The Colour Purple Chapter 24: We'll always be together, 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?"

NEVER FORGET - that in this world, YOU are responsible for every soul you touch.

If you pick up a friend from the depths of pain, you have a responsibility to see the story through - till the very end; but in this way you can realize that your life was not for nothing.

-05.31.13

Chapter 24: We'll always be together

Afternoon... All the things you've been told were mostly lies, kneeling in the dark rain thinking; and slowly, I came to grips with the realization of my helplessness in the whole scheme of things, of my insignificance against the whole world. This is what separates those who are destroyed by the complexity of lies, given before due time.

...

Terry spent the night in jail. Not very becoming for a person on the road to a more peaceful life. The events were coming one after the other. As if he was being pawned within a conspiracy, but he told himself he didn't care. They always tell themselves they never care about things. They say that they only care about what's right for themselves, not what HE thinks is right. The day at the carnival was one of the worst days he had had eversince he had decided to put aside his past life. Terry was always stupid. Stubborn, maybe.

He never fit in, in this world. From the very beginning, he was hated by all, an orphan that was considered a burden. From the very beginning he was told that nobody needed him. He was weak both in spirit and body. So he became angry. Anger was his only refuge. As one day seemed to melt into the next, without separation without distinction because there was nothing but the bitter self pity reminding him… There was no other reason to live – except to see the next sunrise. Then.

THEN. Just before he came to the realization that everyone didn't care – that they cared only for themselves.

Then one day - Jeff Bogard, a stranger – held out his hand to him, a man who cared – for the first time – for someone else other than HIMSELF.

Jeff Bogard – a stranger - gave him a new life.

Was there a reason? Was there a simple reason why he did it?

Jeff taught him what it meant to be in a family. Made him feel loved and needed. Terry didn't have to prove anything anymore, he didn't need to search anymore.

Perhaps Jeff played some game with himself – made himself better than me?

Perhaps the soft sensation that made us think – it was okay. It was there to make us stronger. Then as quickly as it came, it ended in bloodshed. Terry gripped his head and squeezed tightly to numb the pain and spasms. Again he was on the road he remembered. He wanted satisfaction, he wanted revenge. He was lost again. On the streets, he fought, he trained, he wanted only one thing. He wanted to prove that he was the best, he wanted to prove that he was needed. When he laid his first punch and downed his first opponent, it felt good. The feeling was ten times better than any orgasm. With every fight he felt alive, felt confident, and happy. Happy at himself. For once, he had a goal. It gave him purpose.

Then Terry stood over Geese's battered body – the man who took it all away from him. What this evil man didn't realize that his acts far surpassed ego – it far surpassed self satisfaction. When Geese killed Jeff, he had killed two men, and this – he had to pay for in kind.

"Why? Why did Jeff do that – hold out his hand to a piece of shit like me? Why did he have to go out of his way to help a pathetic child like me?"

Terry clutched his side, and wobbled away. Satisfied at last, but that was it. He never felt the rush again. The emptiness was inside of him, and the dirty feeling lingered like a hangover. There was no other purpose, any other fights were just ego boosters, and it made him feel worthless. So he settled down, hoping to lavish once again in the love and companionship, in the security he had been denied of since youth. In his job, the construction site, it was peaceful.

But it wasn't enough for Terry. The world was pushing him. Terry was only a lowly construction worker, never gaining any respect from those snobbish businessmen. He hated the dirty life of fighting more than sin, but he wasn't needded, he wasn't loved in this mundane world. There was only one reason, one simple reason for fighting.

I didn't feel [IT]. I didn't feel it when I killed Geese. Then maybe Jeff's death was in vain?

Terry's old life with his father gave him a sense of accomplishment. It made him alive. He was needed. He had to prove... Prove to everyone that he wasn't so insignificant at all. That was Terry's character. He can never be satisfied with an idle state of being. There has to be more. To conquer the world and conquer yourself.

Fighting was the only thing Terry excelled in. Everyone in the world needs something to fall on. Something only HE can do, something better than the others. Insignificant people, useless people are either happy with their simplicity, just die in disappointment, or just fade away and are never remembered.

Jeff held out his open palm – "Punch!" Jeff said. And so – Terry did so. He punched forward, all four knuckles ramming toward his father's open palm, and beyond yours and my perception, the VIOLENT wave busted around them, dusting up the wind.

Jeff nodded. "It was good… but," he continued, "Don't punch JUST my hand." What is important – envision what lies beyond that punch. What lies beyond me. "Punching a hand never defeated an enemy. When kicking a door down or punching an enemy envision your punch PENETRATING your enemy."

PENETRATE YOUR ENEMY. Envision your fist going through him – "Through him. Only then YOU can step forward."

...

The prison cell was not at all comfy. The low ceiling, the filthy walls... It made Terry feel like an animal. Terry felt his lip, blood caked it by the sides, and Terry tried to numb the stinging feeling in his gut by biting down hard, gritting his teeth. He had been in prison before. Yes. Back in the days when he'd get plastered for no good reason. Terry remembered that time as well... With Krauser. Wolfgang Krauser. Krauser had single handedly beat Terry with hardly any effort. Krauser mocked him, belittled him. For the first time in Terry's life. He was afraid. He was afraid of death, of pain, afraid of Krauser's power. Why had he suddenly changed? When it was Geese, his father's murderer he faced, he showed no fear, he battled to the end. Fuelled by vengeance.

I did not feel IT. I did not feel the happiness that was taken away from me – from me – oh so very long ago.

Finally, when he lost the fish game, when he lost the shooting game, when he missed all those balls. He knew. It wasn't because of death. It was because he was afraid to lose. He was afraid that he was insignificant. He was afraid that Krauser was going to take away his only happiness. His pride as a fighter. If Krauser had done that Terry was as good as dead. He had to always prove himself, since his youth. And when the time came for Krauser and Terry to exchange blows for the final time, Terry spared no mercy, he fought tooth and nail, like an animal. All for the savage instinct of supremacy. Krauser killed himself, threw himself off a cliff, because it was better than facing defeat. Terry looked at the man's falling body, and Tony laughed next to him, calling out at the fool who took his own life, but Terry knew, deep inside, he knew that Krauser was even at the end better than him. Kraser refused to show any fear till the end.

Without his fighting spirit, with his desire stripped from him at the construction site, in the real world, Terry was as good as dead. There are many people out there who are 'dead'. They do things they despise, but have no choice in the matter, because it was all forced into them, and they unconciously take it to mind, systematically brainwashed, either willfully or not.

Was that selfish bastard, Jeff wrong then?

Again Terry's mind hurt, he clasped it with his vise like fingers, trying to numb it. Being drunk was less painful. At least he could get to sleep. He tried to anyway. Terry lay in that pathetic excuse for a bed. Rolled and faced the wall, tried to forget anything. Sleep. It was the only true escape from the real world, although, it is true, that the irresponsible captain will have the same problems waiting for him when he wakes, there is still the sanctuary of sleep. Noone to criticize you, none to hate you, noone to love you.. nothing. Sleep. The nightmares will come and go, and so will dreams. Dreams are closer to you when you sleep. You may screw up your life, and the problems you encounter may beat you down as the day dredges on, but you sleep, and when you wake, you are still yourself.. ready to face a new day.

...

"Wake up son. Terry, it's time to get up," He smiled. Oh how wonderful – I remember -

There was a clang of the gates, a guard, gave Terry a sour look and called for him to get up. That face was not really what he wanted to see, first thing in the morning. He wondered to himself, did they use the telephone number he gave them. He gave them Andy's number last night. It was probably Andy who came to bail him out. Terry worried at what Andy would do. It wasn't Terry's fault he got into a fight, but what would Andy say? Andy would definitely not be so nice. If all else fails, he'd slug him for letting himself be caught by the police. Probably blame him for fighting drunk again. Whatever! Terry didn't care anymore. He didn't want to go to his job, he just wanted to stay in this cold jail forever. He wanted to go up to the guard and tell him 'I don't want to be free. I don't care anymore. Nobody ever CARES. Lock me up again. It's okay.' and if they didn't lock him up, he wanted to slug him, slug him so hard that they had to lock him up. He was sick and tired of everything.

"Is Andy waiting outside?" Terry asked.

"Who?"

"Andy! My brother. I gave you his number so you could call him up."

"Oh, we didn't get in touch with him."

"Then who bailed me out?" Terry asked quite curious.

"Terry-san" Tony called out when he finally saw him outside the police station.

"Tony?"

"Are you okay?" a child bade him to look past that punch.

Are you okay?

"I'm fine. Tony, did you bail me out?"

"Yes."

"Why? Aren't you angry with me?"

"I decided that I was wrong in forcing you to join the King of Fighters. I even got you in trouble with those guys. I didn't mean to. All I wanted was to see you fight, because I wanted to make sure that you were making the right decision in quitting."

"Where'd you get the money for the bail Tony?" Terry asked.

"It's nothing..."

"WHERE, Tony?"

"It's my money, spending money I got from work. I was supposed to rent a cheap place here."

Was Jeff wrong? I didn't feel it then.

Just as you kick a door down, as you kick and punch you have to surpass it and imagine yourself penetrating that wall – only then will your PUNCH be effective – only then will you be able to unleash that fighting spirit.

…and if you learn this, if you can look BEYOND your target…

Terry's composure broke, he felt for Tony, and he somehow knew that Tony wouldn't deceive him. The boy had come all this way because he was sincerely worried about Terry. It was a long time since he had felt that kind of concern, that kind of sincere admiration from someone. How many had died, had sacrificed for his sake, so that he wouldn't lose? Terry wasn't prepared to live a simple life just yet.

"I've got to get the next boat out of here, so I'll just call okay..." Tony said as he turned around.

Terry caught Tony by the arm and spun him around – even if its out of style; even if it makes me feel this way, Terry forced their eyes to meet this way. We were together here.

…and if you learn [this]… maybe…

"Tony," Terry began not wanting to let his sights let go. "You want to stay at my place from now on? I need someone to cheer for me when I go to the King of Fighters tournament."

Maybe – you will understand…

Tony smiled calmly but inside he was jumping and cheering.

Maybe you will understand why he did it. Why Jeff took a boy who was a [nobody] and made him feel like a [somebody]. Why for once he wanted to prove that he was more than man, and maybe more than GOD. To surpass himself, it was not just to punch through that wall… Just as he had to envision our attack penetrating past our target – we had to look past everything that was in front of us. If you punch a fist, an enemy will NEVER topple. You had to imagine yourself plowing through that knot in your heart.

Jeff Bogard was the PERFECT HERO. He defined this legacy of hungry wolves.

"Tony, Thank you." Terry said, and Tony just hugged him as hard as he could. Wishing noone could see them this way, their tears flowed down fearlessly – DEFIANTLY. Oh how they wished the story ended now, for the world to end just right now, because fighting had no fire.

I want to WIN the KOF. I want to become the greatest. The GREATEST the world so very…

"I understand, Jeff…" Terry whispered. "No! I finally understand, [Dad]." Terry roared. This is the reason you held your hand out to me.

{We will always be together.}

...

Flattering someone you hate is just as easy as criticizing someone you admire.

This is the feeling that had eluded me for so long… so very long.

...