Chapter 3 - King

Morris' dream was as disturbing as the last. Before, though, it was simply a weird dream, scary in only the unfamiliarity. Now, though, Morris actually woke up early, something he hadn't done in years. Nothing was truly distinct, though, as if he wasn't there. Visions of horrible violence, a woman's scream and the cold silence that could announce nothing but her death. Morris tried desperately to think of his previous, far more comforting fantasies, trying to force himself to return to the rig moral of having an unreal encounter with some kind of perfection, preferably with a stunningly erotic Russian accent… or possibly Rogue from X-Men… the cartoon, not the film, of course, Morris hastily told himself as he observed the star lit sky from his hotel window.

"What have I eaten recently?" He asked himself slowly, tracing the shapes of the moon and constellations with his fingertip. He listed them to himself as he whiled away the night, desperate to escape his nightmarish visions of torment that he could neither perceive nor prevent. He cast his gaze to the small mini-bar, and knew the best way to keep nightmares at bay is to merely forget them. He smiled. Alcohol would never betray him. He bent down, and opened the door quietly.

"Don't you ever sleep?" Came Asuka's voice. Morris looked to her, and couldn't help but not answer for a short while, if only to observe her as she rolled as so her vision would have him in its range. He smiled as hair fell across her forehead, untidy and tightly tangled.

"Uneasy dreams." He answered clumsily, watching her discreetly as she rolled once more. Something about her was remarkably attractive to Morris, as much as he disliked admitting to himself. He guessed why, sighing as he realised. He'd be lying if he were to say any other than this, he supposed. Her beauty was flawed, very much in many aspects. She was short for her age, stocky and her nose had been broken sometime ago. However, Morris couldn't help but think these made her even more appealing. They made her more human. A creature of flesh and blood. Women who he fantasised about were perfect, a quality which made them seem unreal, too good to be true.

"Just take some aspirin or something." Asuka encouraged lackadaisically, too tired to really take offence to the rude awakening. Morris sat at the foot of her bed, on the floor, drinking something. He couldn't read the label; he was already too drunk to even read something in his own language. He slowly fell to sleep, a nasty aftertaste in his mouth.

"Please hear me, Morris! MORRIS!" Morris slowly wormed his way into consciousness, his ears aching from the desperate cries of Asuka, whose expression of pure worry alerted Morris of something bad. Morris clambered to his knees, gripping her shoulder for support, deciding to leap into action if necessary.

"What's wrong, Asuka?" He asked, as her eyes, which were red, slowly held a half confused, and almost relieved expression. Then she hardened, forcing herself to be irritated. Morris heard the crack of a whip and felt a tremendous sting in his cheek after she slapped him.

"You bastard, I was so worried." She barked. "I thought you had killed yourself!" Morris decided to observe the bottle he had drank from. Well, no wonder the aftertaste was appalling. It was thick bleach, and he had finished the whole bottle. He gulped. "And get your hand off my breast!" Came Asuka's voice as Morris just noticed where his other hand was.

"Well, I thought, seeing as you indicated a sense of urgent danger, I decided to protect the most precious thing in the room." Morris said, his voice dripping with smugness. Asuka forced the hand away, slapping him once more. He stroked his red raw cheek. "Not my height, anyway. And if you're so sunshine and pure o' heart, why is your hand in my trousers?"

"That's your hand, Morris." Asuka replied. Morris looked down. He sighed with mock defeat, standing up and placing his head against the pane of the door. He began to walk away to find breakfast when he felt a hand brush against his own. He looked into Asuka's hazel eyes as she drew herself closer. "How uneasy were these dreams if they were disturbing enough to provoke suicide?" Morris laughed harshly.

"To be honest, I thought I was raiding the mini-bar." He answered. "I was trying to drink the nightmares away. Poisoning's a little extreme." Asuka smirked. He slapped her arm. "I'm hungry. Let's get some bacon and hard-boiled eggs." They both smiled and began their journey to the bottom floor.

Morris pressed the button that summoned the lift. Asuka looked to him. "Don't think I've forgiven you for groping me." Morris smirked.

"You make it sound like assault." He murmured. She crossed her arms, a mock scowl befalling her features.

An hour later, Morris came to the arena he would be fighting in. The arena was massive, almost to a worrying degree for Morris. His city life had grown him used to the big, the grey and the very very poky. Having that same size with a featureless void of sand in a huge pit as people screamed from above gave Morris a deep sense of agoraphobia. The entire room imposed on him entirely. From outside, he noticed it was a football stadium split into four sections, though he hadn't quite realised just how big just one section was. With the size of at least a quarter of a football stadium showing off just how insignificant Morris was, for once in his life, he couldn't think of anything to say. The sand swept into his face as the wind picked up. He growled as he tasted the rock and the blood. Somebody else had fought here, he assumed. And then he noticed his opponent.

Morris nearly wept with laughter at the man's head. Or rather not the head, as he wore a mask to cover it. It was a realistic leopard's head, though the way it was attached was very poor, and he also seemed to forget to consider that a human head is a lot bigger than a leopard's, so the man had to force his head into his neck to fit. It looked profoundly ridiculous. However, Morris didn't feel too much like laughing after noticing that this man had a torso which resembled six bricks with two breezeblocks stuck on top, with arms and legs sticking out. The huge body only served to make the head look even more crazily out of proportion to the rest of him, though Morris was sure he had taken on brick walls smaller than this guy.

"In the red corner..." Came a tannoy announcement. "- he's considered the world's greatest professional wrestler of today. He's fast, he's strong, he's a veteran to this tournament, and he's well known to us as a fearsome fighter. Meet King the Second." King growled as the following cheers caused the ground to shake from the tremendous volume. Morris gulped. "And in the blue corner, we have…" An unconfident pause as Morris waited for his own impressive speech. " – well, he's stick thin, what am I supposed to say?" The announcer's hushed words didn't fill Morris with the greatest deal of poise. "He's British!" And everyone gave a polite, quiet clap. The sort of clap parents give at a school sports day. Morris's mood didn't improve.

"Oh crap crappington." Morris muttered as the claxon sounded. And so his first fight began.

King moved first. He was as fast as he was strong, and picked Morris up in a suplex. Morris simply closed his eyes. He knew it would hurt. He approached the ground fast. He felt a surge of pain as he made contact, wincing as he landed. King then rolled over and put Morris in a mount.

"Aren't you going to ask or take me to dinner first?" Morris asked curiously. King decided the best way to answer such a statement would be to punch him. Morris took the opportunity to pop his pelvis up. With King's strength focused in the fist, Morris forced King off with tremendous ease. As King's stance was weakened, Morris brought two jabs from the same fist into King's chin, forcing King onto his feet. As Morris's foot smashed King's shin, the momentum of the attacks proved too much for King, who fell onto his back. Morris stood at full height, ready to take full advantage…

- and that was when the birds flocked around him, cawing and screeching as they did. Morris waved his hands desperately. "What the hell? Seriously?" He asked himself. He batted one away, and the others hovered above him. Morris looked up as they circled above. He found that to be a big mistake in a fight as King's punch sent Morris rocketing across the arena floor. The birds were re-invigorated to flock around Morris as he tried to stand up. "STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP!" The crowd didn't share his ire as they howled with laughter. However the birds, amazingly, obeyed, backing off a few metres. Luckily for Morris, they backed off just to where King was, who struggled to get through. Morris decided to use his time well.

He stuck his hand down his trousers.

If this were Cartoon Town, it'd be a safe guess that the audience's eyes would pop out and their jaws would drop to the floor in a way that is medically known as 'impossible'. However, in the real world, only half the audience did this. However, what shocked them more were the words that followed. "Where is it?" Morris asked, as the silence of the stadium echoed the statement. "It isn't where it should be…" And then a look of triumph. "Perfect! And hard as ever!" Then he produced the frying pan. Most of the audience sighed with relief. However, a lot of the women and a worryingly large amount of young men moaned in disappointment. Morris looked to King as he fought his way through the flock of birds.

"Bonk!" Morris shouted as the frying pan slammed onto the top of King's mask, who screamed and growled in pain. A double-cheek-slap, a handle-smash to the shoulder and, as a final insult, a smack to the groin. King fell to his knees, as Morris produced several elastic bands. He began to use the frying pan to flick them at the groaning King. "Give up!" Morris ordered. As if to obey, King fell over, his hand outreached to grab Morris, though it ended up just looking like an overly dramatic surrender.

"That was easy." He muttered, and then he looked up. He saw that, for once, a large group of people were actually entertained by his antics rather than producing weapons. Morris smiled victoriously, giving bows and winks. "Thank you, thank you." He shouted. He looked over to the flock of birds, which were cawing loudly. "Well, you were useful, weirdly." He muttered. Then he walked away. He knew that Asuka was also fighting, and that the aftermath should be commencing.

He walked into the crowd of the next arena, pushing his way past everyone and stealing handfuls of popcorn. He jumped down into the arena itself… and fell into the neck deep water. He looked around the arena. Floating platforms, some of ice, some of foam, scattered across a huge lake. He sighed, self-loathingly. "I thought it was just painted that way." He looked to the two fighters. Asuka and… some other person. And Morris, for once, was awed.

Asuka was indeed finishing up the fight, having not even a scratch on her, her opponent looking much bruised up. However, it was the grace that made Morris gulp. Not one attack seemed out of place. A kick, a punch, a pirouette. It was almost a kind of dance as she swirled and struck, swift as a whirlwind, graceful as a bird, strong as a cyclone. Even on the ice, she didn't even look as if she were to fall. Morris even forgot just how uncomfortable the water was as her fighting style mesmerised him. It was brutal in its complexity and beautiful in its grace. Morris began to wonder how he ever managed to beat her father.

The final blow smashed her opponent into the water with a well-aimed knee. The crowd chanted her name over and over, and she smiled around. Morris swam over to the platform she walked over to. She noticed him. She bent to his level and stretched out her hand.

"How hard King hit you if you managed to land in here?" She asked. Morris laughed.

"On the contrary, Mr dear Watson." Morris said. "I was victorious in my pursuit. And might I add, Asuka, that your fighting style is the second most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Asuka smiled at hearing of Morris's triumph, though she couldn't help not to raise a suspicious eyebrow.

"What's first?" She asked. Morris ran his fingers through his sodden hair.

"What, she says." He said, almost sounding as if he meant it. Asuka smirked.

"Well, we're both in the second round." She said thoughtfully. "How'd it go?" She asked. Morris snorted, grabbing himself a towel.

"Pushover. Yours?"

"Same." Morris laughed harshly at the answer.

"If it's going to be that easy all the way through, I shouldn't have any major problems." Morris replied. "Say, want to go to a bar or something?" Asuka thought about this offer.

"Lunch or drink?" She asked.

"Don't know. You're paying." Morris said.

They were soon at a bar. It had taken a while for the drinks to arrive, but Asuka was tired, and she said that she needed the energy back. As such, she ordered herself a Lucozade. Morris ordered a Tom Collins*. Asuka sighed with mock disheartenment.

"What told me you'd order something with whiskey in it?" She asked him. He shrugged his shoulders, looking up to the television on the wall. There was a fight being shown live, and Morris held particular interest. It was Xiaoyu, somebody who he decided he'd probably rather enjoy hammering to within an inch of her existence.

"She's not as bad as you think." Asuka explained as Morris allowed the whiskey and soda's taste echo around his throat like a shout in a tower. "She may look style over substance, though she's improved more than any other fighter here, from losing to me in the first round two tournaments ago to getting fourth place." Morris smirked.

"That's less than a bronze award. That's, what, copper or something?" He asked her. Asuka shook her head.

"Fourth place doesn't sound great, but consider that there where forty-one of the greatest fighters of all time then." She said. "Me and her included. And I only came sixth."

"Only came sixth?" Morris asked. "Only came sixth? Are you kidding?" Asuka blushed. "You're the sixth best fighter in the world, and you're not proud?"

"The point is…" Asuka took control of the situation. " – she's gotten tough. You're not fighting those kids in the street, you're fighting people tougher than me, and there are plenty of them."

"Not from what I've seen." Morris looked back to the TV. A somersault, a cartwheel, it was making him sick, watching it. "Judging by her flashy techniques, she's a student in arsing around."

"Hakke sho and Hikka ken, actually." Came a wizened voice form behind him. Morris turned around. Wang Jinrei had turned his chair around. "From what I've seen, that's more your departure." He turned to Asuka. "Oh, hello young Kazama." Jinrei said pleasantly.

"Master Wang, it is an honour to meet you again." Asuka bowed her head. Jinrei turned to Morris.

"You can laugh at my name, you know, I'm not offended." He pointed to Morris, who shook his head to say that he wasn't laughing. He refused to open his mouth in fear of embarrassing himself. "I know you're not trying to laugh because you're shaking, smiling, and you appear to have bent your spoon." Morris looked to the tell-tale spoon. He looked back.

"It's not effort of not laughing." He spoke with utmost sincerity. "It's telekinesis. I've had psychic powers since I was born. Like a Pokemon!" He added optimistically. Jinrei and Asuka collectively rolled their eyes. Then Jinrei leaned towards Morris.

"Poop." He said. The flood gates opened, and Morris fell off the chair in fits of laughter. Jinrei sat in the seat and began to talk to Asuka. "Asuka, if you wanted help defeating Jin, you should've found somebody competent at fighting." Morris was too busy laughing to contribute or even listen to the conversation they began.

"He is competent." She answered. "He's an idiot, though he's a darn good fighter. I saw him take on twenty larger, stronger, armed opponents when he was drunk and he didn't even break a sweat."

"Did he tell you how he beat King? He took a frying pan out of his pants and hit him around the head with it."

"He still beat him." Asuka sighed slightly. She knew, on many levels, Jinrei was right. She looked to Morris's shaking, laughing form. She looked back to Jinrei. "He's unorthodox, yes, and yet…" She thought about what she was about to say. " – and yet he might be just what we need."

"You know that's wrong. You know that's a barefaced lie, and you know that all you've done is brought somebody into this who didn't need to be." Jinrei looked to Morris. So did Asuka. "Do you think this is what we need against that monster?" Asuka sighed.

"He'll try, though." She said. "It's not enough to beat Jin, though it's a good example to us all." Morris began to pull himself up. He giggled slightly.

"Priceless." He muttered. He took a sip of Asuka's Lucozade. He looked to Jinrei. "So what do you want, beardy?" Jinrei stood up to leave.

"I was going to ask you to defeat Xiaoyu quickly, but…" Jinrei started. Morris grasped his hand.

"Easy there, old man." He said. "This sounds interesting."

"Well," Jinrei sat down again. " - one of you must defeat Xiaoyu; otherwise she'll be in great peril." Morris and Asuka both raised their eyebrows.

"Wow. That's the first statement to make me reconsider fighting Xiaoyu." Morris said. Asuka punched his arm. Jinrei continued.

"You see, Jin Kazama has returned to Japan, as you are probably aware." He said. "However, I think he might be looking for Xiaoyu. I don't know why, though something tells me that he wants to get to her. He's strong, and I know he'll reach the final round. He will stop at nothing to win, and he doesn't care who he hurts in this tournament." Jinrei seemed mournful. Asuka growled at mention of Jin. Morris then thought of something. Something that, weirdly, was actually kind of smart.

"What would Jin want with your granddaughter?" Morris asked. "She's clearly not carrying around any state secrets, she would have accidentally blurted them all out by now if she did, so what would a megalomaniacal CEO want with a schoolgirl considers Caramelldansen a higher form of art than poetry?"

"Well, they were school friends and, well, I fear she may love him." Jinrei answered simply.

"Wait. Trying to wipe out his family, wooing his school friends and trying to conquer the world. This guy must wake up early. Zero points to him for laziness and ten for being an arsehole" Morris commented. Asuka snorted slightly. "And also, Jin wouldn't have anything to gain going after Xiaoyu. What's she to him?" Jinrei looked embarrassed.

"To be honest, I don't know." He replied. "At the fifth tournament, I lost to him. He promised to end the Mishima curse. I foolishly believed him, though I sensed the devil within him. Because of my lack of action, he is no longer Jin. The devil within him has taken full control. And I think the devil may want something from her." Morris considered this.

"She's flat as a board." He began to list reasons for not needing her. "She's thicker than a brick. She's as useless as a waterproof sponge… what would Jin want from her? Sex is out of the question, she just doesn't have that look. He can't really hold her ransom as she doesn't have any rich carers. She can't help him, so he has nothing to gain."

"Not necessarily, Doctor Watson." Asuka quoted. "If Jin ever felt for her, the devil would need to make sure Jin lost all hope. To ensure total control over Jin and complete strength." She clicked her fingers. Jinrei nodded.

"I knew you'd figure it out." He said. "Even I couldn't." Morris shook his head.

"Why are we all calling him 'devil' for some reason? Has he got DID?" He asked. Asuka and Jinrei looked to each other.

"It's complicated." Jinrei said finally. "You concentrate on making sure that Xiaoyu and Jin never meet." Morris chuckled slightly.

"Trying to assert control over the other part of his mind." He repeated to himself. "Sounds like what would happen if Breaking Benjamin directed the Nutty Professor. 'Eddie Murphy as a whiny man-bitch', what do you think of it?" Jinrei rolled his eyes and walked away irritably. Morris laughed.

"Old loony." Morris muttered.

"Actually, he's a highly respected friend of the Kazama family. If he says something, he'll probably be right." Asuka turned to Morris.

"That's the problem. 'Probably'. If you worry about what will happen, it will happen. I just dive in, so whatever happens, I won't be surprised too badly." Morris chuckled slightly. "If you believe that, you'll believe me when I say the sun's made of snow." Asuka chuckled as well, though the reminder of the task they had ahead weighed on her good mood.

* A Tom Collins is a kind of drink that... oh, just Google it, you lazy shits