The Colour Purple Chapter 31: Shodown, a king of fighters fanfic

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

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.

If INERTIA keeps the world together – then CONFLICT releases our hearts from its chains.

If you love someone, or if you hate someone, let them know, with all your heart – because in the end, isn't this what this story is all about?

Here, the lines between love and hatred had become blurry and without meaning.

Chapter 31: Shodown

"Joe, please!" King pleaded as she tried to reach for Joe's arm. "Please stop."

"Bakayaro'n'jya!" Joe shouted, unconsciously throwing his hands up and slapping away King's request. To back down now? Fucking no way! Joe was appalled, mortified at the thought. Lines were crossed and this had become a man's fight now. Joe was completely disrespected by this new bouncer, and what was worse, he couldn't say anything at all, couldn't think of a comeback... Clark made Joe look weak, which was enough, and Joe was sure as hell not going to let it by. Joe was insulted, degraded, but most of all, challenged... Even if none of this made rational sense anymore, the reason had become irrelevant, the only resolution is the fight.

Because, it was the purest form of communication, and this was the only thing they knew.

Joe's arm went high, his elbow crossed over his face as he reached for the back of his collar. He whipped it, and in one fluid motion, Joe pulled off his yellow sport coat along with his white shirt. The jacket went over his head and his left arm slithered from his sleeve in one smooth motion. The magic trick ended with his clothes resting on an adjacent barstool. Joe fixed his gaze dead straight at Clark, and Clark replied with a timid condescending glare.

"YAROU!" Joe called out to the asshole in front of him. He flexed his bare chest, curled his biceps as high as they would go. Elbows were about chin high and fists floating out and above his eyes, it was a peculiar ready fighting position – the Muay Thai ready stance. Muay Thai – arguably the true combat sport.

Almost like second nature, Joe cocked his leg back, and immediately thrust his right knee out. Then in one fluid motion turned completely around with a reverse roundhouse kick with the opposite leg for effect. A quick left jab and right cross, before he straightened himself and slapped his bare shoulder, patted his yellow trousers and threw up his spiked hair. "I'm going to kick your ass. Mr. HANDSOME-sama – that's ME - is going to beat the living crap out of you! Get ready to face the prince of PAIN!"

...

"Careful, Oniisan!" Andy said to his big brother. Terry nodded sternly in response.

"The prince of pain…? Really, Joe…? Really - the prince of pain?...?" Yuri said dryly, flatly out loud in a nasal tone. Her shoulders rolled over lethargically, with her half slit eyes to match; she couldn't even keep herself upright after hearing something so horribly corny.

Andy rolled up his sleeves and scanned the perimeter. Even with his face painfully rigid, his eyes quickly rolled left and right in their sockets, breaking down the bar into strategic sections, thoroughly predicting how the environment would aid or hinder the war that was about to unravel. Terry, in turn, rolled his fists round at the wrists, relaxing them, then cupping his fist in the other, cracking his fingers. Both brothers simultaneously let out a sigh as they came to the same realization. The optimum line of attack and resulting splash zone was clearly laid out, and both came to the same conclusion. With the crowded bar, it would surely influence the tide in that direction. Terry looked to the right and thrust his temples slyly but purposely to the side… 'That way.' He motioned, wordlessly, to his brother, letting his gaze guide the way.

Yuri's brain hurt from the utter stupidity of the matter. Why are they even fighting? Why are boys so stupid!? How did it come to this? What is wrong with that man's brain?! Her thought bubble popped when she saw movement from her flank. "Wha- wait - what?!" Yuri squirmed in confusion.

Terry's hands clamped down on the sides of the table approximately 7 o'clock behind Yuri. Another grunt came in response, Andy was on the other side supporting his brother – the table was up in the air.

King's vision jerked one way then the other and her worry began to feverishly manifest on her sweaty brow. "Oh.. wait.." she pleaded.

The whole cast of characters stopped themselves in their tracks and in unison turned to the brothers. Cartoon-like superdeformed versions of Terry and Andy were moving tables around to the side to clear up space. With cheerful faces they stacked chairs upside down on far tables many hours before closing time.

"Uhm.. What are you two doing?" Yuri asked as the pair continued to busily clear an open space for the arena, neatly with great care making sure the tables and chairs around Joe and Clark were safely out of harms way.

"I still think we should split this fight up." Terry tried to convince Andy.

"You stupid! This is Joe we're talking about. After all those conceited things he said, there's no turning back." Andy replied with half closed round eyes.

"OOOOOOIIIIIII!" Joe screeched. "I CAN HEAR YOU!?"

"This is a public place, Andy, you can't condone fighting here... These people might get hurt or worse, leave!" Terry reasoned, paying no attention to a comical super deformed Joe.

Andy let go of his side of the table without warning, and as a result, Terry suddenly lost his grip and the leg hit his toe. A LARGE, round teardrop swang from his eyelid like a pendulum. Terry's hands wrapped around his foot; he grit his teeth in pain.. "Ow owow!"

The spotlight was Andy's now, as the world focused on his now serious glare, the shot it all out across the now open dance floor at Joe's enemy. "You don't think you're going to get out of this in one piece do you!?" Andy matched Clark's grimace. Off at the background Terry was skipping to and from behind his brother, clutching his swelling foot with both hands – all of these admittedly awkward conflicting tones of comedy and utter seriousness that only served to remove their spectators from immersion.

"Hey.. hey guys!" Joe tried to interject, though unsuccessfully.

"Andy. NO." Terry said now in a serious tone. He put his hand on Andy's shoulder to restrain him, but Andy slapped it away, turned around and gave a menacing stare.

"Get off my case, Oniisan!" Andy roared at his big brother.

"This is no way to solve the problem."

"You chickening out? Don't you care if Joe gets the shit kicked out of him?" Andy said.

"Andy, it's one thing to condone a fight but ganging up on one person..."

"HEY! Who's going to get beat up!?" Joe called again.

"Look, I'm talking Joe, just SHUT UP." Andy cast Joe aside and returned his gaze to his older brother. "WHAT YOU CALLING ME, ONIISAN!?" Andy's demeanor steadily increased. Terry saw Andy's fist cock back and put his guard up.

"ANDYYYYYYYYY!" came a continuous voice that was steadily getting louder rocketing towards the younger Bogard.

"Eh?" Andy squeaked.

Mai flew like a torpedo, head first into Andy, toppling them both over.

"Oh, Andy… I'm sorry I took so long. I had to do a lot of errands and…"

"M...M...Mmma..Mai!?" Andy stuttered, his stern rage was immediately replaced with a frantic, fantastic panic.

"I'm so glad you waited for me." Mai Shiranui playfully said as she hugged Andy tight and smothered his with her entire body with glee.

"hgnDkkON'T, ngYOU'RE smSMUTHEeerRING ME!." Andy gasped. "ngI kgk CAN'T BREATHE..." Mai's chest suffocated his face, her entire body overcoming Andy's on the ground.

Terry sighed and proceeded to move tables in resignation as Andy tried to get his face off of Mai's chest in the valiant hope to reach air.

"O-right.. O-righhht.." Yuri now wore a striped hard hat, with a glowing rod in each hand directed Terry's redecorating efforts, air traffic control style.

...

Clark straightened his bow tie with both hands before thrusting both palms out in front of him. He kept them there for a moment, tensing his shoulders, then relaxing, rolling them in their sockets. He let the curling motion flow down like a wave down his biceps, his elbows, then to his hands – feeling the twinkling sensation reach his fingertips as each digit came alive with a spark – his arms slithered - mimicked a calm breeze before easing to a still. Reminded of an old Chinese kung-fu movie, the motion reversed and retracted back his arms. The jazz music continued, the band oblivious to what was unfolding. A trance like electronic chorus filtered through the air, Clark reversed the motion, the wave going back from his hands, to the elbows before the motion finally settled to his shoulders. Clark finally put his arms up in a defensive stance – hands open, each thumb lightly touching his temples, and to punctuate the ritual, he tilted his head downwards, grit his teeth hard and bared his fangs in a smile.

A very strange and peculiar fighting stance.

"..." Clark mumbled under his breath. His hands floated up there almost like a modern 'hands up' gunslinger stance. "Between you and King, if you have something to say then say it. Don't act like a pussy." The way Clark talked seemed unnatural, his manner of speech clunky and socially awkward, but it got straight to the point. "If you're going to fight me for King, then let's do it."

"CLA.." King started but stopped.

"KING! Aren't you going to stop them?!" Yuri reasoned to King, taking off her hard hat as she clipped her glowing flashlights under her armpits. This seemed the only logical recourse for her.

King kept silent.

Joe cringed in angst and snarled. He wasn't gaining any points, it's time to take this one full contact. As in – for real FULL CONTACT. Like, fullcontact . com, like Hotmail . com!

"Joe! Just stop! Please!" King tried to reason, more forcefully now, putting both hands on the bar in front of her.

But this campy and playful manner was just like when we were children and our world was viewed from a lens of little consequence. When the world was easy going – up until the exact point when you realized that the world was not such a wonderful place.

AND you realized for the first time that the world exists only to HURT you.

…

This is NOT. This is NOT.

This is NOT the King I know. What have they done to you? He regressed deep into his mind yet with a wailing silent scream that drove him mad with rage. Amidst the feminine flowery speech and the weak petty pleas for peace. IF any of these people knew, if only they KNEW. What have they done to you?!

You do NOT belong here.

…

Terry walked cautiously up to Clark with both his open palms in surrender. "Look." Terry offered a peaceful negotiation, making sure Clark saw his hands up; He made sure that Clark understood that he wasn't looking for a fight. Behind those dark sunglasses – only mystery served to confuse Terry. Terry took cautious, purposeful steps when he was sure that Clark didn't retaliate at his initial advances.

Yuri Sakazaki didn't understand. She didn't understand how all this finally devolved to this mess. The night was still young and there were two shirtless guys ready to turn La Bijoux into a war zone. What was wrong with MEN? A wayward comment here then there, suddenly resulted in a full scale war. Silence – then finally they had come to face each other as if they had killed each other's children, ready to tear into each other. I don't understand it. How could men escalate such petty things to fighting?

Terry eased his pace, shuffling closer as he closed the distance to Clark. He was okay he thought, he could diffuse this situation if he kept his cool pace and…

Like a recording taken from the final moments of the 100 meter dash, Joe's face trailed by Terry's and when viewed from the side, a pointed nose and rabid grin emerged in profile from Terry's own face. He ran faster than his legs could ever imagine and the void Joe left behind in his wake sucked in the air to fill in the emptiness; Terry's body was pulled back from the vacuum. Cheek to cheek with his friend, Terry, Joe dashed towards Clark full force, screaming heartily for blood. Terry's outstretched arms of surrender were cast aside when Joe burst into action, overtaking Terry. The man's left foot ripped into the ground, ripping marble and concrete, and thrust forward.

Terry could not HEAR it, but King took a moment to listen carefully, within that emptiness the slight sound of popping and cracking cooking oil emanated from the darkness that seemed to bubble from the ground – then outwards. A very familiar sound of fear and dread.

In reply Clark stood there, the colours around him slowly swirled, a plain, hungry void of black and white, centered in Clark Steel's body sucked everything in. The void called to Terry, temping him inwards, and as he realized that if his calm mind was suddenly shaken by Clark's aura, Joe, never calm was probably ready to tear his own body apart limb from limb from extreme rapture. That void that sucked you into its pure, unyielding evil invitation.

30 minutes ago, Andy and Terry could hardly gauge this man's fighting prowess. His cold soul, hidden behind those mysterious shades – his eyes covered from the world, felt nothing more than flat bravado. But, now Terry guessed, that behind the wall that lay shelter underneath those dark tinted glasses, may in fact hide a beast…

"Joe.. yamen' da yo.. Stop, he's strong..." Terry silently said to thin air, then stopped, for he knew that it had begun, the fuse was lit, and any discouragement of this sort would only put Joe at a disadvantage.

"hunfgh! nnggmmMagnAI!" Andy mumbled. He was slamming his palm on the ground like a pinned wrestler, and the rate of his slaps were getting slower the more air he lost.

...

"IKU IKU IKUZE!" Joe called – LET'S GET IT ON! Timing his steps purposely he thrust his foot on the ground and hurtled his body up. The ties that bound Joe's ankles to the earth pulled taut before burning to a cinder, ashes remaining, and finally, released from the laws of gravity, he flew upwards, floated - with wings.

{I never really understood this, this… thing.} she thought to herself as time seemed to slow – as she broke down every chapter, as the girl, she broke down every frame trying to analyze how it came to this…}

Why? When another woman smiles, looks a man's way, he is so ready to make a fool of himself. He would stammer in sentences, use words he would never use otherwise. Trying to break it down to coherent thoughts… If a woman were to take a meaningless, careless moment to look a man's way he would break down, and crumple into a dirty mess. With a smile.

…AND at sudden, unreasonable, illogical provocation he would be ready to kill another man without another rational thought. What was this, such a preposterous concept? In that one moment, MEN were justified in breaking social norms… only to FIGHT another man.

A carnal law beyond calculated reason? Or maybe I was just simply two steps behind?

This… I can never understand. How at one moment, a man could be weak and helpless, and in another, he would roar valiantly as if the world would END tomorrow. {Why did you leave me behind?"} she thought. Men can never understand us, and we can NEVER understand [THEM].

This… I can never understand.

Perhaps – this is why only men are [attracted to each other] – in this way.

…

Joe didn't wait for Clark to say anything and just leapt to the offense. He took a few hops forward then twisted his whole body. His body was free from all rules now. Floating free now, Joe twisted his entire body counter clockwise, pivoting around his right leg as an axis. His back was now facing Clark – in moments, Joe's rabid gaze peeked over his shoulders. Is left elbow suspended in mid air around mouth height to balance himself as if fighting was a dance, pirouetting ballerina…

STOP.

Flying spinning back kick.

Joe's cocked leg and his left heel floated up gradually until it lingered head height to Clark, waiting there approximately 10 feet away… Something was amiss. The attack was a simple 'flying spinning back kick' Clark mused; while that reverse spinning kick was not something to be taken lightly, 10 feet away was much too far for it to even remotely hit. Joe stabbed his eyes downward from his perch up high – his lower back tensed, making his world erupt into flames. To TEAR your face from its hold below!

Clark looked up in confusion but never let his stern demeanour and guard waver. Joe looked down – his heel trapped in the limelight. Then.

Jerking his hips forcefully rearward Joe extended his left leg forward, heel leading. Joe floated in mid air with his body suspended by invisible strings. The momentum turned Joe's entire body around enveloping his attack into roaring fires that would devour it all.

"Flashyu Kiiiick!" Joe screamed. Joe's body immediately exploded into motion and launched forward toward his enemy with no inhibition – beyond all logical comprehension. Joe Higashi was now no different from a Patriot missile, ready to take Clark's head off his shoulders with no regrets.

Mister Dan Steveson took a deep breath, tapped his toes onto the stage beneath to get his rhythm. When that musician wrapped his lips around that plastic mouthpiece, the world came to life. The jazz band, as if on queue, souped up the tempo.

Clark's hands swayed in a graceful manner, moving like waves, overlapping each other, twisting and turning. At one point they would be high in the air, the next instant, down low, then somewhere else, splitting and coming together like a smooth dream.

Must you still continue to argue for a story rooted in reality when it is possible to hurl fireballs from your hands? If there are special rules that exist here, then logic takes a similar course of action.

It is not a flying spinning back kick. It's a flying reverse back kick.

To Joe, the dream would be ended as soon as his foot tore that smug man's face, sheared it off his neck. A thundering crack, and explosion…

Without even realizing it, Joe's foot was in a vice grip. Both of Clark's hands held fast onto Joe's ankles.

"Nimmu.. ryoukai." Mission understood, Clark uttered on instinct.

"KONOYARO!" Joe cussed eyes ablaze. You son of a bitch! Instead of blocking the attack, Clark has stopped the Flash Kick by gripping Joe's ankles be the sides. In that instant he was again motionless in mid air as his enemy effortlessly foiled his attack by capturing it with both hands for a split second.

Clark laughed to himself before he said out loud, "A disgrace to your 'true combat sport'."

Joe paid no attention to his trapped leg and just twisted his waist again the same way, this time using Clark's grip as an abutment, he twisted to deliver a slow yet surely devastating sledgehammer roundhouse kick with his other, free leg. Clark let go of the hold and ducked low, letting the follow up barely graze the top of his head. Joe jumped up to reorient himself with the floor.

Terry, Andy, Yuri… They stood in monochrome with stunned gawking visages. Joe didn't want to accept it, he threw out one of his most powerful attacks, but he had obviously underestimated this monster.

"ORAORAORARORAORARAAA!" A flurry of punches attacked Clark.

Clark answered with a flurry of slaps, fingers lightly covering Joe's knuckles, sending them aside, his palms throwing the blur of punches aside easily. With each punch that Joe threw, with each elbow smash he hurled, Clark easily kept pace. Joe switched up his tempo from slow to fast, switching from punch to elbow, closing the distance then stepping back to keep Clark guessing – but it was to no avail.

"What are you doing? I'm not even, even attacking yet." Clark jeered.

{He's right.} Yuri thought. Thinking about it another way, all this time she didn't even expect that Clark could fight on his own. A fatal mistake for her and now for Joe. With every attack Joe didn't hold back. He threw his trademark moves one after the other expecting a quick and easy fight, but the were all stopped cold by Clark. One had wasted too many opportunities, and neither of them even knew Clark's fighting style. All the cards were still with Clark.

"Shut up!" Joe stepped back and suddenly switched tactics. This time he sent his legs to Clark, in hopes to send that smirk on his face to hell. Joe was fighting now, and he wasn't as cocky or rash. He knew he wouldn't beat Clark with a speed trick, so he relied on his kicks. Muay Thai. The famous Thai kickboxing, where a fighter's greatest asset is his monstrously conditioned legs. Joe's legs could go through hell and back, tougher than tree trunks and more devastating than steel. Joe's kicks were slow, but each blow felt like an ogre's club. Clark could easily catch the kicks and in the same motion redirect then, but was definitely showing signs of fatigue as each kick weakened the strength of Clark's parries. Yet still, Clark continued effortlessly it may seem. With each of Joe's behemoth kicks he parried, pushing them, lifting, then throwing to the side, and in the next moment he would regain his stance. Unaffected.

"A waste of time." Clark muttered.

True, Clark was clearly getting tired, but the fatigue was taking its toll more on Joe's body. Higashi had to turn the tables somehow or else it would turn out for the worse, for him. Left and right. Joe couldn't think of anything else but to continue the tempo so his enemy couldn't regain his bearings. Even if Clark could block and parry his full roundhouse kicks, it wouldn't be without a price. Clark hasn't initiated any attacks, but Joe had already telegraphed his moves and if this continued, it would only be a matter of time before Joe could caught off guard in this battle of attrition.

Joe let out a grunt and hurled his entire body clockwise to heave yet another kick past his enemy in the hopes to find an opening. Clark flashed a grin, he realized, as Joe's kicks gradually started to get slower. No, not that… Joe purposely slowed down to regain his bearings and to let his strength last for a little more. He watched Clark's hands; they were now flowing with a smooth figure eight, tracing a small infinity symbol in the air.

…

"AHH!" Terry finally realized, fists and fingers curled inside.

…

"HIMA DA!" Joe called, welcoming the opportunity that the goddess of fortune laid open for him, and him alone. In her own way, she seemed to smile…

…and the music kept its pace – to keep everyone satisfied…

Joe hopped back, and dug his heels. Joe sucked in all the air his lungs could take. He kept it all in until his rib cage protruded through the skin on his chest and spun around, braced himself onto a barstool and flew towards Clark.

"WUUUUURYAAAA.. KURAYEEHH!" Joe thundered.

Clark's fingers tensed. Joe came in with his sledgehammer roundhouse again, this time propelled in the air. Clark made his palms sway in his defensive dance.

{What's he trying to hit?!} Clark thought. Joe was in the air and heading for him, sure, but with his trajectory, he'd surely fall short before he'd get a chance to hit Clark at all. Joe came anyway.

"UUUURRRRAAAA! Your FACE!" Joe shouted as his right foot came sweeping down from up high. Clark instinctively held his ground and put his hands up. Joe missed Clark's face by a mile, all he hit was Clark's right palm squarely, which was thrown wide. Clark tried to regain his balance, and his thrown hand went with the flow of the kick, twisting in mid flight, to fly in a circle, as if choreographed, trying to return to the defense stance.

{What the fuck is he trying to hit?} Clark mused.

Upon hitting the ground, Joe shifted the weight of his body so he would fall to his right, and at the same moment, swinging his left hip, foot now roaring again. It missed Clark's face again, only to hit Clark's left hand solidly and a crack of light.

{He missed again...} Clark played with the thought as if he was fighting a child. {WAIT...} Clark snapped, with a concerned look showing on his mouth when his lips came apart.

"SO NO TORI!" EXACTLY! Joe proclaimed with a fanged, gloating, smile.

The view zoomed out – the camera angled, swirled around Joe and Clark 360 degrees - and from Clark's stance, and exposed the final predicament. With each forceful kick and the other, Clark's hands took longer as his figure eight trajectory grew wider and wider. That was it! Joe had knocked Clark's hands wide and Clark was dead open. Joe never intended to connect with Clark's face and instead put full force on… Clark had been paying too much attention to defending his body when what he should have been concerned about was his defensive stance.

…his full POWER, onto attacking and destroying Clark Steel's defense.

"His defense!" Terry said to Yuri, pumping his fist in triumph. "Joe was picking away at Clark's defense directly – it's taken him longer to get back to center!"

Yuri tried to stop herself but the smile erupted from her mouth embarrassingly. It was futile, she couldn't stop the stupid look radiate from her face. {I guess that idiot isn't such a complete idiot after all.}

Joe didn't spend more than a fraction of a second to gloat. Terry diverted his attention from Clark and saw that Joe had his yellow jacket in his hand.

…

{His coat... that when he…}

…Joe sucked in all the air his lungs could take. He kept it all in until his rib cage showed through the skin on his chest and spun around, braced himself onto a barstool and flew towards Clark.

…

"KUROSUCHIYAROZE!" I'm'agonnakillyou! With that, Joe threw his jacket over Clark's head. Darkness.

{Can I one day, may I have the JOY of enraging a man, and make him run to me this way – as if nothing else ever mattered tomorrow?} she thought. Where the only thing he looked at was me. Where the only thing in the world that mattered was he and I.

Joe ran to Clark. He weaved his fingers together and put them over the back of Clark's neck that was shrouded by his yellow jacket. Joe pulled Clark's head down with his entire body weight and preceded to mash his face and chest with multiple, point blank bludgeons of his knee. ONE… ONE.. ONE THEN TWO.

"SHI-NE! DIE! Shi-Ne Shi-Ne Shi-Ne!" Joe thundered, THRUSTING each knee purposely into his enemy's diaphragm.

Yuri didn't realize it at first but her right hand had hovered above her chest and lay on her heart to steady a beat that she couldn't fully understand. Yuri's heart and mind beat in a rising tempo. Joe, ordinarily filled with corny jokes and driven constantly with an idiotic manner, was a completely different man now. To him, surely and clearly, no one else existed here. It was just a world with him and Clark – the man he DESPISED so much. It was so preposterous that Joe's carnal determination somehow touched a part of her body. Even if it was something wild and destructive, it was a pure emotion that was unsoiled by inhibition and doubt. If a man were to one day, she thought, look at her with those kinds of eyes; she doubted that she could keep herself standing upright.

Perhaps it was something similar to a sensation women understood very clearly.

A world meant... a world meant only for two.

Here, the lines between love and hatred had become blurry and without meaning.

At his limit, the last knee smash rocked Clark's body.

Finally Joe released his hold on the back of Clark's neck and let his hands balance in the air in front of him. His fingers were all sticking out to balance himself as he cocked his right knee back. Faster and with more destructive momentum than a golf club, Joe's knee flew up – as powerful as it swung skywards, he swung with its championship blow. Making Clark stumble back with that yellow jacket still covering his head and obstructing his vision.

"MADA MADA..." It ain't over yet... Joe sneered.

Joe put his clenched fist by his side, and slowly the air around it started to blur. There was a light gust of wind that progressively got wilder as the power in Joe's hand increased.

"KOREDEMO KURAYE!" Joe roared the flames arising. "HI-saaatsu…" The Desperation move... "HURRAAAAKEEEN Pun..."

"Joe! STOP, You'll destroy the place! JOE!" Yuri cut Joe in mid sentence.

AH.

"A..." Joe stopped and processed Yuri's simple command; before he could decide on his next course of action, Clark was slowly stood up from his slouch. Joe cursed his indecisiveness, and put his hands on the easy.

Joe's yellow jacket slipped down off of Clark's head, exposing his gleaming smile. Joe stood flabbergasted, none of his hits had connected. Clark's bruised arms were completely wrapped over his torso.

Joe thought hard how he could've missed, he was sure he had knocked Clark's hands clear off their paths for him to reorient them in his choreographed dance.

"Do I have to call HIM?" Clark grunted, talking to himself. "Do I have to?"

"The fuck!?"

Normal fighting should be enough. If I call HIM, you are going to die.

This stance reminded her of bamboo. Their beauty was in their movements – how they swayed in the spring breeze and dance in the winter storm, but no matter what obstacle, they will never fell. Be it be the east, south, west, or north wind, they will not topple. They dance with the winds, in no one direction, no specific manner, however... A simple beauty that withstood the test of time. The defense was strong and reliable, instead of blocking attacks they redirected them and remained standing. They are invincible, showing no sign of weakness.

Joe cringed in frustration. Joe jumped back twice leaving 10 feet between himself and Clark. Once again feinting a reverse roundhouse kick.

BUT you can't use the same trick twice. Joe was too far away to even hit Clark, this much the blonde haired man knew instinctively.

Clark did not even respond to the initial attack.

Breaking from the spinning kick half way – he was not meaning for the heel kick to kit Clark's face, Joe squatted down, willing his thighs to let it all out. As the springs in his legs uncoiled Joe exploded in flames one last time, his final burst of energy. From the roundhouse Joe SWITCHED completely to another move.

"TAIGAAA KICK!" Joe called, as he executed his flying vertical knee crash, aimed for Clark's midsection.

Clark put his palm on the back of his other hand and guarded his chest, bracing himself for the coming onslaught.

{Can I one day enrage a man, to feel this sensation…}

The pressure around Joe's sky rocketing knee pulled his skin tight, turning it white before bursting one last time to a roaring fire. Clark centered his open palms ready to catch Joe's attack squarely. The attack was too slow and it would be impossible for Clark to not catch it.

{COME ON! COME ON! Block Tiger Kick, if you do it at this range, you'll break every bone in your goddamn arm, I'LL SEND YOUR BONES UP THROUGH YOUR SHOULDERS!} Joe growled inside.

{UNPARALLELLED by any other.} she wrapped her hands around herself, she warped her mind in a warm embrace - clawing tightly.

[ALLUSION] of greatness.

If you continue reading, then, your mind will be destroyed. "Why did he.."? she…

…

"Do I do it?" Clark asked out loud. "You can't SEE him can you?" Clark asked again.

Amidst the sound of popping and crackling, a small childrens voice softly whispered behind King's ear. "Do you rebmemer me?" Shocking King's face into a twisted visage she had once thought long forgotten.

No. I don't need HIM to fight this man! Clark sneered, his face transformed into a clown like mask and his lips sewed shut taught with string grinning wide as the blood dripped down his lips when his opposing dimples reached up his cheeks. I can fight this man without HIM.

…

Clark's hands moved.

The fingertips broke away from the weaving grip from each other, then around silently, to that one place and Joe suddenly realized that he had stopped in mid air.

[PRETENTIOUS] this story has no meaning. I never expected it to have any.

All of this has no meaning… Why is life filled with confusion? {she said}

This story is pretentious.

{Ba..bakana!} Impossible! Joe gasped as he realized he was floating defenseless in mid air.

Instead of taking the impact, Clark had dodged to the side and grabbed hold of Joe's shin with both hands.

"KONO!" YOU! Joe stuttered.

To Clark, Joe's helpless wail didn't even merit a response.

Clark heaved with all his strength, turning his body round and round like a top, Clark, with his hands again on Joe's ankles giant swung to keep pace with the revolving world… and slammed Joe's back into a pillar with enough force to make a lesser man snap in two. Joe's eyes widened at the ungodly pain that knocked his entire being out of his body, vomiting his soul out his mouth. Reversing the momentum Clark held fast onto Joe and spun him the other direction. Clark twisted his ankle and now Joe's limp body swung over Clark's shoulder in an arc. To Clark, Joe was a sledgehammer thundering into the floor.

SLAMMED. The spittle floated upwards from the impact… slowly… Joe couldn't believe but all he could mutter was gurgles. All the air had been knocked out of him and Joe couldn't move, he felt the life being sucked out of him slowly.

{Shit.} Clark mumbled as he regained control.

Joe tried to shiver, jerk to convince himself that he was still alive, but to no avail. END. Clark approached him, grabbed a fistful of hair to pull Joe's lifeless head backwards and picked him up by the wrist, and slinged the lifeless body over his own shoulders. Clark then fixed his gaze onto Terry.

"Well..." Clark said flatly.

"No, you've won, it's over." Terry said calmly.

Clark said as he flinged Joe's body to Terry who caught the bulk in his arms.

"He lost." Terry accepted, and slapped at his friend's face to wake Joe up, paying no more attention to Clark.

...

The crowd of people silenced themselves from their bickering about the fight and proceeded with their own conversations. The hysteria calmed and the fighters just looked at each other, not knowing what to say next. Joe started to move a little, and tried to look up.

The blurry haze slowly took hold, even if didn't want to accept it, he said it anyways…

"King..." Joe said hesitantly, his speech stammered because his mind could hardly catch up.

"You idiot!" King scolded the beaten Joe. "I told you not to cause any trouble in Bijoux. I hate you!" She heaved her body over the bar at Joe.

This was the final blow, and Joe couldn't understand what Terry was screaming. He didn't understand: "JOE, No, don't sleep, wake up! SKAISHIRO YO! MEO SAMASE!"... This was the final blow, from King and Joe lapsed into the darkness.