Chase the Moon; Gōten Origin:

The sun starts to kiss the horizon, letting day bleed into night. As groups of people - tourists and natives alike - slowly drained from the flea market stalls and busy bazaar areas, none noticed the small, cloaked figure sliding down the top of a slanted roof, nursing raw-scraped palms and muttering over damaged gloves.

At last, though, the sea of people dispersed enough for the thief to slide down from their perch, using their small size to mingle amongst the group of men and women, who quickly left the area anyway. Even now, far dingier and smaller than other places on the island, was no place for the thief. There were fewer police around, sure - fewer people in general and far less valuables to defend - but there were still some. Instead of lingering, the thief snuck quietly through back allies and around dilapidated buildings, all slowly tilting downwards as they moved closer to the sea level.

This leg of the journey usually took the longest, and by the time the thief had arrived at the forest lining the shoreline, things had all but gone dark. There were no large lights like there were in the other areas of Hawaii. The thief moved almost entirely using the moonlight. The lights, where they were, were dim and red, old emergency lights scavenged from old boats or tiny systems that only illuminated tiny islands at night.

The thief paused in their trek, making sure that none of the goods had been lost and looked out into the flora. This was the side of Hawaii that tourists didn't know existed - probably not, anyway. The side that the Hawaiian government chose to ignore in favor of their stronger, more attractive areas. Probably for the best. As far as the thief knew, this place didn't really exist in any way that mattered. Just some small, tucked away section of Wailuku. It was small, and mostly inhabited forests that stretched further than people seemed to realize and was at the top of the local police lists as a hotbed for criminals and thieves like themself; a breeding ground for bad people and villains. It was a place of the discarded, those who had encountered unfortunate circumstances and driven away from the cities due to their history; those who were not welcomed anywhere else because they committed the crime of wanting to survive.

It didn't have a name, as far as the thief knew, but it was home. Home sweet home.

They moved faster than their tiny legs had carried them all day; there were no police here, but that didn't mean they were safe. Always in such places, animals ran wild and gangs of the desperate preyed on the weak and vulnerable. The only solution, as the thief learned early on, was to be neither.

As they strode through the woods in a cloak - that was really more of an old blanket - that hid every inch of skin, the thief was lucky. There were no laws here but the closest thing may have been something along the lines of "Leave people alone who don't want to be bothered." It was a good law, for a few reasons. There were definite notable benefits to life and peace of mind by minding your own business here, and that usually suited the thief just fine. Usually, they were completely fine with being left alone. However, on those rare occasions, something greater nagged at them. Something that forced action when a gang had cornered their prey and prepared to drain them of their food and resources. It didn't always end well - the small scars around their body said as much - but it was always something that couldn't be helped.

At last, the thief came to their destination, a small wooden shack near the outer bands of the forest and nearest to the beach. Taking a running start despite the groaning and tired muscles, the thief took to the trees, moving from branch to branch, years of practice ensuring that they never slipped and that none of the goods were lost. Soon, the thief disappeared into the hut, vanishing from the world.

"Gouten," He hears as soon as he gets inside. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, dad," the 7-year-old says, pulling back the hood to reveal his tan skin, messy, dark hair and bright golden eyes. "It's me." With a sigh, the boy discards the cloak completely and lets his haul drop to the floor. It's a mess of canned food, some water bottles and other such items, but the main thing was the somewhat flattened, now cooled bread and the three small fish.

"What a day, huh?" His father jokes as Gouten yawns and rubs his eyes in exhaustion. "Take a nap, son. You've earned it."

The boy tiredly nods and begins to walk away towards his small cot in the corner of the room. "Where's mom?" He manages, sounding sleepier by the minute.

"She went out to get some extra things for dinner," His father explains easily, "She'll be back in before you know it."

"Okay."

"Take a rest, Gouten," His dad urges, "We'll be here when you wake up."

"Liar," Gouten thinks to himself bitterly.

He's currently lying on the floor in a small puddle of his own sweat behind the Maui Children's Home. Across from him, his opponent - a red and black heavy bag hanging from a banyan tree - remains undefeated. It's dented and torn in some places due to his ruthless aggression, but it's still hanging, no matter how hard he hits. No matter how hard he swings, no many how many times he strikes, the bag remains. Floating a half meter from the ground. Mocking him. He stares at it; frustrated, angry, and completely unaware of the tears flowing down his face. The longer he stares, the angrier he gets until his tears blur his vision. Before him is no longer a bag, it's a man. It's a man with ghostly white eyes, a wide, evil smile and the ʻōhiʻa lehua plants in his peripheral vision resembled blood more by the passing second.

He shouts in a rage and runs at the man, pulling his arm back and punching as hard as he could.

The bag sways on impact and the visage of the man fades away, but the tears and memories don't go anywhere. The echoes of screams and laughter pound against his skull as he drops to his knees; pain in his arm and fist going ignored.

Someone approaches him and wraps in him a warm embrace, sweet nothings drowning out the terrible laughter. He doesn't know how long they were there, nor even really who grabbed him - because the tears have blurred his vision - but he doesn't care. They're warm and something about them is making him calm down. It's nice, and he wishes it could last longer, but his body is exhausted, and darkness claims him before he can say anything.

"It's that new boy again, Miss Felicia," an aged, gentle voice says as soon as Felicia - the orphanage's guardian - walks into the main nursing room. She's a woman of average height, fair skin and long, flowing blue hair. Atop her head, a small headband with white cat ears that she uses to help placate the children. "He's only been here two weeks," the old nurse continues, shaking her head as she thinks of the boy's condition, "and yet, he's already been sent to me twice. I take it he's not in the best place right now?"

"No," Felicia confirms sadly, "He isn't."

"I wrapped his hands and wrists already and he didn't even flinch," Felicia makes a face at that comment, "it's like he didn't even realize what was happening. What happened to that child?"

"Have you, er, heard of that massive attack?"

"Shadaloo's attack? I have. It shook up the nation, after all."

"It did... He was a victim there. A survivor so I -"

"You understand why he's so angry," the nurse finishes for Felicia, offering her a knowing look and a sagely nod. "His hands were pretty banged up just now. He's still young, Felicia, but I'd watch him in case he develops any... unwanted habits."

"I know," the guardian sighs, "I'm giving him time to adjust. He's just a kid, Edna."

"He doesn't talk to other kids," Edna shoots back. "He mostly stays to himself. I've seen other kids try to talk and he just doesn't bother."

"The boy has lost everything," Felicia stresses, running her nail across her scalp. "You can't expect him to just be -"

There's a knock on the door that draws both women's attention.

"Come in."

It's the same topic of their conversation - Gouten - meanders in, winces as his bandaged hands struggle with the doorknob.

"Oh, Gouten," Felicia says pleasantly and with a small smile. "Did you forget something?"

"No," the kid says softly, "Well, kinda..."

Felicia and Edna share a look. The boy didn't have anything, really, so no physical possession of his should be around, for as sad a thought as that was.

"What is it?"

"Thank you, Miss Edna."

"Hm?"

"For my hands," he says awkwardly, playing with the tips of his fingers, "I mean - I forgot to say it sooner, so, uh, thanks."

"You're welcome. Be sure to take it easier in the future. Training is fine, but going too hard can usually be more of a detriment than a benefit."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Is that it?"

Gouten nods and the simple act reminds both women of just how young he is. Growing up in that area must've been hard, but yet, here he stands. He wouldn't look out of place on any playground surrounded by other kids, but the chances of him ever experiencing such a thing felt slim to none. Gouten walks out of the room, and Felicia sighs.

"Hopefully things will get better. I just hope he can get adopted."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Get adopted?"

"Want to be adopted," Edna corrects.

Felicia makes a face, having not considered that. Her head turns towards the door and blue eyes fill with concern and thought. "Then we'll do right by him. Someone has to, at least."

From that day forward, most kids tended to avoid Gouten. Miss Felicia made it a point that the older kids and younger kids mesh for at least an hour a day to get to know each other and to help with social skills, but none seemed to be interested in talking to him. They weren't overt about it, but he was always last to be picked in any group activity despite being one of, if not the most physically athletic kid there. They didn't invite him to do anything, nor even really pay him much attention at all. The only person who really paid him any heed at all was Miss Felicia, but for the most part, Gouten remained largely alone, not that he minded much.

From his position - usually simply watching others play from afar while he trains on the punching bag - he spent a lot of time observing the other people here. Most of the kids were like him; reserved, quiet, and kept to themselves. A few stood out as beacons in the dark, but they were adopted sooner rather than later. There were some who came in that only managed to last a week before being taken in by a new family, and there were some - like him - who were there for longer periods.

Time flew since that day, far too soon almost, and he went from homeschool, to elementary school and finally, to high school. Most of the friendlier people he'd met in the orphanage had been adopted by now, leaving him as the oldest and technically in charge of all of the youngins that had come in over the years. Things weren't always good, however. There were times when people would bother him or pick on someone weaker than them in school and Gouten would step in. Before long, he'd developed something of a bad reputation.

"What happened this time?" Miss Felicia says disapprovingly as she looks down at Gouten. This was far from the first time she'd been called down to the school to meet with the principal - and she knows it won't be the last - but today seemed a bit different. Gouten, for once, actually looked a bit... upset. His wrists and hands are wrapped in the same white bandages she knew he always carried around, and there were clear, bright, cherry red stains across the knuckles.

"He got into a fight with some senior years," The principal drones, repetition of the phrase bleeding into their tone. "He broke three noses and sent at least one of them home for the rest of the day with a concussion."

"Oh, Gouten..." Felicia sighs.

The teen looks up at his guardian with impassioned eyes. "It's not my fault this time," Gouten defends. "They were harassing a freshman and didn't stop even when the girl started crying."

"Why didn't you report it? Must it always be violence with you?" The principal cuts in sharply, and with a glare to match.

"No point," Gouten scoffs. "You wouldn't have done anything, anyway. When have you ever done anything but punish me for stopping these people?"

The principal rolls their eyes, "Are you implying that all of the times you've been in my office were not your fault?" It's a clear question; a bait to change the subject while avoiding an answer.

"No," Gouten says, "I'm saying I didn't report it because you wouldn't have done anything. Serves them right, anyway."

"Boy, I know you're only sixteen, but act like an adult. This is the third time you're in my office this month."

Gouten makes a face as though he'd just taken a bite of something sour, but doesn't say anything.

"Miss, you're aware of what this means, don't you? A week suspension at a minimum."

Felicia runs a hand through her blue hair and nods. Some gray hair is visible as she does so. "Of course."

Graduating high school and doing a few odd jobs around Maui did the boy well, in hindsight, but now as a young man in his early twenties, Gouten had finally started to put his more... aggressive tendencies behind him.

Or so Felicia had thought.

It was early morning when a knock came to her door at the orphanage. One of the kids - a young girl named Maki - rushed to her office with a message.

"Miss Felicia, some guys are here! They look... scary and say they're looking for Gouten."

Felicia is on guard immediately and shoos the girl away, telling her to relay several messages to the other children just in case things go south. Gouten had a bad reputation, yes, but she knew him better than this. He wouldn't willingly do anything to endanger the orphanage.

She shuffles from the back rooms and to the door and sees three men. Two of which are dressed in what appear to be military fatigues while the one in front is pale with blue eyes and blond hair. He's wearing a blue military camouflage vest with an unzipped, sleeveless yellow hoodie underneath, matching blue camouflage pants and brown combat boots. Felicia had been no stranger to strong people - Gouten himself was said to be built like a warrior - but this man had some of the largest forearms she'd ever seen.

"What's up?" The man says casually and with a dashing smile. "The name's Luke. We're looking for a guy called Gouten, heard he's the top dog around these parts!"

"Um... I'm sorry?"

"Oh! Where are my manners? We're just touring the place looking for some strong fighters and we got wind from the mainland that a real midboss lurks around here. Was hoping to get a few fights in before we leave back to the States." Luke explains, looking progressively more excited with each word. He's jovial and energetic in ways that Felicia had seen from highschool jocks, which was an... interesting flag.

"You want to fight Gouten...?"

"Yeah! Can you call him for me?" He says, looking overhead.

"Uh, well, he doesn't live here anymore, but he should be wrapping up some community service right about now. Can you, er, give him about twenty minutes?"

"Sure!"

When Gouten received a call from a somewhat panicked Miss Felicia about strange military men looking for him, he had no idea what to think. He didn't do anything that would warrant police intervention - that the police would know about, anyway - let alone military personnel. She described them as somewhat goofy and arrogant, which did nothing to ease his nerves. He dashed to the orphanage as soon as he could, but nothing could've prepared him for what he saw when he got there. He's not exactly dressed for combat, since he's wearing a black shirt and jeans with normal sneakers but he'll have to make due.

There were three military men, yes, but one of which was simply playing around with some of the kids, another kept up idle, seemingly having a light conversation with Miss Felicia while the last one stood a bit off to the side with his phone tilted sideways. He was playing a game, probably, if the looks on his and the surrounding children's faces were anything to go by.

"Ah, shoot!" He suddenly exclaims, "I lost!" Then he sees Gouten and a large smile appears on his face. "Dude, you just look like a Gouten. Strong and ready!"

"...what?"

"You and I are gonna fight, of course!"

Gouten blinked once. Then twice. Then a third time when the scene and man didn't change before him. "...right. Who're you?"

"I'm Luke," the man proudly proclaims, "Don't mind the get up. I'm just a coach these days for Buckler Security Services. We've heard some stories about some strong warrior that lives on this island and we figured we'd give him a check," Luke gives him a once over. "And I must say dude, you do look strong. So how about it, pretty boy? Care to give a few rounds?"

Gouten raises a brow at that. Sure, over the years of intense training he'd developed a strong, well-built body to match and had hit a growth spurt, but his size has never once stopped people from fighting him before. "...not here," Gouten says after some thought. "I don't want the kids to see this."

"Heh, 'fraid you'll lose?" Luke taunts jovially. Gouten's expression is blank.

"Kids don't need to see how I fight," the tanned man shrugs.

"Are you sure about this, Gouten?" Felicia suddenly calls out. "You don't have too. We can just -"

"It's fine," He cuts off. "This won't take long."

"Ohoho! Cheeky brat, aren't you? I can relate. But don't worry," he says somewhat ominously. An open hand goes up and puts his forearm on full display. It's vaguely intimidating, if Gouten is being honest, but seeing the man clench his fist and flex his muscle hard enough that all of his vascularity is forced to the forefront and his arm starts steaming, gives the young man a weird feeling he's never had before. "Fightin' me's the best kind of community service."

Gouten doesn't lead them far from the building, but he leads them in an area where he's sure they won't be found. It's remote and in an area that's hidden in the brush and flora. An opening on the edge of a small sandy stream with coconut trees, various other plum and berry trees and a small camping set up with a hammock. Luke whistles.

"Nice place you got here. Beach levels always look pretty good."

Gouten ignores him and starts to wrap his hands. These particular wraps have been well used and are starting to tear in some places, but have served him well. They used to go beyond his wrist and onto his forearm but don't anymore.

"Alan, you're up," Luke scoffs at the confused look he gets from Gouten. "What? Did you think a level one like you could just jump at the boss with no set up first?"

Gouten didn't quite get the reference, but he doesn't question it. The man, Alan, walks up to him first. He's smaller by every visible metric, and looks a bit... hesitant to participate, but Gouten doesn't waste time.

As soon as Luke says to fight, Gouten does. He's always been a heavy hitter, and it's put on full display here. Alan's stance and body language as a whole is loose and tense, and as such, Gouten makes quick work of him.

His punch is hysterically telegraphed and is dodged with little issue, and Gouten's counterpunch lands flush on Alan's recoils and swings his fist widely in a panic, hitting nothing but open air.

'Remember, ku'ialua.' He thinks to himself before landing two devastating strikes to Alan's ribs and chin, forcing the man to his back. He doesn't make the ten count.

"Man, you've got guts! Good fight!" Luke praises. "Dude, you look great out there!"

"...what?" Gouten couldn't help but to ask. This guy was... praising him? After he so cleanly defeated his friend? People normally fled or cursed his name after a fight, never heaped praise on him for hurting someone. What a strange man. "Never mind."

"Leon, you're up."

The man called Leon meets the same fate as his partner. Gouten is quick, and relentless and in less than five hits, Leon hits the ground like a sack of coconuts. Luke looks genuinely impressed.

"You don't even look tired," he notes. Gouten looks more unimpressed than anything. "Good, guys like you are hard to come by. I can see why you're the top dog around here." He's preparing for a fight, and if he's anything like these two, it'll be over quickly. But something tells Gouten that this will be much, much harder. He couldn't pinpoint the feeling, but nothing about Luke screamed 'easy'.

He was a master of stoicism, and hence, did not show his emotions on his face. He did, however, fail to notice the way his hands played with the wrappings around his wrists.

"Wraps, huh? I'm more of MMA gloves guy myself," Luke comments, grabbing his gloves from seemingly thin air, "Easier to put on these than -," he pauses, vaguely gesturing to Gouten in front of him.

"You talk a lot..." Gouten mutters, to himself more than anyone.

"I know." Luke says, not missing a beat. "Hyup! Let's get this started already!"

Despite his words, Luke makes no attempt to advance, but he does widen his stance and starts to bounce around on the balls of his feet. His guard is low - around his abdomen - and his form is pretty loose and full of openings.

Gouten already had a plan in mind, but hesitates. No one leaves themselves that open on purpose. So he decides to test the waters. He has no real stance of his own besides a poorly imitated Lua he learned from some of the older fighters, but it's enough to keep his opponent guessing. He slides his foot across the gravel and watches closely as the man's arms tense.

As if someone mentally told him to go, Gouten dashes forward to get within range. His punch is quick and strong, albeit a bit wild, but it's been enough to take down many people before, so he expects it to do the same now.

He was wrong.

Luke's forearms were not, apparently, just for show as he felt when his fist came into contact. It almost felt as though he were punching a wall. Luke grins at the surprised look on Gouten's face and uses his free hand to slam into the boy's exposed stomach. "PERFECT!" He shouts, as Gouten flies back. His back slams into a tree no less than 3 meters away and every ounce of air he thought he had in his lungs rapidly evacuated.

Luke wasn't done, however, as he immediately continued his assault. Gouten sees him rear back and makes a face. Surely there's no way he intends to hit him from this far, right?

He was wrong for the second time that day when Luke's arm started to steam again. The punch he throws at nothing initially made Gouten pause and wonder if the man was taunting him. That was until he saw it. "Sand Blast!" A massive shockwave bathed in an orange glow appeared from the point where his fist hit the open air. There was an audible boom and the shockwave traveled so fast, that Gouten's natural reflexes happened to be the only thing keeping him from taking the attack head on. The tree behind him wasn't as lucky as wood shattered into splinters and gave way into nothing.

"Hey, you dodged! Good for you!" Luke says with a smile.

Gouten looks at him and the tree with wide eyes before a small grin appears on his face. "Don't patronize me!" He growls, displaying canines that were just a bit too sharp.

"Hey! I wasn't -"

Luke doesn't get the chance to finish his claim as Gouten gets up and darts at him faster than he's prepared for. They had to be at least three or four meters apart from Luke's estimation, but it felt like he blinked and his opponent all but teleported to within arm's length. The punch that followed up felt heavier than the last by a decent margin, and was enough to wake him up. "Holy crap! Someone finally got into the groove, didn't they?!"

Gouten followed up his punch with a kick to the man's head. He watches, almost in slow motion, as Luke's arm goes up to block and changes direction at the last moment and lands a kick to the man's ribs.

Luke recoils and coughs, but still smiles. Gouten had hit him hard; he knew that. But Luke recovered far sooner than he expected and led to him eating a vicious uppercut as a counter-attack. "PERFECT!" Luke shouts again. The tanned man's golden eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head on impact and his body left the ground from the force of the blow.

Gouten's out of it and barely clinging to consciousness when he hears Luke open his big mouth again. "Rising upper!" Despite the height he got, Luke still manages to meet him in the skies, punching him in the chest from a single, mighty leap and then another time in the face as they both descended down. Gouten's hard fall turned into a quick plummet, slamming into the ground with each force to kick up a significant amount of dust and sand.

"Whoo! Booyah! You hit really hard, but I've got you beat!" Luke taunts and dances. He stops when his opponent groans. "Oh, you're not out cold? Dude, you rock!" The blonde overhears Gouten mutters something darkly in Hawaiian that he doesn't understand and laughs. "Don't worry, dude. We all lose sometimes!"

He extends his arm and open hand down at the man.

Gouten, still mostly out of it and bleeding from a few scrapes and bruises, only barely registers what's happening. He looks cautiously at the gesture, and at Luke's smiling face. There's no hint of... really anything but honest excitement and child-like enthusiasm. It sickens him, somewhat, since this man was stronger than anyone he'd fought to an absurd degree, but he wouldn't be a sore loser. He accepts the hand once he realizes Luke means him no ill will and allows himself to be helped to his feet.

"You're the first person to take two flash knuckles and walk it off! You're strong, bro!"

"Why are you like this?"

"Like what?"

Gouten groans in agony. "...nothing. Let's just - if we're done here, congrats. You won."

"Yeah, we're done," Luke confirms, "But before we go, I have a proposition for you," he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, laminated blue and yellow card. "Here, take this. We could use people like you."

'People like me?'

"You're a tough kid, but judging by that look on your face, you've got some things weighing you down," He says with far more confidence than Gouten felt was warranted. "I'll tell you, being unsatisfied in life sucks, but you gotta learn to take off. If you're interested, shoot me an email and apply. We'll help you find an answer to what it means to be strong. We'll help you find more strength!"

Luke talks more afterwards before gathering his men and leaving, waving goodbye with a smile and a wink. Gouten watches them go with little more than a nod of acknowledgement and rampant thoughts of the opportunity presented to him.

"I still can't believe you lost," Felicia says with a shake of her head while she dabs some ointment on Gouten's bruises. He winces from time to time while she does it, but his attention is elsewhere; on the business card in his hand that Luke gave him. "...still thinking about it?"

"Did you tell him anything about me?"

"Hmm?"

"He said he heard about me. Knows what it's like to be a 'bad news kid' and offered me a place to have a fresh start." Gouten says, looking thoughtful.

"What's the place?"

"Buckler Security, in Metro City. I -," he pauses and looks out of the open window. Hawaii was his home. He'd be the first to admit that his relationship with the land and people wasn't exactly the greatest, but it's all he knew. He spent his whole life here; living, trying to make due. Training and preparing himself to face him again. To leave it all behind... "I'm not sure."

"This might be what you need, Gouten," Felicia says soothingly. "You can't spend your whole life here brooding about the past."

"Easy for you to say," he mutters in return.

"I'm sure it is, but don't you want to see more? This could be the big break you need! Think about it, a new life. A new place where no one knows who you are. A fresh start and a chance to see the world. Isn't that what you always wanted?"

'No,' Gouten doesn't say. "I - I don't know. I'll think about it."

"I think you should..."

A week later, in the heart of Metro City's training center, Luke sits behind his desk after a long day of training. The people are coming along nicely and the new guy, Bosch, has caught his eye. He's determined and full of potential, if only a bit like him in the worst ways. It's something he's gonna keep track of. Everything else went relatively smoothly, if only a bit boring as they rehashed the importance of the basics. Nothing a bit of gaming can't handle.

He's pulled from his session by a sudden email popping up from an address he's never seen. He smiles. It's that guy, Gouten, from Hawaii.

"Heh, I was beginning to think you'd ignore my offer," Luke says to himself as he reads the enquiry. He hits accept before finishing the document. "Welcome aboard."

A/N: Welcome to Street Fighter. My World Tour fic using my OC as the Avatar. Hope you enjoy.