Past the docks mountains awaited. The island beyond the major city called out from beneath the colorful sky as day gave way to night. The mountains appeared like silhouettes and shadows as Liu Kang watched the revolution along his slow trek from the fish market.
At the docks, bright blue and red boats had been tied and fisherman scattered like he from the ocean. The storm began to give way, but just as the thunder and lightning rolled slowly past Hong Kong, a dense fog lifted into the air from the rain that had covered the land and settled into dark black clouds. It was a sight he had never seen before in the few years he had lived here.
Tonight, his lessons had been cancelled. Too few students able to make the trek, so he would make his own to the local bar.
There was no shorting of stops he could make. The concrete jungle of Hong Kong had small glass shops that looked like shipping containers turned into stores, bars, restaurants. This all between high rises and concrete.
He stopped at one with stools that seemed to jut out onto the sidewalk and small dim lights that travelled slightly inward to make way for a short elder man and tall younger one, which Liu Kang presumed was his son, tend to three other guests. The elder man was bald, eyes hidden behind the wrinkles of his age and his voice still loud as he would engage the son, then the guests, then return to the back.
Liu Kang took a seat at the far right, three empty chairs to his left before the next customer leaned on the counter with two drinks already finished for him to stare blankly into.
"Wǒ néng gěi nǐ shénme?" The son turned toward him as he smoothly slid the empty glasses toward his end of the counter and into a sink to be cleaned as he took Liu's order.
"English?" Liu watched the son nod and then look up in thought.
"What can I give you?" He returned, in English.
He nudged his fingers toward the other guest's drink and suggested that.
He watched the young man work. His mind began to wonder as he did, with no intention to focus on anything in the real world. As the glass came to him, he took it and set it back down empty before he could even realize he had.
This wasn't routine for him. He thought about the man in the conical hat, the elderly man that always sat at the docks to talk old fish tales. All of this was daily, the mundane workload, the stories, the rain and the commute. However, it was this new robed figure that had jutted himself into Liu's life that had begun to stir up thoughts of the past, and the pitiful present.
He'd rather not.
Two more drinks would help.
Night engulfed Hong Kong. A beautiful sight to look up at, should the sky not be covered by the thick blanket of black clouds. He thought even the stars themselves hid from these clouds. The commute back home was longer, harder to make without the night lights he used to guide his steps, but the dull city lamps helped as best they could.
Inebriated, he had a longer, and harder time home. Three blocks away, two high rises, and several mindless, homologous apartment stacks and he'd be home.
He could see the bleak window as he stared up along the dull grey stacks that was his apartment. It was hard to spot, but he would count the windows on each floor like a ladder to his own. Several other tenants gathered to slip back slowly into the hive as he had, all but one.
He entered the building, the cage with the mail rusted and bent inward, barely able to be opened. He figured it would be best if morning Liu got the mail on his way to work. His right shoulder pressed against another individual and the person helped steady him. The staircase was great and steep, but the elevator would break down at least three times a day.
"Liu Kang?" A voice almost familiar warmed his ear as he leaned up to look at the person he leaned against.
He looked hard at the face, same eye level as him. He almost looked similar to Liu, if it weren't for a lack of hair and the robes of the Shaolin adorned on his body opposed to Liu's black shirt and blue jeans.
The monk slowly guided Liu Kang up the long stair case toward his high apartment over the dull grey city. Once his floor was reached, Liu was ready to collapse. Without the monk, he would have, so he reached for the walls instead and guided himself along.
"I'm good."
"Are you?" The monk asked, Liu noticed the near bare feet, the pristine look and then turned around toward the dust and decay of the hallway with its graffiti, stains, and dirt.
"I'm here." Liu found his door and struggled to open it. The monk followed him at the threshold.
"I know, for too long, Liu Kang."
He gazed back, eyes tight and mind focused as best it could. Those eyes stared back at him with concern, and he felt a little condescending glare as well, much like his old friend in the White Lotus would have given him.
"Kung Lao?" Liu rolled is eyes and went to shut the door on him.
"I'm not leaving without you this time." Kung Lao pressed his foot against the door.
Liu sank, his shoulders sunken against the wall and he threw an arm out to welcome his old friend in. If only to grant him a moment to let him speak before the door could be shut on him again. Hopefully.
"I told you last time, Kung Lao, I don't want to return."
"Yes," Kung Lao scanned the small apartment. The stacks closed in the view from the window and the air was thick around them. "You've escaped your family for the cage of society."
"You always listened to them, you don't understand." He pushed out, several slurred words tied the sentence together like a wet rope.
"I understand." Kung Lao nodded and locked back, he stood at the window as Liu stood, slouched by the door. He smiled, thin, and pathetic, but genuine enough from him. "You wanted something more in life. Something more than what you had."
"Now look!" Liu threw his arms out at the pitiful waste of his life. "See what I have? What do you have?"
"Passion." Kung Lao almost looked down him, and Liu could see the eyes of his father bore down into him. "Other than that? Nothing more than you."
"Fuck you, I have passions."
"I'm sure you did," he added, "but you've lost them in this prison you've put yourself in."
"I make a living! I work and teach and–"
"And forget who you are." Kung Lao took a step forward, "forget what Raiden told you."
"There's no such thing as a Thunder God. That was just some old man in the academy they told us was Raiden to make us listen, behave. Be slaves to the White Lotus."
"He said you were important, that you were needed." Kung Lao shook his head, the sight before him was almost unbelievable. "I don't see it. You're just some random guy on the street, being suffocated by your own life."
"Fuck off." Liu held the door open for him. Kung Lao could see the false welcome had quickly worn out.
"Raiden wanted me to talk to you, try to convince you to fight in the tournament. He'll be disappointed."
Liu watched the orange hues of fabric waft past him, vibrant against the dull ache of his apartment wall.
He stopped Kung Lao with a question, one he didn't want to ask, but didn't want to let his counterpart leave with the final word.
"That old man's here? In the city?"
"You've already seen him." Kung Lao turned with a smile, disappointed, saddened, and broken. "You were the chosen one. Unfortunate. I would have chosen someone else."
The door slammed behind Kung Lao and Liu let his body sink to the floor.
As day splintered through the dust of the window and cracked over Liu's eyes, he held a hand out before himself, still at the door after he had passed out. It was too early for work, but he was quick to gather clothes and rush out of the apartment.
He pierced the alleys and blocks toward the fish market and scrutinized each body he saw. He looked for the man in the conical hat, but after minutes of focused scrutiny and a hard trek up and down the docks, he could not find him.
"If you really are the Thunder God, you will come to me!" He nearly screamed.
At his work, tired and exhausted before he could even clock in, he had gave the docks one last look before he turned away and into the market.
Past the squid, the tuna, shark, octopus, shellfish and spices, he turned toward an employee only door, a small hall that had the boss's office and a bathroom, he struck the door, ready to start a hard day.
A shape caught his eye. White and grey, old and tattered, the robed figure perused the fish down the end of the market with another person at his side, female in white tank and jean shorts. It struck him odd, but he thought if he should go, or clock in.
The man stopped, and the hat turned up to let Liu see the man's face, albeit from a distance.
"Who are you?" He called out to the older man.
"You're not ready yet." A voice caught Liu Kang from behind. The man stood between him and the door. "Not until you can ask yourself the same question, and know the answer."
The face stared back at him, disappointed, but those white eyes had a gleam of energy to them, like streaks of lightning that stretched across them.
"You're him?" Liu reached for answers, but the man only stared for a long pause until the woman joined them.
"Sonya Blade. Combatant in the Tournament." Raiden nodded to her, introduced her. "This is Liu Kang. Fish monger."
"No." Liu didn't like that. His eyes tightened, his lips screwed, he didn't like that at all. He couldn't answer the man, couldn't object, but he turned toward the woman, blonde, a cold face that stared at him and expected answers just as he did.
"Then who are you?" Raiden's eyes sparked, a curve turned that disappointed stretch of lips into an amused grin.