The Colour Purple Chapter 3: YUME, a king of fighters fanfic

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

Even at gunpoint, we are FREE to make our own decisions. No one can forcefully take away your honour; only you can sell it because of fear. As long as you make a choice out of your own free will, and not for another's wishes, then you can have no regrets.

To make another happy in this world is such a wonderful feeling, but life is too short for you to sacrifice your honour for what another wants you to become.

Live for today and the future! Never linger in the past, but do not forget its lessons. You never have to justify the suffering of the yesterday by sacrificing your happiness tomorrow.

(Original philo based from Mr. Troy Kloss) -05.24.04

Chapter 3: Yume

Approximately 3 blocks from Joe's Diner, away from that nostalgic old American feel, was a construction site, and it was nothing like the old easy going neighbourhood- there was the thunder of machinery and hollering construction workers. The scorching heat beat down on these guys harshly; sweat covered bodies fighting against fatigue, just to get along in life. It was a simple life for these men and women.

Probably kept on their toes by the hardships of this blue-collar lifestyle, but away from the troubles of a fake, rich complicated life. They lived in their own world, and functioned as a family, unlike businessmen who would have 'business friends'- it was a dog eat dog world up there, but to these guys, they were all brothers, suffering from the same pain and pleasure. Suffering down below.

A stout, bearded man came over and did his rounds yelling "Hey guys, It's lunchtime, drop all that shit and get some din 'kay!"... He has no name to his businessmen superiors, but to his men, he was called Dad... He was the closest they could get to a father figure at work - their outstretched palms would get no concern from the big-shots, but Dad... well, 'Boss' sometimes, would be there to stick up for them. Dad would get sincere, warm smiles day to day, and he, no matter how fatigued or stresses by his own bosses, would always have time to pat his men on the back and comfort them.

The sound of the clanking and roaring gears would stop as he walked by, except for one certain individual who Dad had to personally drag out of work. The thundering jackhammer would just go on and on relentlessly, deaf to Dad's calls. Dad came over to him, a sweat-drenched workaholic wearing the same white tank top over his shredded jeans day after day.

"Hey kid, your body can't go on this way if you don't get some grub." Dad smiled.

The muscled man, finally gave in and turned the hammer off. He set it on the ground carefully and reached for his towel and ran it through his drenched face and blonde hair.

"Yeah, thanks Dad..." he said.

"You know," Dad asked as he usually did to this man, "I can't understand why you still work this fucked up job... I mean, you're brother is up there... he practically OWNS this company, and still you work here and get your hands dirty... I just don't get it."

…

[The worst is over now and we can breathe again]

[I wanna hold you high, you steal my pain away]

[There's so much left to learn, and no one left to fight]

[I wanna hold you high and steal your pain]

-Broken (Seether Feat & Amy lee)

…

"Well, like I always tell you guys... The rich life isn't for me. I'm not like my brother. I prefer a more simple life."

"But what does your brother say about this?"

"Well, my brother and I don't get along very well... we do things very differently, and besides we've been in rivalry since we were very young..."

(I like the way you laugh)

"We lost our father at a very young age and had to live our lives our way. He went his way and I went mine... Besides, I don't want to owe him anything."

(He wondered why he was telling this man all of this... So suddenly; but, it felt good hat someone would listen to his long winded talk.)

"Your father was killed right?" Dad asked.

"Yeah... It hit us pretty hard back then... I was so crushed that I just ran away from it all. I'm sure my brother was filled with the same anger, but he had more ambition than I did. He did better in school and put up this company. He thinks that one day he can buy away his sadness or maybe buy his revenge. I guess he was the smarter of us both... You can't survive on dreams or desire alone in this world alone can you?"

(You can't survive on dreams or desire alone in this world alone can you?)

"Hey, don't talk that shit with me, kid... Sure we might not be happy with our simple lives here, and yeah, I want to do some stuff with money too, but..."

(I just wanted someone to listen... that's all, just listen to me. All men want someone to listen. Even if they know they don't' mean it.)

There was a moment of pause and the blue-jeaned man continued to wipe the glittering sweat from his muscular arms and under his shirt.

"Dad," the golden haired man exclaimed, "People can't survive on dreams and love alone you know... Sure It's good stuff, but you need bread too right?"

"Hmmf!" Dad grunted, "You're just a wishy-washy drifter, kid... You haven't seen the other side of the fence. Up there it's a dog eat dog world. There 'aint no such thing as brotherhood, or love up there - only money - and power... That's what makes life worth living up there! And once you start, it's like a drug you can't have enough of it. Sometimes you have so much greed that you forget your dreams and what you wanted in the first place. Corrupted by power, and lust... the simple things don't matter anymore."

(What?)

"I'm just a simple kid, Dad."

"Just remember, kid, down here were closer to the earth, and far away from the clouds... and the people close to the earth are more in touch with their dreams and hopes... The rich have no dreams like we do."

"Sometimes I wonder what my dream is... I keep on fighting... I fight all the time that after the fight, I don't know what's left for me... there is only emptiness and longing. I've been in the revenge business for so long that I don't know what to do afterwards."

"You worry too much kid. You should eat your lunch and take this shit one day at a time."

"You said that money and power are like drugs, but what about hate and longing? Dreams... don't they destroy you too?"

"Only if you let 'em, kid... Just remember, down here in this hell-hole of a world, we simple folk only have our dreams, and the moment those dreams are turned into money and power, then it's all over! I've been up there kid, and I asked myself what I was doin'... sleepin' with bitches 'vry night and drinkin' my youth away. I felt so good...

(felt so good)

so strong, but it all came tumbling down in a snap of some god's fingers. I lost my dreams, both up there and down here, but I realized, yeah, the world is full of dreamers like us who seem so pathetic and selfish, but if you let your dreams go like I did once, what have you left?"

The jeaned man patted Dad on the back and just smiled.

"Hey, Dad" he said, "Take it easy okay, I'm not that lost yet."

"You just remember that I'm doing this because I care about all of you'se... You guys are the closest I have to a family."

The jeaned character pulled out a red cap from his back pocket and put it over his eyes as he grabbed a submarine sandwich from his crimson duffel bag.

"Hey!" Dad yelled out as his 'son' walked away, "I forgot why I came to you... There's that kid.. waassis name, the guy with the blue jeans and the headband... He's been hanging around like always at the fence waitin to eat lunch with you."

"Oh... Tell him I have to take a shower and I'll meet him at the Pier okay?"

"Hey, Terry Bogard!" Dad yelled again, "You've got a cute ass, you know that!"

Terry just laughed out loud and brushed his behind with his hat.

"Dad, you should get a wife!"

"Nawww... she left me long time ago!"

"And I might skip some days off work 'kay!?"

"Sure! Terry," Dad smiled, "You work too fucking hard anyway, by the way, what do you have to do?"

"Uh, there's this thing coming up... Got to vent out some frustration."

Terry reached for an envelope that was in his hand and threw the crumpled mess behind him... It was read by the wind, the sand and those who cared about the ambitions and pains of these insignificant folk... and it said: "Master Terry Bogard is cordially invited to participate in the annual King of Fighters tournament of this year 1993..."

…

[If I can change at least ONE person's life in this world then my life would be worth it.]

…