

"I'm not with the police…I just need to ask you a couple of things about the things you saw that day."

Asuka began to get defensive. If he's not with the cops, what does he want?

"Umm…I guess…" Choose your words carefully, Asuka.

"May I sit?" asked the stranger.

"Nobody's stopping you…" Wrong choice of words…

The stranger smiled at her sharp tongue as he pulled up a chair and placed it opposite from her.

"Well…first off, my name is Steve Fox. I have…umm...a special interest on the attack of your father. You saw who attacked him, right?"

After a pause, "Yes, I did." Asuka stirred in her seat, remembering the day.

"Would you mind describing him to me?" Steve took out his notebook and a pen, ready to receive whatever Asuka was about to say.

"Well…umm…he wore his long black hair in a braid, that reached past his shoulder. He was Asian, he was kind of tall, probably a little shorter than you."

Steve began to ruffle through the papers in his folder. Wait…he asked me this question, and now he's not even paying attention. Asuka paused, trying to look over at what was in the folder. Steve twirled his finger, signaling her to go on.

"He wore some red, gold, and green pants…oh, and he had an earpiece that talked to him."

Steve stopped looking at the contents of the folder and immediately looked up as Asuka was finishing her sentence. "Did you hear what it said?" he asked incredulously.

"Umm…kind of, I could make out what it said," mumbled Asuka.

"What did it say?" Steve started to stand up, either in excitement or fear, Asuka couldn't tell.

"It said something about leaving the area…" Asuka's memory was hazy. While she had a good eye for her surroundings, her listening skills was something she needed to work on. "Umm…oh, and I think it said something about a sample."

Steve's eyes widended.

"Bring back the sample, or something like that," Asuka finished.

Steve sat back down. All of the excitement (or fear, Asuka still wasn't able to tell) had left his face, leaving a facial expression that Asuka couldn't link to an emotion. He suddenly took a paper from the middle of the folder. "Is this him?" Steve asked. He handed Asuka the paper.

She took it in her hands. On the paper were four pictures. They were of a man from the back, front, and the sides. The first place her eyes went to were his eyes. Those piercing, battle-worn eyes whose intensity was unmatched. In the first photograph, he was giving the camera his signature smirk. The smirk that haunted her dreams for the past three months.

Asuka threw the paper to the ground. "What do you know about him!" she screamed angrily.

"Say no more. My suspicions were correct. Thanks for your time," a calm Steve replied. He picked up the picture that was at his feet and stood up from the chair.

"Wait…who is that bastard!" she yelled. Hospital staff started looking through the large glass window that provided a view into the hallway. "Tell me now!"

Steve closed his eyes and shook his head. "I apologize, but it's classified." He started for the door.

"Wait!" she yelled after him. Steve didn't turn back. He walked down the hallway, with a sixteen year-old school girl matching every one of his steps.

"Do you know who he is? Do you know where he is? Why did he do this to my father?"

Steve coolly ignored her and continued to walk through the hospital. Asuka's agitation with the stranger grew.

"Stop! Stop! I SAID STOP!" Asuka quickly ran past him and gave him one hard kick in the stomach. Truly shocked, Steve doubled over as the wind left him. Asuka spun around and hit his shocked face with the back of her right fist. Steve reeled back and tried to gain his bearings once again. Expecting another blow, he backed away and went into his fighting stance: boxing. Initally, Steve was confused when Asuka didn't rush up and try to attack again, but he noticed what the young girl was doing before it was too late.

Asuka reached for the folder that Steve had dropped when suddenly, a hand grabbed her wrist and ruined her getaway. She turned and looked straight in the face of the blond man named Steve. "Now we won't be having none of that, will we?" he said mockingly. She tried to reach the folder with her other hand, but Steve pulled her a safe distance away from the documents.

"Why won't you help me! What is his name! What do you know!" screamed Asuka through clenched teeth. She started struggling against Steve's grip. He's too strong…

As the Asuka continued to break free from his grip and shouting incoherently, he saw something glisten in the corner of her eye. He automatically loosened his grip as she faced him.

Wiping the tear away, Asuka was about to shout at him once more, but Steve interrupted.

"You've got some spark in you, kid. I like that. And that kick wasn't a kick from some untrained wannabe…I felt form in it." Steve coughed a little.

Heh…he still hasn't fully recovered from it thought Asuka.

"Hmm…you might be useful…if you want to know everything in that folder, come with me." Steve gracefully took the folder from the ground. Without a moment's hesitation, Asuka followed in his footsteps and made a path through the hospital workers who had gone to see the commotion they caused.