The Colour Purple Chapter 129: the Ultimate Gift, 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]

NOT THIS. She gnashed her teeth in rage. Anything… ANYTHING, but... THIS….

You DO understand don't you?

Some may call it JUSTICE. But in truth, this is simply a fair and equivalent exchange.

[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].

…

Eventually we all realize this… and we often wonder… we ask – what if we had chosen, another path, instead… of this… would our destiny have changed? And, would we have been satisfied, with an ORDINARY, a boring, yet, HAPPY life?

Yuri stopped. The smile of elation on her face had suddenly turned sour – a face of frigid horror when the realization had caught up with her. Just as when Adam and Eve bit off of the fruit of knowledge. The crisp crunch when biting into that fruit.

How different would it have been? And, would we be satisfied?

…

The RAPTURE is an eschatological concept of certain Christians. Many Christians believe in a future End Times event when all true believers still alive before the end of the world will be taken from the Earth by God into heaven. The term describing this event is the Rapture.

This certain event that occurred to the girl, Yuri Sakazaki, could be regarded as the FIRST manifestation of the rapture.

…

Could it be? Could people long for, yet reflexively, push happiness away…

Eventually we all realize this…

"Hey! Stop pestering your sister!" Yuri shouted while setting the table. Though, despite her steady scolding, two young children ran circles around the living room, absolutely oblivious to the eventual consequences of the world around them, and Yuri, feeling so old now, wondered if – back then – if she, herself, was any different; and eventhough she could not remember his warnings, she whispered a silent murmur to apologize to her master in penance.

August 8, 2008… The Summer Olympics was held in Beijing China. At the time, I seem to recall - it was indeed considered a 'big deal' with its equal share of controversies.

This vision – so peculiar – Yuri thought, was this not disallowed by the rules?

Through what seemed like an ETERNITY of youthful agony, one day we all come to realize that in the end, all stories come to the same finality, and perhaps the trials and tribulations we faced as idiot teenagers were in fact as petty and insignificant as the adults told us.

15 years later. What seems so far in the future, Yuri mused and thought out loud – and I wonder, gazing upon a dream 15 years later, would they have a King of Fighters in 2008? But alas, I am beyond those notions now, because in 2008 I would surely have no interest in those things.

…even though back THEN – THOUGH it seemed so INCONSEQUENTIAL NOW - we thought we were fighting for our very lives. EVEN when the ADULTS forgot. When the meaning of FATE and DESTINY were simply big words we had needn't even bother to fully, philosophically understand.

"HEY!" Yuri shouted one last time. "I am going to count to three… ONE! TWO!"

"Three."

"Papa!" One of the children screamed in glee, his voice still whistling on the account for his one missing tooth.

Two strong arms wrapped themselves around Yuri's shoulders. Shoulders that had once thought that the world had weighed entirely on them, and she was about to see the end of it all.

"[Hey], darling." The man grinned pulling back tight in a warm embrace.

In a warm embrace, Yuri, who now, she would consider old and decrepit by her 16 year old standards – now 15 years later. But, in the end of it all, it was all okay when she felt her shoulders relax and melt backwards in an unknown, to be engulfed by a heartwarming feeling.

She wished that she could freeze time, and replay it over and over again at her whimsical leisure, just to this one place, this one sweet MOMENT – a sequence of events just a dozen handfuls of seconds long.

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far far away, where princes and princesses roamed, 26 years ago, it seems so far away and she was so indifferent to what happened back then, when we were YOUNG, and, we were OBLIVOUS to it all. When we were TRULY FREE from accepting the responsibility of the consequences of our actions. Running born free. Then, when it was all about FIGHTING just to maintain some semblance of dignity in a terrible HORRIBLE time. In 1993. 26 years ago from [now] – something HORRIBLE happened.

"I love you honey," he whispered behind Yuri's ear.

I want to stay [here]… FOREVER…

"I love you too… R…." Grabbing those strong arms lovingly with both her hands, Yuri,…

SSCCHHHCCRRRRCGHK! The static hum of the television tore out their eardrums at 4 am in the morning, back then, when normal television broadcast had already long stopped. It left an animated 'snow' of monochrome chaos on the television screen, children nowadays would not even begin to comprehend. That feeling of nothingness, in the midnight darkness.

[The RAPTURE takes. THAT. Which is most important to you. At the time when you are the WEAKEST.]

…

"HEY!"

The horror on Yuri's face was clear to see when she realized that at the apex of her punch it had somehow stopped short by some inconceivable cruel destiny.

Yuri's hyperextended arm, her fist stopped short 15 centimeters from Clark's nose.

"You will rue the day you locked me in this dark room." Imprisoned and apart from the gleaming stars in the sky. Insanity is my gift – and it will touch you all… He said. (69)

…without prejudice.

The END of La Bizarre Love Pentagon – part 43.

How…

Yuri's shoulder was contorted, her elbow locked frozen in place. Her right arm was fully extended, so much that it felt like she had dislocated her arm at the joints in two places from the extreme inertia.

Yet, her knuckles floated in the air, just tens of millimeters, exactly 6 inches from Clark's nose.

Clark sighed a soft breath, the aloof, despicable sense of confidence wafting from the glow in his face now. The man relaxed his shoulders, slouching forward before sloughing his posture backwards.

The horror on Yuri's face was clear to see when she realized that at the apex of her punch it had somehow stopped short by some inconceivable cruel destiny.

"Hnnn Hggnnn HGN!" Clark could not hide his burning disbelief of glee. Standing aloof he thought to himself – was this all? After ALL that fanfare, after all that, how ridiculous of him to think that he had been forced to go this far when Kyokugen's final attack was not as devastating as he once thought.

The FINAL attack of your 'Kyokugen' the EXTREME fighting art, was in the end nothing compared to the ULTIMATE GIFT that [she] gave me.

Adding further insult to injury, stomping and twisting his heel into a small insect's body with enough precision to keep it wiggling and alive to SUFFER. Clark giggled in a ridiculous realization. {You've lost. You've lost…} He repeated spastically in his mind in silent [s]laughter that sounded like a loud deafening shriek to Yuri's ears. Just as that cockroach, half of its lower body crushed - continued to plead, beg and pull its upper body forward to live.

…

1993.

Clark rolled and relaxed his shoulders back.

KONO'YAARROOOUU GA! What Yuri did not realize was that no voice came out of her mouth even though her mind had faded into a stark, blinding white rage.

{You can't move… anymore… can you?} Clark sneered.

"A." From Yuri's shoulders downwards, her body did not respond to her commands and as the silent echoes in her mind stated, it was indeed true and Yuri was frozen in place. In the heat of the moment, she had perhaps forgotten another clear consequence of the Tenchi Haou Ken.

Yuri wanted to push her fist forward, break it from the concrete it was encased in – tens of millimeters from its final destination. She wanted to pull it back but it refused to move. Her mind burned in a seething rage, sending commands repeatedly down her spine, but her limbs felt cold and bloated.

{I can't… I can't…} Her thoughts were sharply interrupted by a cutting pain, blades stabbing the lower part of her left breast. IT was an unknown feeling and she was indeed unsure if this tearing, horribly painful, mercilessly devastating agony was something short of cardiac arrest. Yuri had sunk into a helplessly terrible fear that she might be suffering a heart attack.

[THE PAIN]. I can't MOVE!

Clark just moments before 4 am in the morning, this lonely dark twilight morning, and if you think of it – was indistinguishable from any other lonely time, the man rolled his ankle and shifted his center of mass forward…. Only to stop a split second into it.

A SHINY MEMORY.

Clark rolled back, and though he did not understand at first – eventually - all shallows became clear – in your sea of disillusion. As reality reasserts itself. Here. And. Now.

The RULES, are plain and simple and even YOU, you despicable GOD, HAVE TO…

A small girl's fist. The concept of :y8irl. The fist though unassuming and petty at first still blocked his path and a small dying star, a fluttering gleam like a dying lightbulb, a spherical mass separated his nose with four knuckles that was petrified in place.

"A?" Clark looked at IT. Flickering into darkness, but… just as all hope had all but extinguished, it stopped. If you attempt to foolishly execute this ATTACK. The Tenchi Haou Ken, be forewarned that if you convert 100% of your heart, mind, soul to it, the physical remnants of your body that remain will be unable to withstand the equal and opposite reaction of this devastating extreme attack. But.

BECAUSE, even YOU know, that if fate did not offer recompense for the RULES that you plainly presented to us to follow, this planet would, resultantly, stop rotating on its axis.

But… if you are willing to take its gamble, and if you GIVE in EXCHANGE something of equal VALUE.

THEN.

THEN… GOD. Has no recourse than to present to you – AS REMUNERATION – AND AS OBLIGATION – for even celestial beings are subject to rules.

The dead star, that glimmering orb, no bigger than a ping pong ball that floated between Yuri's fist and Clark's face. Slowly and surely… came back to a glowing life.

…even celestial beings are subject to rules, and offered no exception, God has no recourse – if you fulfilled your part of the bargain - than to offer what you desire in EQUIVALENT EXCHANGE!

…

"Hey! Is that!" The baby Yuri, now a memory what seemed an eternity ago.

"That's a shooting star." A voice that was disembodied and unknown that Yuri did not know who once said it.

…

3:59:52 AM

All shallows would eventually become clear in due time – and the screaming LOUDNESS would eventually stutter to a quiet silence. Ryousuke Sakazaki, ripped from the womb of the peaceful embrace of his slumber jolted awake. From his dark room. A feeling that he had experienced again and again, once more jarred him awake.

"Haou…" The EMPEROR, his voice gurgled unconsciously, when his throat cut itself open.

[WHAT is this FEELING?]

…

Yuri gnashed her teeth into each other; she instinctively knew that if she did not shut her eyes right this instant, as she did now feverishly, and if she did not look away…

Clark tilted back in disbelief, just as he thought it was going to end the story… that now had become without my knowing, become 20 years long.

…

3:54:24 AM

Takuma Sakazaki put both hands on the armrests of his plastic chair and shuffled his buttocks back up on his seat uncomfortably before putting his left wrist in front of his face. The cheap liquid crystal display on his Casio wristwatch displayed 3:54 AM. Visibly troubled, the old man hid his emotions under a veil of anger and frustration.

The father looked over his shoulder once again imagining sounds, but when he turned to face the door there was no one there. He caught himself, and thought better… he reminded himself that when his daughter, Yuri would finally try to sneak through the front door, he told himself that he would pretend to not notice at first and with a distinct, clear GRUNT he would make his presence known – he would pretend to be indifferent at first - just before he would unleash HELL.

But it was now almost 4 AM, it was so cold and it was so dark, and Takuma, once fortified by disappointment, he was now beginning to feel a crippling fear when his daughter had not come home, and it was now so late.

For the past hour or two Takuma has rehearsed the scene in his mind over and over. Just when Yuri would try to sneak in he would cough once maybe twice. Reach for his untouched glass of red wine – before he would say… he would say… "Young lady…" Takuma replayed the scene again and again in his mind BEFORE UNLEASHING HELL.

But it was almost 4 in the morning. It was cold, and it was dark and his seething anger had, in the past 5 hours past, had weathered down to a small nub – now, it was plain to see, his frustration, had become, fear as any father would feel.

"Yuri!" Takuma gnashed. He had clearly lost this game. Overcome with fear, Takuma finally stood up and grabbed the wine glass in his hand and with a silent whisper tossed the contents across his back lawn with his right hand while his left hand affixed itself perpendicularly in front of his face in silent prayer. Takuma closed his eyes, wishing that no ill tragedy had befallen his only daughter. Oh my dear, keep her safe… dear…

Takuma opened his eyes. To his confused disbelief, the world was bright and clear as day. The old man's brows furrowed, he was ABSOLUTELY confused as to why, just a second ago the world around him was pitch black, but now he could distinctly see the green colours of the grass in front of him as if it was 10 AM in the morning.

Night had turned to day. Darkness into light.

"What the hell…"

Takuma rotated his wrist and the digital face read 4:00 AM. But the world was clear and as bright as day.

Takuma tilted his head up – the world was dark again, the cold chill that passed by reminded him that he was still living in reality.

"What."

Takuma looked backwards to the door that was still closed, then back up to the stars in the sky. It was dark again.

"What the hell… What the hell is going on?!"

…

Oh. Oh I wish that you were here to give me – give me everything I want. But I know now that life's unfair. We can't always have it all. And did I, in my selfishness, did I deprive you of yours?

…and all that is left, is darkness, and longing. But sometimes… that is enough.

…

With a final hard and dry THUMP the wooden log released from its trap and crushed the Predator underneath, just as Arnold Schwarzenegger looked on at the last of his breath.

While still regular during these times in the early 90s, controls were still wired to the television, but he was granted the luxury of an expensive device that somehow used invisible radio waves to take rule over the world. Eiji, as he was accustomed to doing, pressed the chrome plated plastic button on his aluminum-housed remote control, a red horizontal bar on top of it. The Video Cassette Recorder powered off immediately and once again the old ninja was trapped in a cold dark living room refusing to see the end of a movie from the 80s… 1986? 1987? Predator. He knew already how this movie would end since he had watched it countless times during lonely nights like this one. It was a good movie.

Haaaghhh… Eiji rolled his shoulders, ignoring the creak and sharp pain of his battered joints, no thanks to Yamashita. Eiji shifted his gaze up to the ceiling illuminated only by the grey static snow from the crackling television.

3:54:24 AM

Eiji debated to himself, now at the very withering strands of consciousness, if he should bother making his way to his room or if he should, as he was accustomed to doing, just fall dead on the couch of the living room after an evening of endless binging from watching old 80s and 90s action movies.

The crunching sccchhhreghking – a somewhat indescribable sound filled the room, and while leaning back with his arms over the backrest of the sofa Eiji tilted his gaze now to the right side towards the patio glass even though he could see nothing outside in the pitch black.

A dozen thoughts, a dozen memories ran across the old man's mind all at once, as per usual for old men so early in the morning when all was still, and there was nothing but a maddening hum and DARKNESS to keep you company.

What was he thinking back then in 1987? Back then when movies were the only thing that kept him company when the rest of the world seemed to not care – and any form of amusement was better than to wallow in sadness and apathy. Was [SHE] with me? When I first watched this movie? Even though she so abhorred VIOLENCE. But I know now, better than ever, that she loved me so much – so much that the memories become blurry. The darkness held no reply and this conversation reserved for one was just another meaningless ritual that could only be…

"Uggghhhh…" A long ghoulish groan interrupted Eiji's thoughts.

Reflecting the mix of light and shadow from the television screen, a silhouette hunched forward. A tall, looming shadow – the shape of a monstrous crocodile's profile, accentuated by the stark difference between darkness and light plastered itself across the entire face of the opposite wall – and that ghastly carnivorous groan.

Eiji's stomach collapsed into itself, his lower extremities puckered shut. So preposterous it was to see, that a hardened old warrior suddenly found himself absolutely petrified in fright and unable to move.

Eiji Kisaragi swore he SAW this movie 2 years ago. The ghastly shadow, with long black hair draped straight across its face like old curtains stood up, and in reflection the shadow even grew larger and larger.

The telephone rang. Turururururu…. Tururururu… an 8 bit musical melody. Eiji pulled himself back into the cushions.

At its origin a clawed hand grasped a hold of the loveseat's backrest to Eiji's right. To rise from a darker abyss, the monstrous ghoul pulled its body up. The clear profile of its nose now illuminated by the white light pointed upwards. Eiji's body though a hundred commands ran up and down his spine, he was unwilling or perhaps unable to move.

The sound stopped. Its head turned to face the man finally – a demonic, white globular eye peeked right at Eiji through a crack in the curtain of its black draped hair.

Eiji did not even have the calmness of mind to swallow – he was perplexed as to why…

The red coloured liquid crystal display clock clicked artificially…

3:59:51 AM

"A. Eiji-san?" a small girl sat up then put herself on her knees, just peeking over the backrest of the yellow loveseat like a burrito, still wrapped in a soft nylon sleeping bag.

"O… Ojyou… uuugh…" Eiji wheezed dryly.

3:59:53 AM

The living room was a pure daylight white – as if it was 10 am in the morning.

"Ah.. Ikenai…" Ojyou lamented while rubbing the crunchy residue from her eyes. "Oh no, I overslept… is it morning already mister Eiji?"

Morning? Eiji could not understand why the bright light filled the living room when only minutes ago he was sure it was a pitch black night near 4 AM in the morning. Nevermind him not realizing the Yagami slave girl had been sleeping next to him in the living room all these past few weeks while he spent long nights watching these movies, but moreso he did…

3:59:58 AM

Then, it was dark.

"Eh?" Ojyou looked out again. "What…" She droned out…

"Ojyou…"

Once again Eiji was left all alone here. Unsure of what had just happened, Ojyou had tilted back and had fallen back into the strong embrace of sleep.

Just as if the world was but a fleeting dream. Is not life but a passing folly? Pictures viewed at random. Frames arranged then rearranged, viewed out of sequence. Could it be reasonable to believe that perhaps in between that resulting forced order, maybe one, even two memories were false – and we had inserted there – in our desire for the optimal outcome, misremembered things we would have rather forgone.

He could have sworn the world was bright. But now the room was dark. Mayhaps this was what it was all this time. "Good night." AS the OLD man always did, just when he did…

Oyasumi Ojyou-san… Eiji leaned back and closed his eyes. Today. Was a good day.

The old man, Eiji Kisaragi imagined a pair of soft, yet firm arms wrap over his shoulders – pulling him into a soft embrace just as he… Longing for a past time – and maybe… if we…

Everyday is a good day. And, today is everyday.

…

December 21, 1979 – a Ceasefire for Rhodesia is signed at London.

2 years after the [Seventh day].

"Hey son." Knight called out to the boy.

Clark walked forward slowly, lethargically down the hospital pathway, and it took him, what seemed like minutes to understand that the Knight blocked his way at the other end. With no greeting he just tilted his head up to look upwards to the source of the voice. 20 yards away.

"Wotcha, Ace." Knight said, though in mid sentence stammering a bit, "How are... you, Clark?"

"He… Hello Pops." Clark replied instinctively but as he did he in similar fashion slowed down, bobbing his head down and tilting his gaze to the side a bit. "Sir…"

With a cluttered mass of characters – we become confused. And the concept of GOOD and EVIL, what was once simple in our youth, had become blurry and indistinguishable, now…

The time was December 21, 1979. In New Hong Kong - New Brazil.

"What did the doctor say?"

"I'm… I'm fine. Sir." Clark replied, shifting his gaze down low again. "…" Clark's speech was held back short when he watched a gray shadow, a clump of static like from the television late at night congregate in a mass in front of him. Clark looked up again from his downcast gaze but there was nothing there. He blinked once and now, in front of him was a pair of leather loafers just 3 feet in front of his toes.

At first, the sound he heard was radio static, but when he blinked the world around him was a petrified clear silence. Only to be broken by the picture of those shoes, and when he tilted his head up the boy Clark knew that the Knight was now in front of him.

"Hey." Hey. "HEY." Knight said firmly. "Try these." The man handed Clark a pair of black acrylic sunglasses. Absolutely, as he had always been, absolutely unable to read a room and said things what was considered incorrect and inappropriate. "Ray-Ban Wayferers. All the cool blokes sport these don't you know? Here…" Knight offered, "Here, have at it, try them on." Come on.

Clark put the sunglasses over his eyes, and looked upwards – the dark shades blocking away the sunlight and left him alone in a void akin to a thick tar of quagmire.

"A, it looks good on you." Knight offered.

"A, thank you… sir…" Clark answered lethargically. And. Faking a weak smile.

"HEY."

Hey.

You know… there's a reason for everything.

"A?" Clark…

I truly believe. That there is a reason for everything. You know, son, that I'm not a religious man, but if I did – I think that GOD [has] a plan. Carefully measured, for each and every one of us…

As clear as day, just like now. On April 1st. During the end of World War 2. That was when I first met your commander. And back then – the world TOLD US that we had to be enemies, but look at us now, we are friends. Did [His] great plan account for that? In the same way – I think that there is some REASON you and King met. And…

Crossed us…

You crossed MY life, Clark, and left a peace, son. Knight smiled warmly.

Clark looked over Knight's shoulder, and it took him a great deal of effort, but he could make out his car – a 1971 Bentley sedan. Though perhaps the engrained memory in his mind filled in the small gaps in between. Though, to Clark's amusement he was barely able to take notice of something a little out of place. A little bit of strange and peculiar reward amongst this awkward exchange. "King. King grew out her hair?" He said cracking a playful smile. King looked out from the open passenger side seat, a stoic expression as usual, and before Clark could make another thought, King bit her lip and wordlessly looked away.

It is quite simple to understand. A HIGH LEVEL fighting technique can only work on a HIGH LEVEL enemy. DO you understand that? And as always, I have to show you through FIGHTING.

"I am going to punch your face with my right hand." Knight said flatly, lifting his fist up and curling it in front of his face. "DO you understand?"

…

Why? After all we've DONE to you.

…

I am sure that everything happens for a reason. And one day…

One day, we will understand why.

…

Yuri bit down hard and with what strength she had left turned her head as far backwards as her spine was able to rotate backwards…

From zero to a zillion, all at once, the pressure drove Yuri's heels deep into the concrete.

The lightbulb flickered rapidly before sizzling to darkness with a snap. Then…

Fifty million, a hundred thousand, million billion trillion jet engines erupted ALL AND EVERY ALL AT ONCE, all originating from a single point of big bang theory. From that small star a large cone shaped proton cannon rocket blast gushed forward with a promise to obliterate everything in its path, starting from the front of Clark's face. Enveloping the darkness into light.

ARE YOU WILLING? To sacrifice it all – you do know, that [that] may cause irreparable physical and mental damage to your enemy?

"A!" The ghost of a small boy tilted back from behind Clark, when he realized...

[A CELESTIAL CANON!]

A nuclear eruption from Yuri's fist. A conical plasma wave rendered everything in front of it to dust to be forgotten in its finality, and in front of it, the remnants of Clark's head and shocked face was rendered into a charcoal sketch of black and white. Mercilessly, just as a large machine thinks nothing as it crushes a human trapped within its rotating and grinding gears of fate.

And in its eventuality, the cone shaped nova wave finally simmered into a thin single stream of light that bisected the dark night sky from that originating lonesome rooftop.

A cold and lonely place, one that everyone of us had at least once been before as we asked in silence, why… when it was so easy to give up… WHY ARE WE HERE?

Here, before the warm glow, so eager to share its proclamation to the earth that rotated under our feet… a globe of light grew larger and larger. The silent explosion devoured the darkness as it grew until IT, just like this listless and dark night, a night that had forgotten the woes of the past turned black to white.

Then, in that instant. Night became day, if only for a split second.

4:00:00 AM.

GOOD BYE.

Chapter 129: the Ultimate Gift

…

Returning the day to its rightful place in the darkness of night at the next moment.