Twelve White Butterflies
Yugao
Author's Note: Thank you to all of my sweet and not-so-sweet readers and/or reviewers! Here is the fifth story, Fight or Flight.
Disclaimer: I don't own Tekken, and unless I become a multi-billionaire I never will.
"I made my choice – I left. Now I wonder if it was the right one."
Five… Fight or Flight
How long can I keep running?
How long can I keep hiding?
It's not like what I run from is an enemy I can do battle with, and eventually knock out. This kind of opponent cannot be touched by punches and kicks.
The alley that night was dark. I had just come from the Iron Fist match that officially booted me out of the tournament, against Jin Kazama himself. My muscles were numb, and I couldn't even feel my legs. I wanted nothing more than to hurry back to my hotel room and collapse in bed, but I was too tired to even quicken my pace.
The only source of light was the row of flickering lamps on the street, and even they did not shed light on the five masked men who sneaked up behind me.
The first grabbed me by the waist, while another pointed a gun to my head. The other three looked around, as if to make sure no one was going to come by and give me a miraculous rescue.
Fat chance, anyway. There weren't any buildings close by, except some ramshackle houses ready for demolition.
"Give us all your money, lady!" the first screamed.
"Give us your money or we'll shoot!" the second repeated.
Clearly these muggers were amateurs, since their screaming wasn't something prudent to do, especially when the night was so quiet. Still, I was tired, and I couldn't beat them all up even if I wanted to. I might have if I was at full strength, but well… I wasn't.
"I don't have any money!" I screamed back. It was a lie, but not a big one. I only had enough in my wallet for, say, a bus ride to the hotel, if the buses were still going at that time of night. The rest of my money was in my bank account, and I'd left my ATM card back at the hotel. No real danger… right?
The second lifted the gun, pointing to the space between my eyes, making me struggle all the more. I didn't want to be shot!
"You're lying!" he yelled. "Give us all your money, lady, and I mean now!"
What happened next transpired so quickly that I didn't quite catch every move. The gun was suddenly knocked out of the man's hand, and fell back a few feet. A quick backward glance told me that the other three were already on the ground, writhing in pain. The man who held me let me go, to fight… whoever my glorious savior was.
I fell to the ground, and looked up, trying to recognize the man who just helped me. But my vision was blurry, and he was moving with deathly speed, that it was close to impossible.
The speed… the intensity of the fight… she caught a blur of flames from the man's white pants and in a rush remembered the match she'd just lost.
"Great," I remember mumbling, "I owe my life to the man who just kicked my ass."
By the time I was able to get back up on my feet, he had finished them off. I smiled at him, and said curtly, "Thank you for saving me."
With burning embarrassment I turned to leave. If I never saw his face again I would be eternally grateful to all the good spirits in the world.
"Wait, Julia." I didn't turn back to look at him, but I could hear his slow, uneasy steps toward me. "I came because you dropped your necklace." I only looked at his outstretched hand, which held the pendant I must've dropped during the fight.
I took it, mumbled another thank you, and started walking.
"Julia!"
I froze.
"Please," his voice was somewhat pleading, but I didn't trust my ears anymore. "Stay here. Stay with me."
I shook my head. "I'm sorry," my voice cracked, betraying the tears I'd kept hidden from him, "I can't."
And I walked away, leaving him there by the flickering streetlamps, surrounded by five unconscious men.
Julia was close to tears as she remembered what had happened just a few nights before. She wondered if she could still get off the airplane to Arizona, run back into his arms and tell him how she really felt.
No, she vowed as the plane finally got off the ground and sped up into the air. I've made my choice – I left.
A small tear left the corner of her eye as she looked out the airplane window to the quickly shrinking landscape of Tokyo. Now I wonder if it was the right one.
Author's Note: Please review this… does it seem too rushed? I mean, I just wrote all of this in one morning.