The Colour Purple Chapter 65: Ippatsuya, a king of fighters fanfic

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

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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]

Captain Yamashita was only 10 years old in 1970. Back then, she was pupil to the earlier 8th Yagami captain – Captain Masao. Captain Masao, disillusioned by the Yagami creed, defected to Kusanagi palace. However, ironic as it may seem, Kusanagi treated him no better, and perhaps more cruel than Yagami ever did. Then, in 1980, Yoshiki Kusanagi entrusted Masao, and another Kusanagi ninja, Mikaido, as I heard, to Eiji Kisaragi's protection in what was to become their last mission – when Kisaragi asked for Kaori Kusanagi's hand in marriage.

However in the end, Kusanagi betrayed all three, he, who had no intent to grant Eiji Kaori Kusanagi's hand in marriage even in exchange for Iori Yagami's life. At the expense of Captain Masao and Ninja Mikaido's life in battle, Eiji Kisaragi returned to Kusanagi for his wife. In exchange Eiji owed a [favour] to Yagami for sparing his life.

In 1980, Eiji married Kaori Kusanagi.

…and in 1983 Kusanagi's brother, Saishyuu Kusanagi, Kaori's uncle MURDERED Kaori Kusanagi for its family's honour.

In 1980 that was the first time that Eiji experienced this phenomena before you, now called [HAKAI] – meaning DESTRUCTION. At the expense of both of their lives, by some ridiculous twist of fate unfolded a phenomenon called HAKAI, wherein three souls could coexist in a single body. This phenomena, brought about by a body driven to a near death experience could overcome the flesh bound weaknesses of a man. Able to surpass human limitations, Eiji, Mikaido, and my Captain's master surpassed all limits – and would defy the laws of [Heaven and Earth]. H.E.

Mayhaps, part of what fascinates the Captain about Kisaragi, is why, her Master, one she looked up to so fondly, would give up his life for such a crass, and lack luster man.

…

"Are you listening to me, Mister Billy?" 3 twisted over his left shoulder to the British boy. "I will not repeat it twice." The boy pushed his brass spectacles up his nose – in similar – like – fashion.

"Ey," Billy replied, "I got ye. I guess I understand a little bit more. Why. Why that old man is such an ASSHOLE." Billy grit his teeth and smiled to the ninja named '3', who was so gracious to share with him such a wholesome bedtime story. "…and I can't blame that BITC…"

Billy stopped mid-step when he saw 3's hard gaze look back at him, furious, daring him even, to complete his thought. "I mean…" Billy coughed. "I don't blame your BOSS for wanting to beat the SHIT out of Eiji," Billy shrugged his shoulders with a sneer.

I think I understand a little bit more now… but someone has to kick that old man's ass, good and proper.

…

Masao wrapped the fingers of his right hand over his left cracked his knuckles, and absentmindedly – by some familiar habit switched them over and cracked the other set. He closed his eyes and tilted his head down, giving himself a better grip of the muscles at the back of his neck and shoulder. By twisting back and forth he was able to soothe the tension in his weary muscles. He didn't look up and idly stared at the broadsword in his hands that he unsheathed half way.

"You have a job to do, girl." He said softly but firmly.

Yamashita, of short stature and only 13 years old now stood in front of her master with her hands at her sides, not daring to move.

With a satisfying click, his short Chinese broadsword was locked in its sheath and rested in its home, tip up and handle down, under his arm and on his back. He carried his sword in a peculiar fashion, on his back and upside down. One day they would call this style of concealed carry a 'Dundee Rig'.

"I am sorry to have to burden you with this, but there is no one else I can turn to." Held only by friction and the interlocking lips of a hard yet malleable thermoplastic sheath, hanging upside-down on ones back was the quickest way to deploy a large concealable blade.

I know; it is okay to be afraid.

Masao clenched both his fists and took a deep breath – he looked upwards and stretched his arms low but wide, arching his back like a morning chore. He took in a breath, held it there and remained still even as he slowly exhaled. "I know, it is okay to be afraid."

Time quickly lapsed and the now 16-year-old girl bit her lip under her mask, her furrowed brows painted a confusing picture, of frustration, of anger, or mayhaps was it something else - somewhat like a secret held only by two?

"Yamashita." Masao said to the small and pitiful girl, "When you feel anxious, afraid, or if you inevitably begin to doubt yourself," he said. "Just think of what you set yourself out to do," he said in his low gruff voice, "Think of how much time you spent, and how much effort and the many sacrifices you endured to prepare for this day."

…and if you remember these things, and keep it close to your heart, you may be able to surpass all obstacles and perhaps, accomplish your goal.

"You have a job to do, and sadly, you only have one chance – and you must not fail." Masao rolled his shoulders forward and relaxed his spine as he took a left step forward, curling his right arm under, behind him and wrapped each of his fingers slowly, purposely, one by one, around the hilt of his weapon. Sorry, it is time, I wish we could talk longer, my dearest sword.

Masao locked his thumb. "Are you ready? Ninja Captain Shiki?"

As if to answer the challenge, Yamashita stepped forward one pace with her left foot. "I am ready, my Master." The 16 year old girl took one step forward before the brittle memory of her image crumbled as it approached the light in front of her…

"Did you say something, Captain?" 1 said in a confused tone behind Yamashita as he finished tying the knot on his captain's mask.

"Nothing." Yamashita said dryly. "I was simply dreaming." With her mask on now, the salty tear that had found freedom was once again captured. {I just remembered a name I once forgot so long ago.}

"Captain, we can stop this. Please." 1 reasoned with her. "We can call it a draw and all six of us can somehow hold Eiji back. You both need to see the doctor."

"Thank you for the mask, 1, but you need to move away right now." She commanded. "We have kept our guest waiting long enough.

Eiji's stone cold, body, shoulders hunched forward let out a hollow groan – slight yellow embers floated in front of his face, and with his blank lifeless orbs looked up to face the woman as her pupil took a cautious step back as he was ordered to. Hakai.

Are you ready?

Eiji's mouth opened but other than a vast emptiness like the deafening sound of a vast, deserted cave; no sound came out.

I am ready.

No wait – allow me. I already know you well enough Eiji, that I know what you want to say. Yamashita slowly lifted her fragile right arm in front of her face and like the Chinese kung-fu movies waved her four, neat fingers standing side by side, inwards - goading her enemy. "Kakkatteki-na." She snarled – with her venomously slit eyes, and her vicious gleam under her mask. COME AND GET IT!

…

I am your SWORD… and YOU, are my Master.

…

Chapter 65: Ippatsuya (the one hit wonder)

A S.U.M. of. 11.

Shin.

"Shin. Zantetsu Tourou… Ken." Was the sound that finally crept from Eiji's lips.

"Zantetsu Tourou Ken?" 3 repeated, utterly flabbergasted. "Kisaragi's final Super Desperation Move?!" But, it was probably the most logical choice. Eiji was a toy soldier now, and nonchalantly like the zombie he was, he took one step forward with his right foot, then stopped. He twisted his foot by the ankles and anchored his toes plainly into the ground by rolling at the balls of his feet. True – Yamashita – and Eiji at this point, each, only had enough energy left in their mortal bodies to unleash one blow, like sudden death.

Like dueling gunslingers in the wild wild west, the two of them stared each other down, each placating a visage that exuded a careless, indifferent attitude. However, all six of her boys could not help but tense at their lower backs, unwilling to make even the slightest movement.

{Eiji's final attack… but why..?} 1 thought. {Why even bother to announce it to us?}

{To call out your next and final move, then stay motionless?} 6 continued the boys' symbiotic train of thought. {Captain will simply block it.}

{Yes. By telegraphing your next move, all that Captain has to do is BLOCK. Even with her broken arm, all she need do is cross her arms across her abdomen to repel your force… and while you recover from the failed move, she will use what is left to PUNISH you.} 3 punctuated the obvious. By doing so, Kisaragi, you have simply guaranteed your attack a 0% chance of success. Captain has 100% chance at a counterattack.

Perplexed and confused, the camera focused on 3's twitching brow and the uneasy sensation that resonated in the beat of his temples. "It is so simple, and plain to see." 3 uttered. He repeated the thoughts to himself, he played and replayed the images of Eiji's attack moving forward, just as it would meet his Captain head on, only to succumb to her defense, then finally her counter attack that would put him to sleep. "It does not make sense." The boy's world demanded simple clockwork logic – preposterous notions had no place here. He said to himself. All she has to do now is block – perhaps 3 should be relieved and this story would end finally after this long drawn out struggle. 3 curled his lower lip up and bit down, but before he could finally accept the truth that seemed to be unreasonable, he turned his head to the one side. Ah. Then a warm feeling ran up and down his spine, relieving the tension that had built up moments before. From the corner of his eye – just at the edge of his spectacles, the world almost began to grow blurry…

"Ah. I see." 3 breathed a sigh of relief. "You would not have it any other way, would you, Captain?"

The answer that lay in wait was Yamashita cocking back her taught right fist just past her temple. Like drawing a bow, her limp left arm trembled in front of her face and her right fist held itself back just behind her eye with a passionate tension – ready to explode. Yamashita held her open left palm up in front of her weakly, its purpose was simply to judge distance, and her right would be a single blow to deliver what little strength she had left. COME! COME TO ME! I WILL SHOW YOU HOW STRONG I HAVE BECOME.

…to accomplish the one job she had to do.

Had you simply taken the low road, the simplest, logical, easiest choice – BLOCK his SDM then counter at your easy leisure, you would have been guaranteed 100% success. But instead. SO foolish a woman. You chose this road instead – and reduced your chance of success to 25%. Ah yes.

Does Eiji understand YOU too? Was that why he challenged you?

Ah yes – you would not have it any other way would you. [Ninja Master Yamashita.]

A slow trance – silent whistling of wind rushing through our toes… and then…

ARE YOU READY, MY SWORD!? Eiji's left leg shot forward; then; his body was gone. The air and falling flower petals feverishly swirled into the vacuum he left behind.

"CAPTAIN!"

"Yamashita."

"Zantetsu Tourou Ken."

An ear-piercing shriek grew so loud before it made everyone who listened, instantly fall into a stupor of deafness. At the last instant, Eiji appeared two feet from Yamashita's face, then the world turned and drove itself into Yamashita's shrinking pupils up until the point that the blackness enveloped them both. Rely not on your eyes, this much the tasks of time has taught you – Yamashita's eyelids dropped to shut out the illusions presented before her vision. The beat. The BEAT of the ground, of the air, and the Earth. Trust your ears as your eyes deceived you.

Her left hand served only one purpose; it shook as it felt the breeze run across the voids in between her fingers. Then. "RAUGH!"

Starting from her hips, up her back, each vertebrae transmitting a message from one to another, up her shoulders then, finally Yamashita opened her eyes, like a rage thirsting for water she knew that she had one simple task to do. She would have it no other way, but to grasp an end to a story despite it only having 25% chance of success.

Right cross.

Yamashita's right fist, like a bullet launched forward.

Her wish, was to… we all… We all wanted to justify our purpose in the world… and she did so with THIS PUNCH. A punch, that spanned the time of 20 some aught years to finally find its long awaited destination.

The colours of the world around her soon became drab, plain and lifeless. Yamashita's face degenerated into a sketch work picture of black and white, the pencil lines scratching and shaking violently in the moving canvas. SHE closed her eyes at the moment her arm reached the limits of extension – when she imagined her fist strike home and end his master's friend's suffering.

You are not the greatest man alive. Let this be. Let this be the end of suffering. Let this be the end of loneliness. …then even the monochrome sketches that drew still life we saw was enveloped by a bright blinding white.

…

We are all CHARACTERS in the world – and we ALL have purpose, despite what everyone else says – despite how much everyone we knew tried to push us down.

Her left hand served only one purpose; it trembled as it felt the breeze run across the voids in between its fingers. As she had predicted, Eiji's left foot planted themselves into the hard ground just a short distance from Yamashita's outstretched left 'trap', but a cynical chuckle, a gleam and a smile – Eiji broke the rhythm of his stride. In the stillness he pulled both arms up and placed both palms unto an invisible wall to stall his momentum to just swerve his right leg around. By this time, Eiji had already figured it out – Yamashita had already and completely memorized the rhythm of his movements, so, the response was particularly simple. All he had to do was to stall his flow and stop, even for a second to disrupt the tempo that echoed in his mind.

It was so simple that it became absolutely laughable. To surpass the limits of human ability, even inertia had no consequence to his flesh. Eiji paused, and instead of planting his right foot in front of his left, he quite simply held still, anchored his weight with his rear foot and took two consecutive steps with his left foot. Tap tap, entering a half beat. A sound so piercing to the ears like the carnally painful scratching of a record player, Eiji interrupted the sequence.

In slow motion, for all to see, Yamashita, brave, and confident – paying no heed to anxiety and invulnerable to the concept of regret - slowly launched her right fist forward.

SHIN.

"Zantetsu Tourou Ken."

Defying the rules of inertia, Eiji twisted his left leg a horrendously severe angle clockwise, just like his departed friend, Mikaido, had once showed him.

From 60 miles an hour to zero, Eiji's tendons, sinews and ligaments of Eiji's left leg twisted like a corkscrewed towel to freeze his body almost instantaneously just at the precise moment where he could feel his heart hit a brick wall and all his blood rush up to his brain. …and as per his command, Eiji witnessed a phantom specter, a ghostly image of his left leg clone itself and take another step, third forward. The Shin Zantetsu Tourou Ken's special ability was to deliver a final attack by cloning your body and by defying physics, gave birth to a phantom – unconditional reincarnation - an illusion which possessed mass that…

Ah. Eiji's pupils spun on its axis and shrank into pinpoints.

Eiji instantly felt the pressure and tension that kept his body upright suddenly reach a state of emptiness just when all the gauges of a race car instantly clatter and point to zero. Perplexed and confused he did not feel the splatter of glowing yellow blood absolutely bleach the dark navy blue mask on his face when his left knee ruptured at the joint and bled a golden geyser skyward.

The loneliness is now gone, and now the warm lights come on.

I… I do not want to lose.

…

Yamashita's face degenerated into a sketchwork picture of black and white, the pencil lines scratching and shaking violently in the moving canvas. Se closed her eyes at the moment her arm reached the limits of extension – when she imagined her fist strike home and end his master's friend's suffering.

However, when hurt pours like rain, and courage drifts away, Yamashita felt nothing at the end of her knuckles. Ah. That sound again from her parted lips said, and Yamashita opened her eyes. At the end of her fist was nothing – as she had expected. Then the world began to move again when the warmth of her blood revealed itself in the colour of her irises. Yamashita, petrified, stood with her right hand outstretched – but sadly she concluded as such that she had failed and never reached her destination.

She exhaled out her mouth, accepting her failure that was only bolstered by the silence. In a split second Eiji's right hand, that much she knew would plant itself into her diaphragm and deliver her to a place of bitter defeat. Yamashita faced down, tucked her jaw into her shrugging shoulders, grit her teeth and clenched her eyelids to accept the blow.

However.

…

"Thank you." A familiar voice said as it disintegrated into a white nothing.

…

The 8th Ninja Captain's downward cast eyes peeled open once again, and while her body lay frozen in space with her right arm stretched outwards, she saw beneath her was Eiji's body, arms forward and spasming legs splayed open helpless. Her opponent's fist trembled in angst grabbing clumps of soil squeezing so hard they wanted to extract red blood from the Earth.

The sentences in Yamashita's blank thoughts were punctuated by Eiji's hoarse breathing as he came back into life. The yellow blood flowed from both his knees and covered the ground under them a golden hue of yellow.

Yamashita now, tilted her skull back and pulled her shoulders back. She sucked in air to replenish the life she had lost from being submerged underwater for five minutes past. Then finally she exhaled to end her nervous breakdown of breathing.

With one step then two, she walked towards Eiji's defenseless body. With his belly down Eiji barely had enough energy to twist his torso to the side and look up at the captain. His eyes snarled, still defiant and unwilling to accept defeat. Eiji Kisaragi jabbed all five fingers into the soil and believing he could, his body spasmed as the COMMANDED his legs to move with an unvetoable decree.

Yamashita lowed her body and knelt on one knee, looking down condescendingly at her opponent that squirmed under her. "NO!" Eiji shouted. "No, not yet… DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

Her reply was her limp left palm on top of his head, pushing it down with her entire weight into the dirty disgusting Earth. "Yamashita!" Eiji roared, his lips defiantly carving a small crevice into the ground. "KAORI!"

"Eiji…" Yamashita said calmly with sorrowful and weak eyes. "Otonashiku…" Please. Just shut up… She lifted her right fist up… "Neterou!"

…and be quiet.

Yamashita piledrove her right fist with the every last ounce of her strength into Eiji's temple. The thunderclap folded the white, immaculate paper thin silence in [this house].

…and then… darkness.

a Sequence of Uneventful Mornings part 11

You need not span this journey alone. My dear friend. For. Even when the clutches of time had its wicked ways with us. We, your friends, still… be true.