The Colour Purple

by y8irl.SniperBoy

Back in 1996 a boy was put in a small box; trapped alone in that tiny place, he could not but think of a meaning that drives the world. So there would be no excuses when he died. The Ultimate High, The Root of Evil, The Berserker Phenomenon, The Rival Complex, and, The [RIOT] of the blood. Which character are [you]? ...I can't let you go. Up until 20 years do pass.

10. Dear Friends,

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?"

Dear my friend,

Before I went away, I had been blind and forgotten to say 'thank you'. It's okay to fight the society, and be who you want to be. If you are angry then hurt me; if you are sad, then take my hand… Remind me of yesterday and follow me… Join me to tomorrow, before we die, we can conquer [ourselves], and in doing so, we conquer the [world].

In the end, I would rather be the [betrayed] than be the [betrayer].

Join me, let's stop the end of world.

-the ode to Johnny.1995

-08.28.04

Chapter 10: Dear Friends,

"I hurt myself today, to see if I can still feel; I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real... What have I become? My sweetest friend, everyone I know, goes away in the end. You can have it all; I will let you down, I will let you hurt...

-Nine Inch Nails

...

"You ask me why I am so cold? Why I don't believe in affection and love?" Iori said to Eiji in a sad, stern voice. "It is because I NEVER had any friends. Friends are only for the weak. In this life you have to care only for yourself... Noone else! Why direct your dreams upon someone else!?"

The clock rang threee bongs and a chime. It was 3:15. The wind blew in their eyes but they didn't even blink, and Iori turned around saving Miyuki from seeing his true self. Sparing her from seeing the hate in him. A child should never see a fight.

"BE STRONG, my father said, and with that he took all my friends away..." Iori picked up his leather folder and walked back towards home, leaving an unmoving Eiji and clueless Billy, with their backs to the sunset.

...

A six year old Iori looked out of his window like a dried up old crone, trapped within the protective walls of Yagami palace, in his dark unlit room he seeked his only refuge. The light switch was unworn and dusty, probably from years of neglect. It was a spacious room. Next to Iori's window was his grand futon, a desk and chair in the other end, and rows of closets and drawers. It was a silent evening, just after sunset, and he looked out to the acres and acres of open land outside the perimeters of Yagami Palace.

Yagami palace was far away from civilization, hidden away under the protection of nothingness, open lands, this nothingness, proved amble and effective security.

A dream security.

The silence was calming, it put a smile on his face, but just for a moment. Time had no meaning then. The dark peaceful room was a place where he could think. Deprived of his childhood, he only had himself.

When most children would play and laugh amongst friends and family, Iori sat by his window and thought. Why... The reasons behind his existence. Seeing no drive in life but to be strong, to become the best, to rule and conquer. Such were the idioms taught to him by his father. Those are the only reasons to live in the world.

He sat down on the floor with his back to the wall, and slowly let his eyes focus in the blackness. He reached for the pole that held his window open and it came down with a loud crash. Pitch black, alone. Children fear the dark, because it harbours the unknown, but Iori loved it, for he knew about the darkness, in it you can really see yourself. What you really are. In the most peaceful of nights you could hardly see anything, you could feel your surroundings. {Alone..., Iori realized, I am alone}. This is the reason for existence. In the dark peaceful room you gained knowledge about solidarity. It would be you against the whole world. He held his finger up and it produced a soft purple flame, a faint light which left Iori exhausted, but after a few seconds he would do it again, and again.

Five... Four... Three... he counted to himself slowly. Each one a mental note of what he once thought was a reason to continue on with his existence. It was a long list at first... To smile, to laugh, to learn from tutors, to run in the grass and feel security amongst his harem of servants who raised him. Mother... He extended all ten fingers and as the time went they started to extinguish one by one... My mother is dead, and with that one flame snuffed, I am not a child anymore... and another died. One by one... Two were left... I hate you...father... This left one purple demon which floated down to his palm.

"And then there is me..." Iori whispered to the emtiness who listened intently when noone else would. With that he snuffed the flame in his hands.

...

During the morning Iori would take his lessons form his tutor, Russ Walker, language, history, science, and by lunchtime he would sometimes ask his tutor to show him some television.

"But your father strictly said not to..." His tutor hypocritically replied, grinning between breaths.

With a snap of Iori's fingers, one of his young female servants came into the room. Here is the usual payment.

"As you wish Iori sama..." The servant girl said monotonously while bowing low.

Iori wondered what his tutor ever wanted with the young girls but he didn't care, it was his Yakuza blood probably, to satisfy the worldly desires of the people.

Commercials utterly fascinated Iori to no end, it was his only link to the outside world. It was just flashes of streaming unrelated information, surging his brain and looping over and over. Feeding his curious mind. Soon his father found out, and had Russ Walker killed. And without the black box, another flame flickered and died.

...

By the afternoon, Iori took a short stroll out in the vast meadow. He felt the breeze kiss his cheeks, and felt safe in the vast emptiness. He stretched his arms and let out a scream.

"Take me now. ROAR!" He bellowed.

"What's wrong with you?" came a voice from behind him.

Iori instinctively turned around and sent his hands up in guard. Behold there was a little girl just a little shorter than Iori. She had rosy cheeks and a little smile that stood out from her short yellow raincoat and hat. Occationally, children would take field trips to that part of Japan, but the children never dared to venture near Yagami Palace. 'It is a place where Demons and Ogres lived' warned their teachers. Bad people live there and you shouldn't go near it.

Iori always looked at the happy children running around from his window, but they never came, never saw him, as if he never existed. How jealous and painful he felt inside. He was like the darkness, which children were afraid of. Happy children never questioned their fear of the dark, or why they shouldn't go near Yagami palace. Iori and the darkness were the same.

"Do you want to play?" She asked.

"Play?" Iori said slowly, never having the opportunity to use the term before.

"Yeah, here... take this ball." she said smiling...

Iori held the sphere in his palms awkwardly. Rolling it from one hand to the other musing at what a useless object it must have been. It was hollow, made of paper, and could have been easily crushed by a babe.

"Throw it to me!" the little girl called from a distance of probably two meters away.

Iori smiled wickedly {How retarded this is... he thought.} Digging his feet to the ground, he threw it with all his might. Not wanting to look stupid by throwing a paper ball around, he made it look like it was a fight. He grit his teeth and threw, but to his surprise, the ball slowed down in mid air and floated to the girl.

"Nice!" She said, and returned the paper ball gently. It glided gracefully in the air, and fell into Iori's waiting hands.

Iori turned red and irritated. He mustered up all his anger and hate, not wanting to be showed off by another, he threw the ball with both hands cocked back as far back as it could go. This was to no avail... It seemed like the harder he threw it the more tired and slower it would fly through the air.

"Softly... Softly..." The girl teased. "Like this..." and she tossed it up in the air effortlessly. Iori caught the ball again, and snarled at his futile efforts, so he tossed it back like he was told, and it glided smoothly. It didn't jerk or lose path, or fell. It floated peacefully right to her hands. The little girl smiled and tossed it back. The game went on for ten minutes probably, each tossing the paper ball back and forth. Iori's face twisted with both shame and frustration, but he was still returning the ball, sometimes tossing it softly, others trying to send it like a rock to her face. The sun started to set and Iori realized that he had been playing for too long.

"I have to go home..." She said.

With that Iori breathed deep one last time and tossed the ball as softly and gently as he could. The paper ball flew in a perfect arc, landing to her waiting hands. For some reason that Iori couldn't understand, his chest didn't feel heavy anymore, and he felt warm despite the cold wind.

"See you tomorrow." She waved.

"Ano... Anata no namae wa? (uh... Your name?)" Iori stuttered.

"Miyuki... Miyuki..." she said. "Miyuki to moushimasu."

...

The Yagami servants gossiped amongst themselves as to how strange Iori-sama had been acting for the past few days, seemingly... cheerful, they muttered. Tutoring came and went for Iori, as well as practice, putting his best effort to get it done. He breezed through lectures, finished homework, and did away with the practice dummies he had for training. He looked at the large clock tower that was in the Yagami courtyard, what was once seemingly useless was now the pinnacle of Iori's life... Just a few more minutes and it would be four fifteen. Iori raced through the gate-keepers and ran as free and worryless as a bird. Never had Iori felt such desire in his life. What could this feeling be, he mused. He ran and ran as fast as he could and as always Miyuki was waiting for him by the old cherry blossom tree.

He hardly sat in his room anymore. He didn't want to become strong or fight. He got better with his 'trick', and one by one his fingers would light up.

It was a peculiar feeling to Iori, having someone other than his servants to talk to. He would occasionally get mad at Miyuki for disagreeing with him.

"No, I think pineapples are better than cantaloupes." Miyuki would say.

Iori would fume and instinctively cock his fist back, but he slowly began to change... It felt strangely nice to meet someone who didn't agree with everything you said. Unlike the numerous servants who would bow down to his wishes, Miyuki was... different. She didn't want him to talk in a loud tone, she didn't want him to frown, and she always said what she felt. Children are so open with their emotions and feelings, and you must praise them for that. Something sorely lacking in the adolescent society.

Miyuki lived with her parents who were simple farmers and sent her to school in the city, and would catch a ride with one of their neighbours who worked in a construction site down in Little Italy. Iori always wondered why she wasn't scared like the rest of the city children. It was probably because of her upbringing. Simple folk are very trusting, kind, and open, unlike city kids. It's not the city children per se, but more of what their urbanized elders feed to them.

Miyuki was always picked on by the school children who lived in the city. They called her country girl and other mean things. Children may be innocent, but they can be the most horrible individuals once they start losing what they once had inside and give way to the process of 'growing up'. However, especially on field trips, they never dared insult Miyuki when Iori was around. Occasionally, there would be a brave, or very stupid boy who would spit out an insult at Miyuki. Iori's eyes would become slits, and his stare struck fear into the other children, to the point that a mere look would make someone pee in his pants. It never got to blows though. No matter how angry or how hurt Miyuki felt, she would stop Iori...

"Don't fight, it's wrong." Miyuki pleaded to Iori.

For the first time in his life Iori felt responsibility towards someone other than himself. It was his duty to look over Miyuki and not let her be hurt, but she saw her scared eyes when he got angry. {Fight...? Iori thought over and over...}

...

Upon returning home one day Iori confronted his waiting father. Yagami-sama blocked his path to the gates, arms crossed and a disappointed frown on his face. It was time for practice and Yagami-sama was waiting for his favourite son to come and spar with him.

"Otou-san (father), I do not want to train anymore." Iori said forcefully, something he never dared do before.

"Idiot!" Yagami-sama growled.

Iori's rational thought came back for a moment, but he dismissed his fears and stood to his convictions.

"I do not want to fight anymore." Iori said again. "I do not want to spend my whole day studying and fighting anymore..."

"It is the child..." Yagami-sama said sternly with a furious look in his eyes. "I thought you would see the futility of such things... but I guess I was wrong. Iori do not defy me!"

With that, Yagami-sama turned around and marched back to the main complex without another word. Iori felt a different kind of fear, fear probably induced from his knowledge, knowledge of the adult world which never passed the minds of other stupid children.

Usually he would take physical punishment from his father. The kicks and beatings were truly painful, but Iori was in control. He wouldn't cry out, and when it was over it was over. When he stumbled back to his room, he was safe, and able to live for another day. He would never ever cry out.

This time it was different, his father left without raising his fist. This worried Iori because he was aware. He felt uneasy not knowing what his father was about to do, but at the same time he wasn't naive and could guess the inevitable.

...

The next day he sped off to meet Miyuki by the cherry blossom tree. Wishing and hoping, but his fears were confirmed when he didn't see the smile on her face.

"My family has to leave." She said between sobs. Iori wanted to tell her everything, he wanted to tell her about his father and he wanted to fight it, but he knew it was futile. In the most sorrowful moments Iori laughed. He laughed out loud, as hard as he could. Miyuki didn't feel insulted, but just didn't understand the reason behind it. {How ironic, Iori thought to himself. This is a simple country child, who was not afraid to go against me, Iori Yagami, but I don't have the courage to go against my own father.} Iori thought up excuses, he wanted to comfort her, or offer an explanation, but he couldn't, so he did the only thing he could. Laugh. He laughed so hard until it hurt, until tears flowed down his smiling face. Until he could no longer feel or think anymore.

"Here, take care of her." Miyuki said quietly as she handed a snow white kitten to Iori.

Iori stopped laughing and looked at the cat that was in his hands, and after a while, let it drop to the grass. He hated the cat, he hated Miyuki's parents, he hated the tree, he hated his father... Miyuki said goodbye and walked away as the sunset. This time she wasn't coming back. He felt water go down his cheek, and then drops, tears from the heavens. The peaceful breeze suddenly howled, deafeneningly. The rain poured, and stung him. It made the kitten curl up by Iori's feet. Tense claws spread wide in defiance, Iori let out a primal scream, but the thunderclap dulled it. He wanted to tear the cat limb from limb, but when he held it, he couldn't. He saw himself in the kitten, so weak and it relied so much for Iori's protection. It reminded him of how he relied too much on his father, that like that cat, he was a pet whom Yagami-sama played god over, no different from the rest of the Yagami servants. I have to get away, Iori thought to himself... out of this goddamn place.

Iori staggerd in the rain, all the while keeping the kitten in his jacket to keep it safe.

...

"Kill the cat." Yagami-sama commanded Iori.

Iori knew he couldn't hide Miyuki's last gift forever. He tried so hard to do so, but as always it all ended in failure. In the eyes of his father, he was powerless, and was destined to fail miserably.

"Kill... IT!" The voice echoed.

Iori looked blankly at his father, trying to think up the words in defiance, but his father stared down at him. Yagami-sama's glare destroyed his will, it made him feel inferior. His father just grabbed the kitten from Iori's hands and threw it to the wall. There was a weak cry, before the kitten rolled and started to shake. At this point Iori had lost everything, he had lost his courage, Miyuki, and he lost himself. He walked over to the shivering kitten and squatted.

"Kurushii na no kai? Does it hurt?" Iori whispered, and he slowly saw the fear from the kitten's eyes disappear for its master was going to save her. "I will set you free..."

I WILL SET YOU FREE.

Iori stroked the white kitten's cheek softly, eliciting a slight purr and warn sensation from the baby. He rubbed her cheeks as If it was second nature, then, held the kitten's neck firmly and broke it with one twist. He looked at it's limp body hanging by his fingers, and he cried. What had just died in his hands was more than the kitten, more than Miyuki, it was Iori who died. All those memories died.

"I envy ... envy you..." Iori cried softly, his words breaking from his sobs. "But I was stronger." He poked his fingers into the carcass and blood ran down his fingers and hands. {Die Die Die, he said to himself.} With you, will die all the hurt, all the weakness. I will find the hate. The red blood streamed down. It felt warm and painful to the touch. Iori bit down on his tongue hard, for he knew his show of suffering would only please his grinning father.

I WILL SET YOU FREE.

Instead, Iori did what he had always done, his only refuge. He laughed again. Insane. Bellowing across the rooftops. Louder and louder until his mind was blank. Purple. The purple flames burned away any trace of the body; Iori's memories. The colour purple that cleansed the mind body, and soul.

...

EPILOGUE:

Iori sat in his room like he had done before, with his back against the wall. Total pitch blackness enveloped him. It offered comfort, the darkness. Always ready to listen, and offer no criticisms.

Five... Four... Three... he counted to himself slowly. Each one a mental note of what he once thought was a reason to continue on with his existence. It was a long list at first... To smile, to laugh, to learn from tutors, to run in the grass and feel security amongst his harem of servants who raised him. Mother... He extended all ten fingers and as the time went they started to extinguish one by one... Miyuki is dead, and with that one flame snuffed, I am not a child anymore... and another died. One by one... Two were left... I hate you...Iori... This left one purple demon which floated down to his palm.

He let the flame burn more, feeding it with his emotions. It rose and flickered wildly as he smiled.

"I will grow up, be strong, and then I will be free..." Iori promised.