The Colour Purple Chapter 79: The Black Noah, 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 2016]

"In 1971," Dr. Richard Chan pulled off the cap of a black dry erase marker and placed a single dot in the center of the whiteboard in front of him, swirling the tip until a small bold circle came to crisp focus - then he put that black plastic cap back on the felt tip pen with a satisfying click. "…Something happened."

A Sequence of Uneventful Mornings, part 13.

I will continue to destroy every last one of them – until there will be no reason to fight anymore.

…

"Thank you, Clark."

"Knight. Sir." Clark replied after pulling the garbage can in his hands up against the curb in this cold winter evening. "Yes sir."

"You are our guest, you need not do that." Knight said to the boy.

[The Knight]

The 3rd day. December 22, 1977.

"No, it's the least I can do for the madam, sir." Clark replied with a smile.

[The Rook]

"You're a good man, Clark." Knight said, pulling up a cardboard caddy of 5 bottles in his hand as an offering. "Are you sure you don't want one?" Knight said, the old man still determined in his own friendly way to drive the young child into a dark life of alcoholism.

Clark smiled, wiping his dirty hands over his pants and put his left palm up. "No, but thank you sir." He said. "I…" Clark stopped mid thought as he heard a peculiar, mayhaps a familiar sound. It was a short, silent 'beep' that echoed from far away it sounded so peculiar like it – it was a disembodied mechanical tone that almost felt like it came from the back of his skull.

The boy could not pinpoint the sound, and he turned round left and right in confusion.

Beep… …That small, meek sound echoed in his head like it came muffled from under a pillow from the far reaches of a wide-open field.

"What's wrong?" The Knight asked, confused.

"Can't you hear it? This sound, like, like a…"

Like a dream, one that mocks you – like it will never end.

Knight put his 5 pack on the table next to him and scratched his cheek. "Oh," he said. "It's that." He said. "I'm surprised you don't know what it is." Knight said as he scratched the stubble on his cheek. "It's that… It's that." He said pointing upwards.

Clark absent-mindedly followed Knight's index finger up and up in the sky he saw a large black oval float overhead. Red, white and blue lights blinked like sparking stars twinkled around it as it floated ever so slowly in the sky. Like stones on a lonely roadway, leaving a trail of glimmering lights – just so memories would one day remember they once existed.

Knight popped a bottle in his hand and offered it to the young boy. "Here." He said.

Clark made no motion and just looked at the man, unsure of what to do next and how best to refuse the gift.

"This one is ginger ale, boy." Knight grinned. "I won't force you anymore, tonight."

The 52nd year of Showa.

Clark coughed as he chuckled. "Thank you, sir Knight."

In 1977, up in the sky, a dark shape floated and made its way round and round.

"Is that," Clark locked his neck in that awkward position looking up in the sky and said, "that sound? What is it?" Pointing at that mass that flew overhead.

"I don't know." Knight said. "…and Clark, I don't really care. That thing's been flying up in the sky for as long as I've been in NHK. Probably 10 years now."

Everyone who lives in New Hong Kong has probably learned to ignore those sounds.

"Oh…" Clark said as he gawked up at that strange black object that floated in the sky. "Aren't you curious? Can't Great Britain tell you what it is?"

"I don't know, and I don't really care, Clark," Knight laughed. "I don't really care," he shrugged. "Everyone in the City can't even hear the sound anymore after all these years."

You boys should really stop staring at the ground so much – stop playing with your toy guns and for a change, look up to the sky once in a while.

"Oh?" Clark stared upwards, absolutely captivated by the blinking lights, at that dark mass that effortlessly seemed to glide in the heavens, oblivious to everyone who stared at it. A small trapezoid was suspended from a multitude of cables from a large black coloured balloon. Clark, when not distracted by the lightly blinking lights, if he tried hard enough could see small propellers twisting and turning…

Do you know, that the Rook's true purpose – is to defend the King?

"Did you say something, sir?" Clark asked.

"Nothing, Clark." Knight smiled softly and took another hearty swig of his beer. "That's natural, gourmet soda, boy. How is it?"

Clark put the bottle on his mouth and took a mouthful of ginger ale. The sweet yet spicy flavour tingled in his mouth and painted a radiating smile.

"It's delicious, sir."

A black canopy drifted over the Knights smiling face, then as the camera turned, so did it cover Clark's face too.

"That's good."

A dark shadow floated… up in the sky, and it watched over us, like an ominous God.

High above, a dark shadow floated…

…

The 50th year of Showa – 1975. Winter.

It was cold enough that she could see her breath waft in front of her mask. Yamashita, now fifteen, stood bored, standing guard all alone above the East gate that evening. She ran her hands annoyingly up and down both her biceps, patting the dirt away from her uniform.

"Is it that cold?"

"No, Captain." She was quick to respond sternly to Captain Masao whose lone voice came from the empty darkness behind her without warning. She rubbed a both her hands across her upper arms violently and continued to look outwards, scouting the perimeter, her breath now smoke ribbons curling around her face as she turned back and forth to herself.

…

I did not move. I forced my body to stay still, pretending that the old man behind me had not just snuck behind my back without my knowledge. My shoulders tensed but I commanded them to calm and relax as to not give my surprise away. I just pretended that his presence was inconsequential to me. As I looked back at it all now, I feel a pang of sorrow and slight regret.

…

Masao grinned under his mask. Yamashita's eyes blared wide when a heavy, tattered brown blanket fell over her and covered her head and shoulders. The cloth over his face moved a simple way and her Master's voice was a welcome break from the dark silence that night. She replied, her eyes did not break from the glasslike cold stare back at her master, her arms curling that thick blanket over her body, making small talk that was inconsequential. Speaking – arguing – then laughing, was so much better than being lonesome. When their voices littered the quiet night sky, their conversation was quiet and voiceless to the audience that laid in wait, and they observed, teacher and student, with light melancholy.

Then Masao said… Yamashita held in her tracks and finally turned to him, staying there, with her arms gripping her biceps hard, staring back at her master.

"…and that is my decision, Yamashita."

Yamashita felt her stomach curl into knots, and the base of her spine tense and crack from a bitter tension. She took a step forward. Yamshita's hands released their deathly grip from her biceps and floated upwards. She let out a long breath and, with her stomach trembling, grit her teeth. One then two steps, she had now found herself just two feet away from Masao, pushing her body through a hard brick wall. The picture in her mind was a fine line between a pastel veil of peace and a splattered crimson disarray. Her entire body tensed, and finally she could not help but let go – Yamashita hunched down then launched her body up…

As she was about to part her lips to speak, a…

BEEP. The ghostly, echoing sound that seemed to resonate between their ears filled the space in between them. Yamashita pulled her foot back and simply said nothing, holding her gaze at her master. All the while, a dark shadow drifted over and consumed their bodies.

This is when, this was when I slightly felt a feeling, and I think I, just a moment, finally understood – its true purpose – why they refused to let us take off these masks - these masks that IMPRISONED us.

Beep. A slight twinkling of lights pebbled the sky with a bright light that competed with the stars for supremacy, and that mechanical tone was the only thing to be heard.

Yamashita turned around and placed both hands on the edge of the low wall by the perimeter of the roof. Her fingertips, driven to the edge of insanity pierced the hard concrete. As much as we crept forward and tried, so no one could hear the words that slowly ebbed out of Yamashita's lips.

"…Are you a sword? Or…?" The only true witness was that fortress, separate from time, that flew across the sky. Where did we go wrong? Our existence was simply defined – by a single question. Her trembling, curling knuckles were slowly covered by a dark shadow.

LOYALTY and DUTY. These are among the highest noble of truths a human mind can understand. Yet there comes a time when these two things could come into conflict. Through this CONFLICT - is the time when a person truly defines itself.

And separates itself from all others…

A shadow, that existed, yet was lost in time, and a soft, tender wish…

Where… Just where, where did I, where did, we, go wrong!?

…

A dark shadow, amidst the tall noonday sun draped over Billy Kane's head – and this shadow – the sun spanning across the sky was enough to touch the back of his neck with a cool breeze. A light whisper raced past his ear. "Why? Was everything you taught me..." This was enough to make Billy turn in curiosity and look up, his left palm covering the glare from the sun that made his eyes squint.

And the clouds floated from one side to the next, breaking the calm cool light pastel blue that painted a still, wonderful picture above him. Amidst that perfect blue was a small dark object that had small spinning propellers one could barely see unless he was looking carefully, purposely and intently, that seemed so out of place. An afternoon in 1993, the 5th year of Heisei. A large balloon. "Like the GoodYear blimp." Billy Kane said unconsciously. Slender cables under it suspended a small trapezoidal thing.

In 1993, two years before 1995, up in the sky, a dark shape floated and made its way round and round, the globular shape looked like a black hot air balloon that wandered aimlessly in the heavens. "It's almost…"

It crossed over, cleaving the clouds abiding by nothing else but its own rules…

Chapter 79: The Black Noah

A Sequence of Uneventful Mornings, part 13.

…

"I am defecting to Kusanagi."

The 55th year of Showa. In 1980.

Even the silvery moonlit night could not help but be eclipsed by that object that spanned the sky. The bird's eye view from up high saw a horde of 30 strong skip over the rooftops as easily as sheep crossed busy intersections blindly, speckling the Earth beneath like ants that amassed into a dark cloud. Yagami ninjas all at once rushed to the center of the complex towards the palace on command.

"There's a third one! Hurry!"

"Get back to the palace! Yagami commands it!"

"There's a THIRD KUSANAGI!"

Ever since I first laid eyes upon you…

One by one the balls of their feet hit the concrete on those roofs, hurtling their bodies up like the steady beat of teardrops. Tak! Whish! Tak! One by one they leapt up as easy as you and I would walk in the park and launch their bodies back to the center of that vast kingdom.

…I knew a frightening beast dwelled within your body…

However even as one by one the soldiers leapt towards the West in order to protect their master, one body crossed their visions and leapt the opposite direction. A single fish that defied the flow of twilight that rushed to one side, when her toes stabbed the pool of rain under her feet, droplets floated up peacefully; She pushed through their bodies to the East and cleaved through a dense sea of Yagami ninjas. In that dark evening sea of ravenous monsters.

"Hey! Hey you!" A voice said in mid flight. "Yagami is…

This battlefield was where you belonged. This much I knew, even from the start.

With her hands pumping like hydraulic pistons up and down, one body cut her way through that mass and paid no heed to everything around her. To her – nothing mattered.

Nothing else matters.

Pushing bodies to the side as she flew and met them in mid-air, jumping, her legs folding and stumbling, she grabbed their bodies like she was drowning and pulled them down into the dark water ruthlessly. NOTHING EVER MATTERED, even in her haste she found her knees and elbows scraping onto the ground, she still pushed herself up and kept running. She kept RUNNING. JUMPING. Running against the tide. A clarity, a distinct purpose. Nothing matters anymore. NOW. HERE. RIGHT HERE. AND. RIGHT. NOW.

5 years passed so quickly…

…To be a simple farmer's daughter – would be wasteful. A greater destiny awaited you.

Ninja Yamashita.

She was such in a manic rage, the girl's face fell to the ground when she landed upon the next rooftop and the concrete ground ripped into her face. Yet, she did not care and in the same propelled motion when she fell, she simply pushed both arms forward, tearing her now bloody fingertips, tumbled head over heel, then lifted her body upright and continued to run. RUN. Not caring for the abuse that battered her body when she scraped the floor and hurled her body onto walls in order to efficiently change direction. RUN. Run so hard and so fast – as if – as if…

…by doing so – she could.

Reverse the flow of time, and.

Change the future.

The ninja jumped, leapt over the blade's edge, her arms wide, her defiant 150 pound hard chiseled, top class, pure muscle body, and her legs pedaling an invisible bicycle mid air, she did not care if her bloody body was about to hit a hard wall on the next rooftop. Tearing her face on the ground was the quickest way to decelerate and hitting a hard wall was the easiest way to change direction. Every second she took in her travels was like a rancid evil poison that killed her.

With her 150 pound, pure muscle body, CHANGE THE FUTURE. Her eyes contracted to pin points, anticipating the hard impact.

"YAMASHITA! YAMASHITA TAI…!" A small boy, less than 10 years old leapt up and without fear from the rooftop off to the corner, he swung his hands when he fearlessly spanned buildings and just this one time wrapped his arms around his Captain's body in mid air – he tucked his shoulders forward and pulled his head in tight as she had taught him, putting his own flesh between the 20 year old Yamashita, bracing for the blow, and the brick wall she had launched herself into. The so very small 5 foot boy wrapped his arms around her and held tight as the woman he had devoted his life to jumped from rooftop to the next – "CAPTAIN!" he cried as he leapt up and met her mid air – it would probably be the only time he would ever be granted the privilege to do so and when he did, he did it willingly and without thought and care to himself. THIS INSANITY.

"AUGH!" The boy screamed when he felt his back impact the brick wall behind him and the back of is head hit the hard surface.

Yamashita curled the ninja boy's body over and callously used him as a shield to hit the wall, and without care pushed the boy to the side before jumping 90 degrees to the next rooftop to span from one building to the next.

"Yamashita Tai…" The small boy groaned as he cradled the back of his bleeding head. Way before his teenage years, the boy, for now, young boy who would one day be known simply as '1' leapt up in front of his Captain, "CAPTAIN!" Yamashita, 20 years old, ran across from one rooftop and fearlessly launched her flesh to the next. He had put his weak flesh and blood between her hard body running at full speed into the brick wall that protruded from that rooftop that she had leapt onto. Without even a moment's rest, cruel, she pushed off 1's body and kept running. The boy who would one day be called '1' hurtled back into the hard wall behind him. Gutting him and the crimson bursting from his mouth as he softened the captain's impact.

As the boy looked outwards, slowly and surely his captain's back grew smaller and smaller as she left him in that quiet rooftop.

"Yamashita Taichou!" the boy coughed when he felt the sting of his ribs dig into him as he sat all alone on the cold concrete, his back and into the brick wall. Ah… beep.

"Ah?" the boy who would one day be known as '1' looked upwards as he sat and propped his back against the wall. Up in the sky, a dark fortress flew overhead, watching when his pupils rolled across its sockets.

…

Yamashita had jumped from one rooftop to another when she heard the news; she had propelled her body so fast and forcefully, that her knees felt like they would break apart. Propelling her own body so feverishly she did not care if she could not stop. As she jumped from one perch to another she paid no heed to the damage to her body and simply let hard solid walls stop her momentum when she had to change direction towards her goal. Even at the abuse of her disciples' bodies Yamashita ran and jumped at full throttle like an uncaring racecar that rammed its chassis around the corners of the track just to selfishly get to the goal by all and any means necessary at the final desperate lap.

Please.

When she had heard that her master, Masao, has returned this night.

"Ma… Masao is by the East wall!" A voice said.

Please… PLEASE. Let me...

Masao, the ninja captain everyone but SHE had forgotten. Yamashita ignored the pain and bloody wounds on her body when she tumbled over the rooftops amongst Yagami palace. She even threw her body into hard concrete, for any caution would have slowed her down. She did not care if she had to trample over the dead bodies of her men, and pummel her own body.

{Please… let me reach you in time,} she cried. A rage, a rancid, disgusting thing.

"Why?"

Yamashita's right foot stabbed into a stagnant puddle then leapt up once again.

"Why? After everything you said…?"

DUTY and LOYALTY.

Oh how wonderful – and how laced in tragedy; oh how I missed you, my master.

"Was…?"

She pushed with both arms onto the ground, forcing her body up to continue running even if her spine threatened to snap in half and break.

"Was everything you taught me…"

Why do we have these masks? Eventhough we knew how this story was going to end.

"When you [asked] me that…"

The sewage and sludge, small drops of garbage floated in front of her face as she ran.

My Captain; OH, my Captain.

When adults belittled weak, and pitiful farmers' daughters.

As Ninja, if you only abide by ONE rule, as a ninja, you must never allow your mask to leave your face. This one defining rule – above loyalty amongst all else, except HONOUR, we always abided by. WHY, I always wondered deep inside, why do our rules mandate us to keep these cloth masks over our faces?

"Please." She sobbed. "Master!" Turning, swaying pinwheeling her arms circled round and round. PLEASE, WAIT FOR ME!

A pride that drives US masked villains over the simple woes of mortal men.

BECAUSE, if we let these masks fly free…

Yamashita's body hit the soil HARD, her face once again sullied by the dirt and grime when she fell from that last rooftop at the Easternmost side of the Yagami complex. She pushed herself over, tumbled on her back then up and ran forward in one fluid motion to a crowd of bodies at the Easternmost corner of the wall. A gang of evil men huddled amongst themselves there, a hungry mob some with drawn swords and others with flaming torches.

I AM HERE. I hear your scream. Each of her footsteps beat, beat so feverishly. I am here. "I am here!" The salty tears now ran down the side of the ninja girl's cheeks. "Master!" I miss you.

Because I miss you.

A crowd of purple clad bodies hunched in the corner with their backs turned to her.

Yamashita pushed her body up and thrust herself into a solid sprint. As she practiced again, over and over and over and over again, she folded her left arm across her body and gripped the hilt of her sword from her right shoulder and pulled the blade out. Then, with her right arm by her right hip, Yamashita grabbed the handle of the short 12" fighting blade that hung upside down in the Dundee rig across her lower back. When she did, red crimson blood misted the front of her eyes.

About one, no, two dozen bodies stood in front of her, back turned. With a sharp pull Yamashita pulled her sword out and cocked it as far as it would go behind her body.

The steel of twin blades illuminated the darkness behind her. This was where she belonged. In this place – her footsteps peppered the ground.

After so long. Yamashita gnashed her molars over each other under her mask.

After so long… you came back, my master. Are you?

Are you? Are you testing me?

Is this. Is THIS your final test? For near a decade of pain. Amidst all that. All those evenings, all those mornings, and all those lazy afternoons, has it come to this? Masao, the Captain never feared when the warm smile reflected in his eyes that was uncovered above his purple mask.

Will you TRY us? Will you TEST us?

You've come back to fight us.

Despite all your petty talk of bravery and loyalty, you one day walked away and left me, you defected to the enemy. You left Yagami and joined Kusanagi. WHY! WHY!?

Was everything, everything you taught me, wrong? Captain Masao!?

IF WE LET THESE MASKS FREE. Then, everything. Everything would lose meaning.

{You've come back – haven't you?} To TEST me?! Yamashita curled all ten fingers around the handles of her twin swords now drawn.

"Master…" Yamashita grit her teeth and continued to run forward towards the defenseless back of her comrades that stood huddled there. Her mouth tasted sour and salty.

If you dare test me. I will reply…

Even if you make the entire world your enemy. Yamashita gnashed her teeth that ripped and cracked. She. I. {EVEN IF YOU MAKE AN ENEMY OF THE ENTIRE WORLD…}

She swung her sword down, to hit the back of that one man's neck in front of her.

…

Loyalty, and duty.