Yagami's Little Girl – Interlude: Smoke and Groceries
Written By: RinoaDestiny
King of Fighters, Iori Yagami, and Kyo Kusanagi belong to SNK Playmore
He couldn't get any breaks, could he?
One minute, he was in the convenience store shopping for food and cigarettes with the sun shining outside; the next, all hell broke loose with a sudden downpour of rain. The clerk checked her watch, worriedly looking at the sliding doors and he couldn't help but do the same. Look outside, that is. The street was a sheet of white, people and cars blurred into running colors. Umbrellas opened and there was a crowd moving past the doors, taking shelter under the awning. The doors began to open and close.
Paying for the few things he'd picked up, Iori took the plastic bag offered to him and moved towards the elements. Taking advantage of the incessant open-shut nature of the entrance, he shouldered his way past the crowd and began to stride towards the next place with a canopy. Rain slicked his hair into his eyes. He immediately swept it back so that he could get a good view of the street and the road.
This being Osaka, it was not hard to find shops with awnings to cover him. He was wet – would need a hot shower once he got home – but he'd been through worse before marrying Michiru and having Aoi. His hovel used to be broken down in the dumps and no one would bother him. It didn't bother him living there, either until he somehow developed a relationship with someone besides his bandmates and Kyo (single-minded rivalry, he'd say).
He guessed this was what growing up was about.
Water continued running down his face and the back of his neck; cold streaks puddled in the hollow of his collarbone and soaked into his shirt. The pair of white pants he wore looked gray in the eerie storm-light and weird shadows were cast everywhere. People were disappearing off the street, into homes and stores and before long, he felt he was the only one around.
Maybe he was.
It was also a good time for a nicotine break.
Fishing the pack of cigarettes out of the bag, Iori ripped the top off and tapped one out. Lighting it up, he leaned against the concrete wall besides an empty bank and took his first draw. Smoke curled into his nostrils and prickled the back of his throat. It was pleasant. Savoring the flavor, he exhaled and prepared to draw again.
That was when he saw him.
He couldn't mistake the other man's body language. The exasperation etched in the lines of his spine, arms, and legs as he stomped his way through puddles. Even the slightest turn of his feet or hands gave him away. He'd seen it so many times in the arena that it was second nature for him to notice. What the hell was Kyo Kusanagi doing out in the storm?
For that matter, where was his bike?
Was he running away from responsibilities in his home life again?
As Kyo drew nearer, Iori took another pull of his cigarette, trying to remain nonchalant. Just the sight of the heir apparent made his blood boil. There was a strange unspoken truce between them. The times they'd saved their corner of the world, sealing away Orochi made them partners of a sort – not that either one of them would admit it. Only Chizuru Kagura would call it such; he and Kyo refused to acknowledge it.
To them, it was just a necessity from ancient days.
The sword, the jewel, and the mirror. Offense, pacification, and reflection. The irony of his sacred treasure's ability wasn't lost on him. Maybe it still played that part, somehow.
He just didn't know how it applied to him.
The brunet stalked out of the lashing rain, looking like a soaked mutt and furious. Iori expected him to bristle, shaking water all over and didn't move. Usually, he'd taunt the other man – Kyo looked pissed off enough to fight – but today, he wasn't feeling it. It was rare for Kyo to come across him by chance, so maybe that took the edge off.
It was easier when he was chasing him.
It could have been dim or maybe the Kusanagi heir needed time to adjust to being dry. He counted six beats before the other spoke.
"Yagami? The hell you doing here?"
Took him long enough. The sneer in his voice carried the full weight of their history. The derision was plain but it was hard to take a dripping wet Kyo seriously. "Got here first. You don't like it, leave."
Kyo glared at him.
"Why are you out in the rain?" he asked, curious. "Something happen?"
"Why would you care?" Kyo snapped back.
Iori didn't respond. He simply sucked in some more smoke and waited.
Past the bank, the streets were empty and visibility was nil. The storm continued, thunder rumbling and lightning darting in and out in brilliant flashes. The world lit up in those brief moments – a world of steel wet and mist – and gave him a glimpse of the other fighter's expression. Kyo Kusanagi wasn't only mad, but he wanted out of this situation. Unfortunately, nature decided otherwise unless he wanted a second soaking.
It chafed his rival so.
The brown eyes across from him narrowed. "What are you looking at?"
"You," Iori said, keeping his voice casual. "What got you so pissed?"
"Fuck you care, Yagami?"
"Creative, Kyo. Imaginative. You got anything else I need to hear?"
That led to one of the most startling blue streaks from Kyo's mouth that Iori had ever heard. He was no novice to cursing himself, so it wasn't the torrent of foulness that surprised him. It was more akin to "What set him off?" Most days, Kyo was the laid-back guy. Then again, most days, he was with his friends or his little girlfriend, Yuki, so this side wouldn't come out.
Iori supposed this was as close to seeing the "real" Kyo as it got.
Why him, though?
He had finished half his cigarette, ash falling away as Kyo wound down. His fists were clenched and if looks committed murder, the other man would be behind bars. Iori savored the smoke and lazily let it out.
"Feel better now?"
Kyo roared, driving a fist into the wall right next to his head. The concrete cracked; Iori didn't flinch. "Hey, the wall did nothing to you," he quipped, flicking the cigarette towards the street. It fell short, but landed in a wet patch of walkway. Good enough. "Who's gonna pay for that, huh? Not you – you don't even work."
"Shut up, Yagami."
"What was it? Your old man, your girl, or your bike?"
"Why do you –"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. You're a broken record, Kyo."
"You're one to talk." With Kyo this up close, the redhead could see the mussed hair, the drenched leather jacket – black with gold accents – and the aggravation in his eyes. "You're the one that doesn't shut up about killing me or fighting me or yelling my name."
"You know…all you have to do is make a fire, dry yourself off, and leave. Why are you still here?"
"What?"
"You heard me." Peeling himself off the wall, Iori strode away from Kyo. He could feel the other's puzzled gaze following him. "Set yourself on fire and take a hike. That's what you want to do, right? Why talk to me?"
"I don't want to talk to you, Yagami."
"You are." Iori stepped closer to the edge of the walkway, looking at the bruised clouds and the white torrents of rain. "Something on your mind, Kyo?"
He heard the other scowl. "What are you, a shrink?"
"Haha, very funny." With the weather remaining like this, he guessed it'll be a while before he could head home. He and Kyo were in the same boat, but he wasn't complaining. If he got hungry, he still had his bag of food next to the wall. He hoped Kyo wouldn't step on it by accident or by being a complete oaf. "Where's your bike?"
"Yagami –"
"Serious question, Kyo. Where'd you put it? Or did something happen to it?"
Silence.
"Something happened to it, huh?"
"Fine! Since you're so goddamn interested, she broke down, okay?"
Well, that explained his attitude. Part of it, anyway. "Where's the bike now?"
"That's none of your business."
Iori turned sideways, hands in pockets, to stare at his rival. "Look, Kusanagi," he said, deliberately using the other man's last name. "Either you can play nice or you can stand in the corner and grumble. Which is it going to be?"
"I can't believe I'm being lectured by Iori fucking Yagami."
"Which is it, Kyo?"
Thankfully, after a moment's deliberation – in which he could see the expressions waging war on Kyo's boyish face – his rival seemed to get it. Raging against the ill luck of a broken bike and being caught in a rainstorm was understandable. He'd be put out if his guitar broke right before a performance and doubly so if he and his instrument got wrecked by mischance. What he wouldn't do was throw a hissy fit before the opposing clan's top dog. The only exception to that would be if Kyo was responsible.
Hell, at that point, he'd gut the man himself.
"When's this storm gonna end?"
This was better. Kyo was complaining – still irritating – but Iori didn't feel like he was babysitting a brat anymore. "Don't know. Could be one of the big ones."
"No shit."
"So it's just the bike, eh? That's got you all worked up?"
"Talking more than usual, Yagami. You bored?"
"Your friends see you like this?"
A few raindrops hit his face, sliding off his cheekbone; Iori ignored them, keeping his eyes on Kyo. The brunet had slumped against the wall, on the verge of sliding down. "What month is it, Yagami?"
"The hell that got to do with –"
"Just answer the question."
"June. So?"
"What happened after we first sealed off Orochi?"
First sealing of Orochi was in 1997. After…oh. "NESTS. That was back in 1999, Kyo."
"No shit. You think that makes a difference to me?"
Ah, so this was the real crux of the matter. "Still pissed about that, huh?"
"Everyone thinks you can just move on after that. No worries. That I'm just fine," Kyo snarled the last few words, belying their well-intended meaning. "So I need to go around acting like I'm okay. Like I didn't see several hundred clones with my face or disappear for a year being the lab rat."
"What about your old man –"
"He doesn't understand," Kyo spat, face snapping up to meet Iori's gaze. "He thinks I'm still his golden boy. Still the child he can tease and scold and pat on the head."
"Even after…" Of all things, Iori'd thought Saisyu Kusanagi would get it.
"Yeah, he doesn't remember 1995. That's what I tell myself."
Indeed. "Rugal did a number on him."
"And I had to fight him, dammit!" Even from where he stood, Iori could see Kyo's fists shaking. "Try forgetting that! But of course he doesn't remember, because why would he? It'll hurt our reputation. Of course he'd conveniently forget."
"He wants you to do the same."
"Like hell I can!"
Kyo Kusanagi rarely raised his voice like that. Battle cries during the tournament didn't count, so Iori knew he'd just seen a genuine display of traumatic rage. He mentally counted the years since 1999 and shook his head, hair falling into his eye. How had he missed it? He was only Kyo's most obsessive stalker, minus the pretty boy's fangirls and that Yabuki kid.
The other did know how to act.
After that outburst, Kyo slid down against the wall, head bowed and withdrawn. Sensing the other man's mood, Iori remained where he was. One false move and he'd be eating fire for dinner. No, he didn't want to push Kyo into a fight right now. What just passed was too real, and while he was an asshole, he knew where to draw the line with his rival.
He'd just pushed because he was curious.
Now knowing what he did, he couldn't throw it into the other's face.
Several stretches of uneasy silence passed between them. Sporadic flashes of lightning illuminated the thick overhang of clouds. Rain continued pouring down, yet seemed lighter. Maybe he'd take advantage of a lull in between and take his chances. He didn't want to leave Aoi by herself for too long. What'd been a short trip outside for food had turned into a stymied way back and also a weird psychiatric session with Kyo Kusanagi, of all people.
Today was an odd day.
His throat itched. "Hey. Mind passing me a cigarette? They're in the bag."
"Huh?" That was enough to awaken Kyo back to himself. Iori could see the gears turning in Kyo's head as though he'd asked him for something outlandish.
"Cigarettes. Bag. Now."
It took about three seconds for Kyo to even see the bag and another five to fumble the cigarette out and toss it to him. Precious time wasted. He couldn't get the cigarette to light up fast enough and suck down enough smoke to make him a chimney. Exhaling, he watched as the heavy wisps dissipated. The storm was clearing bit by bit.
"So you had an argument with the old man or what?"
"I was getting too twitchy for him. He called me out on it. I told him and we began to shout at each other. The rest you know."
"You got on your bike to clear your head."
"And the rain decided to shit on me, yeah."
"Daimon and Nikaido know?"
"You kidding me?" The other man stared at him, dumbfounded. "Why would I do that?"
"So besides old man Saisyu, the only other person who knows –"
"I know. Funny, right? You take me seriously, too. Are you sure we sealed Orochi or is this some sort of fucked up dream?"
"This rain is real. I'm smoking and that's real. You definitely are real and I ain't pinching myself awake. Unless you want me to try killing you – blood doesn't feel wet in dreams."
"No thanks."
Iori stretched out a hand to the elements, testing the rainfall. Smaller drops impacted his skin. It was winding down and about time, too. Good. "Unless you have other business to spill, I'm leaving."
"It's done?"
"It's manageable." Walking back to pick up his bag of food – a few meat croquettes, some sandwiches, and a can of ramune soda – he glanced down at Kyo, who looked saner and less mopey. "Take a bus. Or the subway. You look like shit."
"Thanks for telling me the obvious."
Iori snorted. "You really are a jerk, you know?"
"Big words coming from you."
"It doesn't end like this, Kyo."
"Oh, I know." The other fighter waved lazily, blowing him off. "You'll be screaming for my blood in two days. This is just Yagami being weird."
That made Iori laugh. He had to stifle it before he went too off the rails, though – the laugh seemed to take a life of its own. "Damn. Kusanagi telling a joke."
"Yagami being a shrink. Who's the joke here?"
"You didn't leave."
"I didn't ask."
Well. "Go home, Kyo. Sure your old man's freaking out. Let him know you're safe."
"Yeah, yeah."
He didn't see Kyo Kusanagi again until a couple weeks later. The pedestrian crosswalk was packed and Iori had no difficulty shouldering his way through as per his usual stride. As he advanced towards the sidewalk, a motorcycle zipped by the adjacent street, stylishly skidding to a halt before the red light. He never mistook the man and he didn't now. Seemed like Kyo found a decent mechanic after all – two weeks was fast work for whatever problems his bike had.
He looked again. Kyo wasn't the only rider.
Yuki clung to her boyfriend's waist, both arms wrapped around him for dear life. While Kyo never graduated high school, she had, finished college and was now a working professional. The purse and pencil skirt and the time – was it lunch hour for her? – gave it all away. Iori was good at picking up subtleties – it was what kept him alive for so long. Part of it also stemmed from childhood, where reading the hints about his father's temperament prevented him from suffering worse.
He had a feeling Yuki didn't know about Kyo's issues, either.
Since his rival was uncomfortable with even letting his closest friends and teammates know, he definitely wouldn't burden his girlfriend with it. No wonder the man blew a fuse.
That was bound to be a rocky relationship if it got more serious.
Not that Iori cared. It wasn't his problem.
The lights changed. The bike darted down the street. The crowd moved past him.
Iori pondered for a minute, rolled his shoulders back, and continued heading on his way.
What Kyo told him was held in confidence between fighters. Other than that, he had his life to live and so did the Kusanagi heir. When their paths crossed again, their histories would write new chapters. He wasn't going to rush it.
For him, it was living page by page, day by day.
Doing more was asking for trouble.
Notes: I have a particular head-canon of mine in which Kyo never truly recovered from his NESTS ordeal after the climatic end of 1997 up the aftermath of the entire NESTS arc. While the games after – including KoF XIII and KoF XIV – make it look like Kyo's moving on just fine, I tend to like to think about how it would have worked out realistically. Perhaps he's good at masking his deeper emotions to those closest to him. Iori would be the exception, since he's essentially his enemy, so Kyo doesn't mind being an abusive little shit to him. I'm tackled this concept in another fanfic of mine in 2011 – this is a more fleshed out take on it.
Keeping track of the recent KoF developments in the gaming scene and also the storyline, but not sure if I want to bring any of it in for now. If I do, it'll have to segue into the timeline I have set up for this fanfic. That being said, cool to see Iori taking lead role in his ending with sealing Orochi. He's growing up a bit, I think.