The Colour Purple Chapter 123: the Equals, 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. [Original chapter written 2016]

Let us take back, what was once OURS! …and ours alone, my… my dear friend.

"My feelings. For you…" Yuri smiled when the warmth radiated outwards when she finally realized what the answer was to God's small, trivial question…

"My feelings. For you… you are the most wonderful thing in the world." Clark snarled, gritting his teeth, gnashing them – as those words materialized in his mind, and whispered through his lips, he felt a sense of catharsis, even though his voice was tainted with a taste of shame from many years momentarily forgotten.

Clark looked at the ground, one by one, bit-by-bit the orchestra of tears soiled the concrete with rain, then finally he tilted his head up as his jaw was about to seize into atrophy. The perpetual motion that made the Earth rotate on its axis and revolve in the solar system – was DRIVEN by CONFLICT… that… it repeated again, again and again.

DARK SQUARES.

This HATRED. That once enveloped me in a sense of madness

"But." Yuri cussed in response.

"But." Clark sighed in opposite fashion.

"Let me for once, let me be selfish." Yuri continued in her deadpan gaze.

"Let me for once, let me be selfish." Clark sighed – ever so tenderly.

Two distinct voices intersected in the same singular point at the same time.

{If MY truth is more ULTIMATE than YOURS;}

For your selfish, misguided arrogance… I will not let you take the KING of KINGS!

…

Yuri shut her eyes and breathed in… Photographs shelved away in the far recesses of your mind – it was a place – if you were to find me HERE, please say HELLO, and don't let me go… because, I visit this lonely and quiet place, when I am sad – but when I do – I am reminded…

…I am reminded. The rain beat down softly at first, then ripped down with devoted fervour shortly after. Clark tucked his knees into his chest, and looking out into the beautiful Earth, the barrels of a myriad of AK-47 rifles stabbed deep into the soil, like metallic flowers reaching out to heaven. A hundred thousand million graves. This place, is where the memories wait to die.

"A." Yuri smiled, she could not hide the glee when her face beamed brightly.

"Yuri…" Robert grinned in return. A sweet memory, cautious at first, but in due time the girl broke into a slow sprint towards him, to escape it all.

"Robert!" Yuri called out. "Robert, I…" She whispered so tenderly and with such rapture Yuri had forgotten if she had said those words out loud or just uttered them to herself in her mind… "Robert… Robert I, I want to tell you… Robert, I…"

Robert… Robert Garcia… I… lo…

RRRRAAAAGGHHHH! Your petty sentiments will… "NEVER DEFEAT THE KING!" Clark shouted with a guttural wail, very fit for the last moments of death.

"A."

Just as if hit by a speeding car, Yuri LAUNCHED rearwards, her back hit hard and embedded itself into a tall steel electrical cabinet, the back of her head was shortly to follow, whacking the thin sheet metal like a hammer and popping her eyes from its sockets.

The END of La Bizarre Love Pentagon – part 37.

ab so lu tion- a n d - vind icat ion

Suffering is the path to true happiness.

{That hurt. That really hurt.} "That hurt… You know…" Unprocessed without a filter, Clark spoke out loud even though he knew there was no one to hear him now. Yuri had been slung across the rooftop an insane distance from a single punch to the midsection and was now floating, crucified, and inset into concrete within that aluminum electrical cabinet that had warped itself around her silhouette. Yuri looked like a cheap toy encased in a vacuum formed plastic package.

A mixture of blood and vomit gushed out her mouth and an equally disgusting goo streamed out both her nostrils, leaving nothing but only a very slight remnant of her dignity.

Clark's head was tilted down and his face bitterly twisted like he was about to suppress a sneeze. He had to take a moment to steady himself from the drowning nausea that had threatened to drown him just moments ago. He pushed on the tip and right nostril of his nose to push it back on center with a slight crunch, before expelling a clotted mass of phlegm and blood to the floor. "GgrgHhhaghhh… Haaagh,…" Clark slowed his breath as he resuscitated himself from drowning, to replace the bitter black, imaginary water in his lungs with fresh air once again.

{Interesting…} "That is so interesting…" Clark mumbled when he regained his bearings and verified he was breathing properly again. The man turned around, took three steps forward, and bent down to pick up a small object in his hands. He turned back at Yuri's unmoving body, placed his Ray-Ban shades over his eyes and carefully balanced the center arch of his spectacles over the bridge of his nose. "Your fighting… this 'Kyokugen'."

"UGHH… GHHAGHK!" A hard clump had blocked Yuri's esophagus, the lack of oxygen suddenly jarring her semi-conscious. She coughed up violently dislodging the coagulated mass, dropping the slimy ball into the small pool of blood beneath her feet, only to let out one last rush of viscous human liquid that had collected behind it cover it with a crimson stream.

"Just how…" {Just how do you DO it?} Recalling the extreme, wild brute force of her attacks, though not executed with any sort of precision or calculated grace, IT simply felt barbaric and devastating – like a wrecking ball. SO slow you could see it, but were powerless to do anything about it. "Is it that?" Can you manipulate gravity? The gravitational force 'G' of 9.8 meters per second squared? To make your soft hands feel like iron, can you somehow alter this gravitational constant at will around your fists? Or…?

Is it? That? Some sort of PERVERSION of Newton's law of 'the conservation of energy'? Is it even possible to transport mass from one part of your body and transfer it to another part? SO that a heavier fist would require less velocity to launch it forward with the same devastating force…? But, how could you even propel an 80 pound fist, let alone…?

Clark just smiled, scratching the bridge of his nose under the arch of his shades. He caught himself at the apex of his perpetual, intellectual spiral, wondering, why he was trying to make sense of preposterousness. Indeed it was futile to somehow logically rationalize the science of a world that allowed characters to fly in the air and launch fireballs from their palms. A scholarly, yet ridiculous negotiation indeed. BUT. But at the very least, a fool's science that existed here was constant and abided by the same rules no matter what.

So. "So…" Clark walked up inches from Yuri's disgusting face now and hunched down to meet her eye to eye; her pupils dilated - staring blankly out into the void – trying to make sense of it all, at 3 A.M. "If YOUR rules say…" if 'Kyokugen's' rules abided by Newton's, then if your hands are 80 pounds, THEN at that exact moment, your body can only be 20 some ought pounds. That much, Clark's body instinctively understood at a speed faster than his competence.

That is why a single punch can propel your unprotected body backwards 15 yards EASILY like a small child. Clark grabbed a fistful of Yuri's hair and with the sound of a crick, dislodged her head from the vacuum formed steel that held her captive. He leaned forward and looked her in the eye, face to face. Yuri still in a stupor looked into the dark plates over Clark's face and wondered how deep the lenses that covered his eyes extended – looking deeper and deeper, just as she had a twinkling ago, into the dark depths of a darkness she did not understand.

"Ugh!" Yuri fell to the ground with her entire weight on her proper center of mass, now that her body settled instinctively into equilibrium. When she did she curled tight into fetal position when her brain finally received the encoded message of PAIN that radiated from its core out to her extremities in panic and horror. "RRRUUUGHHHHAGH!" The excruciating pain in her belly made her shake tremble yet paralyzed her as her body went into immediate shock.

"Ehhhhh?" Clark sneered a devilish fang toothed grin. Without a shred of mercy, totally oblivious to the concept of empathy, Clark squatted down and once again grabbed a handful of Yuri's hair, tugging her head up with a grunt.

"AAAAGHHH!" She screamed in pain and defiance.

Only to respond in frustration, gritting his teeth and clicking his tongue as though he simply could not be bothered to deal with this nonsense; Clark's other hand gripped the back of her collar and with both hands threw Yuri skidding to the center of the rooftop to stop again with a forceful thud into the humming metal electrical transformer.

"Get up." Clark instructed. GET UP!

It only served to reinforce to Yuri that what was once a simple GAME had now become REAL. If she did not save herself from this saw toothed vortex, if she allowed this sequence of events to continue, she would drown in darkness. That was one thing that was certain.

{If you don't…} Don't you understand, if you do not… Then everything… every little thing, everything you believed in…

In 1972 – in the unrecognized country of Rhodesia.

What will you choose? HOW will you choose?

Clark took one last step and pointed the barrel of his rifle to his commander's head. As that dark skinned man squirmed on the floor with his leg gutted open, spitting out curses and insults, Clark made himself deaf to them. Clark pulled the buttstock of his rifle into his shoulder and looked down the sights. At this range it would be quick, it would be sure – and it would be painless.

Don't you understand…? No one… "NO ONE will come to save you." Clark said.

She inhaled rabidly, sucking precious air through the spaces in between her teeth. Understanding in its finality, what THIS place was, when she sobbed paralyzed as her extremities were gutted, yet she was not allowed to die. WHY? The off white ceiling transformed slowly, fading into a black - devoid of light.

PLEASE HEAR ME.

The feeling of burning PAIN chained us to the mortal coils of the world. But now;

I WANT TO TELL YOU.

Yuri's eyes darted open – pinpoint pupils focusing at a single, sharp speck of floating dust - and – as God had engineered it, the SHOCK turned her blue blood frigid ice cold AND she could no longer feel ANYTHING. …and even the once terrifying concept of horrid pain became a flat, bloated, floating – and inconsequential feeling. Instead. Thinking of, just, that ONE thing. Aaa.. iya nan desu. A. No, not that. Onegai, sore dake jyanai yo. Please. Anything, anything, but that.

Don't steal that from me. This is where memories wait to die.

I will make you great… but… …in exchange…

PLEASE SING TO ME.

A low, hollow BOOMING voice greeted HER. HERE. Where was this? Again.

"DO you know where this PLACE is? Little y8irl…?"

Chapter 123: the Equals

I WANT TO HEAR YOUR VOICE.

Yuri's trembling fingers splayed out then, slowly, very slowly curled inwards, only for her nails - digging claw marks into the concrete.

The fangs in Yuri's mouth locked into each other like perfect puzzle pieces.

"I don't… need… any of them…"

"It's because I'm a girl isn't it? MASTER!?"

"YOU'RE! You are all wrong!"

Ryosuke looked down at her from so high above, as if what I said earlier was stupid and absolutely preposterous.

"The whole world…"

"King of Fighters tournament? Naaaah, no way Yuri-chan!" They sneered.

"Is it because I'm a girl… you SHIT!?"

"What." Clark tilted his head to the side, perplexed and confused – still oblivious to the swirling pictures – like floating projections on nylon screens – revolving, that wrapped themselves around their bodies now.

No one believed in me… except… except for…

"Even if…" Even if the world. The world makes me their enemy. Yuri Sakazaki groaned.

Let me greet you properly.

"What." Clark repeated, a statement that seemed like a question.

They mean nothing to me NOW. Let me greet you properly. "Let me," Yuri began, teetering to a stand, her arms limp but her face stern and locked in determination. Once again, regaining that, and locking into the tracks of the sociopathic zeal. With the last bit of her strength she summoned the courage easily to look Clark in the face again, because now, shame and fear had no meaning and was indistinguishable from zealousy!

Let me meet you half way.

How funny, it is so very ironic and amusing… that eventhough my Master, my brother, and ALL my friends did NOT believe in me. They thought I was NOT good enough. Now the expression on Yuri's face was contorted and convoluted, it was indiscernible from happiness, rage and even sorrow, all – at – the same time. However, all these different puzzle pieces locked into each other perfectly.

'Get up.' The voice was the last voice that kept her wobbling upright.

Even when the whole world had forsaken me, it is so disgusting that – YOU…

{HERE IT COMES!} Clark sucked his breath in gritting HARD to brace himself from the incoming impact! {SHIT!} Even when his mind was driving itself at a hundred miles an hour, he saw his arms float through an invisible molasses - he watched in fright as his hands not be able to reach its destination and be able to guard in time.

YOU WERE THE ONLY ONE, WHO FOUGHT ME AS AN EQUAL!

Newton's law will always exist. Here. My Friend.

…

{Robert!} Yuri thought out. {Robert, I…} She whispered so tenderly and with such rapture Yuri had forgotten if she had said those words out loud or just uttered them to herself in her mind… {Robert… Robert I, I want to tell you… Robert, I…}

"Yuri-chan?" Robert called out to the darkness. It took a while for Robert's eyes to focus, but he could clearly see the moon outside the window. THAT window. There was no answer. Robert tried to carefully walk over to the closed bathroom door. He knocked a few times softly. "Yuri." Sensing the sudden movement, Robert turned around to face Yuri, who had instead crept behind him. "What is it Yuri?"

"I..." Yuri began to say then stopped. A jarring sensation hit the side of her skull with the strength to induce a fierce concussion. She stood in place with her hand on her temple, just like that one time when you sneezed so hard you had forgotten what you were doing seconds prior.

Yuri shuffled her feet, not really understanding what she was doing in that dark den in La Bijoux. She felt out of place – as if something important had been cut away like a chunk of meat from the flow of time.

Robert stretched his arms out wide and took a step forward to hug Yuri, but instead, the girl took two sudden steps back and raised her open right palm up. "Wait, what are you doing, #ert e$r*b&." The last word that came out of Yuri's lips was perplexing and strange – it was a collection of sounds that could not be typed with discernible letters. "What." Yuri stammered when she looked downwards and to the side in confusion. "What, what did…"

As if something was wrong, this memory clouded her mind like the picture of chaotic steel wool. "What are you, doing… What…" Yuri stopped mid speech. "…are you…?"

"Yuri?" Robert asked with a plastered look of bewilderment flashing on his face.

But eventually, the memory faded away.

…

'Get up.' The voice was the last voice that kept her wobbling upright.

Even when the whole world had forsaken me, it is so disgusting that – YOU…

YOU WERE THE ONLY ONE, WHO FOUGHT ME AS AN EQUAL!

Newton's law will always exist. Here. My Friend.

…

Clark covered his right temple with his right palm and instinctively lowered his left elbow down to cover his left ribcage to block in barely enough time when Yuri's right low body hook crashed headstrong like an oncoming truck without any reservation.

{UGGHKKH!} Clark groaned, the man immediately felt the bones of his upper arm buckle and flex, and when it could simply take no more, small fissures appeared in an x-ray view before they began to crack.

Welcome. This place… is the outer darkness.