Disclaimer: I don't own Fatal Fury, King of Fighters or related characters. Such is the property of SNK. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.

(A/N: Ha! I bet y'all though I had forgotten about this story, huh.)

Sore ga Ai, Deshou?

Chapter Sixteen: The Ghost from Hamlet

Andy sat upright on his futon, one leg drawn in as if in lotus position the other outstretched so as not to put unnecessary strain on the stitches that held the wound on his thigh closed. It was not the optimum position for meditation but it was functional and that was what mattered.

Andy descended down into the core of his being as his master had instructed him to. There, just above his naval he felt an odd light or did he see a soft warmth? Neither made sense, you couldn't feel light or see warmth, but then again your bodies physical senses didn't really matter in so deep a trance, it was only how your mind interpreted such senses.

"That is your ki…" His master's voice sounded soft and faint as if the aged warrior were speaking to him across a great distance.

Andy circled the mysterious power curiously. It was both warm and cool, pliant yet strong, ephemeral but still fixed. His mind could not understand it, it was other, strange.

"Take it," Hanzo's voice was saying, "take just a small piece of it and come back, bring it out with you."

Andy did as he was told, reaching out with his self he took a piece of this strange power that slept within him and began to ascended back to full consciousness. When he once again opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was his master's face smirking in triumph. Wondered, only for a moment why the old ninja looked so smug before he saw the light he now held between his two outstretched hands.

A soft blueish-white light that looked so solid yet felt as immaterial as air. This, this was his ki. Andy stared transfixed by the light in his hands as if hypnotized. It seemed otherworldly and yet so real at the same time.

"Well done, puppy." Hanzo's voice pulled him out of his mesmerized state. "You can put it away now. Tomorrow we'll work on drawing it out faster."

The old master stood to leave.

"'Put it away'?" Andy looked up in confusion. "But how am I supposed…?"

"The same way you drew it out, of course." Hanzo replied as if this should have been obvious. He exited leaving Andy sitting on his futon holding a glowing ball of pure energy in utter confusion.

…

Koinosuke had taken to leaving his shirt off while outside. He said it was to ward off the unbearable humidity of the Japanese summer but Mai wasn't fooled. He was showing off the large black and purple bruise he'd gotten in his spar with Andy. He probably thought he was a big, tough man with a wound like that. Hah!

Andy was a real man! He might be a few months younger than Koinosuke was but he was far more mature. Andy had a concept of the real world, how the world really worked. Koinosuke had been spoiled and pampered all his life… just like she had… Andy had called Mai a "pampered princess" once and maybe that was true. She was practically a princess in all but an actual royal sense. But if she was a pampered princess then Koinosuke was a spoiled pompous princeling.

He went through the monitions of his ninjitsu forms with a strained expression on his face, as if every movement was agonizing to complete. But Mai saw right through it. His face my have said he was in pain but the actual movements themselves were fluid and unburdened, he was fine. Koinosuke always had loved to play-up his injuries, it seemed that this one was no different. Mai was not impressed.

She wondered idly if she should confront him about it directly. If she should walk up to him and flat out say, "Look, you're not fooling anyone and you're just making yourself out to be an idiot, so cut the crap and act normal." But he would probably just fain ignorance. And so she didn't.

A small explosion startled everyone on the beach and they all turned to find that a sizable chunk of wall that been blown clear from the villa's second floor. No sooner had anyone realized this than there was a rain of debris from the explosion and everyone clamored to get out of the fallout zone with many an exclamation of, "Mother Trucker!" and "Son of a Itch!" and questions of "What the Hell just happened?"

Mai pelted whatever debris came her way to the side with her fan as she pushed passed the other members of the Shiranui clan to get back to the villa. Andy had been inside when it had happened, on the second floor in fact, laid-up with his injured leg. She hoped he wasn't in the room when it blew.

Her grandfather was already there when she arrived, standing in the doorway to the chrysanthemum room, his back to the hall. The aged ninja glared down at his apprentice. Mai squeezed around her grandfather just enough to see Andy, sitting on his bed surrounded by debris and charred bits of everything with not a scratch on him. He looked sheepishly up at his master and said:

"It slipped."

…

"'It slipped'!? 'It slipped'! That's all he had to say for himself?" Nagare was livid (as were several other members of the Shiranui clan) upon hearing that Andy, Hanzo's hakujin pet-project, was the cause of the explosion.

The boy had lost control of his ki and the energy ball had drifted into contact with the outer wall of the room and blasted outwards onto the beach. No one had be grievously injured (thank goodness) but the damage to the property was enough to cost the family a tidy sum.

Hanzo sat impassively, his arms crossed over his chest wile his brother paced around the room. All the elder members of the clan had gathered to discuss the "problem" of the young hakujin disciple and Hanzo knew that whatever was decided here would not be in his favor. He had brought Andy into their house and so the boy was his responsibility.

Still, if any other disciple of the Shiranui-ryu had caused an incident like earlier today they wouldn't be having a meeting like this. The difference was that Andy was not a son of the Shiranui clan, he was an outsider, he wasn't one of them.

"He's just a boy." Hanzo said in his apprentice's defense knowing that would have no sway whatsoever. True, he was still just a child, but he was a child on the cusp of becoming a man and as such more was expected of him and he would be judged harshly regardless of what the old ninja said in his defense. Nagare had wanted to be rid of the boy since he'd first arrived in the Shiranui clan and now it seemed Andy had given him exactly what he wanted: an excuse to kick him out.

"Age means nothing to a ninja." One of the clan's elders said. "He should be able to control his abilities."

"That is my fault as a teacher and should not be reflected on Andy!" Hanzo shot back.

Nagare patted his brother on the shoulder, coming from anyone else the gesture might have been comforting, but coming from Naga it was somehow mocking. "I told you, Ani-ue, you're brought a wolf into our house and when you reach out to a wolf, he's liable to bite your hand."

Hanzo shrugged the unwelcome hand from his shoulder. "Your metaphors are neither helpful nor welcome, Naga."

"Still, he is right." Another of those gathered said. "You were unwise to welcome such undesirable a creature into our clan and now we all must pay for it."

"So 'undesirable a creature'? He's a child, not an animal!"

"He's American." Nagare shrugged.

And there it was, right there. 'He's American.' There was the root from which all the clan's problems with Andy stemmed, he was an American. Many of the older members of the clan had lived through the Second World War and bore a certain prejudice against America and its people.

Hanzo balled his hands into fists at his sides; this was one battle he would not win. "If it is the clan's wish I will send the boy elsewhere."

Everyone in the room seemed to relax at that admission.

…

The rest of the summer had passed quickly enough and before anyone knew it they were back at the Mino residence. Hanzo had arranged for Andy to live with his friend Yamada Jubei. At the Yamada dojo he could continue his kappoujitsu and ninjitsu training and be ready to face his father's killer but still be away from the rest of the Shiranui clan. It was an acceptable compromise.

Now was the best time for him to move anyway as it was still summer vacation between school years. It was the best time for him to transfer schools as well as homes, much better than transferring in the middle of the year.

Andy plunked his bag down in the Yamada dojo's entryway so as to have an extra hand to pull his shoes off with. Once again he had been sent away from a home because he was a 'problem child'. It seemed even away from America and out of the foster system he was still being passed around like an unwanted fruitcake at a Christmas dinner.

Andy placed his shoes in an empty cubby whole of a shoe rack that had been placed against the well in the entryway.

"Want me to take this to your room for you?" Jubei asked, lifting the boy's duffle bag.

"That's not necessary, Sensei." Andy shook his head. "I carried it all the way here, I can carry it to the room I'll be sleeping in."

Jubei was no psychologist but he paused briefly at the boy's choice of words, 'the room I'll be sleeping in' as opposed to, 'my room'. The old man shrugged, psychology wasn't his strong suit and he didn't have much experience with children. He chose not to make anything of it. "Well, if you're sure."

Andy padded down the short hallway that ran down the middle of the house. The doors to the room that he assumed would be 'his room' was left open, both the one opening into the hall as well as the one that lead outside to the yard. He assumed it was to let the room air out. The whole house had a tendency to smell like 'old man'. A futon and bedding was folded and set against a sidewall, presumably so Andy could arrange it to his taste. A small closet also stood open and empty, waiting for him to deposit his meager wardrobe.

Andy let his duffle bag drop to the floor as he flopped down on the neatly folded bedding, effectively rumpling and wrinkling it and degrading it in to a pile of general disarray. He missed his father. That crappy small apartment he had shared with Jeff, Terry and Tung was the only home he'd never been kicked out of, it was the only home he had ever called 'home'. Before that it had always been '(Name of foster parents') house'. But with Jeff it had been home.

It was the one home he was never reluctant to go back to after school. It was the one home he never felt unwanted or burdensome. It was the one home where he'd been able to live with Terry. No other foster home had been willing to take the both of them together but Jeff had not just taken them into his house, he had adopted them as his own. Given them not just a home but a name as well.

He missed his home.

Andy wondered where Terry was and how he was progressing with his training. It had been years since he'd seen his brother. He wondered if he was having the same problems with girls or school or acne or if he was still wearing that same stupid hat… Andy laid down in the pile of soft bedding while thinking of his brother and adopted father and promptly fell asleep.

…

"Wake up, sleepy head…"

"Huh…?" Andy slowly opened his eyes at the sound of the gentle voice that had roused him from his slumber. He gazed up into the warm and reassuring brown eyes of Jeff Bogard. "Dad?"

"No, the ghost from Hamlet." His father teased. "C'mon, just because it's Saturday, just because you and your brother don't have school is no reason to laze about."

Andy sat bolt upright. This wasn't right, Jeff was dead! He was living in Japan, training to avenge his death. Wasn't he…? No, it couldn't have been, that was just a dream. A sad weird dream… He rolled out of bed and pulled out a clean pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt from his dresser while Jeff turned to the second bed in the room and attempted to rouse its occupant.

"Five more minuets…" Terry muttered and rolled over, pulling the blankets over his head to better muffle the sounds of his father's nagging and brother getting ready for the day.

"I will get a bucket of cold water." Jeff threatened.

Terry made no response, only continued to lay in bet in a vain attempt to reclaim the sleep from which he had been so rudely pulled. Jeff threw up his arms in defeat and exited the room. Andy stood by the side of his brother's bed after he had finished dressing; he contemplated whether or not it might be a good idea to attempt to wake Terry as well but decided against it. The elder Bogard brother was not a morning person was cranky and snappy and just all around unpleasant to be around when woken up to early.

Andy exited the bedroom he shared with Terry into the living room back-slash dinning room back-slash kitchen of their small apartment and was greeted by the pleasant scent of frying bacon, hash browns and eggs. Master Tung sat at the kitchen's foldout table reading the South Town Times. He peered out the side of his paper when Andy entered and pulled out the crossword and sudoku. He set the page down at the boy's normal seat at the table; it was part of their morning routine.

Wait. Was it part of their routine? Andy couldn't remember ever doing the crossword and sudoku before. Was his normal morning routine to go jogging or do some calisthenics before breakfast? The boy mentally shrugged and decided that he must still be half asleep and sat at the table, taking the offered mind-puzzles.

He was halfway through the Across section of the crossword when Jeff placed a plate of warm eggs, bacon and potatoes in front of him. It was at that moment that Terry chose to grace them with his presence, swaggering out of the bedroom still in his PJs and wearing that annoying red and white cap that he always wore. Andy sometimes thought it was a wonder that he didn't take it into the shower with him.

"Mornin' all." He yawned.

"Ah, sleeping beauty wakes!" Jested Jeff as he offered Terry a plate of food.

The family ate in contented silence and Andy was happy that this was his reality and not that awful dream…

After breakfast Jeff took the boys to the park. He sat on the grass under the shade of a tree to watch his sons play.

Terry was busy pestering Andy to play a one-on-one game of basketball with him but the younger boy refused. Basketball was Terry's thing not his, his hobby was… what was his hobby? Training? But why? What reason did he have to train everyday if his dad hadn't really been killed by Geese? There seemed to be gaping holes in his memory. What had he been doing these past few years with his family that he didn't remember?

Andy knew he wasn't going to figure anything out with his brother nagging him to play a stupid game. He gave Terry the bush-off and walked over to sit with Jeff in the shade of his tree.

"You don't wanna play with your brother?" His father asked.

"I…" Andy faltered. How would he explain a severe amnesia like this to his dad? "I didn't want to be out in the sun. You know how I burn easily."

Jeff nodded and Andy supposed that this must be a common occurrence on outings such as this, he couldn't remember. Jeff reached into a picnic basket that Andy didn't think they had brought with them and pulled out a small stack of sandwiches. He offered one to Andy.

"Since you're not gonna play with your brother, how 'bout some lunch."

Andy obediently took the offered food. It was bland and tasteless in his mouth but he took a few more bites before setting it to the side so as not to insult his father's culinary skills.

"Is something bothering you?" Jeff asked after a prolonged pause.

"No." Andy answered slowly. "Not really. It's just that… I think I'm a little confused is all. Never mind."

Jeff seemed to accept his answer and didn't push the issue. He turned his attention back to watching Terry. He had found someone else to play with. Andy and Jeff watched them play half-court from the shade of their tree. A slight breeze rustled the leaves of their tree and tousled Andy's long hair about his face. The boy pulled a strand of his flyaway golden hair from his eyes and saw the Jeff was unaffected by the breeze.

"Its nice, isn't it?" His father said without looking at him. "The wind on your face. It feels good, doesn't it?"

"Can't you feel it?" Andy asked in confusion.

Instead of answering Jeff turned to face his younger son and smiled a sad and forlorn looking smile.

At that moment the wind stopped, the sound's of the park seemed to fade-out as if Andy were suddenly going deaf, his vision focused completely on Jeff as if he were seeing him through a tunnel.

"You can't feel it..." The boy said slowly. "Because you're not really here."

Jeff nodded.

"Because you're dead."

Another nod.

At that moment there was a whoosh and everything disappeared. Terry vanished as did the muted colors and sounds of the park, the tree under which the sat, everything but Jeff. The two of them stood in an empty void. Jeff turned to leave.

"Wait!" Andy called.

The specter of his father paused.

"I'll avenge you!" The boy promised. "Me and Terry, we're working really hard so that we can get the guy who killed you!"

The ghost of his father nodded. "I know."

And then he was gone and Andy was left standing in the void, alone.

...

Andy awoke laying on the wrinkled mass of bedding that had been provided for him by Jubei. He had been laying in an odd position and his back and neck hurt in places. The boy stood and stretched a bit before arranging the bedding properly.

It was early evening by this time and a light summer breeze drifted in from the outside through wide open door. It tousled Andy's long hair about his face and reminded him of the dream he'd just been having. The boy brushed his hair out of his face and shut the door. He didn't want the reminded of his father's absence.

He cast a sideways glance at his duffle bag, wondering if he should put his things away or not. His stomach gave a gurgling grumble and he decided to put that off until after dinner.

He entered Jubei's kitchen, a metaphoric rain-cloud of melancholy over his head. If the old Judo master noticed this or not he made no comment. If Andy was depressed it was best to let him get over it in his own way. Coping was part of growing up.

…