The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95
Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK
Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995
pointblankassassin . com
This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)
"Which Character are you?"
Note to self: Legacy chapter numbering (32- - -), does not match. [Original chapter written 2013]
It was a lazy Friday afternoon, and all time seemed to pass much too slowly…
Then, …one day, I just wanted to END it all.
Tell me… "Which [character] are [you]?"
Back in 1995 – it was a day, much like any other – and during that time, a young boy locked himself in a cold dark room. All alone and without peer, he had never before seen 'snow' fall down onto the Earth. In a different place, and a different time, he remembered his father's words. "The first time I saw [it], when I went to that far away place, that same place where you are now, I thought that the sky was FALLING."
As much as I tried to remember. It was almost 20 years ago - what was going through my mind when it happened... I knew though, that I laughed at senseless adults, when they said "I wish I could turn back time…" Because I was just so very sick of living in the present - and I simply never understood.
I should have… I could have. If only I could impart to you the mistakes that I learned the last 20 years so you wouldn't have to experience those pains…
I laughed at the senseless adults – for I now understand, what it means when THEY say that 'youth is wasted on the young'. It's okay; the only way for you to learn is to experience this tragedy yourself. When you look up from your pit of despair, you'll see – you'll know… that we are one and the same.
-09.04.15 (the snow)
"Your guests are waiting, Mr. Bernstein," Rugal's blonde haired assistant crossed her forearm across her waist and bowed. "The KING of fighters are waiting for you…"
"Tell me," Rugal uttered with a deadpan stare painted across his face - within that dark room – a dark room that he remembered from long ago. "Will we become heroes?"
…or will we be remembered as [villains]?
"Sir?" she replied almost unconsciously, not truly understanding…
"There is one ultimate truth," Rugal began to say. "That all evil men, were once…" he stopped and massaged the creases that had grown old and sour between his eyebrows. "No… we will make yesterday… and TODAY.. ONE… and…"
Chapter 1: Hajimete (rev1)
It was a lazy Friday afternoon, and all time seemed to pass much too slowly. The world was much too peaceful and at times you could even find amusement as you watched the trees sway in the wind, or as leaves rush across the dusty road.
It was a simple life these people lived... Once in a while they would call up old friends and chat about the weather, or even remember happy days - when everything was so much simpler.
It was true - no one was really satisfied with the mundane lives they lived, everyone thirsted for change, for some colour in their dreary lives. They want an adventure, or even a chance to make their mark in the world. Beyond the endless paperwork, the rush jobs, or even the simple chores. "I just want a change! I just want to make a difference in the world! I just want to feel needed! Feel that I'm worth something." Inside their timid exteriors dwelled a desire to become someone else, someone new... Maybe each one of us wants to live in our own world... A place free from the mundane rituals of the real world, where one can play by their own rules, where [anyone]… can be the greatest.
…
In the middle of a vast plot of land, surrounded by seemingly endless forest stood a fortress, no, a palace, protected by layers of high reaching walls and barricades; and only the drifting cherry blossoms could so much as step inside this magnificent complex. A maroon haired figure stood slumped next to a pond, waiting, contemplating... Between his dark crimson locks you could see glints of hate shining within his eyes. He had his back in a forward arc, each vertabrae curled in an impossible angle, almost petrified; His arms would dance ever so slowly, weaving one over the other so smoothly and swiftly that you could hear the sweet whistle of the wind resonate throughout the stone garden.
Over and under the pair would dance, and leading would be long dexterous fingers that would move independently from each digit. He was pacing through ritual exercise, going slowly, then fast all the while twisting his body like that of a wave. His palms would hit high, then low, twisting and curling around an invisible entity.
A female voice suddenly boke the silence saying, "Young master, your father would like to speak to you... about the tournament..." she said in a slow cadence.
"SHUT UP!" He yelled, not even slowing his rhythm.
The kimono clad servant only knelt a few meters from him and bowed lowly.
"Your father said it was urgent he speak to you before he leaves for Paris."
He only flinched in disgust and cocked his arms back slowly. He closed his eyes and went into steady rhythmic breathing, and to the servant's amazement, his hands slowly flickered in a light spark, and burst into purple flames. His eyes darted open, looking straight at the concrete wall roughly fifteen meters in front of him. In a twinkling, his knees tensed, the mud beneath his feet gave way and exploded towards all directions as he lunged fearlessly towards the masonry wall.
His right palm drove itself wrist deep first, slapping the stone, leaving long cracks over his palm mark, again and again he would wail, claw and punch in a dizzying frenzy, occasionally leaving purple embers in the cracks, and staining the wall with his own warm blood. Like a savage animal, he would relentlessly flail and maul his enemy without care to his own self infliucted injuries.
After a few moments, he pulled both arms back in a snap, revealing to the servant, the terrifying amount of damage inflicted on the concrete. What happened next was blindingly quick as well - the young master let out a scream so inhuman, it sounded more like a wild animal. He curled his hands into fists and the tense veins bulged from his temples... The flames in his fists grew brighter and danced frantically like a hungry beast. The purple explosion launched backwards with such great pressure that the young master could imagine as if his internal organs hurtled back, slamming against a hard wall inside the back of his body. Dust flew into the servant girl's eyes, making her hands move on their own to cover her face; wind seemed to come from all directions encircling the young master, making the grass skip left and right, and the cherry blossoms encircled him. A scream ran through the air...
…then silence made us all deaf, as the world turned round and round the boy's outstretched body.
I . HURT . MYSELF . AGAIN . TODAY .
…oh how far we have come – then…
"NAKE, soshite!" CRY! The young master howled.
Four fingers from his left hand dug deep into the purple flames that engulfed the concrete wall, reduced it to soft magma, and in due motion his right hand dug its fingertips into the hard surface too. Soshite..
…SHI-NE.
Just DIE.
Both palms clawed deep and the wall exploded into rupturing, explosive purple flames. The servant girl fell back in fright, and looked in amazement at the pile of rubble which was once part of the section of courtyard wall.
The young master's snarling face twisted grotesquely over the back of his shoulder, and with an evil visage toddled towards the girl. He crouched down, and held her chin firmly with his blood soaked fingers.
Are you afraid of me?
"What does he want?" the young master questioned her. The young master's eyes tightened into small slits as he grinned at the girl. When he pulled her chin towards his face she couldn't help but turn away. In response, he grasped the collar of her kimono with both hands and tugged her effortlessly upwards, forcing both of their eyes meet.
Do you love me?
The slave girl put her hands up and in between then. Her body was so small and weak se could hardly do anything even when she frantically tried to to push herself back from his body that seemed to want to devour her alive as she was pulled closer. With the ferocity of a wild beast, he reeled her in so desperate for an answer, but it was futile for the only thing she could do was squirm helplessly and look away not daring to look him in the eye. Even when she tried her best to regain composure and kept reminding herself to not offend her master, all she could think was to pull herself from the dark quagmire that was about to engulf her as if she was sinking into a disgusting swamp.
The young master shook her again and when she refused to answer, he wrapped both her ams around the girl's shoulders and stabbed his fingers through the cloth and with one tug sideways began to shred the back of her kimono with hardly any effort. The servant only tucked her head down, pulled back with all her might and with her arms crossed in front of her, tried to keep herself covered.
Or yes, do you… Do you hate me?
A sharp sensation of fear, a slight taste of disgust, a shot of panic, the miasma of those feelings curled together when she crossed her arms and put her hands over her shoulders almost instinctively as she pushed her body away from the beast.
"Please… forgive me for bothering you, young master.", she apologized pathetically, as she handed an envelope to her master clumsily as she tried to compose herself at the same time. "Your… your father asked me to give this to you..."
The young master examined the envelope he now had in his hand... It was pearl white with gold trimmings on the side, and it was sealed with blood red wax... imprinted with an initial "R". He took his eyes away from the letter for a moment, and looked over at the servant girl who was still kneeling but trying her best to cover her half naked body with her shredded kimono. The young master gripped by her shoulders and hoisted her up. The girl stood calm with her eyes closed...
She had immediately recovered from the last few moments and now looked so unafraid the young master thought to himself, but he could feel that she was shaking all over.
"Why? Why do you do this!?" The young master shouted at her.
He put his cheek next to hers and licked his own blood that stained her cheeks. Then slowly he slid his hands down her shoulder and held her wrists. The servant girl refused to move. He continued to run his hand slowly down her thigh and wrapped his other arm around her back, teasing her, mocking her, forcing her in order to solicit a response.
The envelope burst into purple flames behind the girl's back, leaving only blue ashes and a letter in the young master's hand... with his cheek still on hers, his eyes rolled left and right, reading... His other hand went between her torn garments, but she still didn't move, and he could feel her heart race quicker with every passing moment. His fingers crawled over her chest, down between her legs, and found its way to her shoulders once again. He fixed his hand over her shoulders and stretched his arms full, looking over at the still unmoving girl. The young master's face slowly became calm, and his eyebrows relaxed as his eyes widened, almost out of pity at the tear streaks on the maiden's face.
"Why do you allow my father to do this to you?" Why don't get angry when I treat you like this? He said ever so non-chalant. "Do you enjoy this?"
Your eyes betray you. That is all…
What has he against you? Is he holding someone you love, is he blackmailing you? Look at me face to face... Talk to me... I am not like him... Consider me a human - talk to me like another person, damn you! I've seen you day by day, succumbing to my father's earthly desires. Don't you have any self respect at all...?!
All those thoughts spiraled, curled into frustrating voiceless knots – however, there was no answer.
The young master's hand tensed and shook the girl's shoulder, every fiber of his being begging for an answer. All he wanted was to be able to talk to anyone like a human being. Living all of his life in isolation, within their family's palace like complex.
He always got what he wanted, pleasure, pain, desires, but all he wanted was to be able to talk to someone like a person- the way friends would laugh and play together as he saw on the television, despite it, all he had were mindless servants, and each had their own reasons for being there... sometimes it was for the money, blackmail, or even because their entire family was destroyed by his power-hungry father. This young master's father held silent power which rivaled even those faceles figureheads in the government, but unlike those corrupted fools seated in power, his father was free from the rules. He could rape, steal, kill, and even control the lives of any human being, much like a god.
The young master could sometimes pick out individuals in his large brothel of servants, special individuals... priests, soldiers, even the sons and daughters of other Yakuza families that his father destroyed with a wink of an eye, but this girl seemed different, and he couldn't understand her. She didn't seem like she hated the inhuman acts his father was doing to her, and according to the other servants, she wasn't kept by force...
As if She were a servant because of her own free will.
"Is it loyalty then? Did my father save you from another Family?
Did he adopt you? Save you from a more horrendous evil? Is this why you still endure the hell he gives you? Loyalty? You must think so highly of him, don't you? You see him as the kindest individual in the world... you, a complete stranger who he offered a new life to."
The young master, at his wits end just pushed her gently aside, but the servant girl said nothing; She simply crossed her arms over her chest and walked towards her young master, leaned close and put her forehead on his own firm chest in utter defeat, finding solace in the momentary silent peace when just moments ago a raging monster was about to break free once again. He took off his black jacket, put it over her tattered clothes, and turned away to leave.
{Today will not be the day... I swear; will today be the day?}
…
{I won't end up like him! Damn you father!}
All my life I've seen so many definitions of power... Wealth, the ability to kill, inhuman strength, but never have I witnessed power greater than yours... the ability to toy with people's lives. TOY WITH OUR LIVES!
{One day I will destroy you... After 21 years of waiting, I will be able to step out of this complex to fulfill your ambitions... The time has come for me to strut my role on stage, and face my destiny.}
A piece of paper floated down from behind him, and spontaneously burst into purple fire... "This is an invitation made, to those worthy to step into the hallowed walls of the King of Fighters Tournament... Announcing the 1995 King of Fighters tournament. The event will be conducted as the previous ones, and we welcome both new and old teams, however, we will implement a new rule this coming year... Break a spine, R...
His Excellency will be expecting the young master Iori Yagami... Please make
plans for the upcoming year... dated May 27, 1993...
{two years... two years of freedom} Iori thought to himself...
The wind howled softly, and Iori brushed his hair to the side... in a picture perfect scene – but he simply did not give a damn.
"When I return, I will be more powerful than you can ever imagine... So, I have two years to explore the outside world..." I hate you so much.
She. She didn't know what else to do but relax her arms, torn and conflicted se wrapped them over Iori Yagami's back and pulled her own body close to his. The servant girl grabbed two handfulls of her master's jacket and not knowling what else to do, wanted to pull him in - let her body melt and sink into his. We wanted to forget everything, we wanted to be able to see all the pain, all the pleasure, and all the lazy afternoons that we took for granted again and again like they looped in an endless sequence.
Will we ever be free?
A feeling of disgust, she could never escape from, she simply hid her fear and confusion by pulling her body close to her young master's; She pinched the hem of her master's jacket with her right hand but eventually he would leave and she would have to let go… and in so doing, made the howling voices stop.
…
Iori grinned and slung his leather duffel bag over his shoulder and walked out the towering first gates that marked the opening of Yagami palace; The creaking gates that took four ninja guards to move opened - hid a legacy of deceit pain, suffering, and selfish dreams, and now this young man would leave it all behind to live his life, a life he hopes to be his own, but inevitably, it would be one his father had laid out for him...
…his servant girl crossed one arm over the other and after so many years of watching patiently, burned the image of his back on her mind and took a deep breath. In a place.
Until you understand the true meaning of it all – a truth that can only be purchased by the slow wails of time - you are simply wandering in a dark pool of ignorance. However, one day, just like that little girl – you will one day understand, that your LOVE and your HATRED go hand in hand.
She pinched the hem of her master's jacket with her right hand but eventually he would leave and she would have to let go… and in so doing, made the voices stop.
I love you – but at the same time – I hate you. This is the meaning that hid behind this Colour of Purple.