Act 2: The way of inhaling and exhaling is with hardness and softness.
Rivalry
Kyoshi Takuma Sakazaki, master instructor of Kyokugenryu Karatedo, knelt at the head of the training hall in seated meditation. He reached into his lapel to retrieve the handwritten invitation, and he placed it on the floor in front of him, as it was now up for grabs. He looked to his most senior student; Robert Garcia hopped to his feet, adjusted his gi and proceeded to the center of the dojo. Takuma then regarded the visiting delegation from the Yata Clan. A young woman, possibly his daughter's age and far too serious for someone of her years, rose and named her champion. The Yata's challenger hopped onto the mat and faced Robert. The two men bowed, and Takuma gave the command to begin:
"Hajime!"
The fighters attacked with spirit and vigor; both were a credit to their martial arts lineage. After the first exchange, however, Takuma knew that Robert would win easily. As such, he was more inclined to study the countenances of the many onlookers on the sidelines, especially that of his daughter Yuri. The way that she pined for Robert was not surprising given the karateka's confidence. Unfortunately, that same confidence, responsible for the smug grin on Robert's face, would ultimately keep him from ever surpassing Ryo. It was also the reason why the fight had dragged on for as long as it did, much to Takuma's chagrin.
A body slammed onto the mat. The young woman lowered her head when Robert's opponent tapped out, saying, "The Yata Clan yields." And Robert released his opponent's hypersupinated arm.
Takuma's expression betrayed no emotion at his school's victory when he declared, "You have fought with honor." With that, the challengers left in peace. The match over, Takuma placed the invitation back into his lapel, and he ordered his students to fall in alongside Robert. After congratulations were made, he addressed his champion, saying, "Well done, Garcia-Sempai. You and Ryo will represent Kyokugenryu at the upcoming tournament."
Robert smiled. "Thank you, Kyoshi."
"I trust that you are up to the task of protecting our invitation until Ryo's return at the end of the season?"
Robert smiled. "No need for Ryo to cut his stay in Japan short, Kyoshi. If anything, the challengers keep the day from getting boring." His response was met with cheers from some of the other students.
With a furrowed brow Takuma grunted. "So long as you remember Dojo Kun number six."
"Conceitedness halts progress," Robert recited in answer to his master's subtle rebuke. He then bowed in apology. "I will remember, Kyoshi." His peers likewise quieted.
Satisfied, Takuma dismissed the class and left the mat. He was on his way to his office when he was halted by the gentle familiar voice of his daughter Yuri.
"Dad, you got a sec?"
Takuma smiled at her. "Of course, Yuri-chan."
Yuri approached awkwardly with her hands fumbling behind her back. She refrained from looking her father directly in the eyes when she spoke, "Is it true that three-man—er—person teams will be competing in this year's tournament?"
"That is correct."
"Have you decided who will be Kyokugenryu's third representative?"
"Not yet."
"I have also heard that women will be allowed to compete this year."
"I have heard the same."
Yuri bit her lip, employing that same voice she often used when she wanted something from her father. "Well... I just wanted to tell you that... I'm ready to fight if you need me."
"I'm glad to hear that, because I am going to need you."
She gasped, "Really?" Her eyes beamed.
He patted her affectionately on the top of her head. "I'm going to need you to be an excellent training partner for your sempais Ryo and Robert. But, I don't want you anywhere near that tournament. Do you understand?"
Her shoulders slumped. "But, Dad—"
"Run along home now." His dismissiveness brooked no further discussion. "And don't wait up for me; I'll be dining out tonight."
Yuri pouted and stormed off. "... Never lets me do anything..."
So much like her mother... Takuma chuckled under his breath as he entered his office, locking the door behind him.
Takuma turned on the lights and closed the blinds. He opened the wall safe behind his desk, retrieved the invitation from his lapel and placed it inside. His hand brushed against something familiar inside the crowded safe, and he pulled out the object wrapped in an unassuming black cloth. He unwrapped it and regarded the red tengu mask: the demonic visage, with its exaggerated features, feathery hair and long protruding nose, inspired long dormant memories to awaken in him. He tossed the mask on his desk, and it ruffled the pages of last week's newspaper. Takuma straightened them out again, making visible the headline that read:
FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED IN GEESE HOWARD'S DEATH.
The date on the newspaper inspired him to glance at the calendar by the door, and he lost himself in his thoughts.
Year of the dog...
o~o~o~o~o~O~o~o~o~o~o
The last time Takuma's calendar marked the year of the dog, his hair was far less gray. He remembered hearing a knock on his office door:
Shihan Takuma Sakazaki smiled upon seeing his visitor through the door's windowed pane and beckoned the tall man to enter.
Takuma rose from his desk and bowed in greeting to his long time friend and fellow martial artist, saying, "You honor me with your visit, Master Bogard. Please join me for tea."
Jeff Bogard bowed in kind and shook Takuma's hand, though he seemed to take issue with his new title. "Master implies that I have nothing left to learn, Sakazaki-Shihan."
"Better to think of it as allowing your students to show the same respect that you have, no doubt, given to your teacher Master Tung."
Jeff smiled and took a seat in front of Takuma's desk. "I like that I can always count on you for a balanced perspective, Sakazaki-Shihan."
Takuma smirked and took his seat. "I'm afraid that my motives are not entirely pure, for I look forward to being able to say that I have bested a Hakkyokuseiken master when I win our next match."
"Indeed, but you must win it first, my old friend... And I do stress the 'old' part."
"Speak for yourself." Takuma poured the hot tea into Jeff's cup. "So, how is the family?"
"Terry already has a grasp of the mechanics behind Master Tung's Floating Eagle form: an achievement not yet realized by many practitioners twice his age, " Jeff said with pride.
Not to be outdone, Takuma replied with, "Ryo is not yet thirteen and has earned 'Best of Test' honors at his green belt test. He is on his way to becoming an exemplary karateka."
"It looks like our son's will be rivals soon enough."
Takuma held up his cup in toast. "To rivalry..."
Jeff nodded in tacit approval, and both men drank.
"I will look forward to testing your new skills at this so-called King of Fighters tournament that your rich friend is putting together," Takuma said.
"I have withdrawn my invitation." Jeff's manner changed, becoming more sullen. "Geese Howard and I had a... falling out. I'm afraid that there is malfeasance behind the King of Fighters tournament."
"Why do you say that?"
"Ever since Master Tung chose me to inherit the highest teachings of Hakkyokuseiken, Geese has changed."
"Or, maybe he is finally revealing his true self, Jeff."
"I admit that I was blind, Takuma. I didn't want to believe that Geese was capable of the things that people were saying about him."
"In that case I will withdraw my invitation as well—"
"No." Jeff was quick to interject. "He'll know that I spoke to you. Geese must suspect nothing of you in case I fail."
Takuma's eyes narrowed. "What is going on here, Jeff?"
"I have reason to believe that Geese is trying to assemble the Qin Book of Secrets."
"I have never heard of this book."
Jeff took his time to finish his drink and collect his thoughts. He took a deep, quiet breath and recounted a tale as it was told to him by his master and his master before him:
"Two thousand years ago, as emperor Qin Shi Huang reached middle age, he began to fear death. Half of the empire's fortune was spent to commission the wizard Anqi Sheng to commit the secret words of the ancients to paper so that the Emperor could recite them and achieve immortality. However, the Emperor did not know that the wizard schemed to use that power to destroy all off of humanity in the process. Fortunately, the Emperor's most trusted general, Qin Wang Long, saw through the wizard's evil heart: he challenged Anqi Sheng to a duel, and he pierced the wizard's heart with his sword. However, as the wizard lay dying, he was able to finish the final words of the book with his own blood. Anqi Sheng cursed the pages, saying that the most powerful fighter would one day utter the secrets of the ancients. When the Emperor learned of the wizard's plan, he ordered the indestructible book to be divided into three scrolls and scattered to the wind."
Takuma reflected on his friends words saying, "The Okinawan Bubishi speaks of three scrolls: the scroll of destruction, the scroll of creation and the scroll of power. It is foretold that the warrior who can tame all three in the year of the dog will become a god. It refers to them as the Jin Scrolls."
"They are one and the same," Jeff replied. "I have reason to believe that Geese is already in possession of the Scroll of Creation and seeks to acquire the Scroll of Power."
"It is a fool's pursuit," Takuma scoffed.
Jeff's brow furrowed. "You don't believe me?"
"I believe that the scrolls existed; I just don't believe in magic," Takuma said. "If you want to stop Geese, join with the rest of the small business community. We're going to lobby the city council to drop Proposition Thirty-Four that would grant The Howard Corporation police power over Southtown."
"It is politics that is the stuff of myths and legends." Jeff's smile returned. "If Geese is successful, Proposition Thirty-Four won't matter."
Takuma snorted. "It appears that we have once again reached an impasse, my friend."
"I plan on intercepting the Scroll of Power. Meet me tonight at Howard Arena, and you will believe." Jeff rose from his seat, glanced in the direction of Takuma's wall safe and smiled knowingly. "Take care while you're out: I have heard stories of a masked vigilante roaming the streets."
Takuma's widened eyes betrayed his apprehension. "I... have heard similar stories. Some say this masked vigilante is a hero."
Jeff's grin broadened. "And most say he's a lunatic." He said his goodbyes and left.
o~o~o~o~o~O~o~o~o~o~o
Takuma's arrival at the tallest building in Southtown brought his thoughts back to the present. The night air was nippy, but his hot breath warmed his face inside his tengu mask. From the shadows he waited for the security patrol to pass before coming out of hiding. When the guards made the block, Takuma made his move and ran across the open quad. Halfway he frowned: had he been a younger man he would have traversed the distance by now. He hopped over the police barricade and came upon the fading chalk outline on the pavement. From the crime scene's vantage point at the base of Howard Tower, it was impossible to see all the way to Geese's penthouse.
Takuma knelt over the chalk outline that marked Geese Howard's demise:
Nothing living could have survived such a fall.
His hand brushed against the large crack circumscribed by the chalk outline, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end—excited by the horrible power that imbued the broken concrete.
This familiar energy that continued to linger after the fact once again brought the memories of that fateful day to the forefront of his mind.
o~o~o~o~o~O~o~o~o~o~o
Takuma's recollection brought him back to the appointment he had made with Jeff Bogard at Howard Arena. He remembered it too was a breezy moonlit night all those years ago:
Takuma waited, perched atop the fire escape of one of the buildings overlooking the arena square. The entire block was deathly quiet and dark given that the many shops that lined the street had long since closed for the night. Takuma glanced at his watch; it was unlike Jeff to be so late.
He was about to abandon the meeting when a dark figure strolled casually onto the open plaza. He spied Jeff Bogard through his binoculars. He was about to come out of hiding when he noticed that Jeff stilled and assumed a defensive posture. Soon after, another man stepped out of the shadows. Words were spoken, but Takuma was too far away to make out who was speaking or what was being said.
Takuma focused his binoculars on the well-dressed man wearing a three-piece suit who squared off against the Hakkyokuseiken master. When this new entrant removed his double-breasted blazer, Takuma clenched his jaw upon recognizing the owner of the long, blond hair that swayed in the breeze.
Geese!
By the time Takuma climbed down the fire escape, Jeff and Geese were locked into mortal combat. His first instinct was to come to his friend's aid—but he had to be careful. He continued to sweep the area visually to make sure he wouldn't be running into an ambush. As for Jeff, he stopped worrying when he saw that Geese was no match for Master Tung's top student. Each of Geese's attacks were countered with devastating results.
Less than a minute into the fight, Geese was already bent over, exhausted, with Jeff towering over him. When Geese made one final desperate lunge, Jeff's death-touch struck Geese's throat, and he slumped to the ground. Jeff brushed himself off and turned his back on his fatally wounded enemy.
Content that the area was secure, Takuma started for Howard Arena. He waved; Jeff saw him and waved back.
Then it happened...
Jeff was kicked off of his feet from behind, and the back of his skull met with the hard ground. He shook off the fog and regained consciousness just in time to look upon the hateful glower of this man who should have been a corpse by now.
Standing over his prey, Geese raised both arms over his head as he looked to the heavens, saying, "Raging—" But the rest was made unintelligible behind the thunderclap of Geese's hands coming down to crush Jeff's rib cage into pulp.
Takuma looked on, stunned in disbelief. His first thought was to call for help, but as he looked about the empty merchant street, he knew there was no one around to send for aid. He regarded his reflection in the window looking into the jewelry shop, and he clenched his fist.
Ko-Ou Ken!
The thick glass shattered, yielding to the force behind Takuma's punch, and an alarm sounded. It gave away his position, but he didn't care. He put on his tengu mask and ran to the scene.
Geese seemed too preoccupied to notice as he continued to rifle through Jeff's pockets, searching for something. Takuma ran faster; it grew hot inside his mask.
Takuma came upon Geese and, when he was in range, leapt into a flying kick.
However, at the last possible moment, Geese turned, snatched Takuma's ankle out of the air—"Predictable!"—and he flung him over his shoulder like a flimsy bag of rice.
Takuma twisted in mid-air, drawing in his limbs as he righted himself, and he landed on his feet without disturbing so much as a blade of grass. He squared off against Geese as he kicked off his shoes. His toes gripped the earth; his Qi channeled his rage. The alarm that rang in the distance was but a soothing lull.
Geese loosened his tie and folded his arms as he regarded his masked opponent. Unimpressed, he merely snorted.
Takuma rushed in, leading with a phony kick that Geese easily side stepped, and he smiled, knowing precisely where Geese would be.
Geese turned into Takuma's backfist. Though dazed, he was able to stay on his feet, but Takuma kept the pressure on with a relentless barrage of punches to Geese's midsection, followed by a jumping, spinning crescent kick aimed to take his head off.
Geese caught the kick at Takuma's ankle and threw the karate man, but this time Takuma was ready: he came about, grabbed a handful of Geese's long flowing hair, and their combined momentum sent both men tumbling into the sod.
Takuma scrambled to his feet, but Geese was already on top of him with a flying punch.
Takuma shifted slightly, stepping inside the arc of the punch, and he hip-tossed Geese onto his back. He then dropped himself on top of Geese, landing his elbow heavily into the murderer's heart. Takuma sneered when he felt Geese's sternum snap. He rolled off, poised to deliver the killing blow, but hesitated when Geese started mumbling—no... chanting.
"KIAI!"
Geese caught Takuma's iron palm and rose to his feet. His grip tightened around Takuma's hand as he finished chanting. The blond inhaled deeply, expanding his chest, and his ribs popped back into place.
Shit! Takuma lips curled into a snarl as he finally perceived Geese's strategy. He's using The Creation Scroll to heal himself! His arm shook as he pulled back against his enemy's grip.
Geese sneered, and his free hand cut the air. "Reppuken!"
Takuma broke free just in time. He leapt aside to avoid the wave of destructive energy that left the earth razed in its wake; it found another victim in a nearby tree. The hairs on the back of Takuma's neck stood on end as he watched the split tree fall over; the American predilection for profanity seemed the only appropriate response:
"What the fuck!"
The blare of the sirens was getting louder and more numerous. Geese scowled and glared at his masked enemy one last time before retreating into the darkness. Their reckoning would have to wait for another day.
The police were getting closer, yet Takuma refused to leave Jeff behind. He rushed to his friend's side and took his hand. Jeff coughed to clear the blood from his collapsed lungs. "Don't try to speak. Help is on the way."
With the last of his strength, all Jeff could manage was to whisper, "Hid it... inside the dead toreador..." and he breathed his last.
Takuma felt Jeff's grip loosen.
Takuma would never forget the day that he buried his friend, standing alongside Master Tung and Jeff's two young sons. In the coming days, the authorities would say that Jeff Bogard's death was caused by lightning—a freak accident. Proposition thirty-four would pass, and over the years Geese would go on to become the silent master of Southtown with no one to oppose him.
Except the man in the tengu mask...
o~o~o~o~o~O~o~o~o~o~o
"Good evening, sir. I'm King, the owner of La Illusion."
The genteel feminine voice snapped Takuma out of his reverie, and he cleared his throat. "Pardon?"
"The waitress said that you had a problem with your meal?" King clarified.
Takuma looked down to his half-eaten steak and blushed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to imply such; I was just curious if saké was used for the glaze?"
She nodded in reply. "You have a very discerning palate. Would you like to meet the chef?"
Takuma rose—"Dōzo, don't go through the trouble"—and he bowed in apology. "Er, I was also admiring your painting next to the bar. Where did you find it, If you don't mind my asking?"
"I don't mind," King said. "It used to hang over the piano at the old Club L'amor."
"Are you aware of this painting's history?"
"Non. I'm afraid art is not my forte."
"May I?" Takuma pulled out a chair for her.
King blushed, failing to recall the last time a man did such a thing for her, and she tentatively sat in the proffered chair. "Okay."
"It's called The Dead Toreador," Takuma explained as he took the seat next to her. "It was painted by a French artist named Manet and was once part of a larger piece, before the artist cut it out."
"Why did he do that?"
"The painting was met with much criticism, but I don't think we'll ever know for sure. Still, it's rewarding to look for meaning in things that people were fated to do."
"Fate?" King scoffed, nonplussed. "Maybe the pieces just didn't jibe? Some things were never meant to be brought together."
Takuma rubbed his chin. "That is a most illuminating way of looking at it."
"You seem to know an awful lot about this painting. Are you an artist, or a collector?"
"Neither. I have just been looking for this particular piece for a long time."
King smirked. "I'm sure that this is just a copy. My old boss was too cheap to spring for the original."
"Still, I have a feeling that this painting has something that the original lacks," Takuma persisted.
"Thank you for the art lesson. I don't think I'll ever look at this piece the same way again." Being too busy to linger, King rose from her chair, and she bowed in proper Japanese fashion. "I'll pass along your compliments to the chef."
Takuma stood as the lady left the table. "Thank you for entertaining the curiosity of an old man."
King regarded the polite Takuma one last time, and she smiled. "Older yes, but not old."
A/N: Appearances to the contrary, I have not abandoned this story... too many plot bunnies, too little time.