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?"
Note to self: Legacy chapter numbering (32- - -), does not match. [Original chapter written 2016]
Ours is just a little sorrow. I will learn to survive. (Duran Duran, Wedding Album, Capitol Records, 1993).
I am, unable to feel ANYTHING.
Arashi no Hurricane. A storm of a hurricane. Tonight was 1993.
Two years after when the song was first released. A blonde haired boy had long forgotten and let time pass him by and when he heard that voice seep from that plastic tape recorder, before he knew it, he had already become a grown, bitter, old man of 29 years old.
Yuri felt, from deep inside her, a RAPTURE when she defied fate and in its wake, ripping the flesh around her heart, a sensation of victory that lifted her to an elevated sense of ecstasy.
I have WON; and you LOSE! CLARK STEEL!
…
HEY! 1977.
"Hey, boy…" December 24, 1977. The 6th day.
Clark, a small boy of 13 years old tilted his head up to his host. "Sir Knight."
Knight looked down at his guest, Clark, and even after 6 days of watching him be battered senseless by his own son, the Royal British Knight could not help but think – that this was something he had never seen before. Perhaps it was his fault. Perhaps he could no longer blame someone else. The look on Clark's face, was a different one – it was an emotion trapped between SADNESS, MORTIFICATION, DENIAL, DESPAIR and then, PEACE.
It had begun to rain. "We should go inside." Knight held a cardboard six pack of assorted beers in his left hand while he looked at the boy. Saying nothing after.
In like fashion the small boy replied silently, curling his head into his knees as he pulled his legs into fetal position. Each individual drop seemed to hit him independently at first, then rip down in a chaotic static haze.
Clark.
We should get inside – it's raining… That black blimp floated above-head.
The rain… it does not matter either way. Where I come from. Sunshine nor rain – neither held a significant difference to me… but… but… the rain does feel nicer. As it…
"Knight…" Clark said…
"What, Clark?" Knight replied. The heaven's tears now ran down the old man's cheeks… and intermingled with his own sweat…
"I think…" I think… "I think I will need that beer after all…
The 6th day.
The rain, like hateful words, touches ALL, without PREJUDICE.
Came in from a rainy Saturday, on the avenue…
…
Where is the life that I recognized – gone away. But now, it was still 1993.
Robert grit his teeth, seeping in the acidic saliva that covered his mouth and into his gums. Both his hands were wrapped around that porcelain throne, and for the last few days, he looked out at the dark tile wall in front of him – just as he gutted himself and threw up his insides; when he threw up that POISON from inside his body into the toilet that did not judge night by night.
"Hello, Robbie." The ghost sneered. "I have COME for you. Now." When you are weakest.
Robbie…
…
"Huugh!" Eiji grunted, he grit his teeth, pulling the lackluster polyester blanket around his toes then up his legs when he continued to watch old action moves on the couch – in 1993, taking comfort in the cold darkness as the glow from the, then, large television screen reflected on his cheeks in the dark living room. "Agh." The movie felt as sweet as it did 10 years ago.
Schwarzenegger, Stallone, Lundgren, Van Damme, Chow, Li… Within that darkness of that small room. When he tucked that blanket underneath his knees, he felt peace.
But I won't cry for yesterday, it's an Ordinary World. …and NO ONE could touch him. Here. Hours past midnight, before the television would die. In NHK.
…
Does the rain bother you, Clark?
…
Takuma Sakazaki leaned back and turning his face to the right ever so slightly, he looked upon that wine glass filled with a red liquid he promise he would not ever touch again – but – he poured that glass as a remembrance… to the stars.
…That sneered as they looked over us from the sky. When one by one they fell…
Here today, forgot tomorrow… Ours is just a little sorrow.
…when they fulfilled their DESTINY – one by one… without our knowledge.
…
In that small pantry closet, in that house, Billy looked up to the ceiling. Somehow I have to find. And if I try to make my way to the Ordinary World – Somehow, I will try to survive. But now, it was still 1993.
"Haagghh…" Billy wrapped his blanket over his head in frustration.
…
Knight, perhaps saddened that after all his efforts, he found himself offering solace in a bottle to the boy at this situation. How many boys had died, because of my arrogance? Because of my defiance and pride? By offering this to you – am I really absolving myself from sin?
Knight pulled a sweaty, cold bottle of craft beer he treasured from the six-pack he nurtured from his left hand… Mayhaps I constantly carry this 6-pack for the ghosts of all the boys who died.
BEFORE YOU.
Sound, by physics and science, arrives moments only after the light bleaches the sky.
At first it was darkness, then the lightning flashed behind him, the Knight's face appeared from the darkness into pure white. The tears peppering his face with water.
Promise me.
To follow, Clark hunched down, the radiating spark of lightning barely illuminated the stark look in his eyes – and a few seconds after, the boom of thunder made his existence real.
Clark's pale sky blue eyes met Knight's and locked them in.
"Promise me, Sir Knight… that you will NOT interfere, even if I kill your son…"
…or if I die. Promise that you will not try to save me.
With that in mind.
…Only then, can I be certain – and I can be sure, that I gave it my ALL.
Sir Knight… please promise me.
THIS. IS.
TO FIGHT [him]… IS.
THIS. IS. MY. DESTINY.
…destiny. When lightning enveloped him from behind. OH. This was true.
"Sir Knight…" Clark said weakly when he put his palms over his knees. RISING UP!
To fight King. THIS, is the only way I can FREE myself from this horrible, ordinary world.
Do you understand?
…
Hey hey,…
…
1993. "Did you miss me?" Clark smiled.
Yuri dug her hands into the inner pocket of her brown leather bomber jacket and pulled a hard brick that was hidden in the cowls of dark shadows. "You."
"Do you really, love, King?" The small tape recorder repeated in low resolution.
"No."
"No?" Yuri's voice repeated on that tape.
"I don't love King."
I FEEL… NOTHING, NOW.
Clark's voice – in that tape recorder repeated… That small box, made of cheap steel and plastic mocked him, "If you get in my way, I will kill you, Yuri Sakazaki. I will kill you, and all of your friends who made King this way." WHRRRRR… Then click, and then silence of static.
…
The FRIEND of decay is weakness. The ENEMY of apathy – is CONFLICT.
…
"If I…chicksschh… said… schhhhggghh" The voice that came out of that old 1977 Philips AL 071 Space Age transistor radio was scratchy and skipped, and despite being unbelievably inferior by today's standards, every word still echoed crystal clear in his mind.
"If I said, I could END all WAR, Clark Steel… Would you… Would you lay down your arms for me?" King said silently, quickly eating her words immediately as she mumbled them.
Shhcchhhhhghhhhh…
…
I warned you, 24 chapters ago...
If you continue along this lonely path… "You will not be able to feel anything." As much as your mortal body sacrifices - this road you tread upon will have nothing to give you in return, and everything you once strived for, will become useless, and irrelevant…
Soon. The notion of education. Accomplishment. Victory. Satisfaction. Regret. Animosity. Even the relief from torment. All those feelings will soon turn tasteless and bland.
"…and you will feel nothing." Except. "You will only feel… pain. Clark Steel."
Even if the world was plain and bland, to Clark, on Christmas day in 1977, the flavour had suddenly become sweeter than it was once before.
In my selfishness. Thinking ONLY of a higher purpose.
Was this?
Was this…? Was this the first time I made a conscious decision to become [evil]?
The END of La Bizarre Love Pentagon – part 16 –
Even when the storm had settled the wind to thrust it back up into the sky, a dirty and torn newspaper... On its front page were the familiar numbers - 1993.
Yuri held her stance…
"Where did I put that?" Clark mumbled to himself… He calmly jammed his hand into the left cargo pocket of his pants, pulled out a mass of junk and put it in front of his face. "Was this it…?" Shifting his fingers left and right, Clark pulled out a clump of objects from his wide bellowed pockets. A crumpled receipt, a plastic bottle of eye drops, and a worn envelope of film negatives. "Oh no, that's not it." Clark mused and grinned with a sly sliver of nostalgia, glazing his vision over that worn envelope and the strips of negative film. Oh no, that's not it.
The static garbled lines of the snowed out TV screen blanked out the picture. SHHHHRRRGHKKKK… The story had changed.
Oh no, that's not it. The picture on the screen appeared again in full colour.
Without pause, Clark stabbed his opposite hand into his thigh and pulled out another array of objects. "A." That's it. "Say, Yuri." Clark said.
Between Clark's thumb and index finger was a small plastic cassette. "Hey!?" Clark called out in his trademark strange inflection jumbled between a greeting, a jeer and a question. The boy, now an old man bent at the waist, with a grinning sneer Clark locked gazes with Yuri and his lips parted to talk. "Does this belong to you?"
3:31 A.M. The world was pitch black on that rooftop, in that strange country of New Hong Kong. A miasma of cultures brought together taken apart from the rules of time…
I THOUGHT.
The Earth was angry, but the sound of plastic that had scraped across the concrete ground on top of La Bijoux immediately silenced the coming storm, calmed the wind, stopped the rain for a moment and this midnight darkness was quiet once again. However…
I THOUGHT… THAT I FOUGT, SO WELL.
Clark pulled out from his pocket a small one and a half inch cassette tape and put it in front of his face. "I think I found your original… Yuri." Just as he always did so effortlessly, even Clark's flat toned voice easily made Yuri's heart pump feverishly. Taken out of context, Clark's innocent statement would mean nothing to a stranger, but Clark had this innate talent, that could easily push anyone over the edge of sanity.
THAT I FOUGHT SO LONG!
The cold thin air around Yuri's lips had immediately become thick and viscous, making it hard to breathe when her lungs began to take in humid air. The world responded to the girl! Mimicking her swirling emotions, the clouds marched overhead again and even further draped these endless lovers in their lightless twilight. 3:34 A.M.
NO.
THAT I FOUGHT SO, HARD!
The camera turned completely around and darted like a hungry beast, the animal leapt up to Clark's face, spanning the stardust until its claws were inches from his eyes covered in those peculiar dark Ray-Ban shades.
"Is this tape your only copy?" Clark asked, smiling.
NO!
BUT IN THE END… WOULD THIS BE MY [PUNISHMENT]?
Yuri's focus, her spasming vision – like small ants skittering in fear as they were trapped in a slowly heating frying pan. Her pupils, her eyes, were running back and forth in fear, dread and in desperation – just as – four HARD solid concrete walls fell from the sky and trapped her in a BOX. THE ROOM. Like rain – it touched all without prejudice.
Wham. The front. WHAM. The back. WHAM! WHAMM! Then the left and right, enclosing the girl in this place of terror that was not so unfamiliar. Four vertical walls planted themselves into the ground in a box. Insanity is my gift – and it will touch you all… [IT said.]
…
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. "Dark squares…" he drew four lines around that dot. Then, in between the quadrilateral and the dot he traced yet another square with dotted lines carefully in between the single point and the solid lines that trapped it. "…and light squares."
…
A taut string pulled Yuri's eyes directly at the small cassette tape in between Clark's fingers. No that can't be possible. Yuri pleaded. This can't be, Yuri BEGGED. This… THIS. CANNOT. BE. HAPPENING. OH GOD! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME!?
What was that word?
Mortification, despair, despondence – these words alone could not completely describe the empty feeling in Yuri's heart as she felt the world around her grow dark and engulf everything at arms reach, leaving Yuri floating in a void of helpless tragedy. That feeling when you were JUST one step to ultimate victory, only to falter and FAIL at the last moment. The exact moment just when you thought you would succeed, that despite all your efforts, you instead FAILED. …and you are reminded, that within the clockwork of this world, you are NOTHING.
The Olympus Pearlcorder L100. It was a Microcasette tape recorder that retailed for $129.40 US dollars in the 1990s. With the tape recorder in Clark's one hand and the 'original' micro cassette tape in his other, the devil waved these two jewels in front of Yuri arrogantly. The colour of the label, the scribbling written on it, and the snide way he waved it so confidently… Even if Yuri's mind SCREAMED – NO! It is not. It is impossible, it is a fake, he can't – there is no way – it is impossible… Eventhough it was impossible, inconceivable – eventhough her mind pulled back, her heart had already accepted it without her permission.
Eventhough there was still that one small voice of whimpering denial in the backdrop when the sky began to rumble, the way Clark stood, the way he sneered, the way his 40 foot tall body seemed to look down at me… eventhough it was there, denial began to fade.
"Yuri… Yuri-chan?" A girl's voice whimpered from behind Clark – under the shadow of the door pane that housed the staircase behind them.
"Mou…"
If you get in my way, I will kill you, Yuri Sakazaki. I will kill you, and all of your friends who made King this way.
"Yu…uri… Yuri-chan…"
"Mousse…?" Yuri's voice finally broke half way up her throat, as her entire body was about to crumble and disintegrate into darkness.
"Oh… It's you." Clark tucked his chin into his left shoulder, looking back and absolutely unfazed as to why this interloper had somehow snuck by them to watch at such an odd hour almost 4 A.M.
"Yu…ri…" Yuri's friend, Mousse said.
No. Was it YOU!? Yuri screamed in the quiet void where no one would care to listen… A high pitched sound served to curl Yuri's stomach, making her want to throw up.
"Yuri-chan!" Mousse said again before putting her hands over her face and ran back down the stairs of that rooftop in absolute fright and dark killing remorse.
"YOU! Clark… CCC…Clarkkkkkg…." Yuri gnashed her teeth, facing Clark once again. "YYYYYOUUU!" The sensation in the bottom of Yuri's spine began to freeze, feeling bloated and numb. At this time, she was now UNABLE to feel the stinging, searing, raging pain that had once erupted from her hands when all her ten fingers drilled into both her palms, somehow tearing into its own flesh without fear of any consequence. Her ENTIRE body was trembling, wanting to break itself - to shatter it into millions and billions of pieces of steel when she could FEEL her insides harden, to will her heartbeat STOP.
It was so much HATRED trapped within a body of a small girl that it had to erupt from the corners of her eyes that it curled its claws outwards into the Earth and stop it from revolving. To STOP time. KESHITE!
If only YOU did not EXIST! If only – Yuri's gums bled when her teeth gnashed.
My natural enemy.
OMAE WO! KONO YOUU KARA… KESHISTEYAGERU!
…
"I don't hire children, here." King said calmly to the baby girl. "Go home."
"WAIT!" Yuri called out before King could turn away. Yuri put both hands on the door keeping it from closing shut. "My dadd..y…" Yuri began but caught herself mid sentence. "No, MY MASTER told me. That ALL debts have to be repaid!"
…
I will massacre you.
MINAGOROSHII!
Everything.
ZENBUN!
I will erase every bit of you from the memory of this world.
KESHITEYAGARU!
So that not even one GRAIN of you will remain.
MOU IPPIKI NOGARASU...
I WILL destroy you! Until nothing is left…
NOGARASANAI!
CLARK STEEL!
…
THEN. SILENCE. The static gray noise was a pure white silence, in the room where the floor gave way in perfect cubes and Yuri found herself floating in a bright vacuum of outer space where no thoughts remained…
Yuri felt ten cold fingers wrap themselves, their tips digging into her shaking shoulders. "Yurichi…" A blonde haired boy said sweetly; pulling itself out from the dark shadows behind Yuri's back, with two pinpoint bloodshot eyes of a Pierrot who's eyelids had been cut by knives, it floated. Hunched over her shoulder, a Frankenstein face, perched his wide grinning mouth next to Yuri' ear… triangular shark teeth chattering as they positively interlocked with each other inside his mouth – he whispered amidst the small, wiggling penetrations. "Yuri-chi… Washi wo…"
Washi wo…
The little boy's face, littered with stapled scars all over it in the shape of an asterisk stood behind Clark. His entire face sewn and stapledshut.
"WASHI wo… kikoeru kai?" Can you hear me? The Children put both his hands over the petrified Yuri. His entire face, a gruesome maw. He whispered closely to her ear. Yuri looked outwards, staring blankly as her mind swirled into a fearsome panic that pulled her down into a whirlpooling nervous breakdown. "Hello. Can you hear me? I am…" It whispered softly into her ear. I am your Star, little girl.
…
Chapter 102: Ordinary World
"What will you do now? Yuri?" Clark sneered and laughed. "What now?!" He put both arms splayed wide. He had this innate skill, to just PISS – YOU – OFF.
"What are you going to do? Little girl?" A small voice asked behind Clark.
{You can't hear him can you.} "You can't hear him can you?" Clark asked.
"What?"
"Can you SEE the [Children] or NOT!?" Clark asked again, only to be answered by Yuri's confused face.
If you cannot see [him], then you cannot win. What will you do now, little girl?