The Colour Purple Chapter 127: the Principle of Double Effect, 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]

1977. May 25th – George Lucas' Star Wars opens in cinemas and becomes the highest grossing film of its time, firmly propelling the sci-fi genre into the American mainstream culture.

Was I simply unlucky? Or was I simply undetermined?

There is often a very capricious distinction… between [destiny] and [responsibility]. Something – a basic concept that children need to understand to survive, yet so many immature adults fail to even begin to grasp. However, there is a simple test that can be applied universally to determine the value of a gamble.

IF you could turn back time, given the luxury to make the choice a second time, yet even then, you would make the SAME choice, despite the inevitable unfortunate outcome, then you know deep down inside, FATE can no longer be blamed for the resulting unfortunate outcome.

If GOD gave you a second chance to change your future, yet you freely chose the same sad road again, then have faith and take to heart – that your choice was true, and you can no longer blame a merciless GOD for your misfortune. You can do nothing else but endevour forward to vehemently achieve your goal – and harbour no regrets. As you take responsibility for the outcome of your own action.

Therefore, oftentimes, the courage to take another step forward in the face of failure as opposed to the feeling of mortification that paralyses – was capricious indeed.

IF you chose the same road a second time around – then wallowing in self pity, in regret is a very useless endevour indeed – all you need to keep in heart is that you made a clear and hardened decision back then – and take responsibility for your decision – as you RESIST the will of destiny with sound mind, just heart and a pure body.

If you make a choice TWO times around, then do so proudly, and truly take responsibility for its outcome – then, therefore and then, there is NO REASON to turn back time.

…

1977. New England. Christmas day. [The 7th Day End].

"I'm sorry, son." Knight said. His wife curled her arm around her loving husband, That Christmas day. A warm sensation that wrapped its loving arms around her and her husband like a heavy blanket that gave them a calm solace from the cold when they bid their guest farewell.

"Time to go, Clark." Heidern said flatly as he walked away back to the truck leaving his dog soldier a few more moments to say his goodbyes. But, instead of sadness, it was something else that painted itself on the young Boy's, Clark's face. His forehead was completely wrapped in white bandages – bandages that spilled outwards and even covered his one eye. Battered and destroyed, both arms were now flaccid and broken. Even with one arm in a cast, Clark did not even pay heed to it all, and he just smiled. With his one good arm he scratched his forehead timidly, beaming a wide grin that brought a bright happiness to the world.

From the distance Ralf's voice was easy to hear. "Knight?" Ralf snarked in his raspy voice. "Who gives someone that kind of name?"

"The Queen."

"Heeighh?" Shrieked Ralf ever so annoyingly like an old cartoon witch. "The queen of WHAT?"

"The Queen of England, you idiot." Heidern smiled, slapping Ralf's head into the steering wheel playfully, leaving the boy pouting in the driver's seat, just barely even able to reach the foot pedals. Heidern shut the passenger door.

A bright and glimmering happiness that even King, who stood silent behind her parents could mayhaps understand. A feeling of melancholy – with every fiber of her body, she did not want to think of anything, yet bit by bit… perhaps maybe for a little while that feeling of melancholy could tip to one side for a short moment…

"Hey." Clark chuckled nervously. "Comm-mon." He sneered awkwardly.

Knight's face bubbled up with the building pressure as he was confused as to what he was feeling. Puckering his lips, "I'm sorry for hurting you… son."

"Hey." Clark said again now laughing. His shoulders slumped down with a sigh. "If given the chance…" HE said. "I have no regrets. I'll come back. Again and again. I'll fight your daughter."

King took a breath through her nose and rolled her shoulders back, but with all of her strength she puckered her lips and refused to speak. Knight waved his one arm outwards in a warm goodbye. "Fight us again. If you grow tired of the mercenary life, pay back your debt and remember you have a home here, boy."

I will.

Again and again, until the end of time.

The two adults, Knight and his wife – a warm glow enveloped them but soon they too faded into a blurry background and only King was the only thing he could see. Her stoic expression was all he could see. "Merry Christmas, son." Knight said. "Merry Christmas, Clark." His wife waved goodbye warmly.

To be stoic – a person who can endure pain and hardship without showing their true feelings. There was a clear understanding. I will come back.

Again and again… until we are both free. And, when you need me the most, I will be there to fight with you. Even if – even if I know, that I may fail. Because… Isn't that what we all wanted… for someone to be there for us…

…even if we made an enemy of the entire world. I will COME for you – when you need me the most. Even if I know I will fail. I will NEVER let them DEFEAT you.

…

1977. North Mexico, Southtown 2nd General Hospital.

"You don't need to be worried Mr. Sakazaki." The doctor reassured the man under his crumpled Tyvek mask. "Your wife and daughter will be fine. She should arrive any time now."

Takuma Sakazaki, back then too young, so young that he now had forgotten. As the old man he reminisced about this long lost memory, he had already forgotten how it felt to take his youth for granted. How it felt not to worry about his body complaining the next day if he took himself too seriously or pushed himself too hard the day before. Those things we forget. Though there was ONE thing that day he remembered with lucid clarity.

The man sat in a chair next to his wife – the feeling of an utterly and petrifying sensation crippled him and it felt like a ball of barbed wire in his stomach that gutted him and rendered his extremities ice cold. What was it?

Was it fear? Was it apprehension? Was it regret? IT was indistinguishable from each other. It was that same feeling when your mind understood with clarity – when you held a metaphoric pistol in your hand, reaching out and knew full well that the next choice would be of grave consequence.

Takuma did not remember the doctor's name. The man did not remember what he was wearing that day despite the era's unique and flambouyant fashion. In his mind that room was a pitch black and he could not recall one single detail… except for – that SENSATION. In 1977.

…

With an invisible pistol in his hand.

The RULE of double effect.

…also known as the principle of double effect, reasoned by Thomas Aquinas, is a set of ethical criteria which Christian philosophers, and some others, have advocated for evaluating the permissibility of acting when one's otherwise legitimate act, may also cause an effect considered abhorrent.

To relieve a terminally ill patient's pain through euthanasia; To kill an aggressor in order to save his own life, are valid examples; and perhaps the most commonly debated situation, is… if a man, in front of a lever is forced to choose – if he were to do nothing, 5 people tied to a train track would die, but if he were to pull the lever, it would divert the out of control train to a separate track and kill a single person instead.

…

Our LIVES were governed by solid, steadfast rules, yet… why are we men fated to be often TEMPTED to defy IT?

Takuma recalled with vividness, him wrapping his left hand over his right fist. Each of his fingers committing to mind every familiar bump and crevice on the back of his opposite hand. Begging and pleading to a deaf God, perhaps for more time, just a little more.

Two female nurses flanked the doctor in that room, though the room was likely not dark back then, in his mind it seemed like a pit of hell devoid of light.

The radiating light reflected in front of the nurse's face. A low resolution computer monitor, a monochrome screen that was a duo tone green and black – that – by today's standards, children would likely consider so prehistoric, it would have perhaps cost no more than ten US dollars in 2019.

Wait. Please... give me… give me more… time… Takuma begged.

A wail and cry. A familiar scream of a child erupted to break the glass that once protected the silence in Takuma Sakazaki's thoughts.

"Mr. Sakazaki!" The doctor proclaimed. "It's a girl!" He beamed a wide smile that was reflected in his eyes that could not be concealed by his plastic mask.

"A."

…

The ultimate extreme fighting technique. Shrouded in mystery, yet easily understood, if abided, by hard and distinct rules passed on from generation to generation. Our dynasty. The RULES of Kyokugen Karate, was an easy one to follow – if one were to abide by the warnings of generations long past. Yet why, why do we rebel? Does human arrogance think that maybe, mayhaps WE, would be granted an exception?

This double standard notion is NOT respected by RULES.

Rules are easy to understand, easy to follow. YET, in order to reinsure its continuous existence, it is a sad fact, that it must REINFORCE PUNISHMENT to those who stray from its simplicity.

…

"All signs normal, doctor." The nurse said from behind the small computer screen.

Wrapped in a bundle of pink cloth, the doctor beamed a bright smile, turning to the baby girl's father with pride and glee. But. Before the doctor could say another word, Takuma stood up, a dark shadow wrapping itself over his shoulders when he totally ignored the doctor and with streams of tears from his eyes and down his cheeks, walked past the man that held his newborn daughter in hand, and gripped his wife's left hand in both of his. Holding it tight, crumpling it with the entirety of his strength, trembling… Fearful of letting go, because he wished that if he held on hard enough, STRONG enough, if he clawed his talons into the woman he loved more than life itself, maybe, mayhaps, perhaps, the RULES of God would have mercy upon him…

"Mr…. Mr. Sakazaki?" The doctor said, dumbfounded with a crying little girl bundled in his arms.

…Just this once.

…

"Ma…ma…" Takuma cried, Takuma's once hard and stoic face now crumbled to dust.

"Don't cry. Don't be afraid, my darling." She smiled confidently, clawing back to her husband's hands with the same ferocity he gave her. Trembling, not fear, but… with DEFIANCE – that maybe – mayhaps – perhaps – GOD would grant her an exemption.

We made this choice.

The END of La Bizarre Love Pentagon – part 41.

[The principle of DOUBLE EFFECT.]

We made this choice together… didn't we… my love.

…

Yes. Yes we did. But…

A true God that relinquished justice even to those he bequeathed privilege, equally.

If the RULES are explained clearly beforehand, and all participants are FREE to make choices without duress, then the outcome can never be considered CRUEL.

…

The slow cadence of beeps immediately erupted into a frantic, rapid sequence that solicited alarm from the two nurses and the doctor.

"Doc… Doctor." One of the nurses looked up from the monitor absolutely dumbfounded and now held an expression of total fright.

"Mrs. Sakazaki!" The other nurse called out, now unable to mask her panic.

A large volume of red blood had suddenly collected into a pool between her thighs and began to drip off the hospital operating table and onto the floor.

"Mr. Sakazaki, please stay calm." The doctor handed the baby to one of his nurses, frantically looked at the monitors and then put his hand on the woman's thigh. At this point he was uncertain if he was talking to the patient or if he was talking to himself, he had no idea what was going on when the mother began to spontaneously hemorrhage uncontrollably.

A confusing scene indeed, with three medical professionals rushing back and forth with the same chaos as children who did not know what else to do but try to plug a dam that had erupted with nothing more than their tiny fingers.

But Takuma Sakazaki and his wife were calm and still, both of their hands wrapped in each other. With a plain stoic look in his face that was only betrayed by the streaming tears, Takuma voicelessly committed to memory every last second, chiseling every last expression in his love's face, as the sands of time slowly ebbed its last through the tiny waist of that hourglass, into the dark recesses of his mind.

Because… this was the [rule] set forth by [the] Kyokugen.

…and even as the GIFTED ones – were not exempt from it.

"M… My love… I..."

I love you. SO… I love you so much.

Takuma's voice was drowned out by a constant flatlined hum. At the cusp of the end, Takuma Sakazaki wished that his voice would reach her in time, one last time before she found a comfortable peace in a place of the outer darkness. Mocking the world were those green and black monitors, that, by today's standards – could be no more than ten US dollars. When 2019 and 1977 became one and the same this one distinct moment.

How can I even go on; WHEN there is no one I can even HATE.

How HORRIBLE is that?

…

1993. Now.

…

I will kill you.

…

"I will kill you." She whispered – with a clear and calm determination.

Only you and I exist here. NOW.

Just, at the exact moment when Clark was about to huddle down and lower his center of gravity even deeper before launching forward, he felt the sinking sensation that was clear and undeniable… His foot had momentarily slipped off the edge of the rooftop of La Bijoux. The horror that flashed across his face reflected like a knife that stabbed through his heart, parting his lips.

What was this MADNESS? Did this little girl somehow – now at the tattered limits of sanity, somehow piece together and devise this elaborate sequence of attacks to drive me to the edge without me realizing it – while I was too lost in arrogant folly? A Deus Ex Machina? Some divine, ridiculously contrived plot device.

"I'm NOT going to LOSE to you." Ah, yes, I recall that… Promise.

Chuckling… The sweet, stuttering, chuckling giggle bubbled over Yuri's lips as she slowly and gingerly tilted her head up to face her one and true, her God given, her natural enemy.

…

"Despite what your momma told you, little girl," A grin beaming brightly even at the edge, "It's not always ALL about YOU!" Clark glared with a tilted his head back with a snarl.

"My momma's DEAD, you ASSHOLE. But you won't be seeing her, because I'm going to make sure you go STRAIGHT to HELL!" YOU FUCKING…. SON OF A BITCH!

…

One by one. Then, all five fingers of her right fist curled in deep one very last time. The vortex sucked in the strange and peculiar miasma that surrounded it. It was an unknown 'element', not air, not life, it was a rainbow coloured swarm of spectral insects - but it continued to devour that fuel inwards hungrily – transforming 'it' into a grey sludge that slithered in between the spaces of her fingers, unsure if it was a solid or liquid.

I have determined. That. YOU ARE EVIL. Therefore…

Yuri Sakazaki pulled back her right hand back in line with her temple, then, at the end of its apex she twisted her shoulder in a painful manner and even as her muscles defied her, "Mou ichi dou…" She uttered under her breath. ONE MORE TIME! Even when her master warned against it, the young girl, with painful care, with conscious care, feeling every joint in her entire body… curled each finger even tighter – so much that her tendons, thinning at the extreme tension, felt like they wanted to instantaneously separate and absolutely disintegrate her bones into a million pieces. Ever so slowly, her fist floated up until it was in line with her right temple, ready to strike with her FINAL command. Even if her master warned against it… Once again, she PULLED back 6 inches further… The soft parts of her side giving away with a splay of gushing blood – and with all the tendons of her right side screaming in PAIN in unison.

I refuse to believe that my life was meaningless. Because you, and you, and you… and I met here. Will not a divine tragedy TRANSFORM to liberty? IF I fought hard enough? TRIED hard enough. And, believed my cause was TRUE? Is that NOT the RULE of Kyokugen karate?

'Master, what did Ryousuke Onii-chan sacrifice? For THAT?' I often wonder.

Just like a drawn bow pulled back to the extreme that the fiberglass body had begun to fray and splinter, Yuri wondered to herself if this soft, emolliating feeling she felt deep in her core was her internal organs tearing and bleeding – because her body was now eating itself. Fear had now been replaced with amusement, because it was the only thing that could keep her sane.

[Have you ever had the pleasure of HATING a man so very much] – that the thought of sacrificing yourself to KILL HIM was such a very easy decision? I often wonder… this feeling of HATRED. It was similar to something [else].

A serendipitous destiny brought me here – and now I simply – have – to – see it…

YOU and I are the same. AND, what happens when two ultimate truths meet face to face? IN a game where only ONE can exist? HERE. AGAIN.

…to the end of the story.

Yuri's left foot launched forward, the concrete cracking under the amassing pressure underfoot. Clark swerved both his arms back in a wide W shape - taloned fingers splayed free – when his left foot hit the very edge of the concrete roof, a large mass of black goo – an OUTER DARKNESS appeared behind him like claws of a flower to devour everything in its path.

KYOKUGEN. SAIKYOU OUGI!

THE OUTER DARKNESS!

"KAKUGO! Prepare yourself! For death!"

Chapter 127: the principle of Double Effect

They proclaimed fearlessly in unison.

…

As this RULE, one of many rules that was passed on in the Sakazaki family for generations millenia… It was simple; and it was easy to understand.

In order to preserve the purity of the fighting art of KYOKUGEN KARATE. The rule was that, in order to take full control of the lineage, each family was ONLY allowed to have ONE child.

It was a hard, and steadfast rule. Easy to understand, and simple to execute.

To defy it would certainly lead to despair, for another rule – was this…

TOUKA KOUKAN. The RULE of equivalent exchange – was the concept that was the cornerstone of their fighting art and their family. To defy it, it is said, would yield an immediate penance, it would result in an efficient, distinct, and unchallengable, auto correcting resolution.

I love you. SO… I love you so much.

Takuma's voice was drowned out by a constant flatlined hum.

…