 
Table of Contents

Chapter 1 – Cold Visit

Chapter 2 – Dark Hadou

Chapter 3 – Memory

Chapter 4 – Promise

Chapter 5 – Reunion

Chapter 6 – Day Job

Chapter 7 – Signature

Chapter 8 – The Date

Chapter 9 – Father Figure

Chapter 10 –Premiere

Chapter 11 – LA Express

Chapter 12 – The News

Chapter 13 – Sisters

Chapter 14 – Vacation

Chapter 15 – Nostalgia

Chapter 16 – Innocent Hatred

Chapter 17 – Condition

Chapter 18 – Kowloon

Chapter 19 – Beyond the Fist

Chapter 20 – Dreams

Chapter 21 – Plans

Chapter 22 – The Meeting

Chapter 23 – Like Ken

Chapter 24 – Invisible Ki

Chapter 25 – Media Stunt

Chapter 26 – Two Hearts

Chapter 27 – Taxi

Chapter 28 – All Warmed Up

Chapter 29 – Final Fight

Chapter 30 – Confession

Chapter 31 – Race

Chapter 32 – Coma

Chapter 33 – True Target

Chapter 34 – Tawnya Blaze

Chapter 35 – Symbol of Rose

Chapter 36 – Ten

STREET FIGHTER:

Dream Never Ends

TALYN RAHMAN-FIGUEROA

Street Fighter: Dream Never Ends

By Talyn Rahman-Figueroa

Copyright 2012 Talyn Rahman-Figueroa

Cover Art: Jung Shan  
STREET FIGHTER © CAPCOM U.S.A., INC. All Rights Reserved.

Smashwords Edition

http://www.dreamneverends.com

*****

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free e-book. You are welcome to share it with your friends. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes except for review purposes. Original storyline belongs to Capcom Inc. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com or dreamneverends.com to discover other works by this author.Thank you for your support.

*****

Message from the author

Many inspirations and people in my life have urged me to fulfil this duty to Street Fighter fans, to the gaming community and to myself. There is no doubt that without playing my first game as Ryu at the age of 9, I would have never been on this road with him.

Ryu has certainly provided me with much inspiration throughout my life but there are certain individuals to whom I must acknowledge.

I have many thanks to give - first and foremost, I would like to thank my special test readers Matthew Abraham, Edwin Cartagena, Ken Houston, Joseph Rodriquez, Jared Shurin, and Aslom Ullah for taking the time to provide critiques of my work before passing the manuscript on to the wider community.

A huge warm thanks goes to Michael Hicks, Mark Norfolk, Andy Remic and Bhavna Wadhera for seeing me through difficult periods of the dreaded writer's block. My deepest gratitude goes to my editor Georgianna Groen who magically turned a 140,000 word concoction into a 80,000 word master piece. Extra special appreciation goes to my former agent Adam Korn, Josh Austin and Joshua Izzo of Capcom for showing such enthusiasm for my work and contribution.

My deepest gratitude goes to my illustrator Jung Shan from Taiwan for taking the time to bring this novel alive with her amazing artwork. Jung's Chinese ink style is second to none and her contribution alone completely turned this project around. Eternal gratitude to her.

Finally, I would like to extend my biggest thanks and gratitude to my husband and gaming partner Anthony Figueroa to whom I dedicate this book to. His constant encouragement and love of video-games kept me on this path of the writer's way.

*****

Chapter 1:

COLD VISIT

She clenched her fists against her temple, pounding hard to drive the voice out of her head. Perhaps with enough force, she could make herself believe that this was just another nightmare, or a small case of dementia. But the more she smacked herself, the louder he laughed, deafening her senses to the harsh raindrops that plummeted around her.

"It's not me talking," Tawnya mumbled to herself, unconvinced. "Ignore it, just ignore it."

She hesitated for a moment, feeling thick incessant raindrops roll down her face. Her hazel eyes squinted into the piercing darkness, hoping that someone would find her in time, but the vast emptiness seemed to have her surrounded. After just two hours of downpour, the small Japanese countryside north of Kansai was near to flooding. She staggered forward into the sloshing puddle, watching flooded trees bend in the wind against hot air. Her breath was short but the humidity was nothing compared to the evil darkness she felt overpowering her.

" _Follow him. Make him feel pain."_

"I won't," she sputtered at the voice, her words barely audible. "I...can't..."

" _We are one,"_ he yelled at her. _"It is a fact you cannot control."_

There was an explosion, followed by billowing dark gray smoke. She halted at the distraction, but only for a second.

" _RUN!"_ the voice commanded.

Tawnya obeyed. She had to in order to survive. She clutched at her chest, wanting to at least control the harsh thumping of her racing heart, but it was useless. Her body was merely a tool.

" _He is close,"_ the deep voice rumbled. _"Bring him to me."_

Her panting grew louder and more desperate for air in the stiflingly muggy atmosphere. Her arms flailed wildly as she turned her head this way and that, only to see nothing but darkness. She turned, darting in the opposite direction on a different path where the clouds of smoke were thickest. The cardigan around her waist slapped against her wet jeans. It was almost impossible to run through the flood.

" _His name is Ryu...Call for him."_

"RYU!" Tawnya cried in terror, trying to overpower the sound of her solitary voice to a near scream.

Then something ferocious sizzled towards her. Tawnya held herself stiff as she watched a great fireball speed by her, a scalding tangible energy that exploded against the wooden bridge. The flames shot up high into the air, producing a burning heat that would have been welcomed in the cold season. Tawnya thirstily sucked precipitation from her lips, then opened her parched mouth to the dark falling deluge.

She suddenly smiled at the burning bridge, feeling an unnatural excitement at the enviable control she had over Ryu. It was only a matter of time before the Dark Hadou would eat away at his soul, little by little, all and completely. Only then would he be ready to fight.

She shook her head, exasperated and frightened by these alien thoughts.

"Get outta my head," Tawnya said aloud, pounding at her temples again. She felt frightened of this _thing_ controlling her actions and using her body to do its bidding beyond the burden of exhaustion.

"No, no!" she screamed, lifting her hands to her ears to silence him, but the vicious stab of his voice forced her to collapse into the deep puddle.

"Please..." she begged, "don't make me do it again..." but her shaking hand had already retrieved the knife from her back pocket.

Biting her lips hard, Tawnya found herself peering at the weapon with a horrible lack of remorse. The veins on her arm appeared prominently as her gloved right hand gripped the knife tighter, drawing the jagged blade against her clammy skin. She swallowed hard, lost in the sickening conflict that swelled like an infection inside her. Despite her conscience screaming to rebel, _he_ would make her do it.

" _Something to remind you of this night."_

"This night...?" she echoed him dazedly.

" _The night of your true connection with Ryu."_

"To mark this night, for my own good," Tawnya said in an even clear tone. Her mind blanked out from her own thoughts, as the pointed edge pierced her skin to engrave Ryu's name. The throbbing wound gushed an abhorrent red as the blade sliced out another uneven letter. Her expression had become wickedly amused. She knew from the way Ryu had looked at her that he finally felt that connection with her too. An association. A relationship. Something. The sharp pain only made her chortle.

" _For tonight."_ His laughter echoed, mocking her.

Tawnya hurled, looking away from the blood that broke her out of the trance. Her fingers trailed into a lukewarm puddle, letting the knife slip with a loud plop. The trickling blood escaped down her fingers as she gripped the pounding wound tight. She stood to release the stiffness in her knees but her sight blurred from her light-headedness.

For a moment, there was complete silence. Tawnya tried to relax but her body froze, petrified, hearing a haughty laugh that was followed by a loud finger snap. She hoped it was only a hallucination caused by the evening heat. Yet she held her breath ready to scream, in case she was met by the man that controlled her.

"Tsk, tsk. A murky green aura. You should be ashamed." The voice was evidently female with a faint Italian accent. Her voice had almost an echoing, hallucinatory air to it.

Tawnya turned to find a tall figure looking down at her. Her long legs were shapely, and the tautness of her calf muscles suggested she wore heels that withstood wet pastures. Her presence was almost celestial.

Rose spoke softly, protected by a large umbrella that casted a shadow over her face. Her fingers were slim, gripping the umbrella rod like a glass of fine wine. "Emotional conflict, dependency, passiveness... I see you are consumed."

Tawnya's body was limp. She looked so afraid, quivering like a child lost in war that it was all too easy for Rose to tower majestically over her. It was difficult to breathe. Tawnya felt a sense of smothering that was almost asphyxiation. Light-headed, she noticed the shallow flooding that surrounded them resembled blood. Her gaze quickly shifted to the yellow satin scarf that fluttered around Rose's arms, which was the same color as the large buttons on the side of her mauve dress.

"You are an easy target," her vibrant cherry mouth whispered. "Fear is a stumbling block to both development and self-awareness. It is the ego that has been hurt and feels vulnerable, not you."

"Get away from me," Tawnya commanded with a shaky tone. "I've got a knife," she warned, patting the back of her jeans. Her eyes widened in horror. The pocket was empty.

"Shit," she gasped, and splashed water at the stranger, but suddenly she felt her throat constrict as shoots of blue sparks rhythmically smacked into her chest.

Rose pulled back the yellow scarf, which flickered and buzzed with electricity. She raised her head, her face now fully showing from the shadows of darkness. Her sudden smile seemed silently threatening. Her emerald green eyes glistened against the flames from the bridge up ahead.

"You will go after him, just as the devil goes after you," Rose cautioned, her face serious.

Tawnya shrieked, holding her bloodstained hands to her ears while Rose laughed haughtily. There was a high-pitched vibration, and it was becoming agonizingly loud as the strident thump of her beating heart was thrusting her senses into panic. She felt her skull ache as image after image of Ryu entered her helpless retinas. His red headband flickered wildly against the wind caused by the growing orange fireball that was encased fearsomely within his palms. His eyes leered dangerously back at her. The heavy crease in his brow made him look crazed.

"GO AWAY!" Tawnya screamed in pain, almost crouching.

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her fingers into her lids until the images would vanish, but something forced them open. Tawnya drew one long breath, refocusing her gaze at the yellow scarf that draped over Rose's chest, but her sight blurred into a sickened double vision. She huffed and puffed, trying to breathe in as much oxygen as she could, but felt herself grow weak.

" _Keep running,"_ his demonic voice yelled at her, but she was beyond listening. The pain was too much to bear. She tried wiping the blotches of blood from her gray tank top, but the harder she rubbed, the more pain she felt on her chest from the constant friction. The bleeding wouldn't stop, the voices continued to blare.

The street was quiet, except for the patter of rain. Tawnya felt another sharp twinge in her chest. It was silent for only a second before her screaming began again.

*****

Chapter 2:

DARK HADOU

The rain came down even heavier, causing the water of the local river to overflow the bank. In the shallow flood, Ryu could no longer run as successfully, but he couldn't stop, either. This was the wrong place to have come. Small villages dotted around this lowland countryside. He knew that now from hearing their horror-filled cries in the midst of his attack, but it was too late. He had already unleashed total annihilation upon the village he intruded. He couldn't stop himself.

The closer the woman approached him, the stronger was the horrible compulsion to destroy everything around him with a force that he could not control. It was as though his animalistic self had been opened, like Pandora's Box. As he realized what he had done, a shiver of panic trembled in his stomach.

Ryu collapsed, having finally found a solid wall to lean against. Hurried air escaped his shuddering mouth as he tried to recover a normal breathing pattern. He scrunched his fist shut, open, then shut again in an effort to keep warm, but he couldn't keep himself from breaking down. His tightly shut eyes only forced tears to leak down his face.

"...must...focus," he gritted his teeth in writhing pain.

With great effort, he entwined his fingers behind his back, refraining himself from forming another lethal fireball, even though a sense of relief would wash over him if he did. He stared straight ahead, feeling a constriction in his chest. Even at this distance, he could still see the glimmering light of the burning bridge that he had just destroyed, and it tormented him. Ryu recoiled at the sight of it, curling into his chest to relieve his angst.

"This cannot be happening again," he groaned under his breath. "I...have to...stop..."

He gripped the back of his head, trying to push the scalding energy back to its core.

"The Dark Hadou can't have returned--" he tried to say, but he suddenly felt a harsh twinge, harder than any punch he had ever taken.

A tingle ran down his spine, tensing up his muscles and forcing his body forward. His face creased from the aching pressure in his chest as his body shook in a crouched stance. He knew he had to fight it. He had to. Being captivated by this dark power was not an option. He crushed his fist against his ribs until his fingers were aching with the effort. He willed himself again and again to make this evil force he felt to disappear.

For as long as he could remember, Ryu had one purpose in life: to better himself as a martial artist. Mentally. Physically. Spiritually. It was a lifestyle he had adopted from his foster father, Master Gouken, and it was a path he continued to follow as a tribute to him. Ryu knew deep down that he could never perfect the Shotokan style without also embedding the Dark Hadou, a technique known only to a few masters and perfected by one. He would rather die than become anything like Gouken's murderer, Akuma, the brother whose soul was tainted by the powers of the Dark Hadou.

In the plunging raindrops, Ryu could see images of Akuma, his gnarling teeth bright against his darkened face that faintly outlined a human smile. The return of the Dark Hadou terrorized him. Akuma must be alive.

"The dark powers can't be back without you," Ryu said quivering. He hugged his body against the warm sheet of rain that continually washed over him. "I will not let you manipulate me again."

It was Akuma's ultimate wish to fight someone stronger than he was, and it was his greatest desire to see Ryu embrace the Dark Hadou. This source of limitless strength and power was an insult to Gouken's teachings, and for this reason Ryu knew he had to stop strengthening the Shotokan arts, in order to eradicate this malignancy.

"Good intentions harness positive potential," Gouken's voice echoed.

Ryu's heart shook. A hazy vision of his Master was before him. His face hadn't aged at all in over twenty years. The side of his hair reached down as far as the ground even though he was balding fast on top.

"You must not succumb to your power. In its place, master it."

"I did," Ryu spoke aloud, with his solid arms outstretched. He gazed with despair at the stormy sky. "At least, I thought I did," he muttered, sounding as morose as he looked. He seemed to have completely lost sight of Gouken's basic principles.

Dipping his head low, Ryu addressed Gouken in a voice thickened by grief and helplessness.

"I was sure that moving away from Shotokan would weaken my powers. If I stopped strengthening our arts, Sensei, I thought I could live at peace. I...I believed..."

Ryu shuddered. Killing Akuma gave him a reason to never compete in a fight again. He had mixed Shotokan with other martial arts style with the belief that the power of the Dark Hadou would abate. He was strong-minded to resist the dark arts, and there was no way he would give up all that he had worked for, all these long years.

"I'm nothing like you," Ryu said to his nemesis, quivering. He waved away the evocative raindrops that had made him see Akuma, but the image of his enemy didn't disappear.

Akuma's body was covered in muscles that looked like they had been chiseled from stone, and his hair rippled in colors of flame, framing a face that was part human, part gargoyle. He looked upon the world through eyes that blazed an angry red, a reflection of his inner unquenchable rage.

"Why do you still torment me?" Ryu said, punching again at the raindrops that summoned his worst nightmare.

"The warrior's code is the method by which a man defeats his opponents," he heard his Master Gouken say, his voice deep and serious. The flowing bristles of his graying moustache fluttered as he whispered the code to Ryu in a looping mantra.

Ryu kept himself still, feeling so small. His arm was undersized compared to the thick branch sprouting from Gouken's shoulder. He knew those arms could easily crush him, even if Gouken was relaxed.

"Sensei! Master!" he cried, hunched over from the heartbreak he felt. "I tried so hard...so hard... not to be like him...but..."

He hid his face in his hands for a second, ashamed that he could still compare himself to Akuma.

"I haven't fought anyone since that fight," Ryu shuddered, feeling sickened by Akuma's memory. "I promised to not fight again until I could control my own strength and master my own style, just as you had. I would train alone, every day, to strengthen my mind and cleanse my soul, but even with my restraint, I see nothing but the destruction I create."

He sighed, turning his head to the side in an effort to avoid Gouken's gaze. Even to this day, Ryu knew he could not be around people without obliterating the very path he walked on. He couldn't bear to endure the continuous nightmares, if he were to suffer under the Dark Hadou again. Quivering in fear, he squeezed his jaw tight with his hand to release the tension on his face.

"I am stronger," he told himself aloud, "...and even more disciplined since the Third Strike tournament..." but his voice was shaking with resentment.

"The warrior's code is the method by which a man defeats his opponents," Gouken repeated, in the same tone, with equal emphasis.

"But, Sensei," Ryu's voice trembled, "...even in Akuma's absence, the Dark Hadou is still trapped inside me..."

He turned, expecting Gouken to be with him still. Instead, he saw only the darkness of the misty countryside surrounding him.

"Sensei," Ryu said, looking around him in desperation.

He wiped his wet face against his sweat-drenched mitts. His heart pounded harder and faster, probing the shadows, just in case Gouken was hiding, but only the bridge caught his sight.

Distraught, he tried to force himself to picture Gouken again, hoping for his Master to speak to him, even if what he said did little to comfort him. He needed Gouken to materialize again, help him think positive thoughts, and reassure him that he was on the path of enlightenment. But Gouken seemed as far away from him as he could ever be.

"Why aren't you there for me anymore?" Ryu implored his mentor, his voice echoed at full volume. "Why do I feel this Dark Hadou? SENSEI..." Ryu sputtered into a cry, falling onto his knees as he sensed the loss of his dead master all over again.

"WHY HAVE YOU ABANDONED ME?"

*****

Chapter 3:

MEMORY

With a mumbling groan, Tawnya opened her eyes, quickly lifting her arm to shade them from the piercing ceiling light that pricked them. She was lying flat on the floor like an abandoned package. Her clothes were still damp around the edges, and moisture pebbled her skin.

"Agh, my damn head!"

Struggling, Tawnya dragged herself up against the cracked-paint wall. She placed a gentle hand on her aching forehead, feeling sick and out of place. Her pupils followed the large black fly that buzzed noisily against the hot bulb, then she scanned the area.

She was not inside her apartment but seated in the lobby room of the building. This was a new system. Security cameras monitored the halls, checking for thieves and graffiti gangs. It was a common crime in this neighborhood of Osaka. There was no air conditioning, the ceiling leaked into the bedroom, the window view was unsightly and she was sure cockroaches roamed in the darkness. Tawnya wanted to laugh when this apartment was first offered to her. Her reputation and fortune could not buy her into a luxury penthouse, not even through her colleague. These days, Japanese property owners distrusted foreigners with their assets, forcing her to take this awful room. It didn't matter anymore. She had to put up with Osaka for just a few more days before finishing the shoot in Los Angeles.

Her muddy leather boots squeaked as she hobbled along the lobby, leaving drips of water that dribbled from her skin. Her breath quickened, and she strained her mind hard to recall her actions just a few hours ago. She breathed against her hand and sniffed. No sign of alcohol but her hands smelled metallic.

"Must have been at another party," she decided, reaching the ledge of the door for a spare key.

Her vision blurred, yet she noticed fresh grazes that covered her bare arms. A single piece of satin banded her arm, with its loose end tucked neatly underneath. Tawnya convulsed, feeling her heart rate shoot into quick mini pulses. She was hurt, bad, and she had no idea how or why.

"What the hell did I do?" she asked herself, but no matter how hard she tried to think, she was drawing blanks.

Tawnya fumbled, blindly pushing the key into the rusting hole before swinging the door wide open. With an irritated moan, she entered her dark muggy apartment. She felt dizzy seeing slashes across her arm, but the darkness disguised them for a few seconds until the motion sensor colored the hallway with a flickering fluorescent light. The blue carpet turned a dirty gray as she wrung her wet, hip-length hair with her hands. Feeling something sting her, she hissed. It was the terrible wound that hid behind the satin.

The curtains in the bedroom were drawn shut. The neighborhood buildings were old, mostly brick, so they were hardly worth opening. Comforted by the darkness, Tawnya removed her clothes one by one until she was standing naked in front of the half-cracked mirror that spanned the length of her body. She positioned her hair to cover her breasts, sighing amorously from its cold touch. Finally sensing movement, the bedroom lights wheezed into life in their last kilowatt of energy.

A vulnerable woman stared back wide-eyed in the reflection. Tawnya's bronze skin was freckled with sunspots, and her face looked sunken as if she had nothing to eat for days, yet she hardly cared. Gingerly, she lifted her finger to her bottom lip. There was a small cut. She licked her lips, instantly feeling queasy from their harsh taste. She then traced the words, いつまでもリュウon her pelvis. The vibrant red tattoo only intensified in color against the dull brown tone of her damp skin.

"Hurry up and heal, damn it," she sighed, cautiously feeling its bumpy texture.

She was unable to remember when this 'Forever Ryu' scar was etched into her skin, or the black tattoo 天 on her left wrist. Whenever it was, it was out of choice and did much damage to her famed image.

Fearfully Tawnya unwound the yellow satin from her arm, curious to learn what she had done to herself this time. The wound stung the instant air touched it, revealing stark red lettering that glowed in the light. Gasping, Tawnya buckled to her knees, weakened by the sight of her own blood. Her body was marked by his name, and his name alone, and it frightened her more than the voice she would hear from time to time. She grabbed her arm, panicked, turning quickly in search of a fresh cloth, but suddenly she felt choked.

"He will get you," Rose laughed at her.

Tawnya jumped, shocked by the abrupt voice.

"Where are you?" she said, hugging her unclothed body. She scanned the empty room with wide eyes.

"Your dream will end you if you get too close to making it real," Rose continued to laugh. The voice was threatening, like an echo haunting her mind.

"Look behind you," Rose's voice commanded.

Tawnya shook her head, scared, but her keen sense of curiosity took over. Slowly she turned around, expecting to see Rose standing boldly behind her, but her pupils filled with the sight of tarot cards covering the ashen wall. Sensing nostalgia, Tawnya bit her lip. Grabbing the unmade bed sheet around her, she tugged hard at a random card and examined it in her trembling hand.

"A rose?" she expressed at first glance.

Each card was marked with an exquisitely drawn rose, with thin black lines coloring the edges of the red petals; it was the same shade of red as Ryu's headband.

"Oh God, no," she mumbled at the sudden memory.

Tawnya watched Ryu crumble to the ground, screaming in pain the closer she drew near him. His once-sweet eyes would fill with pure hatred and vengeance from her presence alone. She had made him turn into something...a force of destruction that only she could provoke. Then, she would harm herself as a reminder of _his_ control - the voice in her head. Desolation came over her with crippling strength. Tawnya was under _his_ control, and Ryu was hers.

She gripped the card, cringing at the thought of her wounds, then felt her finger throb. The edge of the card had pricked her finger like the sharp thorn of a rose. Blood dripped onto the white bed sheet wrapped around her.

Her vision blurred momentarily, and the color drained from her face. Within seconds, Tawnya crashed thunderously to the floor as the small card twirled elegantly through the air.

*****

Chapter 4:

PROMISE

The smoke had finally died down after the cascading rain flushed over the fire. It was amazing to see all the villagers pull together in such emergency. Even the children helped to wake the elderly to the disaster in the dead of night. But while the community tended to the electrical blaze, Guy ran through the burning terrain to reach the man responsible for the arson. As one of the fastest and most competent ninjas in the clan, he was sure he could bring justice to the community by capturing the perpetrator.

It must have been six hours since he ventured off. Six hours of torment and wasted time. It was now dawn, with the usual twittering of birds. Guy sighed, rubbing his sooty face in despair as he sat down on a log, frustrated at himself for returning empty-handed. Since coming to Japan, he had failed to do anything right for the village. As he ran through the countryside closing in on the perpetrator's trail, it was inconceivable why he was unable to continue forward. The intense overbearing power he felt had him crippled. The further he moved from the village, the less he was able to do. But that was no excuse for his shameful failure.

"It was probably the smoke fumes that weakened my focus and judgment," Guy said through gritted teeth. He didn't care whether the old man next to him listened or not. "I have no idea. Such evil weight, it was in my heart...something dark. I didn't even have the energy to walk. Agh, even so--"

Perhaps with a little more perseverance, he would have caught up to the man responsible for the arson, and confronted him. Guy was the fastest, best-trained and most intuitive ninja. He sighed, frustrated, burying his face in his hands.

"...it must be my living in the city that has weakened my stamina. I'm not as agile as I used to be. I'm forgetting everything. I just know that if I get back into training with you again, I'll be back in top form. I...I...damn, I totally blew it. I don't know what happened out there."

"I did not ask for you to do that for me, Guy," Genryusai spoke calmly, despite the hurrying sense of impatience that was beginning to develop. "I felt the strong aura too and decided even before the attack to not approach him."

"How could I have not gone after him?" Guy blurted, stunned at Genryusai's complete lack of fervor.

"Be thankful that nobody was hurt."

"Does it matter though?" Guy continued to argue, flustered. "It happened but it shouldn't have. I could have stopped him. In fact, I should still be out there hunting this maniac."

Guy stood abruptly, ready to run, but felt his jogging bottom tugged by an old dry hand.

"Sit," Genryusai demanded. "There is little need for you to prove yourself. Not with regard to your faithfulness to our ninjitsu arts, at least."

"But that attack, the clan, they could have proven themselves against him, and you could have put ninjitsu back on the map," Guy urgently suggested. "Maybe I should stay in Japan a little longer, at least until I know who is responsible."

"Guilt, Guy, is not an honorable trait for one to have," Genryusai said, in between fits of coughing. "There is little point chasing something that is far gone."

Genryusai looked at him with a hint of disappointment, not understanding why Guy was so persistent in wanting to stay with them. Guy's duties were abroad, to take care of Genryusai's daughters in his absence, and live in a more sustainable world.

"We can start over again," Genryusai said, smiling. The lines around his eyes crinkled. "Things happen for a reason, remember. Now we can rebuild this village into a modern society, not having to rely on old methods. You can even tell me stories of how you live in America. Perhaps we can adapt."

Guy sighed, not knowing what he could say to his second master. He expected nothing more from Genryusai, who continually pried into his private life and wanted to know everything there was about his livelihood in Los Angeles. Being a ninja in this day and age had little worth in Japanese society. No matter how hard Genryusai tried to pass on the Bushin style to whoever was interested, the ninja lifestyle no longer appealed to the younger crowd. It made no money and had little use to modern life. In a commercial world filled with technology, Guy understood clearly why Genryusai was so adamant for able members to leave, but he was torn with guilt over having neglected this village for too long.

The man sitting next to him looked almost unrecognizable. It was unbearable to see him in this state, shaky, withering and old. Despite his small stature, Genryusai had always been a man of great strength and formidable presence. Today he was just a normal man enjoying what little of nature was left around him.

"I don't want to live not knowing what is happening with you," Genryusai wheezed, still suffering from heavy smoke inhalation. "It is most unsettling, Guy, most unsettling. If your father was alive, I'm sure he would agree too."

"Master, stop ignoring what I'm saying!" Guy yelled in an unruly manner, then he stopped himself from shouting. He hated disruptive mumblings.

Genryusai clutched the black blanket tighter around his body, staring oddly at the only beautiful thing left in the village: the flowing river of Iga.

"I have heard what you had to say, but for the sake of my patience, I request that you stop talking about what has been and concentrate on other areas. If you want to help, look around you. There are plenty of jobs to pick before you leave."

As requested, Guy looked around. Nearly everything was destroyed. Very few trees had survived in their natural form, homes needed rebuilding, and the only bridge that had connected the village to the main city no longer existed. Guy recognized that a man who could rouse such power by simply using his fists is no ordinary man. The continuous rain had simply intensified the electrical energy ball to travel and destroy the bridge.

"Stop thinking about it," Genryusai advised, putting a gentle arm on his former student's back. "Anguish will get you nowhere, but the villagers and I appreciate your efforts."

"Appreciate my efforts?" Guy retorted, as if it were an insult. "If I can't even prevent one man from destroying one fishing village, what good can the other students be?"

Genryusai gruffed, nodding his head in agreement.

"We ninja make a promise to serve and protect our masters, our people and our country. It is our honor to do so."

Genryusai wheezed again in an effort to stifle laughter.

"I mean it," Guy snapped, his jaw tightening.

"You do not know the meaning of honor."

"What do you mean?" he recoiled. An uncomfortable knot formed in his stomach.

Genryusai cocked a smile, bearing his missing front teeth that had nothing to do with old age. He had simply lost too many fights to stronger opponents.

"I cannot recall how many years have passed, my son, but I do remember you pledging your heart to forever look after my snowdrops."

Guy wanted to groan with irritation. Genryusai's daughters were the last thing he wanted to discuss, especially when running on no sleep. He pressed his lips together, staring at his mentor with narrowed eyes. There was no doubt that Genryusai had been trying to talk about his "snowdrops" from the very day Guy had arrived. This time, there was nowhere for him to run.

Genryusai suddenly looked serious. The thought of his daughters made him feel solemn.

"I may die today. I may die tomorrow," Genryusai started with a shudder. "We cannot tell what the future holds for us, so I want things resolved before I move on."

"Master, I hate it when you talk like this," Guy confessed, dropping his gaze to his muddy red sneakers.

Genryusai took Guy's shoulder with both hands and looked him in the eye. It was strange to see the color in his irises fading. Guy had never noticed that his eyes had a tint of blue, a feature Genryusai's two daughters most certainly had not inherited.

"So, when will you finally do it?"

Guy scratched his head, feeling Genryusai's fingers digging deep into his shoulder. "Master, it isn't as easy as--"

"Do not make excuses, boy," Genryusai yelled, striking Guy in the face with his palm. "I cannot have you side stepping this conversation anymore. You made a promise and you will respect it, even if I have to force you."

Genryusai's face was stern. His gaze bore into Guy like a laser. Guy couldn't help but stare back, unwavering.

"You have said so yourself that ninjas are honorable, and they serve this purpose by protecting. Your acceptance of the proposal to my daughter was honorable, but leaving her to wait is not respectable."

Guy pressed his lips together, thinking of Maki and Rena. He couldn't reveal the truth about his relationships with Genryusai's daughters, nor could he set a wedding date that he could credit. He had to make a decision, one that he must live with for the rest of his life, and he hated it more than the thought of failing as a ninja. Guy wanted to cry in frustration, wishing he could turn back time to undo this mistake, but simply avoiding the topic did him no good. The smack to the face still stung him, but he shook the burn off and sighed again.

"I don't like your sighing, Guy," Genryusai mumbled. "Now, I entrusted you with this important duty. I chose you from all my disciples to honor the promise of looking after my daughter once I am gone. Maki is strong and has proven to me time and time again that she does not need someone to rely on. Rena, however, does. She is much less independent, and she is my eldest child, after all. I must see one of my daughters wed-locked before I move on. Please, you must do what you can to keep her safe and happy."

Guy nodded halfheartedly, his gaze following the pieces of wood that swam in the river.

"I do not need your help here as much as I need you to keep this promise to me. Guy, you must return to America and complete the engagement once and for all, and do so before my time runs out."

"Yes, Master," Guy agreed meekly, unable to find the strength to argue, despite his desperation to dispute the matter.

Genryusai smiled crookedly, ruffling Guy's hair. "Good. And, call me Dad."

*****

Chapter 5:

REUNION

It was unusual to be greeted by a cool dry climate in the middle of June, but the arid atmosphere did little to lift Ryu's mood. He thanked the monks who had taken him into their run-down monastery before journeying on foot to Osaka airport. He had already walked a mile along the straight road, ignoring the exhaustion he felt in his heavy body. Sleep had been difficult. He had been unable to switch his mind off, and he refused the nourishments offered by the kind monks.

His mind was busy seeking a reason. First, the Dark Hadou had returned. Second, Tawnya Blaze was somehow responsible for it. His emotions, Ryu realized, were a minefield of contradictions – the desire for tranquility, the fear of losing control, the sadness of being alone. He felt as though he was trapped in a recurring nightmare. His head spun in answerless circles.

Desperate to locate Ken, Ryu picked up his pace in a jog but the unbearable cramp trembling in his calf muscle forced him to slow down. It had been over seven years since he and Ken met in person. He was secretly hoping that Ken would help him make sense of all this. If anyone could understand, it was most likely to be his best friend.

Ryu dragged his fingers over his face to smooth away the knotted muscles. He flitted the red headband away from his eyes. It was still a little bit hazy for an afternoon, but the chirping of birds roused his thoughts of Gouken lecturing him and Ken about the fundamental similarities between birds and women. It made Ryu blush to even think of such a strange memory, but at least it was a happy one. It was a time when he still had Gouken and Ken as his family.

"Women are like birds," Gouken had begun, stroking his graying beard. He softly looked at his young students who sat crossed-legged opposite him, with plates of rice and beef curry resting on their laps.

"They are beautiful, graceful, but when you call to them, they will fly away. A gentleman should always be gentle, never menacing; charming, but never brash. No sign of indecency should be found in his approach. His appreciation should have a balance, and a minor mistake should always be corrected without hesitation. Then, and only then, must one advance.

"Think of a spinning arrow if you are at a loss for direction. This arrow will show you your path to a secret fulfillment. Listen to the spirits around you; in the earth, in the water and in the sky, where the purity of the heavens open. Listen with your heart and these spirits will guide you down the right path.

"For birds and women alike come from above. Like birds, women are aware of what men are capable of. Once you have chosen your path, your charms will excel and elicit trust, thus their wings shall open to you. Remember boys, to find the right partner, you have to make the effort to show your true potential, not through speech or physical contact, but with your heart."

Ken always referred to women as "birds" after Gouken's puzzling elucidation of how women are attracted. Keen to test the philosophy, he practiced on every female that visited the training shrine, young or old. However, his brash personality soon brought about another style of flirting. Ryu took no notice of the girls that visited. Sometimes, he felt he was the bird who would shy away, not because he had little courage, but because he was never shown the arrow. The arrow had nothing to do with physical combat, but with the internal fights in the heart. Perhaps that was what was missing in his life, and he was now walking in the direction of that spinning arrow.

The chirps of crickets that hid beneath the bushes replaced the songs of the birds. The expression on Ryu's face changed from confusion to concentration as he picked up the pace into a full-on power walk. The sandals on his feet made wet clapping noises as they tried to catch up to his soles, but even that sound became overpowered by the blur of loud, throbbing beats of music behind him on the road. Ryu couldn't help but smile at the sudden disturbance.

"Typical Ken," he murmured aloud with a smirk, turning his head to see a red Toyota Supra speeding towards him.

The car was immaculate. The bonnet glistened with a recently waxed polish, and it was clearly custom-made. Having lived in Japan for over twenty years had encouraged Ken to drive a left-handed car. He most certainly was a proud American and loved to showcase himself in style.

The car jerked forward with a roaring downshift, and the horn beeped over the screaming guitars. The vehicle skidded to a halt, creating a cloud of smoke.

Ken leapt out of the car in one swift movement, then leaned up against the passenger door in almost a model pose. Ryu half-smiled, giving him a "An _other_ car?" look.

"Hey buddy, one of us has to have some style. Speaking of which, you're looking _'_ sharp' as ever, I see."

Ken folded his arms with a cocky smirk, shaking his head at Ryu's general appearance. Ryu's off-white gi was undeniably old, with the sleeves ripped away at the shoulder, leaving untidy threads to flail. His trousers were two inches too short, revealing strong white ankles that had never seen the sun, unlike the rest of him. And Ken couldn't believe Ryu still wore the red headband around his head. It was the very same ribbon Ken had once given him as a gift to mark their friendship. Some things just never changed.

"I'd offer you a lift to where ever you're going to, but judging by your outfit"---Ken waved a finger at Ryu's martial arts uniform---"I can see you've begun training and all. Jeez, take a break, man. You could _almost_ make me look bad...almost."

Ryu's face relaxed into a more natural smile. He had almost been anxious that Ken would have acted a little apprehensive, but he should have known Ken not to let his wit down.

"You know me too well," Ryu said, bumping his fist against Ken's.

He was relieved to see that Ken made no special effort for him. He was dressed in his usual casual attire, wearing an oversized designer shirt that buried a green tank top and a pair of faded shorts. Same music, same style, same attitude, though his blonde hair was a little shorter than what Ryu was used to seeing.

His reflection was distracted when he felt his arm tapped by a gentle punch. Ken bounced on the balls of his feet, jabbing left and right in quick succession.

"Are you ready to spar, karate man?" Ken winked, warming his muscles with a short kata that Gouken had once taught them. "Just like old times, heh?"

Ryu touched his stubbly face wearily, not having thought of how his appearance might have been changed by dealing with the Dark Hadou.

There was no telling whether Ken had been training or not. His shirt was quite the camouflage, revealing no sign of how physically built he was, but Ryu felt apprehensive by the offer of a friendly match. It was too dangerous. Ken peered at him with suspicious eyes, his arms lax by his side.

"Okay, your spirits a little damp, but we can fix that," Ken said with a forced half-grin, expecting to see Ryu's face thin with dark circles under his eyes, just like the last time. His tiredness was apparent though. "I'm assuming you're still out on the street day and night perfecting your latest moves, right?"

Ryu shrugged nonchalantly.

"Figured. I've been trying to get my kid to train. Ain't easy."

"How old is Mel now? Sixteen?" Ryu asked, relieved that he wasn't forced to spar. He would have only embarrassed himself with sloppy mistakes.

"No way, he's not _that_ old," Ken said rolling his eyes at the comment. "He recently turned fourteen. Mel's at the age where he thinks his parents aren't cool. How crazy is that? Me, not cool anymore? Can you believe it? He was actually embarrassed at how long my hair was, so I had to cut it above the shoulder just to prove a point." Ken shrugged.

Ryu always believed Mel would grow up to be the smaller version of Ken; a brash young child who wanted to learn the martial arts from his father, wearing the same red karate gi and practicing the same flashy moves. Ryu wondered why Mel no longer epitomized his father. He hadn't the faintest idea of how children developed.

"For all it's worth, I don't think Japan can handle another version of you," Ryu tried to joke.

Ken grunted. "I hear him punch the bags in the basement once in a while, but he likes doing it in private, even away from Sean. He's shy with that kinda stuff. Dunno what the big deal is. Sean tries to get him to train all the time, but I guess that's all part of growing up."

Smiling up at him, Ryu said, "I remember you hiding out in the forest after you lost your first match to me."

"No, I didn't," Ken blushed, recalling the embarrassment he had felt when he was defeated by a basic maneuver.

Ryu smiled. "I'm surprised the Brazilian kid still lives with you."

"Sean? Oh yeah," Ken said, a little flustered. "He's become like a brother to Mel. It's hard to keep them apart. Granted, he's still struggling with his training, and hasn't won a single tournament to date. Sean gets easily bored when I can't coach him, so he picks on Mel, which drives Liz insane."

"Sean never liked me dropping by, did he?" Ryu paused, reflecting the time when he first traveled to San Francisco. "Remember how he used to trick us into sparring one another?"

"Yeah, I remember," Ken grinned. "And I kicked your ass."

Ryu smiled back.

"Not easy juggling business and pleasure, my friend."

"I can't imagine you training the kids the way Gouken Sensei trained us."

"You got that right," Ken said, grunting. "Master Gouken had way too much energy. I don't really have the time to bury myself in all that the way he did. To be honest, Sean was just an excuse for me to train once in a while, keep some loose ties with competitive fighting and all."

Ken rolled his eyes to the steering wheel, quickly switching his music track from _Atreyu_ to _Pantera_. He failed to tell Ryu about the promise he had made to his wife, the decisive sacrifice to abandon his fighting habits for a steady domestic life. Falling under silence, Ken continued.

"You see, it's not easy being a father and a husband...the master _and_ the entrepreneur. Eliza is more demanding than Mel, if you know what I mean," he chuckled nervously, nudging Ryu as he did so. "I'm like the cuter version of Godzilla in bed. She loves it, really."

Ryu laughed but the complex look he gave Ken was a mix of amusement and embarrassment.

"Women are complicated though," Ken felt himself say glumly. "You'd think quitting the fight would be enough to keep the family together. It's not like I need to work for money or anything, heh, not when I'm the only son of the Masters. Isn't that adrenaline rush a wonderful thing, when in the midst of battle, Ryu? You can't find that anywhere, heh, not even in bed. That great feeling of knowing you're in control, relying on your strengths alone."

Ken looked at Ryu almost searchingly, letting his cocky smile drop a bit. He still felt raw about Eliza's behavior. She shouldn't have kicked him out of the house, just because she had overheard his conversation about leaving for Japan. Sometimes Ken wished he had Ryu's life, having the freedom to roam around the world for one purpose. It seemed unfair that he had to prioritize his time around his family and all the other humdrum that life threw at him. Ryu did nothing but train to become stronger, with no interest in women or having a family. Perhaps leading a solitary life was better than focusing one's energy on a family. Or maybe that was more pleasurable than winning against a difficult challenger. Ken turned to his friend, watching Ryu return the gaze with similar sorrow in his eyes.

Lowering the sound on the stereo, Ken forced a wavering smile. "You're all muscles, dude. Ladies love that," he boasted, pinching Ryu's relaxed triceps. "I don't understand how you can ignore all the beautiful ladies that walk by you. At least you have the freedom to choose."

Ryu wanted to laugh, feeling fortunate to have roused the memory of Gouken's bird philosophy earlier.

"I'm just not interested," he answered matter-of-factly.

"What about this hot chick that's been on your case? Surely, she's caught your eye one way or another. Unless you made her up to lure me back to Japan. I mean, I'm flattered that you've been missing me and all, but Liz would get jealous."

Ken snickered, shaking his head.

Ryu couldn't look at him anymore. Despite Ken's obvious tact to lighten the mood, he instantly felt nervous. He had no idea how to start talking about _her._ He took a deep breath to calm his anxiety. Ken was content to be silent, to let him take the opportunity.

"No, she's real all right," Ryu said disappointingly, unfastening his red combat mitts. The veins on his hands were large and throbbing. "Her presence that night felt frightfully peculiar, as if Akuma was there, enticing me to embrace the Dark Hadou against all my strength and desire. It's taken me this long to get over what I did to him. In complete isolation I've repented my actions, to the point where fighting someone makes my stomach curl."

Staring at Ken, his voice faltered. The red veins in his eyes grew intense, and he suddenly grabbed Ken by the tuft of his shirt.

"Tell me he's alive, Ken," Ryu demanded, desperately. "Tell me I didn't make it up...that the Dark Hadou has returned because of him and him only..."

Ken's face went blank, and he was speechless at Ryu's ill composure. Ryu and Akuma attracted one another like electrically charged chemicals that constantly battled. He had witnessed with his own eyes the attack that killed Akuma. The flash of the deadly _Metsu Hadouken_ was still emblazoned in his mind. Briefly, Ken considered his response.

"He's gone, Ryu, indefinitely," Ken responded softly. "You survived because deep down you fought with a pure heart, a purity that made you stronger than Akuma could ever dream of. And the Dark Hadou..." he paused, "consumed him to the grave."

Ken watched Ryu breathe in hungrily, as if what he said was fresh air.

All at once, Ryu felt drained.

"I destroyed an entire village with my bare hands, Ken. That isn't normal," he admitted in a low tone. "I felt an overwhelming sensation to destroy without a care for whether I lived or died. Something about her didn't feel right. It felt almost as if she spurred the Dark Hadou to rouse in me. Before her, Akuma was the only person who had control over me that way."

"Does this 'she' have a name by any chance?" Ken interrupted jokingly, feeling uneasy that Ryu was visibly tense. "I'm starting to get her confused with Liz."

Ryu shook his head in response, deep in thought.

"I don't know anything about her except that she influences my actions," Ryu continued, his voice cutting. "I see her when I close my eyes. She makes me feel excruciating pain and relief at the same time."

Ken watched Ryu's hand tremble before slipping his fingers through the red glove.

"I remember as a child thinking how being a martial artist would be the perfect choice for me. It was the only thing I had ever known and it's the only way I can keep Gouken Sensei alive. The intense pleasure of exceeding my mental and physical limit to new levels felt so gratifying. I'd wake up before dawn thirsty to taste more," Ryu paused, suddenly smiling at this distant memory. "But that adrenaline rush is fogged over by darkness and uncertainty. _She_ reminds me that I'm not normal and am a danger to you and anyone around us. If Sensei was still alive, he would have exterminated the Dark Hadou out of me by now."

Ken appraised him, his eyes betraying worry he chose not to express. He was perplexed as to why Ryu was still stuck in the past.

"Think of the Dark Hadou as a cold," Ken offered, his voice indifferent. "You need to fight it off."

"Colds come back, Ken," Ryu frowned, having anticipated a solid answer. "If anything, the last few days have taught me that training cannot keep the Dark Hadou at bay. It's embedded within me, not my fighting style. How many more years must I train with fear that my physical strength will kill someone else? You said so yourself, my natural powers are too strong."

His patience on edge, Ken yelled, "You just don't get it, do you?"

Now Ryu leaned against the car, releasing the exhausting cramp in his trembling calf muscle.

"Look at you, man," Ken continued, his voice gentler. "You're in your gear, out in the middle of nowhere, ready to train just like when we were younger. Seriously, nothing's really changed, has it?"

Stunned, Ryu's first impulse was to rebuke the issue, but he held his tongue, sensing the harsh realization.

The road was empty and the sky had cleared from dusky gray to a clear light blue. Ken sat on the hood, twiddling his thumbs, desperate to open Ryu's eyes to other possibilities. They lived completely different lives and because of that, he knew it would be a challenge to convince his old friend to adopt another life.

**"** **The only way a true fighter can suffer is by not fighting,"** **Ryu said, barely audible and only half-believing it.**

**"** **That's bullshit and you know it,"** **Ken laughed,** putting his arms over Ryu's shoulder in a tussle. **"** Don't you see, you are moving forward," he said softly. "This is just another chapter in your life and Master Gouken would have been proud to see that you haven't given up the arts."

A smile flickered from the corner of Ryu's mouth.

"What you need is some time to kick back, pal" Ken continued encouragingly. "Come back to America with me."

*****

Chapter 6:

DAY JOB

She felt dizzied by the amount of camera crew that lazily watched her. The light shone heavy on her face and the lack of any fresh air made her feel sluggish. But Tawnya had to keep her guard up and her mind focused a little longer, as she caught soft footsteps circling her.

Distractedly, she thought of what she could say to him as his dazzling black eyes bore into her. Her stomach did frightened little flips at the thought of his beautifully sculpted body making contact with her in real life. Tawnya gulped, pushing such imaginings aside.

She threw her stance forward, eagerly watching her opponent opposite. It made her nervous to look at his face. Any minute now, she knew she had to meet his eye.

"I can't let you go through," Tawnya said with urgency, feeding him the same line over and over again. She was ignored.

He was irresistible in his silence, but her thoughts were cut off by the slap of his palm, and her shoulder stung with its impact. Ignoring the pain, she wrenched him back by the collar of his shirt, but only managed to stumble a couple of paces forward.

"I'm warning you. You go any further, and I will have no choice but to kill you," she said with a tone of menace that made the stranger halt at her final words.

Her lips curled, and she pulled at the ends of her leather gloves tight over her wrists, ready, but she was startled by the man's sudden burst of laughter.

"I'd like to see you try," he said, his voice buttery and smooth like a seductive song.

Tawnya ran at him with a jab aimed at his throat, but was hurtled to the ground feeling her face sting. He slapped her again, then he pinned her arms with the grip of his strong hands.

"Get off me, you bast--"

He drew close to her neck and sniffed hard. "Hmmm," he said, a self-satisfied smirk painted on his milky face, "at least you smell like a lady."

Tawnya growled and struggled to sit up, but the weight of his body kept her down. Her eyes stung for a second, making her unable to clearly see from one side. She held her breath, apprehensively waiting for her attacker to strike, but the assault never came. Instead, irritation replaced his smirk, as he wrapped his hands tightly around her neck. Tawnya winced, her eyes widened in horror, as she struggled to breathe. His free hand gripped her arm in an effort to hold her down. The strangulation was nothing compared to the burning pain that ripped through her wound.

"Arrgh!" she said under her breath. The pain in her voice was heavy. Her face was unreadable.

"What's wrong? You okay, sweetie?" he gently whispered in her ear. His face was apathetic. She nodded in response.

"Don't come any...closer," she stuttered. His lips were just an inch away from hers. Tawnya spat at his face. He didn't flinch.

"Is that the best you've got, Miya," he said with the same steady tone.

"Damn it, Fei, you're really hurting me."

"CUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT! Cut!" the Chinese director yelled angrily through the distorted megaphone. Film director Rob de Chow was hardly the most patient man in the world. He clutched at his tartan cap and threw it at the luminous green backdrop where the two actors idly stood.

"Whaa you doing?" Rob snapped, waving his pudgy arm in the air, infuriated. "You ruin all shoot for me. Follow script next time."

"It's not the end of the world, Rob," Fei said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at his uncle before half-smiling at Tawnya. Feeling hot, he removed his shirt. He usually didn't smile, he never laughed, but this was an exception.

"You damn well know," Rob said with a stutter, "if she no goo, you no goo too."

Tawnya dipped her head low, hiding behind Fei to nurse the glowing wound under the white leather glove. The director was particularly discontented with her last minute costume change. The self-harmed scar completely ruined his image of Miya. He had originally wanted his character in a short white kimono that revealed chest, arms and legs. Now the long gloves made the rest of the outfit look awkward. Even Fei had become concerned.

"Tawn, seriously, what's the matter? This really isn't like you," Fei said now, stroking Tawnya's pink-dusted cheek as he furrowed his eyes with unease.

He noticed her dilapidated appearance and wondered why he had chosen her out of all the other wannabes for the job. If she was unable to play an egocentric heroine convincingly, he doubted she could keep up the façade they had agreed upon.

Expressionless, Tawnya tried to conceal her discomfort. Fei was still topless, and her heart juddered at his slight touch. "Just need a break," Tawnya sighed, wiping her sweaty brow with one finger. "This guy," she said pointing at Rob, "needs to learn that we're not animals."

He raised his eyebrows. "You can convince people we are," Fei said, throwing a charming smile with a finger on her chin. He was faking it. "That'd definitely give people something to talk about, right?"

Tawnya hummed, feeling disappointed that she was duped by his good acting again. She held her breath as she watched his expression turn serious. Despite the months of practice she had with him, she still couldn't figure out when he was being honest with her.

"Don't let me down like that again," he said in a quiet voice for only Tawnya to hear, ignoring the heavy eye make-up as he icily looked at her. "A lot is at stake and I can't always watch your back, making sure that you're doing your job. If you don't have the energy now, what will you be like when cameras secretly follow you around? They are always watching, whether you're having a bad day or not. Keep up the act. Got it?"

Tawnya's face went blank, disappointed that he was talking down to her again, breaking the illusion that they were indeed lovers. She should have been used to Fei being so business-like with her, but she let herself feel convinced that they were in a relationship. He was so charming, affectionate and appealing when the cameras rolled, but their relationship was just a show. Her work and private life were intertwined, and she had to remember that, despite letting her guard down once in awhile.

"Sorry, I know what I have to do," Tawnya said, keeping her voice low. She hated relying on him for advice.

"Good girl," Fei said. His cheeks lifted into a half-hearted smile. "Now give me a kiss and let's get this show on the road."

"What, here? Right now?" Tawnya said, aware that Fei hadn't moved away from her. Their bodies were still touching. Her nerves were raw with tension and fatigue.

"We slip up just once and this entire deal will fall apart." Fei's eyebrows creased. He was worried that Tawnya was beginning to have second thoughts, but she tipped her head to the side towards his. He fumbled a weak smile, but that wasn't going to fool anyone.

"Be quick," Tawnya said, her face serious. She released a shudder as Fei's lips touched hers before he stepped back. She definitely didn't feel anything for him this time.

"Hey, this no play time," Rob yelled at them in English. "You no get break now."

"No rest for the wicked," Tawnya said, shaking her head at Rob, who ranted on in Cantonese. Fei gave her cheeks a squeeze before he walked away.

She swayed on the spot watching after him, feeling lost about what to do. She found it difficult to comprehend whether what she was doing in her life was right or wrong. Signing the contract on the dotted line was probably not the greatest decision she had made, but becoming Fei Long's partner was the fastest route to fame and fortune. Acting made her feel in control. It gave her the chance to command over someone else's actions and emotions, but her throbbing body constantly reminded her of how powerless she really was. Tawnya had no control over the character of Miya, or over her very own life.

"Okay, lover birds," Rob said, tapping Fei's back as they walked back to Tawnya. He was unable to reach Fei's shoulder due to his stunted height, and he was slapping him much harder than he needed to.

"I give you twenty minutes. That is all your break. But you two go see spectator," he said, pointing at both the actors. "Lottof fans for you waiting outside. Then you go come back to work." Tawnya jumped at the unexpected smack to the bottom. Rob waved a rolled up script over his face, which made his slim black moustache disappear for a second.

Tawnya answered with a smile, then sighed. Truly, she had sold herself to the devil.

*****

Chapter 7:

SIGNATURE

In the next few hours, I will be departing, and by the time you read this, I will be gone. I'm sorry to be leaving you with only this note, but there was no other way I could express myself. I never imagined for us to be in this situation. It's become too difficult now and my time has come. You were everything to me and I just want to thank you from my heart for coloring my life when you did. You made me happy and gave me a purpose. But no matter how fun it was, I have to say goodbye. I hope that one day you can understand and forgive me. I will never forget you. Thank you for your kindness. Look after yourself.

The edge of the letter was worn out, as if it had been read over and over again. There was no reason as to Kei would write a letter like this, and why Sakura received it now. The tone of the letter felt so cold that it angered her to think her long friendship with Kei would wither away to a mere note of kindness. Wasn't she, Sakura Kasugano, the one who revealed to Kei the true meaning of life beyond the rigid school walls?

"Pffft," she hissed under her breath. Kei Chitose obviously didn't care about any of that, and was too afraid to confront Sakura herself. Only a coward would post a letter when she lived walking distance away. Heatedly, Sakura scrunched the letter up in her fist, but then she quickly ironed it out with her fingers.

"Becoming Head Chef in a restaurant in Italy my ass," Sakura spat in mock laughter. "Her ugly Italian boyfriend probably owns a teeny tiny little café in the middle of nowhere. Let's see how far she gets when she realizes she doesn't speak the lingo at all."

Sakura sniggered at Kei's sudden ill decision. She was always too timid and obedient to protest against the idea of looking for street fighters in Tokyo during school hours. Apparently, Kei was still submissive if she was made to ditch her one and only friend because she was told to do so.

"She's not the only one going abroad," Sakura reminded herself, her face suddenly brightening with the joyful thought of America.

So what if she left school with no qualifications, spending the time instead to fight kids at rival schools? On the contrary, Sakura felt pleased with her efforts. While washing dirty dishes at her dead-end job, she had learned English from a foreign colleague, which helped her secure a paid internship at a publishing house in Los Angeles. Apparently, being a leaflet thrower, or according to her résumé, a 'Promotions Officer', had been her ticket to a gleaming international career.

No matter how she had once wished to follow the example of her idol, Ryu, Sakura knew her street fighting life would forever be behind her now.

Squeezing her way through the crowd of teenagers, she attempted to stow the letter into her red backpack. She wanted to get to the very front of the barriers where she could catch all the action. No matter where she turned, she found herself verbally tussled by screaming female fans, all of whom were at least two inches shorter than she was. Blushing, Sakura dipped her head, having noticed a young dumpy girl wearing the same glittery _Pac-man_ t-shirt as hers. She was sure the girl would take no notice, screaming and screaming at top volume for her idols to show themselves. Fleetingly, Sakura looked over her shoulder to see an older-looking girl kiss over a small heart-shaped photo of Fei Long. She gritted her teeth to stop herself from laughing at the ridiculous gesture, but secretly, she too was at the Kyoto Film Studio for the very same reason. While she had been too busy working for cash, Fei Long had become a metaphysical replacement for Ryu, and Sakura was desperate to meet her favorite martial arts actor before leaving Japan for good. Even if Fei had left the street fighting world to become an actor, she still thought he totally kicked ass.

"Come out, Fei Long," she sang, overpowering the voices of the girls beside her. Then it dawned on her. "Shoot, I didn't bring anything for him to sign."

She hurriedly fiddled in her bag, only to find bubblegum, strawberry lip balm, keys, a paper fan, a lifeless cell phone, a wallet and a bullet train pass. She grabbed Kei's letter, saddened again by her friend's cold words, and then shrugged. A glossy photo print of Fei would have been better, but this would have to do. While she waited, bouncing on her toes and carried by excitement, the crowd behind her swelled in size, moving like an angry monster fighting for attention. The crowd behind suddenly pushed forward, and the screams echoed to an even more heightened pitch.

"Fei, oh my God, it's really Fei!" the girl to her left shouted so loudly that Sakura heard the muscles of her throat strain.

Sakura's already pale face whitened in shock as she watched Fei Long approach the manic mob. Her heart pulsed rapidly and her palms suddenly became sticky. He looked even better in real life than in the movies. He rarely took the sunglasses off outside of work, and without them, his face appeared even more chiseled and distinctive.

"I think I'm going to faint. Catch me, Fei," fans cried for their god-like idol.

Fei flashed a dazzling smile at girls who swooned. He was used to hearing the same crap yelled at him. He simply glided past them, scribbling a rough 'F.L' on the pages.

"FEI, FEI! OVER HERE!" girls screamed hysterically, taken over by excitement as they jumped up and down without retreat. Sakura held her aching ears for a second, then felt her knees go funny.

Oh my God, she thought, stunned, here he comes, here he comes.

In a daze, Sakura held out Kei's letter for him to sign, with a wide but trembling grin. This was her chance to say something clever to him, perhaps something that could distinguish her from all the other fans. She took a deep breath as her brain hurried to search for the right words. She wanted Fei to remember her forever! But no matter how hard she tried to think, her mouth was silent, disobeying her thoughts. She opened her mouth, and only gasping came out.

Damn it, Sakura cursed in her mind, watching Fei scribble his name and walk away.

"Damn it," she blurted aloud in frustration as the gap between them widened.

She was still just another Japanese face in the crowd. Her head hung in disappointment. Even without the pressure, she was unable to think of anything. But then she smiled. Kei's letter was no longer 'Kei's letter'. Now it was a piece of history, something cool to show her new colleagues in Los Angeles.

"Oh well," she shrugged, straining her neck as she tried to catch a sight of Fei Long's latest squeeze. "Yeah right, some B-movie actress," Sakura giggled to herself, keenly waiting for her to approach.

Tawnya lost count of how many signatures she scrawled, having realized just how big the crowd actually was. It made her smile to feel wanted by a group of strangers, calling her name for a meaningless squiggle. The anxiety, aches and pains she felt earlier had diminished, and were replaced by a new source of energy and delight that had her overwhelmed.

Tawnya flirted with the cameras and posed with fans when begged. She couldn't quite understand why people often gawped at her as if she were a ghost, but at least it was better than catching a sight of Rob's glowering face during work.

Feeling warmth, Tawnya suddenly jumped back startled, pulling back from a hysteric male fan who was touching her.

"Whoa, steady now," she tried to warn him, but it was too late. The hysterical fan took grip of her leather glove and ripped it away with him into the swarming crowd.

"Finally," Sakura said, relieved, as Tawnya advanced into the next segment of the mob. She wanted to call out to the actress, unsure of her name but copied the crowd that called at her in cheery unison.

"Tawnya, TAWNYA BLAZE," Sakura howled, hoping that her empty words would be greeted by a memorable smile.

Sakura felt dazed, simply grinning like an idiot, as the actress stood majestically over her. Tawnya's stunning Eurasian looks almost intimidated her. The actress' lashes were thick and lengthy without mascara, her lips were sultry with a dash of bronze, and her tight long ponytail made her cheekbones look high. Sakura thought Tawnya could have been a lipstick model. She smiled at her in awe, ruffling the short boy-cut hair she had worn since high school.

"Do you have a pen?" the celebrity asked, with a subtle American accent.

Sakura squirmed, once again unable to find her voice. In a scrambled mess, she reached into her bag, dropping her train pass in the process.

"Thanks," Tawnya mumbled, scribbling her name hurriedly.

Seeing a familiar name scratched onto the actress' arm, Sakura's eyes widened in shock. This was just like an omen. From where she was standing, it didn't look like make-up.

"Holy shit, Ryu-san? It couldn't be," Sakura squealed in Japanese, then quickly slapped her mouth shut.

Tawnya smiled at Sakura's ghost-like face, placing the pen in her unresponsive hands. She turned to walk away, but her draping sleeve was caught. She tugged, then looked over her shoulder. Sakura was gripping onto it tight with both hands, her body hanging over the barrier, unwilling to let go.

Her smile trembled as she said, "Umm, actually, is that Ryu thing another tattoo, 'cause my best friend is called Ryu too."

Tawnya frowned, then glanced at Fei who had his back turned to her. She drew in jagged breaths, trying hard to retain her cool while fans flashed their cameras at her. She tugged again but the crazy fan had an iron grip. A mischievous smile rearranged her features. She peered into Sakura's curious round face.

"Release me, now!" Tawnya warned, her teeth clenched into a threatening smile.

With a harsh pull, Tawnya got the white material away from Sakura's hands, and in a matter of seconds, she was gone.

"No...friggin'...way," Sakura said, astounded, ignoring the pushes and shoves of the other fans who were still calling after the stars.

She knew of only one Ryu in her life – her teenage crush, her true idol. If this wasn't a 'sign' to start checking up on how her old friend was doing, she didn't know what was.

*****

Chapter 8:

THE DATE

Rena looked down at her engagement ring. Bringing it close to her face, she examined the sparkle that illuminated from the yellow light. The small diamond rock glistened as she tilted her finger ever so slightly. She noticed the silver band embedded with scratches. Its natural sheen had been dimmed by daily wear. The ring had been on her finger for so long that it looked frazzled, just like her state of mind.

Rena touched the diamond with a stroke of saliva and polished it with a small handkerchief. Perfect. Except, her life was far from perfect. She was tired of waiting for Guy to be "ready"---ready to finally settle down with her. She knew that his need to hold onto his bachelorhood was just an excuse for him to look for someone better. It had to be the only reason. The strain of marriage would wear any man down.

Guy was a man of great passion. He had the enviable but insatiable desire to perfect himself through the martial arts. Her goals could hardly compare. Her only wish was to marry and rear a family. A simple dream, her only ambition. It had been her late mother's wish to have at least one daughter embrace motherhood. Maki, Rena's sister, hardly seemed the type to slow life down with children. She was headstrong and ruthless. Rena, on the other hand, was compliant and docile and determined to ensure that Guy didn't have to change his fighting lifestyle just for her. Being his wife didn't mean changing his life. She had already moved into his apartment in Los Angeles, but she kept out of his way.

Rena sighed, marking the calendar with yet another black cross. Guy hadn't been the same since leaving his rogue life in Metro City.

"Not today then," she breathed out sullenly, placing the thick marker back on the table with care. "Exactly seven years."

Marking the calendar had almost become an anniversary in its own right. This was the day to mourn her current barren status, wondering further to when Guy would crack in resignation and meet her down the aisle.

She felt humiliated planning a wedding that hardly seemed likely to happen. She remembered buying her wedding dress at a boutique in Hawaii two years ago, anticipating that he would set the date during their vacation. But it wasn't a retreat at all. Guy had been invited to fight at a tournament there, and was given a spare flight ticket for a guest. While he fought, she wept, lost amongst spectators who found it strange that a small Japanese girl could sob so outrageously. It was the biggest disappointment of her life, and it was ridiculous to think that today was going to be any different.

Rena grasped a smaller pen with the hand that had held the date marker, and she began to write.

I sincerely hope that a change will come about before you pass away. I know you spoke to him in trying to engage his mind to attend to more pressing needs. I cannot say whether your words meant anything at all. I mean no disrespect. I am more than convinced that he holds your words in the highest esteem. I simply say that I have not experienced any alteration in him.

Rena stopped writing, unsure whether to continue on this path. Her words seemed so strict and formal. Then, with much regret, she decided to follow through.

I always wonder whether he has spoken of someone else in his life besides me. I know the Bushin way teaches its students to honor their commitments, but these lengthy years have taught me that I can no longer be patient. I hope you understand that I cannot put my life on hold for a selfish man. Father, I ask for your help. I request that another arrangement be made, for the sake of your daughter's happiness.

Glancing over the letter, Rena pouted her lips in frustration, then folded the paper into precise thirds and aimed it directly at the trashcan. She missed again.

How could she reveal her true feelings to her father? It was bad enough keeping her frustration from Guy, but to confess that she was weakened by the sheer toll of time? Her father would be more than disappointed, but she couldn't keep quiet anymore, not unless Guy married her. She knew right this minute that he was training, again, for the third time this afternoon. He seemed unaware that she had taken the day off to spend time with him. Instead, he was transfixed by this obsession to learn more about the hidden powers of the martial arts, and he kept himself confined to the backyard with his training dummy alone.

He was just too unbearably selfish, Rena decided in the end. She couldn't possibly wait any longer for him to make up his mind and set the date. It was about time she took her life back into her own hands.

"30th February," she murmured, half-laughing. Not quite a leap year, but it was a date nonetheless. If the marriage was meant to be, then a real date would appear soon enough. At this rate, she would be waiting forever. "I guess I'll just clean," she said aloud, picking up a yellow feather duster.

Upon a quick inspection, Rena found the room was already immaculate. The lamp was at a perfect right angle on the bedside table, the sunset-orange bedding was smooth, and the dark blue curtains had been beaten free of dust. Rena laughed quietly, feeling out of place in Guy's American lifestyle. Los Angeles was a dangerous city compared to the quietitude of Minou. Rena felt like going home, back to Japan, but this little place Guy owned had to be her home too.

"What's so funny, babes?"

Rena jumped, startled. She hadn't heard Guy walk into the bedroom. He was so stealthy, it made her feel uncomfortable sometimes. Her shoulders stiffened as a strong pair of arms grabbed her from behind. He was wet with sweat and it made her cringe.

"Had a good work out?" Rena asked trying hard not to sound bored. She asked the same mundane question, every single day.

"It could have been better," Guy said, placing a wet kiss behind her ear, sending butterflies through her stomach.

"Wow, you've been busy," he said, referring to the scattered folded paper on the carpet. It looked like origami.

"Oh, it's nothing," Rena said, embarrassed, hurriedly scuttling to tidy her mess. She didn't want Guy to ever think she was disorderly and slothful. "Just practicing my handwriting in English," she lied, tipping the rubbish into the trash can before plastering on her doting housewife smile. Her face betrayed neither worry nor surprise. "I don't want to embarrass you in front of your friends with my poor English," Rena mumbled, mortified that she was still speaking in Japanese instead of practicing with a man who had mastered the language at a young age.

Guy laughed lackadaisically as he changed out of his sweaty clothes in front of her. She averted her eyes from her naked fiancé only for a second.

Now he faced away from her. "You're too sweet to embarrass anyone, Rena," he replied in rough Japanese. "Do what makes you happy."

Rena couldn't help but look at her fiancé amorously. He thrusted his strong lean arms through a clean t-shirt that stuck flat against his sculpted abs. His hair flopped carelessly over his serious slanted eye. Guy was a man with an incredible physique, and she loved his solemn expression. No matter how upset she was with him, she found herself easily attracted to him. Pig-headed, selfish, sometimes arrogant; her perception of those characteristics melted away when she quietly watched him do the most trivial things.

"Can I ask you something? And please be honest," Rena said, her voice small and vulnerable. If she wasn't brave enough to set a date for them, she most certainly did not have the courage to reveal her disinterest in his next fight, and her hatred of him brawling like an animal.

She stroked her cheek with a strand of her dark hair and waited for him to at least grunt a response. Rena frowned as Guy jumped on the neatly tidied bed. He smiled softly, waiting for her to speak. Feeling her throat catch, she played with her engagement ring, tugging it up and down on her finger.

"You do want to marry me, right?" Rena asked, holding herself stiffly. She wished he would meet her gaze. His dark eyes rested on his lap as he fidgeted with the cords of his khakis. Her fingers trembled, making her accidentally dislodge and drop the ring.

"Yeah," Guy finally whispered, placing the ring back on her finger. He smoothed her head and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Rena shuddered in relief seeing Guy's small eyes smile, even though his mouth didn't. The look in his eyes could never lie.

"I love you," she smiled, holding onto his tight arms as she squeezed herself against his firm chest and sniffed in the scent of his freshly ironed t-shirt.

"I know," Guy simply said.

*****

Chapter 9:

FATHER FIGURE

"Eliza, honey, it's me."

"Oh, Ken? I didn't think you'd call."

"Course I would, darling. Ryu and I had some catching up to do first. Not sure where we are at the moment, we've just been driving outside the Kansai region."

"Road trip?"

"Something like that. Not much else to do, considering. I'm glad I've come, heh, no thanks to you."

"You would have left without telling me anyway," Eliza sighed noisily.

"I wasn't even thinking about going until you practically threw my bags out the door."

"This isn't my fault, you know."

"Liz, I haven't called to argue, okay? I just missed hearing your voice."

"Took you long enough. I see where your priorities lie."

"Are you for real?" Ken groaned, kicking the dust from the ground. "I don't have a tracking device on the guy. Course it took time to look for him. Ryu only gave me the name of the monastery he was staying at, so I ended up driving for a week just looking for him. Phone reception is pretty bad outside the city--"

"Okay, okay, you've proven your point," Eliza cut in, irritated. "So, you guys have just been talking? No sparring?" his wife asked with little trust in her voice.

"I promised, didn't I?" Ken shot back, his tone a little sharp. "Anyway, he told me he doesn't fight anymore. He still trains though, and I think it's finally taking its toll on him. You'd think he'd be stronger since the last time. It's actually a little frightening."

"Well then, aren't you glad you kicked the fighting habit before it consumed you?"

Ken stayed silent for a moment before uttering, "I guess. He has me to take care of him now. The Ken Master's magic will perk him up in no time. If only he could open his eyes to other possibilities in his life. I need to show him another path to help him back on his feet..."

"Hmm, shame you only have a solution for Ryu."

"What does that mean?" Ken darted back, feeling a little hurt.

"Your theories, Ken. Want to leave some of that magic for when you're ready to come home?"

"Okay, I don't even know what that means, so I'm going to ignore it." There was a brief silence on the phone as he tried to gather his thoughts.

"Wanna know how I'm doing, Ken? Or don't you care?" Eliza said somewhat angrily. "If you're too busy figuring out Ryu's life to even consider my feelings, be my guest and stay there."

Ken spluttered, but was unable to defend himself.

"Oh, I'm doing great," she broke out sarcastically. "It's a lot of fun not knowing where your husband is after a fight. And before you start talking, I don't mean the fight you love training for so much, but the fights you have with me--"

"I don't fight with--"

"And you never let me finish because what you have to say is more important. Ken, why do you always insist on changing Ryu's life for him? Why can't you do something about yourself instead? Maybe that way, everyone around you would be happier."

The remark stabbed Ken hard in the heart. He gripped onto his cell phone tighter.

"Liz, what are you talking about? I changed for you. Why can't you see that?" he said, trying hard not to shout. He took a deep breath, then continued. "When was the last time I went to Japan, huh? When was the last time I fought or seriously trained? I can't be your little stay-at-home boy just so you can keep your eye on me."

There was a soft 'oomph' on the other line. Ken guessed his wife was punching a pillow.

"Being with Ryu," she tuned in, "...will it make you feel better? Seeing him all messed up, do you feel...I dunno...relieved that you were right to worry about him, about some guy who doesn't give a shit about how _you_ are once in a while?"

Ken sighed deeply. "It's not like that, Liz, and you know it." His voice flattened. "Stop making Ryu your argument."

"Do you really think I'm blind, or that stupid, not to notice what you're really up to?" her voice quivered in anger. "You being in Japan...it isn't a big chivalrous act to 'fix' Ryu. I heard you on the phone, hotshot, discussing your big tour to fight again."

"My tour?"

"I'm not stupid, Ken Masters."

Ken paused, trying to think quick about having mentioned a road trip tournament. He had only spoken to Ryu at the brink of midnight when Eliza was already in bed. Even if she did eavesdrop, she had clearly misunderstood. She was an expert in making him feel accountable, no matter what.

"Liz, you don't seem to remember why I let myself stray from training and my love for fighting. Jeez, you'd think putting my family first would actually mean something to you."

It didn't seem fair that he had to stop being whom Eliza initially fell in love with, just because it didn't suit her anymore. He hadn't felt like a martial artist for years being stuck behind an office desk and dealing with the corporate world. He tried again, calming his emotions.

"Honey, no matter what happens between us, and how much you may hate me at times," he spoke softly, "I still love you. And I won't hang up the phone till you believe I'm worth holding on to."

She breathed harshly over Mel, who was asking what there was to eat for supper. His voice was loud, speaking over punk music that blasted from his iPod. There was an uncomfortable rustle, forcing Ken to move the phone slightly away from his ears.

"Hey dad, what's up?"

"Hey kiddo, you cool? I'm with Uncle Ryu now. Remember him?"

"Ummm, sorta," Mel said, clearly unsure.

"What have you been up to? Training I hope?"

"Nah, not really," Mel said moodily. "I ordered new brake pads for the bike. Hopefully, they'll arrive tomorrow or the day after. Gonna take it out for a spin. And Aunt Julia and Uncle Guile are dropping by later, but that's about it really."

Ken smiled at the thought of his sister-in-law visiting. By the sounds of it, Eliza needed the company.

"Hope you're not giving your instructor a hard time being such a smart ass. I heard what you did to him the other day. I don't want you being too cocky and breaking an arm like your old man."

"I didn't do anything wrong," Mel protested. "It wasn't even me. Sean sneaked up on the instructor and ran off before he could catch him." Ken shook his head. Sean had too much control over Mel, and Eliza was too soft to demand caution for their behavior.

"Just be careful, you hear? I don't want you giving your mom a hard time," Ken smiled, missing his son incredibly.

"Oh, Mom wants ya. See ya."

The speaker sounded muffled as the phone was passed back. Ken was pleased his new cell phone was somewhat decent at picking up the smallest signal compared to the phone he threw out this morning.

"Hon, come home soon okay, and if you must, bring Ryu too. Sounds like he needs a vacation. You can tell him I'll make a good ol' turkey roast just the way he likes it."

Hearing his wife's change of tone, Ken suddenly felt relieved. The ache in his heart melted away.

"Sure thing, babes," he said with ease. "Say hi to Julia and G.I. Guile for me." He laughed at his own joke with the thought of his military brother-in-law.

"I will. It'll only be a flying visit, but Amy will be staying over for a few days to keep Mel company."

"Nice of them to burden you with more babysitting."

"Pleasure to have the company."

"And I'll drag Ryu's sorry ass to America."

"Sure. Give my love to Ryu."

"What about me?" Ken asked, shrugging.

"Love for you waits at home." She hung up.

Ken's phone was burning hot from the temperature that had transferred from his sweating body. His iced coffee had melted with the cream stuck messily around the rim, and the chocolate bits he loved so much had drowned down into the base. He grabbed the plastic cup and slowly sipped.

Meanwhile, Ryu was standing away from the café, gazing over the bay of the beach below that shone in the light of the late afternoon. Having endured the summer monsoon he despised, he felt the weather creeping into a higher humidity. There was no breeze, but the tail of his red headband blew onto his shoulder with his slightest movement. The tide was low, swishing gently against the sandy beach where a young child chased his parents with a large plastic ball.

Ryu watched the little boy with much intensity. His feet brushed against the sand that caught between his toes, and his legs stopped and started at diverse paces as he called out to his parents to chase him with the ball in his hands. Ryu felt harmonious watching the family enjoy the break of the sun. Whenever it was possible during his travels, he made sure that he visited the beach once in awhile, to feel the tiny yellow grains massaging his feet and sticking to his soles when they were damp.

The sound of the ocean was the most beautiful sound on earth, even when the sea was in its most violent rage. Such a sound must be soothing, being surrounded by water for nine months in the mother's watery womb. The security and comfort of the interior lining, the echo of a female voice, and the regular thud thud of her heart must be comforting. That thought alone amazed Ryu. He magnified his most calm thoughts to recollect the feeling that he and every human had experienced, but never committed to conscious memory.

Quickly gulping his last sip, Ken walked over to Ryu with his hands in his pockets.

"Missing you, are they?" Ryu asked nonchalantly, his hands loose on the railing. He continued to watch the blue ocean, contemplating on whether to take a long swim.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Ken managed a smile, feasting his eyes upon the magnificent view. "They seem to be doing fine without the master of the house around." He winked. "I reckon my kid's preparing for a rally BMX championship, or something. I've been teaching him to ride a bike since he was a baby. Heh, look at him now. All grown up."

Ken had a big fatherly smile. He continued.

"Eliza doesn't seem to understand why I have to travel. For some reason, it's become a big strain on her. Hormones, honestly." He laughed.

Ken thought back to the time when he bought the new house for his family. It was such a proud moment for him to do something like that. The property was a real bargain, a new double storey with a nice pool in the backyard, and a huge luxury spa and hot tub next to it. Eliza loved to swim. Her whole family was athletes, her late father having played for eighteen years as a quarterback for the Redskins. Her mother started out as a ballet dancer, and later turned to gymnastics at the age of nineteen, and soon picked up a bronze medal during the 1968 Olympic Games. Eliza's two older brothers went onto the NHL, and she became a sportswriter.

It was only appropriate to have a pool.

"Is it difficult to raise a family, Ken?" Ryu turned to his friend and asked. The family he watched were now eating a picnic. Ryu's gaze had gone to a seagull flying over the ocean to pick its target of fish.

"Nah, piece of cake," Ken joked with a rueful smile. "Strange question coming from you, buddy."

He watched Ryu's expressionless face for clues as to how he felt but just as automatically, he leaned against the railing, gazing at the sea.

"Every moment is a special learning curve, same as martial arts. Think of the way you dedicate your time to the arts. That's what I do with my family now." His jaw knotted to prevent himself from revealing his true feelings. Rapidly, he added, "Y'know, Ryu, you can continue to choose to do what you do forever, but it's never too late to change the path you're on now."

"Thanks for the advice, Ken, but I didn't ask for it."

Ken turned and smiled as normally as he could, wishing he hadn't made that last statement, especially after the rocky conversation he had just had with his wife. Like Ryu, Ken loved the thrill of street fighting, but he had given serious thought to whether he really wanted to carry on fighting all his life. Getting married had been a scary yet joyous step at first, but these days, being home was much like the ultimate fight that Ken had been trying for.

Softly, he continued. "You're just as consumed with the arts in your adult life as you were when we were younger. I just don't want you missing out on anything."

Ryu never thought of what he was missing. Despite the wavering contemplation about his mother and father, perhaps even a brother or a sister, he never expressed the desire of having his own family. He fended for himself with no idea of what it would be like to take care of someone else, too.

"You remember what my father did, Ryu? Do you remember the time when we first met? My father sent me to Master Gouken as his last resort to discipline me. To the other side of the world, man. I don't blame him, y'know, for sending an aggressive brat like me away. Heh, anything's better than boarding school."

Ken heaved an angry sigh, thinking of how little time he spent with his own child. "Now I'm the CEO of the biggest oil company," he shrugged. "Sure, learning martial arts proved to my dad how I could change, but I wasn't going to continue proving myself to him. It was a stupid childhood insecurity thing, but I'm obviously over that now."

Thinking of Ryu's predicament, Ken's mouth tightened. Akuma had cared for no one but himself, and had done whatever it took to be stronger. It made Ken uncomfortable to think that Ryu was walking the exact same path without realizing what other choices were available.

"There's not a day that goes by when I don't think how beautiful my wife is. She completes me and Mel completes us. That's what life's all about," Ken laughed, shaking himself out of his serious tone. "You just gotta try things out and see where it takes you."

Ryu's face tensed, suppressing his vulnerable emotions. He had never given himself the space or time to enjoy the life Ken had, and he hadn't even considered the role Ken took as a father.

Ryu remembered the time when Ken and Mel were at the park playing catch. The baseball mitts were too big for Mel's tiny hands, and Ken's hair was too long. Watching them laugh and play immediately brought Ryu a smile. Ken was a natural father. His son looked up to him with adoring blue eyes, calling to him while he ran further away, then yelled with so much excitement when he caught the ball. There was one word to describe the way Ken looked then: proud. A feeling Ryu had never bestowed upon another.

It was his turn to be proud of someone else, but he wasn't sure whether his time would ever come.

Ryu looked like he was about to say something urgent, but then he stopped. A loud disturbing yell of a child was heard coming from behind the café. The scream had seemed to struggle to escape from the child, as if his throat was filled with torture. Ryu chased after the gurgling scream, ignoring Ken calling after him. His heart thudded harshly and his chest choked with tears as the juvenile voice grew louder.

A gasp of shock caught in Ryu's throat, and for a second he was immobilized. Two middle-aged men were belting a young Japanese boy. His shorts were dangling around his skinny ankles. His thin brown legs and buttocks were covered with red and purple slashes. The boy was convulsing with fresh tears rolling down from his once slanted eyes.

Livid, Ryu slammed his fist against the dark brick wall, frightening the men out of their violence.

"YOU SONS OF...!"

The men held onto their belts tightly. One was more confident-looking than the other. The area stank of spoilt garbage. Black flies buzzed around the flesh of the child, eager to suck on dead skin when it rotted. A part of his thigh looked infected. The skin had a red tint.

The older, more aggressive-looking man launched his belt back at the child, ignoring Ryu's brief interruption, then whipped the boy hard on the face. The boy flew into the corner. The second man cowered back, dropping the belt on the ground, as he saw the stranger jump into action. Ryu kicked the belt from the attacker, then caught both men by the collars of their grimy shirts. Seated, the boy held himself stiff with fear, regarding the newcomer from behind his knees.

"Pig," the older man sneered in Japanese, grinning at Ryu without fear. Ryu's grip tightened as his jaw clenched in anger.

He slammed the men against the wall, feeling warm blood drip onto his arm from their noses. Both men shared similar features. Same height, fairly skinny and tanned. He could tell that they were impoverished.

"Why are you hitting him? HE'S A CHILD!" Ryu yelled at them in Japanese, shaking them ferociously.

"Get lost," the more abrasive man scoffed, lewdly spitting while he talked. "This is none of your damned business."

"Hitting a child is every bit my business," Ryu retorted, knocking their skulls together.

Perhaps these men knew nothing better than to hurt someone vulnerable, but to Ryu that was no excuse. A child is the perfect depiction of innocence and it hurt him to think that this boy was mercilessly exposed to the cruel world. He tensed his arm, revealing bulging muscles around his toned skin to intimidate the men, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on the bolder one.

"You think that's gonna scare me, you asshole?" the man taunted, squeezing his fists in front of him. The little boy continued to cry into his hands. "Shurrup, you little weasel," he slurred, kicking the boy into silence like a helpless animal waiting for slaughter.

"THAT'S IT!" Ryu screamed, throwing himself at the man but Ken suddenly had hold of his collar and pulled him away.

"RYU, DON'T!" Ken's voice was full of warning.

Ryu nodded, frightened by his surge of emotions. He never fought in anger but he was ready to make this his first and only exception. The two Japanese men looked at each other, then scrambled past Ken, bumping him hard along the way. Perhaps it was better for him to deal with them than Ryu, Ken decided.

"Oh no you didn't, messing up my designer gear," Ken growled, and with that, he ran after them.

Exasperated, Ryu felt himself collapse against the wall. He was filled with an emotion so heavy he could have cried. Suddenly he was aware of the mellow music and the aroma of coffee coming from the café. Moaning, the boy shuffled noisily against the rubbish bags, exhausted by his pain. Snapping his head up, Ryu considered him, silent. The slashes on his body were deep. Lines of scabs marked his skinny arms, making it apparent that the child endured daily physical abuse.

Ryu straightened up, his face suddenly expressing a full sense of calm. Being as gentle as possible, he pulled up the boy's shorts up to cover his genitals and rolled up the bottoms to air the infections. He wanted to cradle the child in his arms but kept his distance for the moment.

"Who were those men? Why were they hitting you?" he asked softly, but recoiled, as the boy cried harder.

"I'm Ryu. What's your name?"

The boy looked at him, his shiny eyes examining Ryu's white gi before answering, "Kenji." Ryu released a small smile, retrieving a bottle from his duffle bag. He poured drops of water into Kenji's desperate mouth.

Ken reappeared, blocking the light as he entered the cramped garbage yard where Ryu and the boy had planted themselves. He huffed a little, his hair slightly disheveled and his face peppered with sweat, but stood wordlessly at the entryway. He immediately saw the love and attention Ryu gave to the boy, and decided to leave him to it. _This is what Ryu needs,_ Ken reminded himself, smiling slightly, as he watched his friend comfort the boy with his gentle demeanor. Ryu was compassionate, caring, and nothing like Akuma.

"Kenji, it's going to be okay. I'll make sure they won't hurt you again," Ryu swore, unclenching his fist against his leg. He couldn't believe the rush of emotion pulsing through him. "Who were they?"

Kenji breathed uneasily, peering at Ryu, first at his sorrow-filled face, then at his karate gi. "You're a fighter...aren't you?" he spoke croakily, trying hard not to wince at the pain. "I like fighters like you. I want to grow up strong like you so no one can hurt me again."

Ryu's heart juddered. He wished the boy were a fighter to defend himself in such an inhumane existence.

As an orphan, Ryu had never had parents to look after him. Despite Gouken's generosity, he had continued to wonder even to this day how his life would have been if he could have been with the family he was born into. Ryu had been told that his parents suffered from harsh poverty, and knew their son would not survive under their care, especially after the death of their first child years before. It hurt Ryu to see poverty and pain. Pushing past his own feelings and experience, he put a smile on his tense face.

"They thought I stole money. My uncle always hits me," Kenji stuttered, his bottom lip quivering. "My dad always listens to him. I never stole in my life, I swear. My dad dropped his wallet. I was just going to return it." Kenji cried again, this time resting his head on Ryu's large arm.

"Ryu, we have to take him to the hospital. He won't survive like this," Ken suggested, hailing them out of the darkened corner.

"Yeah. You're right."

Ryu gathered Kenji in his arms and stood up from the dirty ground. Ken poured more water in the boy's mouth. The humidity was causing the boy to slip toward unconsciousness.

"I hate when people make a lame excuse to start up violence. He was accused of theft, Ken," Ryu said, his face contorted with disgust.

"For real, it's sickening. Don't worry about a thing, Ryu. We'll get him the best treatment and make sure he gets a better childhood."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Ryu said appreciatively. He knew to count on Ken for financial support. "But I swear, if I ever meet them again, I'll..."

Ken rested his hand on Ryu's shoulder in an effort to ease his fury. "I'll make sure no one gets away with this," he promised. Then he tapped Kenji's cheek gently, forcing him to look up at his rosy face. "Hey, little buddy," Ken said energetically in Japanese. "Try to stay awake, you hear."

Kenji wearily opened his eyes halfway.

"Don't worry, kid. You're safe now, I promise you," Ryu reassured him.

Ken watched the ground as his feet advanced forward. "You know what, Ryu?"

"What?"

"You'll make a great father one day. But if you ever feel the need to practice, I'll let you babysit Mel and Sean anytime."

Ryu stopped walking, staring straight into Ken's soft brown eyes, then sighed, resuming his journey. He didn't want to think about a family, not even being a mentor. Right now, his only interest was to take care of Kenji until he was able to smile again.

*****

Chapter 10:

PREMIERE

The premiere opening of _The Kiss from Midas_ was a wondrous success. After all the media hype it received, long before its release, thousands upon thousands of people had come to watch the film. Bright camera flashes bounced off the tinted window as the dark limousine, filled with VIPs, drove away from the adorning crowd. On the outside, the cinema complex was a brief and vivid reminder of 1950's America. The converted L.A. Rialto had always been popular, but the buzzing hive of this film's debut had created an unusually deafening din.

It was quite an experience for the fans, and a relief for the movie crew. Rob de Chow and a special good-looking someone trailed away in the next car. His colleagues were convinced that his new 'girlfriend' was no one but a hired escort. She was far too attractive for a fat, balding man like him, yet in the August smog of Los Angeles, any desperate woman would climb into Rob's car in exchange for a promise to become an extra in his next film.

Hand in hand, Fei and Tawnya waved to their fans for a final time before reaching the getaway vehicle in a leisurely pace. Tawnya stopped short at the backdoor of the sparkling limousine. It was too much of an effort to suppress her smile. She felt both elation and apprehension having made it to the screening without slipping up. Tomorrow, the whole world would know her name; the thought filled her with a grand pleasure. She scanned the crowd, a blur of faces sharing the same ecstatic smile as her own, flashing their digital cameras until their fingers ached with the repetitive motion.

Fei's perfected smile complimented hers. The bulbous flashing lights mirrored against the brown tinted aviator shades that clashed awkwardly with his white suit and red shirt ensemble.

"What an amazing turnout, Tawn. I've never seen so many people at an opening of a movie, never before in my life," Fei said loudly, acting as if this was his first film. "You know who these people are here to see, right?" He shrugged nonchalantly, his hand gesturing casually toward her. "I'm taking this gorgeous brunette home with me," he yelled into the crowd, and then he lifted Tawnya in a mighty hug.

Tawnya blushed, drawing her lips close to his in an excited show of emotion, then she felt herself steadied back onto the ground in her five-inch heels that made her half a head taller than her co-star. Fei's hands clasped over hers, his thumb circling the inside of her palm. Their eyes met briefly. Behind the shades, his small dark eyes were warm and complacent making her heart pulse, but she knew not to give in to her true feelings. She had to be strong and resist his boyish grin.

"I think you're amazing," Tawnya said, placing her hand on his chest to mark a gentle kiss on his cheek. Then she wiped off the red lipstick residue.

Fei smoothed her fringe of hair away to glance at her perfectly symmetric face. The emerald green Vivienne Westwood dress hugged at the waist and draped loosely over her chest complimenting her long, slim body.

"Think that's enough. Get in," he whispered into her ear, as he tugged her away from the demanding paparazzi.

Tawnya did as she was told. She settled herself into the shapely leather seat. She gaped in astonishment as Fei clapped his hand behind her neck, and pressed his lips hard against hers. The reporters responded in a frenzy that revved up the crowd even more. Now her heart was aching with a rush of emotion that she futilely tried to block. The taste of his kiss lingered in her mouth.

"Shut the door, quick," he demanded, before escaping to the other side.

Tawnya's hand shook, her eyes wide, taking a few seconds to pull herself out of her thoughts.

"TAWNYA!" Fei said, alarmed that she hadn't obeyed him.

With that, he climbed into the limousine and slammed the door shut. Deciding quickly, he instructed his driver to head to his condo, not bothering to consult Tawnya first. He needed some privacy to sweeten her up, and what better place than the trimmings of his luxurious bachelor pad.

Pursing her lips, Tawnya took in the rolling blur of palm trees and glass complexes receding in a hazy distance. Her hands twitched on her lap, and she kicked away the long dress that was caught under her feet. She closed her eyes in a desperate attempt to calm her nerves. Fei was eerily quiet compared to the fake chitchatting he had created while the cameras had stared. The billboard with the two stars disappeared as the car turned into a side street far from the large cinema.

She heard a cork pop, followed by a hiss of air escaping. Fei poured champagne into two glasses, and put one in Tawnya's hand.

"Thanks," she mumbled, watching Fei from the corner of her eye. He sipped only a little. He hated alcohol but needed something to take the edge off. So did she, and she couldn't care less whether she enjoyed the taste.

"I thought this day would never come," Fei said, his voice serious. He looked out of the tinted window, unable to face her just yet. He still had her lipstick smeared on his lips from the kiss he had forced for the crowd. He ignored its chemical taste.

"It's only going to get harder, Tawn. Somehow, we have to keep this up."

He sighed, resting the glass feebly against his cheek. The cold liquid helped to cool him briefly. Then he flinched, feeling Tawnya's hand rest on his thigh. She didn't like the way he looked at her. The warmth in his eyes had been replaced by ice.

"No need to get all sentimental," he said in a flat voice. "You can relax now."

"I am relaxed," Tawnya said, cocking her head to one side. Her fringe flopped over her eye. "You're the one that needs to loosen up. Your shoulders feel really stiff."

Fei licked his lips, trying to wash off the lipstick with his tongue. She could feel Fei's fury even before he spoke.

"Don't get too attached, Tawnya."

"But sometimes, it just feels like...like what we have is so much more," she tried to argue. "I feel as if you--"

"Must I remind you this is business only?" Fei snapped, averting his eyes from hers.

Tawnya retreated, pulling her hand back into her lap like a scared animal. Head bent forward, Fei touched his eyes with a deep sigh, instantly regretting his previous comment. This day was harder than he had originally anticipated, and what he was planning next made him feel sick to his stomach.

"I know this must be difficult," he said with sympathy, "but I hired you because you're a professional and I need you to keep that professionalism up at all times." He then wondered whether if this was quite as true as he had just made it sound.

Tawnya fumbled a smile and nodded. She had learned all about Fei's story; how he loathed his career, and was unable to enjoy life neither as a serious martial artist nor as a successful actor. As a street fighter, touring country to country no longer exhilarated him. He had little patience to dedicate time to training, and fighting hapless strangers gave him little stimulation. Tawnya knew it was none of her business to ask why he wanted to fake a romantic interest instead of pursuing one for real, but it didn't stop her from speculating.

"Got anymore bubbles?" she said in an effort to break the silence.

His head snapped up. His face suddenly brightened. "Plenty," he said in a voice that barely belonged to him.

His mood startled her. Then she figured it was better to get drunk than deal with Fei's confusing moods. Soon, the alcohol would produce a feeling of relaxation and giddiness that she would more than welcome. He was the reason she started to drink, anyway.

Flustered, Fei removed the handset from its holder and rapidly punched a series of numbers.

"Who're you calling?" Tawnya giggled, feeling herself tipsy already. She reached out for him with her fingertips, touching the end of his matted hair.

"Just business," Fei snapped, brushing her off. His eyebrows were knitted so deeply that his eyes were hidden.

"Yes, it's me," he said, asserting his authority over the phone. "I want you to do it, tonight...We had an agreement, unless you want me to go back on my words."

Tawnya tried to eavesdrop, but the alcohol blurred her alertness.

"This isn't a request. I don't care what you write, or who you go to, it needs to go out tonight...What?" Fei looked angry. "Don't you dare play dumb with me."

Cautiously, he peered over his shoulder at her, then cupped his hand over the mouthpiece in order to muffle his voice.

"Do you want to be kicked out? Because that can be easily arranged...Well, make sure it's released tomorrow. I'll be waiting."

He slammed the handset down, sinking back into the seat with a deep sigh. He could feel a headache coming with the pressure of the day catching up to him. Tawnya hummed a tune he was unfamiliar with. He wished she could be quiet or become invisible, anything to make him forget about his own quest.

He lopped his head to one side, the lines on his forehead dragging down with the frown on his face. Fei gulped, feeling an uncomfortable pang in his heart. Tawnya was a beauty. Her mixed Indonesian and Dutch blood made her exquisitely striking. He loved the touch of her skin whenever he placed his hands on her shoulders. Her hair had scents of fruit, each smell different on any given day. The deep look of her hazel eyes was genuine, evoking an emotion in him. It was easy for any man to fall for her, even him, but Tawnya had a purpose to fulfill. And loving Tawnya wasn't an option.

While it was effortless to pick Tawnya as his partner, her weak family ties made her the perfect candidate to mold her into his plan. He wished this could all be over soon without the need to double-cross her, but his people and his livelihood were at stake. The world was convinced that they were in a relationship, but now he had to take things a step further.

It was either them or her, and to his dismay, it had to be her.

*****

Chapter 11:

LA EXPRESS

LA EXPRESS Autumn Issue

EXCLUSIVE STORY

"Three Kisses from Midas"

reported by Sakura Kasugano

The film _"The Kiss from Midas"_ has just been released across the nation. Yet it is not the film's riveting plot line and effects that is enticing moviegoers to see the film, but its new star, Tawnya Blaze. For months, she has been on the front pages of nearly all celebrity magazines, giving TV interviews about her first international movie and creating buzz about her enviable relationship with her Hong Kong co-star, Fei Long.

However, Tawnya Blaze has a much darker, sinister side to her, which has been kept secret...until now. For the first time, _LA Express_ will proudly reveal what really makes Tawnya Blaze tick.

Tawnya Blaze is apparently the schizophrenic, leading a double life. This of course has some connections to Fei Long, but it also involves another man by the name of Ryu Hoshi.

Mr. Hoshi is a lone warrior, making a career out of martial arts.

The connection between Fei Long and Ryu Hoshi is simple. They once entered a martial arts competition where they fought in a match. Mr. Hoshi, the victor, destroyed Long's fighting ego. Blaze's relationship with both men is quite a complex issue.

While Blaze actively indulges in her celebrity life with Long, on a more personal level, she seems to have relations with Mr. Hoshi on a different scale altogether. _LA Express_ makes no accusation that Blaze is cheating on one for the other. Rather, the impression is that Blaze's schizophrenic demeanor has her living one life as the doting on-screen girlfriend to Long, and another life as Mr. Hoshi's stalker.

Live on _Star News_ last night, Blaze clearly stated: "Fei Long and I have an intimate understanding, deeper than any connection I've ever had with another...Some days are better than others...It's more a case of which story you believe."

Could this have been a reference to her obsession with Mr. Hoshi?

Blaze has not once stated that she has full relations with Long. She describes their relationship as "just friends", in spite of their more-than-cozy look in photos shot of the pair in clubs, commemoration parties and other celebrity social events. Handholding, secret kisses and other behind-the-scene evidence highlights their obvious relationship.

On the other hand, a reliable source confessed that Blaze is obsessed not with Long but with the mysterious martial artist, Mr. Hoshi. While shooting action scenes in Japan, Blaze was caught sporting a wound on her left arm, a fresh tattoo of the name 'Ryu'. Make-up artists revealed that the wound is self-inflicted. Co-stars also claimed to have seen similar wounds on her thigh and pelvis.

It is apparent that Blaze has been stalking Mr. Hoshi in the vilest fashion, causing pain to both herself and the victim. It is also safe to say that Mr. Hoshi has no clue as to who Tawnya Blaze is, despite the fact that she has been surreptitiously following him across the world.

"She is usually at the peak of her performance with more rehearsals," an insider told us, "but we have noticed a gradual loss of cheerfulness. She has become gloomy, taciturn and shows a tendency towards solitude."

Her mystery man is not the one causing her bodily harm, but Blaze herself. This is not the behavior of someone emotionally intact, and there is a real potential for her troubles to bring down the people closest to her, namely Fei Long.

It is not right that Blaze is using her apparent fame to hunt a man with no connection to or interest in her, and that she's on the verge of physically harming Mr. Hoshi.

Blaze's apparently schizophrenic condition needs to be attended to medically, before she can cause further harm.

The two faces of Tawnya Blaze are out.

*****

BLOCKBUSTER REVIEW

"The film that struck _GOLD_!"

reported by Kiki Wadhera

This East-Western action thriller had been the year's most anticipated film. In its first public opening, tickets to see _"The Kiss from Midas"_ were instantly sold out. Not only is it record-breaking, the movie is widely depicted as one of the best action films ever produced. Top magazines predicted that _"The Kiss from Midas"_ would rank fifth on the movie chart, but with its fast progress such a prediction has been shown to be way off base.

Many of Fei Long's movies have been blockbuster hits, so why is this particular film causing such a stir?

When starting out as an actor, the twenty-year-old Fei Long, now in his late thirties, had been scrutinized and mocked by fans. Every operating media force had scorned his pure intentions, shaming his name in disgust because he had become a Bruce Lee clone. Long was seen as an exaggerated faker on the brink of tarnishing the great work of the late Jeet Kune Do master.

During the early 1990s, no adversary would accept another man to mimic Bruce Lee's revolution, especially in and near China. In true likeness, having studied the traditional arts of Kung-fu, Long would thank his hero after showing off his talents in televised tournaments showcased across the globe. But Fei Long was generally hated. Fans nicknamed Long as "Da fei gae" the Chinese insult meaning 'jack off' for copying Lee's style and they felt genuinely deceived by him. Sometime later, however, Long's good name was slowly but surely established when Rob de Chow, the successful Hong Kong-raised director, took him under his wings.

Since then, Long has been enjoying the fruits of his solo acting career by collaborating with Chow. Accordingly, Chow has been laboring hard with his follow-up on Bruce Lee classics, avoiding criticisms of outright copyright infringement and imitating Bruce Lee's style with Long.

Recently Long decided to share the limelight with someone who was a little less unconventional, a minor American actress, Tawnya Blaze. _The Kiss from Midas_ has already boosted her credibility as an actress.

Long bashfully remarked, "My celebrity status had nothing to do with making Tawnya an instant star."

The director's trademark – flash stunts, quirky dialogues, winds of Chinese whisper - rarely appear in this latest hit. The characters themselves are juxtaposed to a Japanese anime and Western action twist.

The film is jam-packed with balletic martial arts in all their brutality and beauty, and all stunts are performed by the stars themselves. The latest in spectacular special effects techniques create the illusion of turning still and moving objects into solid gold.

The storyline was clearly inspired by the 3,000-year-old Greek myth of King Midas, the cursed sovereign of Phrygian, who had lost his sense of touch. His foolish wish to turn everything he touched to gold had been granted by the God Dionysus, and soon Midas' greed had created tragedy and disasters.

_The Kiss from Midas_ is an action love story with no happy conclusion. The plot revolves around the martial artist Chang Cao [Fei Long], who is in search of the murderer of his family, Jihan Mai [Anth Gan], but falls in love with Mai's cursed daughter Miya Mai [Tawnya Blaze]. An old lonely man joins the quest to kill Mai. Miya's father is naturally possessed with all things evil. Like most hero-turned-villain characters, the once caring father becomes a voracious, selfish sorcerer to the point of compelling his daughter to do his wicked biddings.

On her twentieth birthday, Miya's father bestows her with a poisonous gift that she will forever possess, upon which she has no control. She finds out the truth about this dubious present after bedding her fiancé, who soon becomes the shiny and lifeless property of her malevolent father.

Crossed between the warrior type and a bitter homemade princess, it has been Blaze's challenge to play an uncompassionate yet lustful woman, who is blinded by rage, desire and desperation. Unfortunately the daughter's curse cannot be washed away in the river Pactolus, as it was in the Greek myth.

Blaze has remarked, "At times I can relate to this tortured, vengeful character. When a person's soul is poisoned straight to the core, it's difficult to live a normal life and pretend that everything's okay. Miya's life is filled with despair and loathing, and this is like times in real life when women feel as though the world wants to keep them down. I'm glad that somehow, her honor is redeemed at one point, but it is unfortunate how her life ends."

Blaze goes on further to explain, "Despite her rebellious fighting exterior, deep inside lies a woman who is tortured by her own femininity, becoming an easy target of extortion. Strange things happen to her, where she is unable to separate reality from fantasy."

By all accounts, the fight training for the film was not as tedious as the rigors most actors are subjected to. Being a former martial artist, Long had the upper hand in conducting the fight sequences and stunts. This athletic preparation was a key approach in bringing Blaze and Long closer together professionally.

Long's character is fairly archetypical, yet not the dashing hero as one may have come to expect. He is just as evil as the character of Miya's father.

Though both Blaze and Long are keeping tight-lipped about further processions, it is highly suspected that Rob de Chow is already writing up the movie's follow-up.

*****

Chapter 12:

THE NEWS

This was far from music to her ears: the constant banging on the door, the screaming rings of the telephone, the rowdy yells from outside, and the voice in her head so forcefully commanding. In an attempt to silence these disturbances, Tawnya pressed her hands against her ears. Her career was just blossoming, gaining her mass public acceptance, but an opportunistic reporter had already dragged her down.

How dare she, this Sakura Kasugano, make up this bogus lie about a psychotic illness?

Right now Tawnya did look insane. Her eyes were twitchy and wide, her hair was loosely pinned in a jumbled bun, and there was an ugly look on her face that did little to sway her co-star. She rocked back and forth on an overstuffed maroon couch under a wall of black and white photographs that displayed a once-happy Tawnya. There were even a few photos of Fei Long, alone, before their relationship became so complex.

The room spun sickeningly. It made Tawnya dizzy to watch Fei pace up and down, vehemently attempting to make her talk. He looked angry. He was pounding his fist against his hand, harder and harder. Since barging into her LA home, he hadn't even taken off his sunglasses and brown leather jacket.

Fei had entered her life, but she didn't like him storming into her own private space uninvited.

"You should be open with me, Tawn. Have you any idea what this could do to your career?" Fei said, breathing deeply in an effort to keep cool, but his flaring nostrils betrayed him. "Now is a good time to tell me what the hell is going on in that head of yours."

RING RING. RING RING.

She stared at the cordless phone, which jittered on the glass coffee table a few feet in front of her. She folded her body into her knees, tapping her feet soundlessly against the chair cushion. She hoped that if she stared hard enough, the phone would disappear, but the piercing sound only continued, and it made her flinch.

"How the hell do we keep this charade up now if you can't even be straight with me?"

RING RING. RING RING.

"TAWNYA, ARE YOU LISENING TO ME?"

RING RING. RING RING.

Tawnya screamed. She picked up the handset and threw it across the room to silence it once and for all. The phone crashed against the wall. The screeching noise disappeared, but the phone wasn't broken. The caller had simply hung up.

Since 6 a.m. the phone had been ringing incessantly. Tawnya was hung-over and had only managed to catch two hours of sleep since the premiere. She felt tired, achy, cranky and out of control. It wasn't long till the shrieking rings resumed.

"For the last time, Fei, it is not true," Tawnya said, her pitch high, frustrated by his constant remarks.

Fei rubbed his hand over his mouth, tentatively watching Tawnya unravel before him. Her bottom lip quivered. She was forcing herself hard to not cry. He couldn't believe just how well the news story had worked on her.

"Ssh, just calm down," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "I'm sure we can fix this." He kissed her forehead, then rested his lips on her warm neck. "You have to keep strong. This is just one setback."

Tawnya looked up with glittery eyes, confused. She wasn't sure how to respond to his sudden calmness. He seemed so relaxed now, compared to the ferocity he had displayed just moments ago. She felt his balmy breath near her ear.

"I'm not crazy, Fei," she said in a whisper. "I...I don't know wh--"

"Forget it," Fei interrupted, pulling her closer to him. "Can you still do the job?"

Tawnya gulped upon seeing Ryu's name on her arm in an ugly cream line. She pushed herself off Fei, desperately tugging at the bottom of her sleeve to hide the scar from him, but the sleeve was too short.

"I admit, it does look bad," Rose muttered, her arms crossed on her chest, as she furtively watched over the scene.

Rose was almost camouflaged against the violet wall where a thick framed mirror hung. Her arm rested on the large electronic fireplace, carefully avoiding the vase of yellow tulips on the ledge. "This is not an easy fix."

Rose's eyes glinted a sharp green, the same color as the opposite wall that reflected in the mirror.

"What am I meant to do about this?" Tawnya asked. Her voice quivered. She couldn't take her eyes off Rose, who remained at the back of the room.

"Stay low and let me deal with this," Fei suggested. "I'll get a response piece out by the end of the week." His voice was glum, and he sounded only half-convinced.

Tawnya was hoping for Fei to crack open a smile, but his moody moroseness didn't budge. She suddenly intuited that Fei was testing her, but the idea only lasted a few milliseconds.

"What do you think?" Tawnya pointed at Rose.

Rose smiled back, her lips a full blossom of red.

"I think I've made my ideas clear, Tawn," Fei said. "Maybe you should go wash your face. You look stressed."

"Of course I'm stressed. People like Sakura Kaz...whatever, are out there to ruin me."

"Maybe you are ruining yourself," Rose hinted. She remained rigidly in the same position. Her yellow scarf seemed to have a life of its own, billowing peacefully at her side.

"HOW DARE YOU! I haven't done anything to myself!" Tawnya shrieked, jumping off the sofa. Her pulse raced with an adrenaline that made her want to hit something.

"I beg to differ," Rose laughed, waving a finger at Tawnya's bare arm.

"I DIDN'T DO THIS, YOU KNOW THAT!" Tawnya yelled, hiding the scar with her hand as she hopped about with rage.

"You need to calm down, Tawn. The press folks are listening," Fei said, gesturing with his hands to quiet her. They were both aware of the swelling crowd of reporters that eagerly waited outside for them.

"We do not want your friend thinking you are going mad, do we?" Rose smiled. Her haughty demeanor was becoming painfully irritating. Tawnya's heart pounded harder. She wanted to cry, weep for release, but Rose's presence held a certain sense of control over her.

"You don't believe her, do you?" Tawnya asked Fei, her eyes watering. She couldn't bring herself to walk to him.

"No," he said with a hint of sympathy. "You know what reporters are like. I've been there, remember?"

"Then why has your friend been calling Mr. Chow to have you fired?" Rose said with a satisfied grin, clearly unafraid of Tawnya's confrontational behavior.

"You _what_?" Tawnya spat, disgusted. "How could you do that to me, Fei?" she demanded, slapping his arm.

If Fei heard the anger in her voice, he didn't show it. He shrugged. "Do what?" he asked calmly.

"You and Rob? You're planning something, aren't you? Planning to destroy me?"

"Excuse me?" Fei was apparently stunned.

"I never know when you're telling the truth," she said in pure frustration. "And they call me the schizo." She laughed, shaking her head back.

Fei was made apprehensive by Tawnya's train of thought. She was disheveled but was clearly thinking as her eyes wondered to the back of the room. How could she know all these things? His smile faded. A hard edge crept into his voice.

"Tawn, where do you get these ideas from?"

Tawnya pointed at Rose. "She's right there, you know."

Fei turned around to see only his own reflection staring back at him in the mirror. "What are you talking about?"

"Her," Tawnya said, her tone high-pitched and loud. "Her! Can't you see her? She's right there, damn it," she insisted, thrusting her arm in Rose's direction. Tears streamed down her face. _She,_ Rose, was dominating her every thought. Why couldn't Fei see that?

Fei looked around him, impressed with her choice of furnishings, but he had no idea who she was referring to. At least, that was the impression he was hoping to make on Tawnya.

Tawnya rubbed her hands nervously through her hair. She was so angry, it took her a few minutes to be able to move again. Then she groaned irritably.

"Oh my...God! I am NOT CRAZY!" she said, poking her fingers against her forehead.

She flung herself onto the other sofa and hid her face in the cream pillow. Then suddenly she smelled musk. Looking up, Tawnya found Rose perched next to her, her legs crossed one over the other. The woman's perfect composure was unnerving.

"He thinks you're making me up," Rose said tenderly. "An illusion of the mind, perhaps."

"I'm not making you up," Tawnya said, angrily.

"You'd better convince him that you're telling the truth."

Quickly, Tawnya grabbed at Rose, but her hands went through empty air. Maybe she _was_ losing touch with reality. Yet Rose's scent was so overpowering that it was nauseating. Tawnya began to hyperventilate, her throat began to feel choked up.

"I'm telling the truth," she croaked at Fei, unable to keep her eyes off Rose. It disgusted her how Rose just continued to smile.

Tawnya sat rigid, continuing to look at Rose's beautiful face, and then flinched at Fei's forceful touch. He made Tawnya turn and look at him. Crouching in front of her with a look of concern, he used a finger to push tendrils of her hair behind her ear, and brushed them against her hoop earring.

"Sweetie, I'm not upset at you for not telling me," Fei said, trying to ease her anxiety with the gentle strokes of his finger. "But whatever relationship you have with Ryu cannot disrupt your job with me." He looked at her with a vacant glare, the newspaper clutched in his hand.

Near the burst of words was an attractive photo of them holding each other at the waist. Tawnya was wearing another one of those silky designer dresses she hated so much. She remembered this picture had been taken at Rob's fancy birthday party. It had been a day full of fake smiles and polite chitchat with people she couldn't care less about.

Tawnya breathed out irritably.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she felt herself say almost too quickly, brushing off his hand from her hair.

"Ryu and I," he began in a low tone, "...fought at a street tournament. That much is true. It was just like any other day. I was on my break from shooting and held my usual tournaments. This was back in China. I wasn't fighting everyone I met. I was a proud fighter back then and usually watched others fight until I was ready. There he was, pushed onto the stage without an opponent. I took my chance, and I got my ass kicked. He left quite an impression on me. What I don't understand is how he left an impression on you."

His voice was glum by the time he finished. Now Rose and Fei shared the same look of confusion and pain.

"Oh, he can help you more than you think," Rose remarked, caressing the rim of an imitation Ming vase that complemented nicely with the Chinese style bookshelf it sat on.

"How did you know what I was thinking?" Tawnya panted to Fei. Her chest felt unnaturally tight.

"It was obvious, Tawn," Fei said, tapping at the newspaper.

"Why are you telling me this?"

His teeth gleamed white as he smiled, and when he spoke, his voice had a ring of sincerity, perhaps even devotion. "I'm the only person batting for you." He paused for only a second, but it felt like a long time. He couldn't believe the tattoo on her arm, though. How did _she_ do it, he thought in disgust.

"Tawn, what's your connection to Ryu?"

" _He knows something,"_ _his_ demonic voice rang in her head.  
Tawnya winced. She closed her eyes to fight the nausea with all her strength, clamping her lips together until they bled.

"You need to say something to him," Rose warned, who remained sitting opposite her cross-legged.

"Shut up," Tawnya snapped, licking the bitter taste of blood with her tongue. She gagged.

"Or maybe we should ask the reporter," Rose said.

Fei's eyes narrowed. "That's it," he smiled at a sudden thought.

"What..." Tawnya stammered, creasing her forehead as Rose sent her an "and what" gesture with her hand. Her shoulders hunched with tension and her lip continued to bleed. Fei hesitated.

"Tell me," Tawnya demanded hungrily, grabbing Fei's face in her hands. Rose nodded.

"Don't hold me to this info," he regretfully sighed, "but I think that back in the day, Sakura Kasugano was Ryu's student."

Tawnya sat back. Fei covered his mouth to hide his smile, then shook his head, acting disgruntled. "I'll call _LA Express_ and have this all straightened out, okay?"

Tawnya pulled the bottom of her shirt, looking flustered.

"Isn't it obvious that this reporter is purposely trying to drive a wedge between you and Ryu?" Rose said. Tawnya didn't like the way she laughed.

"Make her stop," she winced, catching Rose look at her. She was too fatigued to make her demand clear.

"If you want," Fei agreed, glancing at the article.

"Looking clearer now, is it not?" Rose stood, gliding across the room with graceful steps.

"Actually, Fei," Tawnya stammered almost in pain. "I think I know how to deal with her."

"Perhaps it is time you gave your one and only exclusive interview to Miss Kasugano," Rose laughed as she disappeared from view.

"Perhaps I should give my one and only interview," Tawnya reiterated, her eyes stoic.

" _Phase Two,"_ the deep voice commanded in her mind.

"Phase Two," Tawnya repeated.

*****

Chapter 13:

SISTERS

Rena nibbled on her egg sandwich as she waited for her sister to finally wake up. She regretted putting Maki in her bed, but she had looked awful when Guy accidentally disturbed her. He must have forgotten their guest lay fast asleep on the sofa bed as he jumped on it. He was being punished for that intrusion with the duty of cleaning out the kitchen cupboards at last.

Rena could never understand why Guy and Maki disliked one another so vehemently. They were both practicing martial artists who clearly enjoyed training together, but at every opportunity, she would catch the two arguing. _What about?_ Rena wondered. She couldn't care less, but their bickering had to end, even if it meant locking them up in a room together to make them resolve their issues.

As she recalled last night's activity, Rena shivered. A rush of excitement tingled through her. She was sure Guy was no longer upset with her after his performance. It pleased her incredibly that he was running around the house looking for her this morning. He must have missed her, Rena thought lovingly, or else he would have stayed in bed just to avoid Maki.

She picked the white bread crumbs from the small dish and threw them onto a newspaper. Her hands fumbled over the wooden surface of the table until she couldn't feel any more scraps.

"It looks much better in here now," Guy's voice echoed, his head stuck inside the cupboard. He was on his hands and knees scrubbing the ceiling of the cupboard with a disinfectant that perfumed the small peach-colored kitchen.

"Once I'm done," Guy declared, pulling his head out into the open air, "you'll never have to scrub this kitchen again."

Rena hummed in response, placing a hand under her chin before taking another small bite. Now she wondered whether she had been too loud while Maki slept downstairs.

"I hope you're not saying that just so you can leave early," she answered, failing to sound the least bit authoritative.

"Hey, when I said I'll get it done, I meant it, okay?" he shot back, trying hard not to sound angry. He hated acting so fake with her. "Anyway, this is _my_ house."

"No, it's our house now." Rena smiled, dusting more crumbs off her hands. She leaned over Guy and peered into the cupboard with a frown. "And you missed a bit," she said, pointing at a tiny scuff mark near the hinge of the door.

"What? That little thing? You can barely see it," Guy moaned.

"Well, I can," Rena muttered, tugging the blue cloth from Guy's hand.

"I said I'll do it, didn't I?" he groaned bitterly.

"I know, I know," she said distractedly, rubbing quickly over the mark. "There. All gone," she finished with a smile, and resumed her seat at the round wooden table.

Guy leaned against the cupboard, bored, and wishing he were upstairs. He couldn't help but think of the other sister sleeping in his bed. If he hadn't been forced to clean his own damned kitchen, he would have gone mad thinking about Maki in her sports underwear.

"You going to make me any coffee at all?" he said, turning back to catch a sight of the ugly floral tablecloth Rena had recently bought. He was even more appalled to see the fake flowers beside his chrome toaster and kettle. Worst of all was the hideous framed picture of playful cats and dogs that hung beside his beautifully painted martial arts canvas. He felt so alienated from his own home. He had to encourage Rena to leave.

For good.

"I'll put the kettle on, shall I?" he grunted, hoping that Rena would notice the sarcasm in his voice, but she didn't. Even after living in America for years, Rena barely understood English.

He watched her as he waited for the water to boil. As she sat looking through the pictures in the paper, he found her so unattractive, so plain. Her beige dress was the same color as her make-up free face. The only color on her was the floral printed scarf around her neck, and he hated it. He hated anything flowery and distinctly feminine.

Unaware that he had been coldly staring, Rena flashed him a quick smile. It roused Guy back to reality. He felt sick to his stomach to have made ravenous love to her. Being forced to keep away from the woman he really wanted had made the tension in the room last night almost too much to bear. Guy was appalled by his actions, and was anxious to check whether Maki was truly okay.

"I'm gonna ask your little sister if she wants something to drink," he slurred.

Rena nodded, catching only the words "little sister" in English.

Guy desperately ran up the spiral staircase, hearing Rena say, "If she's awake, tell her to get dressed quickly, so we can go shopping."

Guy peered over the bedroom doorway, and his heart juddered loudly as he discovered Maki still asleep. He felt guilty to be waking her, but frustration overcame his patience. He leaned toward her warm face and nestled a gentle kiss on her cheek. She let out a soft murmur, inviting Guy to plant another kiss on the same spot. She opened her eyes lazily smiling, but then her expression changed.

"Get off me, you jerk," she recoiled, pushing him hard on the chest.

Guy's smile dropped. Her hostility hurt him. Maki looked angry. Her palm was out to keep him away.

"What's wrong?" he asked, genuinely concerned, wondering where to place his hands.

"Ooooh Guuuy, ahhh, ahhh," Maki imitated her sister, pulling exaggerated sex faces. "You gave her like three orgasms last night, you asshole."

"Maki, I--"

"Get your stinking hands off me," she yelled.

"Shh, she's downstairs," he whispered with strain.

"You didn't seem too bothered with me being downstairs last night. I heard you go at it like rabbits. Damn, Guy, you're such a dick," she snapped, pulling the cover over her face and turning her back to him.

Guy felt stabbed in the heart. He suddenly heard Rena call his name, but ignored her.

"And don't you dare blame the alcohol for your disgusting behavior," she snapped, keeping hidden behind the pillow. "That's a cheap way out."

He smoothed a place on the bed. "I wouldn't be lying if I said that I thought of you the entire time."

Feeling brave, Guy tugged at the duvet. Maki's blonde fringe flopped carelessly over her face.

"Do you have any idea how sorry I am?" he said, his whole body yearning forward. "I had my eyes closed thinking of you."

"Oh, the sweet loving sentiment, it melts my heart," Maki jeered.

He was at least glad she knew how to use sarcasm.

"You make me sick," she growled, her voice muffled, as they argued over the duvet.

"Your smell," Guy whispered in his best seductive voice as he pulled Maki with the duvet. She continued to growl but he couldn't let go. "Hhmm, your skin," he sniffed, nuzzling his face behind her ear.

Maki couldn't help but moan as she felt her nape massaged with his soft kisses. Then she slapped him on the face. As if she was that pathetic to succumb to his cheating touches!

"You disgust me," Maki spat with pure hatred.

"I love it when you call my name," he whispered again, almost crawling on top of her. "...when you pull me closer to you."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she yelled, pushing him off with a hard shove. Her breath deepened as the rage surged within her. "You come near me again and I swear to God, I'll scream."

Guy parted his lips, ready to grab Maki into a passionate kiss, but the call of his name distracted him.

"Guy, Guuuuuuy," Rena called from the bottom of the staircase in a singsong voice.

"WHAT?" he yelled, with desperate anger.

He rolled his eyes at Maki, then moved off the bed to peer out of the room. He caught a glimpse of Rena's smiling face and watched her gesture with her hands to come down, before she disappeared back into the kitchen.

"Hurry up and get dressed, okay!" he ordered Maki, who refused to turn around. "You not being downstairs is killing me."

Maki lay silently in bed, holding herself rigidly still. Guy nodded, not knowing what else to say, but his heart thumped uncomfortably, and he forced himself to walk out.

"Hey, Guy," Maki said suddenly, her voice alive with the love and emotion he craved. He turned around, his eyes soft and expectant, but then his jaw swung open.

"Yeah, dirt bag, this is for you," Maki yelled with her middle finger up in the air. She was topless and he didn't know which to focus on before she jumped under the duvet.

Back in the kitchen, he found Rena in the same position as he had left her. He wondered why she wanted him so urgently. He nonchalantly walked over to her, placing a hand on her thin shoulder. The aching disappointment over Maki continued to pang in his chest.

"Yes?" he snapped with a hint of bitterness.

"Guy, take a look at this," Rena said, passing the newspaper to him.

"What about it?" he said with no feeling.

"Just read. I saw something in there that might interest you."

And to Guy's astonishment, it did. He took a seat opposite her, and one fleeting glance at the article raised his eyebrows.

"Whoa, Ryu? Damn, never thought I'd see him in the papers," he said in astonishment. "This sure brings back memories."

He thought of a time when he tried to teach Ryu a special kicking technique that he had learned from Genryusai. At the time, Ryu had been too stubborn to listen to any of Guy's suggestions, and deemed his master Gouken's fighting techniques more superior.

Guy remembered Ryu to be a proud warrior, but this was before either of them had formally entered tournaments.

Guy gasped, suddenly feeling desperate to meet with him again. Surely, a man dedicated to the arts would be able to tell him how someone is able to destroy by using his own powers. The devastation the stranger had caused to his old home, Guy simply couldn't forget that. Ryu reminded him that he still needed to catch the perpetrator, even from America.

"You were friends with him, right?" Rena confirmed, watching Guy tense up. "You met him when we first started to date, I think." She giggled like a school girl. "You thought he had a thing for me 'cause he would blush and avert his eyes from me..."

Guy nodded his head quickly, not listening to a word Rena was saying. He gripped the paper tighter, scrutinizing each word carefully. Why the hell was Ryu involved in a strange scandal with a movie star? As far as Guy could recall, Ryu hated attention, and he always kept to himself. Until now, Guy had almost forgotten a friendship existed between them. He wasn't exactly the greatest communicator of all time, but Guy sympathized with his friend for having his name splashed in some black and white.

"If Ryu's in the _LA Express_ ," Guy chimed in, cutting Rena off, "it means he must be in the area." He needed to find Ryu, quick, in order to help him understand the unusual techniques shown by the perpetrator.

"Gee, sis," Rena groaned childishly. "I thought you'd never wake up." She passed a hot cup of coffee to Maki, who had crept into the kitchen.

Guy tilted his head to catch a sight of their visitor standing against the kitchen wall. He was lucky that Rena took no notice of him with his mouth hanging half-open, and his gaze probing the navy tank top and shorts that revealed Maki's succulent flesh. He felt himself go weak in the knees, accidentally letting the newspaper slip through his fingers.

"Morning, brother-in-law," Maki said bitterly, glowering at Guy as she sipped on her morning beverage.

*****

Chapter 14:

VACATION

"Don't slow down now, dude, you've got another 297 to go, no no, another 286. Ha, ha, look at this guy go."

Sean bent low over his knees, bopping his dreadlocked head up and down to keep count, but Ryu was too fast for him.

"Ha ha ha, wow man, you're a machine."

Ryu looked ahead of him, using his thumb and forefingers for balance as he hoisted his body up and down from the floor. To say the least, having Mel ride his back did nothing to make his morning pushups any easier. His red t-shirt was already wet with sweat and his head felt dizzy.

"Smelvin, check out the vein on his forehead," Sean laughed, commenting to Mel. "He must have done close to 1000 by now." The boys were relentless.

"Hmmm, Mom," Mel said, shoving a banana cinnamon waffle into his mouth. "Thish ish pfweety good."

Mel took no notice of the mess he was making as he leaned forward to wave a half-eaten waffle over Ryu's face.

"Want some?" he said with a cheeky grin. His expression dropped when he saw his mother scowl at him, but then Sean made him laugh again.

Ryu was ready to hurl. He knew it wasn't a good idea to so thoroughly obey the pleas of two teenagers right after a mammoth breakfast. As Eliza had lain out the waffles, turkey strips, and pancakes, Ryu couldn't help but shovel the food in. First, he slathered maple syrup over the raspberry pancakes, then he drank a thick shake along with scrambled turkey and eggs. He regretted it now, but he was on vacation, as Ken had reminded him plenty of times.

Ryu tried to speak in protest, but the pressure of Mel's weight made him splutter. He could hear everyone laughing at him with Sean's continued commentary describing the look on his face.

"Whoa, cowboy, I think your horse is ready to collapse," Ken laughed, straining himself to peer over the table where the boys huddled around Ryu. "Can you believe it? Ryu - the mighty warrior toppled by two kids? I bet this oughta do it," he said, flicking a dry piece of turkey across the limestone kitchen floor.

"Ken, no," Eliza said, appalled at the escalating mess, but before she had the chance to say more, a loud whistle echoed from Ken's direction.

"Oh no," she groaned, dragging her hand over her face.

Their black Doberman entered the kitchen with its ears pricked up and alert.

"Sparky, here boy," Ken cooed, slapping at his thighs.  
With the sound of his master's voice, the dog ran up to him at once, and snatched the meat from his hand.

"243...242...241..." Sean continued, adamant to keep count of Ryu's efforts.

"I told you not to feed that dog junk, Ken," Eliza said, shaking her head at his indulgence. "Dr. Sloane said that if you continue to feed him the way you do, he'll end up obese and dead like Milton."

Ken smirked, releasing the dog to let it explore the floor space. Ryu watched Sparky from the corner of his eye and felt his legs go weak. For some strange reason, that dog loved him.

"Get...off," Ryu muttered in between holding his breaths, but the wet tongue licked over his already moistened face. He collapsed to the ground wrestling to get Sparky off him with Sean and Mel also on the ground, rolling in laughter.

"Ken, are you going to let them treat him like that?" Eliza said warily. She hadn't expected their breakfast together in the house to be such a drama.

"Nah, the dog's used to it."

"I meant Ryu," she snapped, pointing at her husband's guest. "Oh, why do I even bother trying?" she said loudly for Ken's benefit, but he seemed too busy reading the paper to even listen to her.

She yanked Sparky by the collar, yelling, "No, Sparky. Bad dog, naughty dog," but feeling her energy level drop, Eliza released the dog before slouching into an empty chair.

"You cheated, Ken," Ryu finally said, taking a seat beside her at the end of the table. "I only had a few more to go."

"You whiny baby," Ken joked. "Can't you chill for one day?"

"Yeah well," Ryu huffed, wiping his brow with a clean napkin. "It's your turn now."

Ken frowned at him. "With a full stomach? No way, I'm already getting a belly." He lifted his shirt, exposing a tight ripped stomach. He tapped at it humorously.

"Well, I think I'm getting a stomach ache," Ryu said, rubbing over his t-shirt.

He hadn't realized how much he missed eating American food. He remembered once returning to Japan with extra weight on him. It was the perfect excuse to continue his training routine, but he was in no hurry to leave.

Since arriving in San Francisco, Ryu had developed a quick bond with Ken's family. Mel no longer thought him scary, Sean was determined to train harder, and Eliza was the perfect hostess as usual. This was the holiday he needed so desperately to escape from his single-minded dedication. Even if he wanted to train, Sean and Mel made sure things were a little creative.

"It's a vacation, it's a vacation," he mumbled to himself.

Eliza bit her lip taken aback by Ryu's discomfort, then a sudden realization filled her with joy. For the first time in a long time, her family was sitting together at the dining table. Too often she was left alone in the house to make small talk with the house cleaners while Mel was at school, and Sean and Ken were at work. Despite her previous reservation, she felt surprised to hold such warm feelings for Ryu. His presence alone had compelled Ken to take some needed time off, and the kids were accommodating Ryu by letting him play basketball with them.

She peered at her husband with great curiosity. It was strange to see him so engrossed with reading. He rarely looked up, and he was finding what he needed on the table by feeling around with his hands.

"Anything interesting, babes?" Eliza asked him with a note of fake interest. He had been so quiet for so many minutes, whatever he was reading really had his attention.

"Nah," he murmured, barely looking at her.

Now irritation filled her. Ken had been so busy with Ryu that he hardly noticed her. She had even dressed up for her husband by imitating Marilyn Monroe, wearing the fresh white halter neck dress he loved so much. But even that maneuver had failed.

Sean and Mel occupied themselves with the dog and Ryu had his eyes closed to the world.

Eliza sighed. She almost felt jealous of the stupid dog, which seemed to get more affection in the house than she had for months. No one had even bothered to thank her for breakfast, nor offered her a serving. With Ryu's special visit, she had thought it would be kind to offer him home cooking instead of eating out all the time. Perhaps tomorrow she wouldn't bother.

Fiddling nervously with her long blonde hair, she pursed her lips, not knowing what to say to Ryu. He was hardly the chatty type and they had little in common. Licking her lips, she made a start anyway.

"Got a belly ache, Sunshine?" she asked, painfully smiling at him. Ryu waved in response. Well that didn't fire a conversation, Eliza thought grimly. She rested her head dejectedly against her hand.

"You want anything for the pain? Ginger ale, Pepto-Bismol, anything?" she tried again.

Ryu lifted his head up with a look of alarm. "I'll be fine. Just need to sit for a bit. Thanks."

"No way, dude, we've got a packed day today," Ken interrupted, winking at him.

"Yeah, I wanna go to Pier 39," Mel tuned in, pushing Sparky to Sean who started to annoy him. "My friend Matty is trying out as one of the street performers. I SO gotta check that out, yeah, Dad?"

Ryu noticed that Mel and Ken had the same brash smile.

"Well, kiddo, you're the boss. That's if it's okay with you, Ryu."

Ryu shrugged. "So long as there's no boat ride."

"Ahhhh, man," Sean moaned a little too loudly. "That's the best part."

Eliza was stunned. As soon as Ken opened his mouth, the rest of the family suddenly came to life.

"Don't you wanna know what I wanna do?" she asked, looking around the table, hoping that someone was interested.

"Oh, I didn't know you wanted to come, sweetheart. It'll be boring for you, just with the boys," Ken claimed too casually.

"But I..." Eliza tried defending herself, but felt a kiss on her cheek. Ken smiled at her briefly then walked over to Ryu.

"Hey, gotta show you something. Let's go to the other room," she heard Ken whisper as they huddled in a strange mode of secrecy. Longingly, she watched the two walk off.

Smiling, she turned to Sean and Mel, curious about their plans, but before she had the chance to ask, they were out of the kitchen and calling after the dog. Eliza found herself alone with a pile of dirty dishes. The large white kitchen resounded with an eerie silence. Only the spinning fork on the table caught her attention.

"Great," she sighed miserably. "Just great."

*****

As he read the paper, Ryu felt his throat catch with a shock that made him speechless. His eyes glazed over the article again, this time concentrating profoundly on the picture in the paper, as if he was on the edge of something profound. He was, and considering this discovery, it was incredible how calm his mind was. Without expression, he considered Ken, who stared at him.

"Yes or no?" Ken said in a serious tone.

"Yes. That's definitely her," Ryu confirmed quietly. His voice sounded strange. "It has to be."

"You've hit the jackpot," Ken said, shaking Ryu with vigor. His big eyes and wide grin made Ryu grimace. He hated how quickly Ken's expression could change. He shook his head, not understanding the remark.

"What? You're kidding, right?" Ken's smile dropped, then he slapped his fingers against the picture. "A movie superstar, Tawnya Blaze, Fei Long's side-kick...she's your mystery lady. C'mon, dude, you got lucky. Guys would kill to have a woman like that stalk them. Least you know who she is, right?"

Ryu looked down at the newspaper article, confused that a movie star could have any connections to the Dark Hadou. He felt uncomfortable about her relationship with Fei Long. Ryu sighed, not knowing what to make of this story, but he knew he had to take it one step at a time. Her celebrity status would make tracking her easy, but revealing her true intentions would be his great challenge.

"You wouldn't have thought little Sakura to have written this, though. She's come a long way," Ken commented.

"What did you say?" Ryu shot back. His voice trembled in alarm.

"Sakura, your former student. She wrote the article. You haven't forgotten her already, have you? Hmm, must have been a warning or something."

"Sakura?"

"Makes me think," Ken continued, oblivious to Ryu's tone, "...I would've never suspected Sakura would work in the media, but I guess that suits her energetic personality. She must have missed you. Look, she even salutes you as 'Mister'." Ken laughed.

Ryu felt the terrible pressure of responsibility grip him in weakness. He stuttered her name, then ran.

"Hey, where're you going?" Ken said, alarmed with Ryu for pushing him out of the way. A sick wrenching notion forced him into action.

"Sakura!" Ryu yelled, running through the corridor with the article clutched in his fist. "She's in danger," his voice echoed.

*****

Chapter 15:

NOSTALGIA

"Leave me alone."

" _Look for her. Hunt the girl down."_

"I won't do it."

" _You will obey me."_

"Get...outta my damn head."

" _Good good, she's close by. Exterminate her."_

"No."

" _You will. I will make you."_

"You can't make me do anything."

" _You will have no choice but to obey."_

The throbbing voice boomed in her head like wild elephants running through shallow water. No matter how hard she tried to push it out, the thunderous commands consumed her senses. Despite her resistance, she obeyed.

As she scurried through the large open gate, Tawnya almost stumbled over the pavement. The hooded jacket shadowed her eyes and the black scarf concealed her mouth. It was a simple but effective disguise to hide her famous face. Her voice was muffled. She wanted to scream.

" _She ruined you,"_ whispered the ugly voice.

Tawnya hurled onto the ground like a drunk. She clawed at the soft soil beneath her. Pain seared through her every time he spoke. Trees rustled harshly, as orange autumn leaves parachuted to the pale smoky grass. Her surroundings were pastoral. She was in a public park.

" _Good. You're nearly there now."_

Tawnya stood behind a large tree, clasping her hands tightly against her ears, willing for no other sound to enter.

" _Now wait."_

It was too painful to loosen her hands, even for a second.

" _Wait."_

*****

Sakura sat on the park bench praying for some excitement to enter this dull and boring day. She rested her head on her hands, having quit passing flyers to bystanders. She couldn't believe she was back to her old career, the incredibly monotonous, slow, absurdly boring job of leaflet throwing. To think that such a job even existed in America!

"Bah, Promotion Officer my ass," Sakura moaned, ripping open a packet of tissue where the leaflet hid.

She examined the content with little interest. A pair of cartoon bosoms stared back at her, with the caption "Quick Surgery Ahoy" splashed across the flyer. She knew this was a dodgy company paying little money, but beggars couldn't be choosers, she reckoned, especially after _LA Express_ fired her over the article.

Frustrated, Sakura dumped the packet onto the grass and let out a long, deep sigh. This most certainly wasn't how she had pictured her adventure in America to turn out. She couldn't help but wonder how her friend Kei was doing in Italy. She hoped she was just as miserable. Or at least just as alone.

"Not for long," she said, taking out the book ' _The Master of Zen Philosophy'_ from her 'I love LA' messenger bag.

Sakura reminisced about the moments she had spent with Ryu. Often he would pass on to her Gouken's words of wisdom, sounding poetic and almost philosophical in his sincere recall. While he portrayed a beautiful image of the divine artistry of the eleventh kata, Sakura would bashfully smile and nod without understanding a word he was saying. _Not this time_ , she thought brightly.

She had a feeling that Ryu wasn't far away, and she had to prepare for their reunion...just in case.

"Aha!" she cried, finding the page she wanted, the one with a stiff bookmark lodged in the crease.

Her smile grew mischievously as she thought of how she was still being paid by the hour. She had another two hours to kill before collecting her pay.

Bringing her attention back to the book, Sakura read aloud, hoping that the instruction would instinctively make sense.

"' _The great way is right before our eyes, but it is still hard to see what is beyond our sight. If you want to know the true substance of the great way, it is not a part of sound and form, words and speech.'"_

Sakura looked away, thoughtfully tapping her chin while the teaching processed in her brain. Then she scanned the next line, hoping that this time the words would be a little less confusing.

"' _Faith is the basis of the path, the mother of virtue; it nourishes all roots of goodness. If teachers are effective, then you know they are to be regarded as wise leaders.'"_

With more patience, Sakura took a moment to crack the code. She saw Ryu in her mind, telling her repeatedly that he was not ready to teach anybody, even after thirty-odd years in training. He had the moves of a predator, swift, fluent and deadly, and she only wanted to learn to kick and punch without falling on her face. Of course, he was ready to teach!

Sakura clicked her fingers as the explanation unexpectedly became clear.

"Ryu-san lives his life through the practice of Zen," she blurted aloud. "It must be! That's what he used to go on and on about. He was taught how to live 'the great way.' That must mean the path of the true warrior. He followed that route because it felt right for him, not because he was told to do so, meaning ' _sound and form, words and speech_.'"

Sakura smiled at her cleverness, half embarrassed that she was talking to herself again. But who cares, she thought. She talked to herself all the time. Gaining confidence, she flicked through the next page, pointing at another philosophy.

"' _Virtue has no fixed teacher; focus on goodness is the teacher.'"_ She grinned.

"That's why Ryu-san refused to teach me properly. I guess he wanted me to focus on what I was doing rather than who my sensei was. Gosh, I could learn a lot about how Ryu-san lives his life through this."

Sakura glanced at her watch and thought to take her book indoors. The temperature had started to drop, with the sun disappearing behind angry clouds. A few raindrops fell, making gray spots on the page where they landed. Hurriedly, Sakura closed the book and grabbed the rest of her things, but a piece of paper escaped her.

"Ah, my bookmark," she said, snatching the rose engraved tarot card from the grass.

Just then, she felt dizzy, straightening up too fast, and she found a tall woman standing before her.

"Uhh," Sakura said, surprised, taken aback by her sudden appearance.

"You called for me?" the woman asked almost expectantly. She lifted an eyebrow, as if waiting for a snap answer.

"Uhm, sorry, I don't think so," Sakura said, confused, bundling the leaflet packets into her arms.

"Tissue?" she offered eagerly, her arm outstretched waiting for the stranger to refuse her.

Rose lifted her nose, waving off the gesture with a graceful hand. "I see you have my card, young lady," she said, her voice resonating.

Then Rose nodded, poised with a confidence that almost shook Sakura.

She looked at the card with the rose, then looked up at the lady again. She suddenly remembered finding the card on her desk at _LA Express,_ together with Fei Long's note. Sakura tensed on the spot, trying to think of what to say.

"Ahhh," she began, peering at Rose more closely. She felt a sense of nostalgia. It wasn't every day that she bumped into someone who dressed this elegantly. "Have we met before?"

"Conceivably," Rose said.

Suddenly Sakura stumbled back, clasping her hands tight over her ears. The sound of Rose's voice was screechy, nothing like her soft smile. As Sakura straightened up, she stared at the woman with great distrust and curiosity.

"Who are you?" she ventured, asserting herself.

"My name is Rose," the lady said, her voice coming in a strange echo. Her mouth didn't move but her eyes were intense. "You should prepare for battle. You must turn to it with complete acceptance of what it is, expecting nothing, wanting to change nothing. But it will be the most important shaping of your life."

Sakura watched her move a little away from her. The woman's walk was so sinuous that Sakura felt a pang of jealousy. Her head spun as she tried to analyze every word Rose had spoken, but she could hardly hear herself think. She blinked, then found that Rose was no longer with her.

How could she just disappear?

Sakura checked her surroundings, feeling frightened. It was rare for her to feel fear, but something about 'Rose' didn't feel right.

A loud, ruthless thunderclap woke the sky after a stunning lightening display. Sakura screamed in terror, clasping her mouth abruptly with her hands.

"Snap out of it, Sakura," she then yelled at herself, embarrassed by her own outburst. "I hope that weirdo was talking about the weather changing."

Large drops of rain trickled over her face. In a matter of seconds, Sakura was soaked.

"Dang," she bawled, hurriedly stuffing the leaflets into her bag and running towards the largest tree she could find.

*****

Chapter 16:

INNOCENT HATRED

"Move over a little, my hair's getting wet."

Rena snuggled closer to Guy, trying to catch as much of the tree's shelter as possible. She rubbed her wet hands over her bare arms, sighing disapprovingly that her lavender printed blouse was drenched, but she knew from experience that the rain would only last a few minutes. She was hoping that her fiancé would warm her up with his gentle touch, but Guy was clearly distracted.

He stood rigid against the tree, keeping a watch over the crowd in case he missed seeing Ryu. It had been an hour now. Guy doubted whether Ken had informed Ryu of their meeting when they spoke on the phone.

Rena threw her arms around Guy's shoulders, feeling left out by his silent thoughts.

"Something more important than me, husband?" she said, frowning.

When he heard the word 'husband' escape her, uncomfortable shivers ran through him. It felt nice when he could forget for a moment of his promise to marry her. His relationship with Rena had died the moment he realized their marriage was pre-determined. But as her father Genryusai had stressed, it was an honor he had to commit.

Guy forced himself to look at her. Her smiling face looked back searchingly. He could feel her fingers stroke his wet nape, and her legs advancing closer to his.

"Actually, babe," he struggled to say, unwrapping her arms from around him. "I brought you here because I have something to tell you."

"Yes?" she said in an effort to encourage him, and her eyes failed to conceal her hunger. This was it, she thought. This was the moment she had been waiting for, for over seven years. The announcement of the date.

Guy looked away, her genuine smile of happiness stinging him. He felt her hand on his face now.

"Do you know how sweet you look in the rain?" he finally whimpered, miserably ashamed of his cowardice. He pulled her towards him, hiding his face, disgraced. He knew that the wedding was planned in Rena's head, and that she had begun to adopt his surname. He knew he didn't have the courage to break her heart.

Rena's gaze dropped.

"No, Rena, I...can't."

His lips quivered as he tried to find the strength to quickly divulge what he was really thinking about.

The rain increased with intensity. Huge droplets pounded through the large maple tree leaves, splashing onto them.

Sakura jostled the couple's rigid embrace as she ran under there for shelter.

"Sorry," she said, having clearly flustered Rena.

"You can't what?" Rena redirected Guy, but was unable to stop glaring at Sakura, who stared back just as harshly.

"I can't see him," Guy mumbled in English, searching the park with his eyes.

He couldn't believe how unlucky he was. He politely half-smiled at Sakura, who watched them with great curiosity. He couldn't break up with Rena with someone overhearing them. That would be humiliating.

"I didn't think you were serious about seeing him," Rena said biting her lip, unhappy about Guy's abrupt statement.

"Well, if it wasn't for you showing me the article, I wouldn't have known he was here."

"I mean I don't understand why you want to see him."

"I've already explained. I won't tell you again. Anyway, you said it yourself, it's been too long."

"I shouldn't have shown you that damned thing," Rena retorted, unable to release him from her embrace.

"Don't talk like that, Rena. It doesn't suit you," Guy frowned, holding her tighter against him. He couldn't bear to see that look of disappointment.

"I know. I'm sorry."

From the corner her eye, Sakura watched the couple kiss and resume their embrace. She felt almost jealous of their show of affection for each other. Sakura was in America, in a dead-end job, and living alone in a noisy apartment complex that she was paying far too much for.

"Life sucks," she said to herself, kicking the muddy grass with her toe.

Suddenly, she felt herself being yanked backward. Her bag flew out of her arm as she skidded across the muddy grass. A soggy newspaper rustled in her face, and she felt constricted by an awkward sick sensation that welled in her chest. Her eyes were widened by the sudden perception of a large crowd encircling her.

"You're not getting away that easily, Kasugano," a woman shouted over the spattering rain.

Sakura rubbed her eyes, hard, trying to gain a clearer picture of who was towering over her. The woman tossed the paper at her before ripping the hood away from her face. Her angry eyes looked down at Sakura with gloved hands gripped into fists.

"Holy crap," she gulped, surprised to see Tawnya Blaze standing an inch from her. She clutched at the newspaper, glancing over the familiar story, the ugly reminder of something she dearly wanted to forget.

"Oh shit," she murmured, feeling hot in the face. She hadn't expected Tawnya to hunt her down for this, certainly not in person.

"I can explain," Sakura stuttered. Her voice was shaky.

"There is nothing for you to explain," Tawnya said tight-mouthed. There was a look of madness in her eyes.

Sakura tried to stand, but was pushed down with a kick. She held her stomach for a few short seconds, then suddenly felt a strong rage. This woman was starting a fight with her! She took a deep breath, let it out, then smiled crookedly.

A real street fight! Sakura thought, gleaming, and cocked her head to the side. It had been a while, but this fight would be a piece of cake, she thought excitedly.

A few drunken men bellowed "Fight, fight, fight," as they consumed alcohol in the pouring rain from concealed paper bags. Despite their singing and Sakura standing a few feet away, Tawnya's mind was elsewhere.

" _Get rid of her,"_ she heard _him_ command.

Tawnya flexed her neck, but helplessly nodded at the buzz of instruction in her mind.

Instantly, she swung a fist, but the punch was easy for Sakura to duck.

As she heard Tawnya roar and try to scratch with her claws, Sakura wanted to laugh. She ducked and dived Tawnya's unruly attacks as quick shots of adrenaline pumped through her.

"This fight is a breeze," Sakura laughed confidently.

She bounced from foot to foot and tensed her forearm to block. She was fighting automatically with no command necessary.

Then she staggered back, her face stinging.

Sakura touched her face, gasping, "No way." With a growl she lunged forward, driving a fist into Tawnya's carelessly exposed left shoulder. As Tawnya stumbled, Sakura hurried onward, stabbing into her shoulder with triple punches before retreating with a low roundhouse kick. Quickly, she grabbed Tawnya's neck, squeezing hard to choke her from behind.

Tawnya gagged, trying to wriggle free, but the more she wrenched, the harder it was to breathe. Her sight blurred.

" _You weak fool. Fight,"_ the voice screamed at her.

"YES!" Tawnya yelled with a mysterious new strength, and with a mighty roar hurled Sakura over her shoulder. Her eyes glowed eerily.

Sakura could feel her ragged breath on her face, and her heart pounded harshly as she felt her face sting with slaps, one after another.

"You can't win, reporter."

"Oh-yes-I-can," Sakura snarled back.

As far as Sakura was concerned, this was just another high school brawl, and Tawnya was just another piece of meat. She was the Street Fighter, not this wannabe actress.

Sakura rolled left, barely missing the fist that smashed into the grass. Quickly, she forced her knee into Tawnya's face, once, twice, then pummeled her fist into her stomach with one hard blow. Sweat leaked from her short brown hair. Her hands snapped with a violence that frightened even her.

Tawnya held herself from the pain, breathing erratically.

" _Do not fail me..."_

Tawnya pulled herself back on her feet but was distracted by a harsh thunder clap. Sakura sprinted at her with small grazing uppercuts, and then flew into the air with a mimicked version of Ryu's "dragon punch".

" _SHOOOOOOU-KEN_."

Ryu smiled at her with his hands outstretched to her in a vision.

"You're doing well, Sakura," he said sympathetically. "But I've noticed you have a tendency to run at me with a punch."

"I don't have great range just standing," Sakura moaned, her face long. "When I run, I feel I'm able to jump into the air higher."

"Why do you have to jump at all? By moving as much as you do, you will only tire yourself out. Think of a weeping willow. The bark of the tree is its body, while the branches are its extensions. You need to learn to develop your reach by strengthening the tips of your branch."

Sakura stared at him confused, then swung her arms from side to side with her legs wide apart. Ryu shook his head, placing his hand on her hip.

"This is your core," he said, gently squeezing her hip, "...along with this," he said hovering his hand over her stomach. "Keep your core strong, tense it, now punch."

Sakura did as she was told, hearing a short snapping sound at the end of her punch. She beamed, surprised at her own strength.

"That is your reach," Ryu concluded. His mouth twitched. "...To use the inner strength of your body to expel outer force."

"Reach," Sakura reminded herself, flicking a solid kick as Tawnya fell. She heard a soft pound as the kick connected with muscled tissue. Sakura smiled, pleased.

"So, what's Plan B, Ryu-san?" but no flashbacks came to her mind. "Damn it, I guess I'm on my own then."

Tawnya felt helpless for a moment, squirming on the ground because of the pain that rippled through her. In her mind she heard the scornful words, _"Weakling. You cannot lose to a mere girl. Pathetic."_

She bowed to the grass, digging her fingers into the soft roots until she was able to grab dirt. Never in her life had she felt her body bruise and hurt like this. The sensation to vomit upon seeing her blood nearly overwhelmed her. Tawnya scrunched further into a ball, pulling her knees to her chest.

" _Incompetent feeble being."_

Her muscles ached. Tawnya wanted to scream from the harsh pains that throbbed violently across her body. But all she could really do was whimper like a wounded dog.

"Stop, please stop it," Tawnya begged the voice inside her. She was half-sobbing in panic.

" _You are losing. You must win."_

The voice was a distraction from her deep physical pain, but she didn't want this fight. She had meant no real harm to the girl. She wanted to escape.

" _You are me."_

The thunder drummed with greater strength, echoing into the distance. The words "Fight, fight," continued louder and louder in unison by the drunk spectators.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Tawnya screamed above the noise, thrusting her half-opened fist at Sakura, who looked like one big gray smudge to her. "DON'T YOU DARE COME ANY CLOSER!"

" _Good, good."_

"Shut the hell up," Tawnya yelled, glaring at the grass. Blood dripped from her nose.

" _She will be no more."_

Possessed, Tawnya launched with two spin kicks so quick that Sakura barely had time to react.

" _Harder, one more push."_

From the corner of her eye, Tawnya saw a shadow creep up at her. She jumped in mid-air, kicking in a rotating motion that caught Sakura in its vortex.

" _Tatsumaki-Zankukyaku."_

She scrambled backwards, slipping and sliding as she landed sloppily on her feet. "I said, SHUT...UP!"

Then, as if that energy had completely left her body, Tawnya collapsed to the ground, shakily crying into her hand, confused by the voice that stabbed repeatedly at her.

"Why do you keep talking?" she whimpered, gripping onto her sleeves tightly. "Why don't you ever shut up and leave me alone?"

Sakura rolled onto her stomach, spluttering and licking at her lips. _Crazy bitch_ , she thought angrily, looking at her surroundings with her one open eye. She saw legs, many legs idly standing, some thicker looking than others. But suddenly her throat felt tight. The sudden sight of him shook her. She knew it was Ryu, far back in the rain-soaked crowd. That tattered gi was unmistakable. He seemed to be wavering, torn by some internal dilemma, but Sakura didn't notice. She wanted to run up to him with a hug, and tear him away from the park, as far away from Tawnya as possible. Her heart shook. She suddenly felt self-conscious. This stupid woman couldn't show her up, not in front of him. Ever.

"True victory is to give all of yourself, without regret," Ryu once explained to her. Sakura groaned. Her energy was drained, but the bitch was behind her. She could hear Tawnya's vulgar voice muttering something.

"I have to beat her," Sakura mumbled to herself. "I remember what you said, Ryu-san...'One fight, one more step on the path to becoming a true warrior'. I'll do it."

Smiling, she jumped into a surfing position. She kept her hands beside her waist, using all her mental and physical capacity to summon the last of her energy; this was an important technique learned and adapted from Ryu. Sakura's eyes flashed brightly, and she trembled as the flow of energy drove into her hands.

Tawnya twisted her body unnaturally, holding her ears tight, wanting to scream. There was a flashing light and howling screams, all terrorizing in her mind. She knew she couldn't escape his commands.

" _Fool. I was wrong to take your body as mine."_

She saw a faint face appear from her darkness, a demonic man looking at her. He was murmuring words that brought out a sadistic spray of energy in her.

" _Power is truth."_

Her mouth displayed an evil smile, and her hazel eyes were tinged red within her dilated pupils. This was a weak body with a dark desire to get what she wanted. The _he_ in her felt that. This would be the perfect way to transmit his message to the real fighters within the crowd.

" _Now I shall take over."_

Sakura ignored Tawnya's suddenly inhumane face. Her body shook with the concentration of blue electrical energy emitting from her hands. " _SHINKU-HADOOOOOOOOO-KEN!_ " she screamed, releasing the fireball towards Tawnya.

From his close view under the tree, Guy's eyes shone with a sudden realization. The power that escaped from Sakura's hands was the very same technique he had witnessed in Japan.

"It can't be her," he muttered, stunned. Then a sudden heat singed him.

"Guy, what are you doing?" Rena yelled, helplessly watching as Guy was swallowed by a mass of people. He pushed himself through the crowd toward the young Japanese girl, screaming, "What did you do?"

Tawnya's eyes gleamed as the fireball approached.

" _Never use an amateur to do a master's work."_

With a great and mysterious control, Tawnya one-handedly caught the blue ball. Upon her touch, the fireball instantly turned into hell red, crackling for two seconds before reversing it with one powerful thrust of an arm.

" _GOU-HADOU-KEN!_ " a merciless male voice escaped from Tawnya's mouth. Then she crashed to the ground.

The red burst of energy bounced heavily off Sakura. She released an antagonized scream. She fell onto Guy like a heavy log. Her body twitched from the electrical shock until finally she stopped moving. Guy gripped her shoulders, livid. Her palms were smoked, and her pupils were dilated.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?" Guy shook her, but Sakura couldn't respond. His eyes glistened as he held her body, unable to comprehend the action that took place seconds before. "WAKE UP!" he screamed, scared by her lack of reaction. "WAKE UP!"

*****

Chapter 17:

CONDITION

Guy was trying not to heave another sigh. His irritation was beginning to rouse Rena from her shallow sleep as she clutched onto his chest for support. But simply waiting in this stark hospital corridor frustrated him into anger. He was close to figuring out what happened in Japan and why he hadn't been able to fight the attacker that night. That sudden incompetence would continue to haunt him unless he had his answer.

He was desperate to get inside the room where the two women lay since their fight, but he couldn't leave Rena on her own. She was a nervous wreck since witnessing the battle, which made her even clingier than she had been before. But he had to try.

In an effort to escape, Guy placed a bundle of blankets onto the row of chairs, and carefully positioned her body so that she was lying flat. Rena opened her eyes slightly under the stark light, ready to protest, but under his slight touch, she fell back asleep.

Surveying the empty corridors, Guy tiptoed into the small patient room and quietly closed the door behind him. He took a deep breath. A flashback of the great fireball clouded his thought for a moment, then he turned to Sakura lying in her bed. Guy gasped.

Until now he hadn't noticed Ryu standing against the wall like a shadow. He must have not seen him go in. Ryu looked tired and dehydrated.

"I didn't realize you were in here," Guy whispered.

Ryu's expression remained unchanged. He made no acknowledgement of Guy.

"Are you okay? You looked a little pale at the park."

Ryu remained silent. He simply stared at the opposite wall, with a vacant forlorn look dragging the lines on his face.

The machines in the room bleeped sporadically. The flow of oxygen from Tawnya's mask was in constant rhythm. Guy stepped further into the room, anxious to take a closer look at Sakura. He knew he would see little because of the large bandage that completely covered her cheek.

The floor was splattered with dry mud prints. They were from Ryu, no doubt. His karate gi was spattered brown and his feet were completely muddy after running halfway across town in search of Sakura. Tawnya wasn't what one would call "normal" and Ryu had tried to reach Sakura before harm could be done, but he had been too late.

"Thanks," came Ryu's voice in Japanese, almost inaudible. Guy turned sharply toward him, puzzled by this greeting.

"Thanks for what?" he asked, responding with Ryu's soft tone.

"You were there for Sakura when I couldn't be," Ryu said, still staring at the opposite wall.

Guy looked again at Sakura. Now he remembered the tall Japanese girl that disrupted his breakup with Rena in the park. He also recalled talking to her at a tournament. She was far too young to enter, and he wasn't good enough to compete against Ryu.

"I don't understand," Guy said, perplexed, struggling for elucidation.

"You tried to protect Sakura from _her_ , when I didn't have the power to."

"I really didn't do anything," Guy protested.

"You raced to her aid before the demon trapped her.

"The demon?" Guy repeated, glancing over at Tawnya's bed with a sense of disjointedness. "Are you talking about the 'energy'?" he asked, hoping Ryu knew what he meant. "I think it's uncanny for someone so small to rouse such incredible power."

Ryu snapped a sharp look at him. _Finally, a reaction_ , Guy thought. Ryu's eyes were glinting as if he and Guy were thinking the same thing.

"Did you feel it too?" Ryu asked him, eyes widening with the same interest.

"Wouldn't any martial artist?"

Ryu pushed himself from the wall. His body hung loose for a few seconds before collapsing again. "If you felt it too, then it must be getting stronger."

"She's had this sort of power before?" Guy retorted in surprise, unable to keep his eyes off Sakura. The fireball she roused burned in his mind. "But she's just a girl."

"That was my previous judgment, until I saw what she was doing with my own eyes..." Ryu trailed off into silence.

The energy ball had a red core at the center, and the sparks were ruby. Only those who had studied the dark arts could summon such an attack. And to have unleashed such power on Sakura? It had taken Ryu years of hard rigid practice to summon those sparks to rouse from his palms. Gouken refused to teach his students to possess such techniques until they were old enough to understand their implications and consequences. Until the age of thirteen, Ryu had known nothing of fireballs, ki energies and aura powers. Even when Gouken decided to share the skills, he was extremely cautious and spoke continuously of the dangers.

Tawnya had handled the fireball without effort; her palm placement had been unnaturally and disconcertingly familiar. It was abnormal.

"A dreaded dark force of nature exists for nothing but to train, fight and destroy," Ryu recited quietly. "The walking instrument of death has no place in a world that is not constantly torn by war and discord."

Gouken had once explained to them the meaning of the Dark Hadou, and had expanded on the house cleaner's story about how Gouki became Akuma. Gouken had lost his brother to a beast, a demon with an insatiable desire for power. Was it absurd to think that Tawnya had any association to him?

"How long has she been like this?" Guy asked in reflection to Sakura, but Ryu didn't say anything. "RYU?" he snapped, in an effort to break him out of his trance, but then he stopped himself from saying anything in that tone. He had to be calm, and maintain a soft tone. He was close to finding out the truth.

"I don't know what I'm going to do if that dark energy gets stronger," Ryu mumbled. "I don't think I'll be able to control myself anymore." He hid his face in his hand. Guy could see the hand tremble.

"Sakura is my responsibility, mine. And look where she is now."

"How long has she been consumed by these powers, Ryu?"

"I'm not sure. Not long, or else I would have felt it sooner. It doesn't make a difference."

"It makes all the difference." Guy tried not to shout over this detail. "If she's capable of destroying one small village, then she's capable of destroying an entire civilization."

Guy kept his finger pointed at Sakura, breathing in a strained effort to retain his calm, but felt distraught by Ryu's simplification of the situation.

"You've seen her before?" Ryu asked, his eyes sparkling under the dim light of the room.

"Yes. In a rural town past the River Iga in Japan. It was my training village, and I watched someone destroy it with the very same fireball Sakura had summoned."

Guy watched Ryu grow pale, then saw him slip to the floor. He stepped closer toward him but Ryu kept his hand up to deter him.

He groaned, piecing Guy's part of the story to his own. The dreaded night when the Dark Hadou fired inside him, it all came back to that night. He had no control of himself, and now Sakura was being blamed for his animalistic show of power.

"It was my fault..." Ryu muttered, rubbing his hand over his face.

"You couldn't have stopped her."

"No, I couldn't stop myself."

"What are you talking about? Have you been chasing after her, Ryu?" Guy asked, drawing closer to Ryu as his interest grew. He could see Ryu tensing up. They were both sleep-deprived, and shaken from the revelation of the fight of the two women. But as martial artists, their minds raced for two very similar reasons.

"She's been chasing after me," Ryu confessed, trying hard to keep his mental image of Tawnya at bay. "For awhile now, she's been pursuing me, and this dark energy has followed with her."

Ryu felt a sickening sensation of fear and disgust. If Tawnya didn't have such an intense hold over him, Ryu knew he could have intercepted her fight with Sakura. He hadn't been fast enough, nor had he been strong enough. His arms shook and his breath quickened.

"The fight. That was my fault," Ryu clarified. "How could I have just stood back and watched?" he said with broken breaths. "I'm not much of a man, to let it happen."

He didn't feel like a man Gouken would be proud of. He felt choked.

"There was nothing you could have done," Guy tried to reassure him, but he didn't sound convincing. He looked around him awkwardly as Ryu shuffled back up in a strange manner.

"I didn't even have the will to run to her. Instead, I was defeated by the feeling of the dark energy altogether."

His eyes were now fixed on Tawnya. He felt Akuma close and he had to keep Tawnya secluded, in case the demon within her woke again.

"She's not who she makes herself out to be," Ryu said sharply. "I'm convinced she is someone else."

"That's insane."

"She has to be kept isolated, away from everyone," he said, his voice shaking as he walked to Sakura's bed. "I need to keep her safe. Away from any harm."

Realizing what Ryu was about to do, Guy grabbed his arm and pulled him back, but Ryu shrugged him off.

"Nothing is going to happen to them while we're here," Guy said encouragingly. "You need some rest. Maybe this whole thing has you delusional."

Ryu wasn't listening. He was taking the chance to properly look at Tawnya Blaze. She wasn't remotely like the woman in the newspaper. Beyond the lacerations, he sensed something profoundly unnerving about her.

He was haunted by Tawnya's last display at the fight. The wide-legged posture for balance, the arms drawn back, that dangerous look on her face. It was the demeanor of a demon. It was Akuma's signature stance.

Tawnya was just an actress. She couldn't have been learning the dark arts from a man who had no compassion or desire to pass on something so sacred, especially to a woman. The mere idea was preposterous.

"I can't ever believe that Akuma is back like this, through you," Ryu said, clenching his jaw. He was unable to look at her anymore.

Guy kept himself at the back end of the room, carefully watching. Ryu took Sakura's limp hand into his.

"I've missed you, Sakura," Ryu said, giving her fingers a tiny squeeze. His mouth twitched upon reflecting on her promise to him.

"I promise," Sakura had once said, her youthful face expressing a determination that only made her cuter, "to train and fight every day until I become just as good as you."

Ryu had thought it absurd that a young girl could commit to becoming like him. To imitate a man of experience and vow to be his pupil forever wasn't a normal dream for a teenage girl, but he knew it was a passing phase, of course. Sakura was now a woman - still very young compared to Ryu, living a successful life that no longer included him. He admired her courage and bold nature, and even felt proud of her accomplishment in her career.

Blood tingled under his skin, feeling light and alive with a clarity that was perfect. Ryu almost wanted to cry, finally sensing what it was like to feel proud of someone. He believed, so vehemently, that he had no family and nothing to be proud about, but all the while, though unconsciously, he had accepted Sakura as his daughter. She had filled a huge void when Ken and Gouken were absent, and it had taken him _this_ long to realize.

His shoulder heaved as he gripped Sakura's wilting hand. He was completely absorbed in emotion, except for the analytical part of his mind that wondered how she was pulled into all this.

"Ryu? Are you okay?" Guy said, seeing Ryu's lost expression.

"I'm so sorry I let you down already," Ryu continued softly, his voice muffled against the blanket.

He paused for a moment as he imagined Gouken and Ken with disappointed faces. Sakura had never experienced a real bloodthirsty fight, and he shouldn't have put her in that position. Unlike a father, he was unable to protect her. Gouken would have never forgiven him.

"Maybe we should step outside for a bit," Guy said. He tugged a bit at Ryu's shoulder, but he was ignored.

"I need you to watch Tawnya for me," Ryu ordered sternly, blinking his eyes to rid his tears.

"Sure," Guy hesitated.

"No, I mean, you need to watch over her once she's out of the hospital." Ryu's eyes were suddenly warm as he looked up at Guy. "It's the only chance I have to bond with Sakura again."

Guy thought about Ryu's proposition for a moment, knowing full well that Maki would instantly disagree with keeping a celebrity in the house. If the stories of Tawnya's schizophrenic nature were true, he didn't want to play nurse.

Guy sighed, astounded to have forgotten to call Maki about tonight's sudden change of plans. He had been unable to break his engagement with Rena, but at least he now knew who was partially responsible for the attack on Genryusai's village. Maki would understand.

"I'll do it," he responded softly. Bringing Tawnya back with him would be proof of his involvement. "On one condition."

"Name it," Ryu said.

"Tell me everything you know about the village attack in Japan."

*****

Chapter 18:

KOWLOON

No matter how sweat-resistant this shirt was supposed to be, Fei's back and armpits were soaked through by his own detestable moisture. The ringing of his cell phone, however, was keeping him distracted from the sweltering heat of this muggy evening. It wouldn't have taken him a second to decide to throw it as far away as possible.

Fei couldn't believe the trouble he was in. Rob's rumor was more real than he had imagined, and he was unable to escape the sinister strangers following him across the globe. Who knew that returning to Hong Kong would be such a big mistake? Kowloon was his home, the only place in the world where he could be himself without fame masking him. Now he was treated like a stranger who had smuggled in a disease. He hated that people feared him, hiding within shadows to avoid being seen by him. Fei was not a notorious Triad leader, and he had to fix this rumor before his carefully sculpted image was tarnished for life. He was nothing without the respect and admiration shown by his own people.

The city was crawling like a plague with Triad members, and nothing could have made him more uncomfortable. Fei ran through the narrow streets, clutching the phone tight, unable to keep his voice controlled. He looked around him, sure to find the Triad tracking his every move. He had to keep his eyes open.

"I don't care about you, or what it means, I just need it done...Are you stupid or something?" Failing to hide his anger, Fei's voice tremored. "What? Of course not. What do you think I...How dare you accuse...no listen, the fight had nothing to do with...how the hell do I know what she was think...Don't be so rid...okay okay, whatever."

He shut off the phone with a snap. With a foul swear in Cantonese, he pushed back the shades on his nose. He should have hired an assistant to deal with Tawnya's woes. Her fight with Sakura had made him notorious, even though it had nothing to do with him. Fei clutched at the black cap he had taken from a street hobo, scrunching his nose at the ghastly smell that wafted from it. At least the stench was strong enough to ward his few fans away. He couldn't allow himself any distractions, not this time. He had completed his end of the bargain. Now it was time for Rose to deliver her promise.

"Oi oi," yelled a young brazen voice ahead of him. A rookie Triad member.

"Oh great," Fei murmured. "More amateurs."

In his haste, he hadn't noticed a gang block his path; a collection of five Chinese men in their mid-twenties, who were sniggering at him. They all shared the same fake blonde lion mane, wore shirts that belonged on a catwalk, and fashionable skinny tight jeans that made their legs look spindly. Fei didn't try to understand the logic behind Rob's plan and his theory behind the rumor, but at least he was getting provided with some novice entertainment.

Unable to tolerate the smell, Fei ditched the cap to one side, then cracked his knuckles with a harsh click.

"Okay then," Fei sighed, wagging his finger at them. "Let's get this over and done with," he said, expecting this tussle to be over in a few seconds.

He watched the thugs sprint toward him in messy order. Fei remained in his position, waiting for them to encircle him, just like in the movies. _So predictable_ , Fei thought, bored.

As the leader jumped with an ugly scowl fixed on his face, Fei let loose a martial arts sidekick that spun him into the air. He knew the rest of them would follow suit, kicking and punching in turn.

"Wa-taaaaaaaaaaah!"

Fei didn't have to move a step forward. His kicks were long enough to keep them at bay, and his fist was still powerful enough to knock a man down with one move. Fighting was always exhilarating when it was real, but sending thugs to challenge him was just plain tedious. These men had no skills to share. This was a complete waste of time.

"Ha–chaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Another punch to the stomach, another man down. Fei laughed to himself, sending his third opponent all the way across the road. Years of acting out fight scenes enabled him to predict the moves of these Chinese thugs. He had choreographed all his action scenes on the sets, but he hadn't realized just how cheesy it all was until now. Perhaps this was Rob's clever ploy to innovate Fei's fight scenes, a helping hand to sharpen his skills so that it looked real on the big screen.

"Pathetic," Fei said, watching his opponents fumble on the ground in pain. "Tell Rob to hire real men next time," he said, walking away from them. Then he ran.

Trying to ignore the sweat that trickled down his neck, Fei's mind raced to a time when he had been hailed into Kowloon like a hero. He had inspired children to learn in school, encouraged the dissatisfied to reach for new goals, and sourced funds towards the reconstruction of dilapidated neighborhoods. Back then he would have done anything to please his family, the people who respected him as a person, not as a celebrity. He wanted that esteem back, even if it meant destroying Tawnya Blaze. He would do anything.

Fei stopped short around the corner, upon seeing the Red Lady waiting for him. Her leg was propped against the wall where she leaned, and the silky sheen of her tights was brighter than the streetlight itself. The yellow scarf draped over her head in one loop, leaving trails of brown hair to peek through the side.

"You're late," Rose said, without looking up at him. Her voice was sharp with no sluggishness, in spite of the Chinese humidity. Her eyes remained closed, her face serious.

Fei walked closer to her. He rubbed at his damp hair frantically, but his movements only annoyed her.

"Progress report."

"It's done," Fei simply said, holding himself loose as he groveled on the spot.

"Done?"

"Yes, done," he said stridently. He averted his eyes downward, hovering his hand over his mouth to take in his own smell.

"I'm feeling like shit about the charade we played on her," he muttered, feeling himself open up to Rose. "Tawnya's convinced that you're in her head, a figment of her imagination that only she can see."

Rose opened her eyes. She saw Fei looking somewhat nervous and languid. He didn't have the swaggering presence she expected from an international superstar.

"You wanted me to form a relationship with her. It's done! You wanted help to make Tawnya go crazy...she's crazy," he said, looking straight into her piercing eyes. "So why is Tawnya fighting little girls, and why the hell is this place still littered with the Triad? We had a deal, Red Lady."

"It is not over yet," Rose said, her voice strong. Her lips were a dark hue of burgundy today. Shimmering.

Fei sputtered, revealing to her the card with the embossed red rose that she had once given him. He twirled the card through his fingers, and then ripped it into shreds.

"I said I'll do one thing for you," he yelled, no longer able to keep calm. His eyes flashed dangerously at her. He was being double-crossed. "You needed someone to manipulate, so I found Tawnya Blaze. I paid her out of my own pocket to mold her into this sick little plan of yours. In return, you promised the Triad gang would be removed from Kowloon, and my fabricated ties to them would be cut and forgotten. That was the deal, lady!"

At the sight of his closed fist, Rose didn't flinch.

"It wasn't my damn idea for Rob to pump money into the Triad," Fei continued hurriedly. "Just 'cause I work for him, doesn't mean I know what the hell he's up to. How is it even fair that I get blamed for that idiot blowing all his money on a bet? Now I have you telling me that this job isn't over..." Fei blew air from his mouth, looking around him, lost.

"I need the Triads off my ass," he continued, finding the strength to look at her. She stared back, unaffected. "I am not their ring leader, damn it."

"We both know you would do anything to retain your identity," Rose said with chilling calm. As she spoke, the slightest hint of a cold smile appeared. "The rumor will be stopped."

"And the Triad?"

"That will be taken care of if you can bring Tawnya Blaze and Ryu Hoshi together."

Fei spluttered. "No, wait a second," he cut in angrily. "The article is as far as I will go." He pricked his head up at a sudden memory. "The cut on her arm...did you do that to her?" he said, his face contorted with disgust.

"Belief is in the heart," Rose smiled, still poised in the same position that Fei had found her in. "Get them together. Prepare her for the most important meeting of her life. Lose sight of her and you lose everything. Guide her and you will gain all."

Fei stumbled a few paces back. The sound of her voice felt like a push to the chest, but before he could ask what she meant, the lady spoke again. "This is your final mission."

Fei shook his head, tormented by that idea. "I can't do it."

"You have no choice."

He felt his stomach knot sickeningly. She was blackmailing him. He looked at her, wanting so badly to knock the smile off her face, but he knew that wouldn't have resolved anything.

"I've damaged her enough," he said sadly. He rubbed his face again, trying to smooth out the wrinkles of his frown. "I don't want to lead her into trouble. This is the last thing I ever wanted."

"Disobey and you will never be able to return to Kowloon again."

"Fine," Fei whispered, keeping his head low in his own shame. "Tell me. What's the next move?"

A card with a rose appeared in front of his eyes, willing him to take it and observe the details behind it. The fine lines of the thorns made up the words "Ken Masters and The Ivy". Fei gulped upon seeing that familiar name, but he had to prioritize his own needs first by removing the threat of the Triad from his own people.

"Let this card be your guide," Rose instructed. "Lead Tawnya to Ryu and cut your connection from her in your usual televised performance. Once this is complete, return to Hong Kong without ado. If the job is fulfilled to satisfaction, Kowloon will be yours again."

*****

Chapter 19:

BEYOND THE FIST

It wasn't the most difficult command, to tap buttons rapidly, but Ryu struggled to control anything with his fingers. Under Sakura's relentless teasing, he tapped as many buttons as he could, glancing at times at his opponent, who was playing the game with such ease.

The life-meter on the screen drained to a harrowingly low level.

"No, I've already told you," Sakura squealed at top volume. "You have to press the square button, not the triangle. Toggle forward, down, then back while hitting the square. See?" she explained, executing another impressive technique.

She spoke a little too fast for him to follow, and his character was now in the danger zone.

Ryu was astounded that he had even offered to play video games with her. He couldn't help but feel obliged to have learnt a few parenting skills from Ken and Eliza. He had observed how they handled Mel and Sean under challenging circumstances. Ken, in Ryu's eyes, was a perfect role model, and he vowed he would do his best by Sakura, even at her young-adult age.

"I didn't understand a word you just said there," he admitted, then surrendered. His character was already knocked out.

But Ryu was relieved to see Sakura smiling again, even if the adrenalin-rush of playing video games would eventually subside.

"I win again, loser," she laughed, feeling pleased that she was able to converse in Japanese. "So this is what it's like to be you, huh?"

"What do you mean?" Ryu shot back, perplexed, turning to look at Sakura, who was propped up on the couch behind him. He felt her good leg jostle against his back, but he ignored it.

"Well, you train hard, then fight and win. Doesn't take a genius to figure out what your winning streak is, if what you do all day is train to get stronger." She heard Ryu sigh. "Well, I think so, anyway."

"It's not winning that counts, Sakura."

"I know, I know," she cut in. "It's what you do in the fight that makes you a real winner. I was just saying."

"So long as it's clear. Striving to win teaches you very little. Anyone can win using the right tools. How to use those tools takes more skill."

"Yeah, I guess." Sakura shrugged. "Like, if I really wanted to win, I could throw my shoes...or use a metal chair like they do in wrestling. I'm still fighting but without skill, right?"

"Exactly," Ryu nodded. "Using everything you know doesn't make you a good fighter."

"What if you're starting out?"

"That can be allowed for the first match, but using repetitive combos and techniques in the second, third or fourth fight is unforgivable."

"But that's exactly what you were doing in the video game," Sakura giggled.

"Then I'm clearly not a good fighter," Ryu smiled back.

Sakura looked at Ryu adoringly, feeling overjoyed that he took time out from training to look after her. In her current physical condition, she was unable to do much. She whined continuously about the pain caused by the strained hamstring, but Ryu overlooked her injuries with a sympathetic smile. She openly showed him her lacerations, and even felt proud to be sporting real bruises. She used to create fake ones with the pastels stolen from school. Such antics had done little to persuade Ryu to take her on as his official student, but none of that mattered anymore. Now Ryu was here, in her tiny American apartment, and he was here of his own accord.

Sakura gleamed, admiring the back of Ryu's head while he tried to play another match by himself. The man she had been wishing for was back in her life again, even if they were stuck indoors just pretending to fight in a game. She couldn't have asked for a better carer.

Sakura laughed at a sudden thought.

"What is it?" Ryu asked distractedly.

"I was just thinking," she continued to laugh, "how funny it is that you know how to perform all these moves in real life, but you can't even do it on the screen." She laughed even harder. "Shame my apartment is so tiny."

"Why? You have a suggestion to improve my playing skills?"

"No," she blurted, stunned with how serious Ryu was. "I was thinking how awesome it would be for you to imitate some of those moves...considering we can't train," she finished off quietly. "I think that'd be really swell."

"Maybe," he said coolly.

"It'd be like old times."

"How?"

"You'd be training and I'd be learning by watching you."

Ryu humphed, disagreeing.

"Don't you think I've done a good job on my own?" she said, crossing her arms on her chest. Ryu felt her tense up. In response, he dropped the control pad on his lap.

"You've come a long way," he said.

"But?"

"But, the way you are learning is dangerous."

"Dangerous? How?" Sakura yelled, over the sudden outburst of drumming from the neighbor's apartment.

"Training to fight isn't like riding a bicycle. You are preparing your body to become a weapon. You can seriously hurt yourself if your technique is incorrect."

Sakura fell silent. The first time she had tried to fight someone had led her into trouble. She was sure she had learned to kick properly, mimicking moves from martial arts films, but in reality, she was barely able to keep her balance, let alone hurt her opponent.

"Well, I think I've been doing pretty good on my own," she said in a small voice, knowing that Ryu was right. "Why d'ya think I left Dan Hibiki?"

"Ahh, Dan," Ryu nodded, vividly remembering the flashy Hong Kong-raised martial artist who claimed to have the best fighting style.

"Yeah, the dude in pink. He was a terrible teacher who screamed like a girl every time he punched," Sakura sighed with disapproval. "I may be a novice, Ryu Sensei, but I recognize a fake when I see one."

"Everyone is entitled to their own style. That's an important lesson I learned from Ken."

"Are you sticking up for Dan Hibiki?" she shrieked, her nose crinkled with astonishment.

"What I'm trying to say," he responded calmly, "is that a world with variety is one reason why I train so hard."

He scratched the hair behind his headband as he tried to explain why fighting meant so much to him.

"If I fought the same people with the same style of martial arts every time, there would be nothing new for me to learn," he said with the same tone of seriousness. "Even if we were physically built the same, their fighting style would reveal to me their personality and intention. Aggression is a terrible human trait and we must strive to evolve the arts without inciting violence. Martial arts isn't about how powerful you are or about winning a fight, it is about self-discipline and self-improvement. That is why my style is continually evolving."

"Okay," Sakura pondered, rearranging herself on the auburn sofa, "so if I was to watch you fight someone right now, I'd notice a difference in your fighting style?" She was completely engrossed in the subject.

Ryu stood up from the carpet, startling Sakura with his suddenness. Her excitement soon increased, however, as she watched him settle into his basic fighting stance. There was barely enough room between the sofa and chest of drawers where the TV rested, but Ryu looked like a pro, even though he was wearing Ken's old gray sweatshirt, which fit him perfectly.

"When I was younger," he began, looking at Sakura as he sidestepped, "my techniques were too rigid to the point where my opponent was able to predict my next move."

He punched forward, followed by a straight toe-kick.

"From my very first fight, I had to learn to flex the techniques taught to me so that I was able to move fluidly without repeating the katas which I used in training."

He ducked then snapped a straight low punch. Sakura's eyes shone as she watched Ryu perform basic maneuvres.

"The ability to move fluidly without trading off power is a skill that took time for me to adapt."

He crossed his fist quickly over his chest. With every small step he took, a sharp draft hit her.

"It's easy to punch but harder to strike with accuracy. I was neither fluid, strong, nor accurate. Never at the same time. I lacked imagination. I was unable to see what was beyond my fist, the real potential I lacked in training. But my first match with Sagat taught me to be perceptive."

"Wow," Sakura said in amazement, admiring his physique and integrity. "I never thought of that before. I guess the only thing I really cared about was winning and proving myself as a fighter."

"Through winning?"

"Well, yeah," she said as if the answer was obvious. "What's the point of looking like you can fight if you can't win?

Judging by his expression, Ryu was unimpressed.

Sakura hummed to herself, then tried again. "I know you said you can rarely learn if you keep winning, but doesn't it make you feel bad if you keep losing, like how you kept losing to me at the fighting game?"

"Practice makes perfect, Sakura."

Sakura sighed. "Oh, Ryu Sensei, you are too honorable."

Ryu stopped short. "Stop calling me that."

"Okay," Sakura agreed, "but I'm only calling you 'sensei' so you can get used to it. I may not be able to use my legs yet," she said, pointing at the bandaged leg, "but I'm already learning heaps from you. You're going to train me again, right, Ryu Sensei?" she said in a small voice.

To her disappointment, Ryu stared at the TV screen where the game was self-playing.

"I could have done better, you know," she continued glumly, scratching at a spaghetti stain on the armrest. "If I had trained like I used to, maybe I wouldn't have ended up in the hospital. I hate hospitals. It's for losers."

"You're not a loser, Sakura," Ryu persisted, stiffening up from her apparent sadness. He walked up to the window, blocking any light that came into the room.

"Well, I will be if you leave me again."

Without being her teacher, she knew Ryu was bound to leave her once she had recovered. The thought suddenly made her feel lost. She not only needed him, but she depended on him for guidance.

"I'll be damned if I returned to that dead-end job, doesn't matter if it's here or in Japan."

The fervent fighter in her was desperate to come out, but she didn't want to fight without Ryu by her side. She stared at him with hopelessness, in a despairing search for answers. Why had she been so badly injured by Tawnya Blaze, of all people? The fight couldn't have lasted more than a few minutes. All she remembered was rain splattering hard against her aching body, and falling unconscious after seeing a huge flash. She had no recollection of how it all began, or why.

"I thought, you know, since you're back," she mumbled half-embarrassed, "maybe we could continue where we left off. I don't need my parents' permission anymore. I'm totally independent."

Ryu didn't know what to say. As much as he wanted to protect Sakura, he didn't believe training her was the way forward. She was still young, impressionable and over-enthusiastic. He was sure that if he told her about the Dark Hadou, Sakura would become curious to learn more about it. Protection, he reminded himself, must be at the forefront of his mind. Training while trapped by this dark energy would be irresponsible.

"She isn't even a martial artist," Sakura muttered sourly, looking down at her injured leg. "I should have beat her, hands down. Blindfolded even. She was tougher than I thought..."

As a teenager, equipped with the knowledge of movie fighting, Sakura had been able to beat up a few kids bigger than she was. Even though she had never entered martial arts grading, she had still managed to participate in tournaments, if somewhat illegally.

In the back of her mind she knew that when it came to being his official student, Ryu would blow her off again. This time, however, she had no idea why.

"I thought I was doing well," she went on moodily, "I mean, I actually pulled out a _Hadou-ken_ , and I've never fought in a rain storm before. It was pretty cool, come to think of it."

"Sakura," Ryu stopped her before he was torn by guilt. "You're doing better than I could have ever imagined, but..."

"Oh no," she groaned, then waited for his response.

"But," he continued, unable to look at her. "I'm not ready to teach."

"NO WAY!" she yelled, pointing her fingers accusingly at him. "You fed me that same line when I was sixteen. I'm twenty three now, and you're still not ready?"

Ryu pursed his lips, stopping himself from revealing some damaging information.

"I heard you at the hospital, you know," she revealed with a sly grin.

"What are you talking about?"

"Nope," she said defiantly, grabbing the joystick back into her lap. The TV came to life again with loud crashing sounds and boisterous yells.

"Sakura? What are you not telling me?" Ryu anxiously demanded, but in return she exaggeratedly pursed her lips. "This is as far as your training will go," he said, pointing at the control pad before settling himself back on the carpet.

"Fine," she blurted back, "but you promised you will protect me, even if it meant teaching me martial arts from scratch."

*****

Chapter 20:

DREAMS

"Kusou!" Maki cursed, irritated that yet again, her kendo sticks broke against the rubber training dummy. She wanted to yell at Guy for buying her this crap. Varnish-finished bamboo would have been better for practice than this cheap recycled wood.

"Damn you, Guy," she snarled, throwing the snapped wood at him in frustration. "Would it kill you to get me something nice once in awhile?"

Maki held herself still in front of the rubber dummy that stared apathetically back at her.

"What the hell are you looking at?" she yelled, slapping it hard on the chest.

She picked up her tonfa, gripping it by the short perpendicular handle, and guarded her face with her forearm, before swapping kicks at the dummy. She preferred not to use the batons to train, but Guy left her with little choice. The piles of broken sticks were scattered around the garden. Hopefully now, he wouldn't take short cuts with purchases for her.

Guy remained standing at the side of the lawn. He was deep in thought. He was unable to forget what Ryu had told him. If a man as pure as Ryu could be corrupted by such indestructible power, Guy didn't want to train at all. He quivered at the thought of what Ryu was living with, this Dark Hadou that made him destroy against his own will. It went against everything he believed in.

"Okay, big guy," Maki wailed loudly as she wiped her brow clear of sweat. "What happened to spending some time with me?"

Guy's stoical eyes were on the ground. He clearly wasn't listening.

"HEY!" Maki yelled, throwing a stick at him. It startled him from his trance.

"Huh, whaaa," Guy broke out in shock.

"It's guys like you that make me wanna fight alla time. Jeez, what the hell is wrong with you? I would have thought you'd be ecstatic with Rena gone for a few days."

She walked up to him with a sympathetic smile, pressing her body up against his. Guy tensed, not in the mood to do anything but liberate himself from his thoughts.

"We can do another kind of training, if you know what I mean," Maki said softly against his ears.

She wanted to say more, but she was distracted by the persistent sounds of drilling and construction from the neighbor's house. Guy sighed at this welcome disturbance, anything to shut his mind down.

With a glance in her direction, he saw Maki's face scrunch up. Sticky with sweat, her blonde fringe stuck to the corners of her face. She still wore Guy's shirt from the morning, with the buttons half-undone. Her legs were bare except her sneakers. With an urgency that surprised him, Maki ran her tongue across his lips.

"Whoa, what're you doing?" Guy couldn't help asking, as he felt her hands all over him. Maki simply winked in response.

"I got bored," she said quickly, shrugging her shoulders.

"I like the way your mind works," he smiled, opening his eyes to the hazy sky. He loved Maki's rebellious nature. If he needed a doting housewife to bore him, Rena was perfect. "No wonder I love you more."

Maki stopped what she was doing for a second, causing Guy to look down at her.

"You love me _more_?" she said softly. Guy shuffled, smoothing her hair away from her eyes, but was startled to see her angry.

"Yes," he stuttered.

"But you love my sister too, right?"

Guy bit his lip. This was the last conversation he wanted.

"Oi, don't ignore me," Maki sneered, smacking his chest. His silence was only prolonged.

"I swear to God, Guy. I want one day with you where I don't have to hear her goddamn name. Rena this and Rena that."

Guy sighed, now feeling wide-awake and disappointed by her quick change of mood. He reached over to grab Maki's arm, but she retreated with a harsh shove.

"I just told you I love you," he tried to explain. "What's wrong with that?"

"You idiot," she spat, picking up a few broken sticks from the grass and throwing a piece at him.

"Honey, please--"

"Aww, I'm your honey," Maki sarcastically cooed, then she growled. Guy ducked to avoid a flurry of sticks hurled at him. "I bet she's your 'sweetheart'," she yelled, throwing more. "Thanks for these, by the way," she said, waving the broken pieces in the air. "I see a good use for them now."

"Maki, c'mon," he writhed, running after her on the lawn, dashing by the training dummy that stood idly in the middle.

He caught her arm with a lunge, then she pushed him back. He had forgotten how strong she was when she was angry. By the tautness of her face, he knew she wanted to fight.

"We don't have the space to spar here," Guy said nervously, watching Maki tighten her body in her stance.

"Who said anything about a spar?" she said, before clenching her teeth into a growl. "I work better when I have a real ass to kick."

She advanced with a straight high kick. Guy caught it then felt Maki's other leg catch him in the face. They fell to the ground with a harsh thump.

"Damn, you're serious," Guy bawled, flinching at the dull ache he felt below his jaw.

"Get up, you asshole," Maki ordered, lurching back up to kick him again.

Guy obeyed, stumbling back a few tiny steps as he penetrated Maki's hits with his forearm until he hit the shed. Quickly, he ducked under her arm, and surprised her with a short spin kick. He smirked. He loved fighting with Maki. It was almost as good as sex.

Maki cursed, glaring angrily at the training dummy that had got in her way. From the corner of her eye, she could see the tonfa glinting invitingly at her. It was all too tempting to use her favorite weapon to knock her lover semi-unconscious, but she didn't really want to hurt him.

Maki spun and threw a hard punch. Guy slipped by fast behind her, trapping her arm in a joint lock, and in one swift movement, hooked her leg with his. He gripped her shoulder tight so that she was no longer able to move. She butted him with the back of her head, but he held onto her tighter.

"I win," she smiled, hearing Guy groan.

"Only because you look so good," he said, releasing her. "My shirt looks good on you," he leered, drawing his hand to her nape. Maki moaned, irritated that she was enjoying the kisses he planted all over her, as usual.

She turned and smiled at him as normally as she could.

"Where have I heard that before?" she murmured, looking away from him. She remembered Guy saying the same thing to Rena when he was in the mood to fool around with her.

Sometimes, Maki felt like she was the playing the fool. How could she know whether Guy really loved her? Perhaps he was saying the exact same things to Rena, and loved her just the same way. The thought of the two of them together brought uncomfortable shivers. She hated her sister so much.

"Feel my heart thump," Guy requested, placing her hand on his firm chest. "This is what you make me feel," he smiled at her.

She tried not to frown. Rena kissed those same lips, fervently, passionately.

"You're so cheesy sometimes," she laughed, but mournfully. He was here without Rena and was hers for the moment. She had imagined it this way.

"We can make it work, Maki. I'll make Genryusai understand what we have. It's not like I've strayed from the family," he laughed sheepishly, then stopped. He knew that the complexity of their relationship was hardly a laughing matter. "The next time I see Rena, I promise, I'll tell her everything."

Maki's smile dropped. "Now you're asking for it," she said, lifting her fist to his face.

"Hey, I tried," he said defensively. "The celebrity indoors is proof that my confession to Rena was disrupted by something beyond my control. She even told you herself."

Maki shrugged, then kicked him hard in his stomach with a growl.

*****

The abrasive female yell kept making Tawnya flinch. Upon waking from the nightmare, her nerves were more on edge than ever. For a minute, she held herself stiff, concentrating on catching the voices of the couple, but the constant mechanical drilling next door made it impossible to hear anything clearly.

Tawnya blinked her eyes and moaned. Her face felt enflamed, and the worst feeling was in her stomach, but she could feel nothing below her waist. Uncomfortably, she dropped her leg onto the chair in front of her, wishing she could get out of this strange house. Tawnya frowned. The martial arts oil painting made her feel uneasy. It served as a horrible reminder of how she had started the fight, despite her conscious efforts to stop. The bookshelf was stacked with ancient ninjitsu encyclopedias, with one or two odd additions on Japanese values and weddings. Everything about this place troubled her. Even the photographs on the coffee table captured snapshots of two men fighting, a Japanese man in red and a blonde American in jeans and a white t-shirt.

Gingerly, Tawnya placed a hand on her stomach, sensing the bruises on the entire right hip.

" _I dare you,"_ she heard _him_ whisper in her ears. Her eyes then widened in shock. Tawnya choked on her own breath, feeling her throat strangled by his command.

"Dare to do what?" she wheezed, glancing ever so slightly over her shoulder, hoping that someone real was talking to her.

Except for the droning voices from the TV in the corner, the room was vacant of people.

"Is someone there?" she asked, just in case the voice was coming from another room. She was only answered by silence.

Tawnya's gaze shifted around the room, from the TV to the entrance of the kitchen where Maki and Guy could be seen fighting through the window.

" _Get up and walk."_

Tawnya shivered. His looming voice was enough to frighten her half to death. She clutched hard at her chest, feeling her heart race suddenly. The room was still empty. She felt too afraid to believe that this was just an illusion, that she was just going crazy.

" _I said WALK."_

The will to agree to this menacing command was overpowering, but she tried hard to resist.

" _Complete your mission."_

Tawnya felt the urge to walk, walk as far away from this house as possible, in order to reach Sakura. She suddenly knew that Ryu would be with her, and she was supposed to bring _him_ to Ryu.

"I can't do it," Tawnya whimpered in protest, holding the side of her stomach with both hands now.

Her leg felt as if iron bounded by an invisible wire. When she tried to lift her leg, the pain shot through her. Keeping still was required, but his instructions kept repeating. She wanted to yell, scream, anything, but her mouth felt glued shut.

" _You do not think. You are nothing. Do as you are told and you will live,"_ he said, with an unexpected kindness in his tone.

Tawnya nodded and found the will to stand, ignoring the shudders of her aching muscles. Her eyes were blank, drawn to the invisible power of his commanding voice. Her mouth was open as she shakily stepped forward. She blinked her eyes, wanting not to see the red patterns on the wall, but the more she blinked the more red the room turned.

" _Pain is all in the mind. Overcome and conquer."_

Tawnya took another step forward. Her leg was as rigid as if no suppleness had ever existed. The more he spoke, the more her head filled with an intensity of heat. Tawnya squeezed her eyes and clenched her teeth. Her body was rigid with fear. She saw images of herself enticing Ryu, using her nails to carve his name into his own skin, all in an effort to awaken his inner demon. Ryu was trying to resist, but he wasn't strong enough.

Her head was heavy with a pain that made her see hazy grey swirls. Something brushed against her arm, and she opened her eyes wide, startled. A yellow scarf clutched at her arm tightly.

"You fool. Do you think you will get far?"

Panic-stricken, Tawnya tried to shake it off, but the material bound itself to her. The scar of Ryu's name shone brightly, as if it had been re-cut. The lines of his name had a sharp pink outline.

" _Bring him to me,"_ the male continued to yell.

"Sit back down, and be a good little girl."

Tawnya was stunned and unable to move. The second voice belonged to a woman, different from Maki's voice yelling outside. The buzzing in her head grew more frantic.

" _You are a mere tool."_

"You are stronger than this."

" _Walk."_

Tawnya grabbed her head and smacked it hard with her wrist, in a vain attempt to silence these thoughts. The scarf around her arm released abruptly. Feeling unsteady on her feet, she collapsed forward, heavily pounding her nose. Blood trickled from it. Tawnya spluttered out a gurgling cough, feeling her body drained of any energy. The hazy swirls around the room lingered, soon merging to form a face - a man, whose demonic eyes looked down at her. Tawnya scratched out at his face, but he didn't shift an inch. She growled, frustrated and frightened by the harshness etched in his features, but her efforts were futile. She slapped herself hard, and the man laughed.

"I see you are still fighting with yourself."

"Where's that voice coming from?" Tawnya barked, feeling dizzied and light-headed.

"Your mission will destroy you."

Rose stood in the middle of Guy's living room, her feet near Tawnya's head. Her shoes were beautiful, a decorative exclusive set which displayed well against the soft white rug. Tawnya didn't have the energy to look up. Instead, she tried to swallow to build up a decent scream, but the voices around her terrified her to the point of incapacity.

Rose stared with her sharp green eyes, then clicked her fingers. Tawnya opened her eyes, confused by a sudden clarity. The buzzing in her head vanished, and her body stopped aching. Her vision was no longer cloudy, and the silence eased the turmoil in her chest.

"You did something," Tawnya said, aware of the bloodied white carpet that was stained from her dripping nose. She choked, and once again found it difficult to breathe.

"I am not a magician. I am not a witch," Rose laughed, mocking her. "I cannot help you the way you want me to."

Her laughter was almost contagious. Tawnya laughed too, her chest heaving up and down in submission.

"Steer clear of him, and _he_ will stay away from you. Submit to the will of the darkness and you will never regain control of your own destiny."

With a graceful twist to the wrist, Rose released a small tarot card, which spiraled through the air and landed near Tawnya's anguished face. She stayed still, staring at the woman leaning down to her.

Rose gazed with intensity into Tawnya's pale orange aura.

"Indecisiveness...I see," she said too assertively.

There was a peculiar silence, and Tawnya realized she was alone again.

"...don't go," she mumbled, with a sudden pang of agonizing loneliness. The blood from her nose dripped uncontrollably, making her retch.

"DON'T LEAVE ME!" she screamed, grabbing at the carpet.

"TAWNYA...!" Upon hearing her scream, Guy had run into the room. He was stunned to catch her so close to the front door. He struggled to lift her from the floor and place her back onto the sofa.

Tawnya didn't seem to respond to the aches and pains that revived in her body. Even the blood didn't bother her. She shivered uncontrollably.

"Are you okay? Where're you hurting?" Guy asked gently, trying to keep her head upright.

"Fei...Fei," Tawnya muttered, seeing a blurry vision of Guy's face. "I need to tell you something, Fei," she continued.

Guy looked shrugging at Maki, who kept herself at a safe distance. She clutched at a box of tissues, unbothered that she was still half-naked.

"Tawnya, I'm not Fei," Guy hushed, glancing with worry at Maki. Tawnya seemed to have no idea what she was doing She seemed oblivious to Maki and Guy. Her strange, dissociative behavior was similar to that of Ryu's in the park.

"I'm Guy, a friend of Ryu's."

Tawnya's eyes flicked wide open, startled to hear that familiar name. Her behavior was compellingly strange. Guy had never seen the harsh melancholy hit Ryu in the face, and now Tawnya wore the same look of despair.

"I don't like her being here," Maki whispered into his ear, her voice stern with discomfort.

"Neither do I," he whispered back, holding Tawnya at arm's length.

"Fei," Tawnya said again. "I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy."

*****

Chapter 21:

PLANS

"Sakura? Oh please, you are not serious, are you? Oh my God, don't go in there."

Kei whined with a long face in protest to the plan. Her legs were aching from running after Sakura, and her throat had seized up from yelling so much.

"I don't want to do this, Sakura. It's so stupid," Kei tried again.

"No, it's not stupid," Sakura snapped. "This is gonna be first class entertainment, trust me. It'll be fun to teach him a lesson for a change. We gotta show him what a real sensei should be like."

"But we have real senseis back at school. C'mon, let's go back before we get expeled for good!"

Sakura laughed sarcastically and pushed the door open. Kei moaned, unable to believe that she was skipping school purely out of peer pressure. Her protests to slow Sakura down never worked. "Umm, you wanna at least wait up for me?" she groaned, rubbing her chin irritably as she approached the dojo.

From the outside, the training hall looked like a fancy store. Kei shielded her eyes from the bright neon lights that temporarily blinded her. _Saikyo Dojo,_ it read in pink luminous letters, with a caricature of the teacher as its logo. Made uncomfortable by the prank, Kei's knees trembled. She was never enthused by Sakura's scheming ideas, no matter how good she made things sound. Instead, she felt like a sheep being led to a wolf's den.

"What you playing at?" Sakura yelled, with her head poking out of the door, startling Kei. "Get inside before you ruin everything," she said, yanking Kei into the room.

The hall was a decent size with a Zen quality to it. The walls were painted a soft peach, and lush plants were lined between wooden benches. _It sure didn't smell as if anyone had practiced in here,_ Sakura thought. On the contrary, the odor of paint was quite pungent. They gazed around the dojo, looking at framed photographs that displayed cheesy pictures of the instructor. He was shaking hands with successful competitors and Asian celebrities.

"Just remember what we've talked about and you'll be fine," Sakura grinned, pulling up her socks securely up over her knees. With a tug, she tightened the thick white headband around her forehead, and ruffled her hair over it.

Kei stuck her tongue out behind Sakura's back before following after her. She couldn't help but feel nervous. She quickly removed her jacket and split her long hair into two ponytails. She at least had to look like a would-be martial arts student, even if they were in their traditional school uniforms.

"I know," Kei answered, half reassured. "It's all a play fight. Just don't push me too hard, okay?" She looked around, ignoring Sakura as she performed a routine of stretches. "This place looks like some sort of modern art museum. It's pretty cool actually."

"Cool?" Sakura spat, disgusted, her head dangling in between her legs. "You clearly haven't been to a real dojo. This is an embarrassment, trust me."

She shook her head in dismay, stretching her arm overhead while Kei jittered in the corner with a look of boredom. Watching Sakura run at her, her expression soon changed.

"What the heck..." she squealed, her body bending forward with Sakura's weight entirely on her back. Instinctively, her arms tightened around Sakura's spindly legs, and struggled to keep herself upright. "Sak, you're starting to strangle...ugh...me."

The two struggled to gain control over their own actions, their voices getting louder and louder until the sound of a shrieking whistle silenced them. Upon seeing the leer of a man dressed head to toe in pink, Kei dropped Sakura to the hard floor with a thump.

"I like it. You both seem enthusiastic," Dan beamed, dipping his head low upon seeing Sakura. He gasped in disbelief that an ex-pupil had returned.

"Oh, glorious Sensei," Sakura said, her face filled with an exaggerated smile. "I brought a friend who is itching to learn your inspirational style."

Kei glimpsed at Sakura from the corner of her eye. Unlike the overstated grin Dan wore, her trembling smile was suppressed. With his mismatched pink gi and his pink baseball cap, Dan looked like a cross between a baseball coach and a ballet instructor. It was a pathetic sight.

"Hibiki Sensei," Sakura grimaced, "I tried my best to teach her your fighting methods, just as you've taught me. But I'm no teacher, so I thought it was best to bring her straight to you so she could learn the correct techniques. Saikyo style."

Sakura punched the air for good measure.

"I'm Kei Chitose," she said, bowing low to the ground. "If you may, Sensei, I would like to start my training immediately."

Inspecting Kei with his eyes, Dan frowned slightly. She was scrawny and pale, and looked incapable of doing any arduous tasks. Sakura, on the other hand, looked much stronger. Her legs were meatier and her knuckles were bronzed.

"I don't know," he pondered, circling them with doubt. "People say Saikyo is a style, but I say Saikyo is a lifestyle with style. I see little of that lifestyle with style in you, little girl."

He bent low so he was at eye-level with Kei. Uncomfortable with his sudden closeness, she took a step back. She gulped.

"Oh, she has heaps of style," Sakura bellowed, putting an arm around Kei's shoulder until she was in a loose headlock. "I'm not friends with just anyone, you know."

"Thanks a lot," Kei grunted, trying to wriggle out of the grip. "But I really am up for this whole lifestyle change," she addressed to Dan.

He smiled, nodding. "You're staying too, right?"

Sakura smiled slightly at Dan's question. His eyes widened at her nodded response.

"Yuri yahoo!" he yelled, jumping into the air, delighted.

Kei held her mouth from laughing. Sakura's previous imitation of him had been so accurate and funny, but it was even more hilarious to watch it done for real.

"Well sure," Dan blurted, smoothing out his long ponytail. "I won't bother with the fees and formalities yet. First, I would like to introduce a short sequence of punches. Let's see how far you get with that."

"Goody!" Sakura exclaimed, clapping her hands. Kei frowned.

"So, we shall begin by punching like this."

The girls stood in a line as they watched Dan execute a punch. "Watch this," Sakura whispered with an exaggerated wink.

Dan rested his fists against his waist and flicked his right arm, then repeated the same routine with his left. The girls giggled as Dan screeched "kiah" as if he was giving birth. His face contorted with each yell, and his eyebrows furrowed in a high arch.

"See how I use my hips to push forward the energy. My raised voice allows me to execute the technique to a heightened level of brute strength. The thrust to the hips and the outlet from the throat is a 'force to the blow'. A deadly combination."

"This was worth skipping school for," Sakura said to Kei, amused. It was almost too painful to keep herself from laughing.

"Energy comes from inside," he continued, pounding his chest. "Keeping that burning energy inside is not good for the heart. As I've said to you, Saikyo is a lifestyle. Now you try."

Kei and Sakura copied him, but their postures were slack. Their backs were bent slightly forward, and they were punching the air with no strength. But Dan was pleased that Sakura had the courage to yell "kiah" in the same fashion as he did.

"Forward punch, retreat. Forward punch, get back. Punch, two, three, four, retreat. Thrust to the hips, fire out the mouth," he instructed, pacing around them.

"I would like this opportunity to show you what we have been practicing in your absence, Hibiki Sensei," Sakura beamed chirpily, continuing the giddy sequence.

Dan's gaze wandered. He stroked his forehead with his fingers, unsure of the idea. While Sakura spoke, he saw genuine fear in Kei's eyes.

"Kei's like a peacock in a cage, you see," she continued. "Her energy needs to be unleashed."

Dan nodded, gently pushing Kei back to Sakura so that they stood in a line. Then he suddenly blew his whistle. The girls jumped, startled.

"Excellent idea," he decided and grinned, repositioning the hat on his head.

"Am I ready to spar?" Kei asked herself rhetorically, but Dan answered "yes" for her.

"GO!" he yelled, with another hard blow to the whistle.  
Sakura kicked her legs about before running at Kei, who was too tensed to move. They fell to the ground, both kicking and screaming. Kei would have been lying if she said Sakura's pounce didn't hurt, but now she struggled to defend herself. This wasn't play fighting at all. Sakura was hitting her for real, even if her slaps were meant to be feeble.

"Hit me," Sakura ordered, her teeth clenched for extra ferocity. She watched Kei squeal and hide behind her hands. She rolled her eyes and sighed, pulling Kei's hands to her face, pretending to be attacked. She lolled her head from side to side, yelling "ouch, ouch" to make the charade look real.

Dan watched with his mouth hanging open, disgusted by the level of incompetency shown by these students.

"STOP!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. As expected, the girls were greeted by a look of utter disdain. "That is not the Saikyo way. You are fighting like cats and dogs and yelling in appalling fashion. I will need to teach you EVERYTHING," Dan yelled. "AGAIN!" he yelled once more, stretching the end of the word with an accent.

Sakura couldn't believe she was actually missing Kei and Dan. Dan was an incompetent teacher, but at least she had had some fun teasing him, and Kei was a good companion, as much as she hated to admit it. Hobbling out of the bathroom, she ruffled the towel over her short wet hair. As she was fully dressed, she had expected Ken and Ryu to be in her living room, but the room was still vacant. Sakura glanced at the extravagant bouquet of flowers Ken had bought her upon his arrival. It easily filled up one corner of the room. Rain splattered the window, fogging up the corners of the glass. She was just able to hear them talk from the bedroom over the loud drumming of the rain.

"If it wasn't for that minor oversight, I would have been there all day."

"I highly doubt that, dude. You were ready to throw in the towel the moment the dish landed on your lap."

Curious to hear more of the disjointed conversation, Sakura shuffled to the bedroom and pressed her ears against the shut door.

"Whaaaat? I bailed you out, man."

"I didn't ask you to come, Ken, did I?"

"Heh, when do you ever ask for help? That dude was a handful."

"I could have taken him on. You know that."

"What? The Ultimate Champion of America? You do realize, Ryu, that we have fifty states?"

"What's your point?"

"He was the champion, of all fifty states. Even I'd be a fool to challenge him."

Pulling a long face, Sakura shrugged, knocking on the door of her bedroom to let Ryu and Ken know that she had finished showering. It had been a while since she left the apartment, obeying Ryu's strict instructions to rest until her leg was healed. She was excited to finally get to sightsee around Los Angeles, even in rainy weather. Throwing the towel to one side, she re-examined her outfit: skinny black cardigan, red tartan skirt, stripy knee-length socks. She was ready to go.

Ken sat on Sakura's small bed with his shoe tucked in his hand. He had tried his best to scrub away the white scuff from the black patent leather but his efforts only frustrated him.

"I knew I should have had my usual polish and dry at the local cleaners," he complained quietly. The impulsive drive to Los Angeles had left him with no time to worry about such frivolous things.

Ryu had his own problems to deal with. "Nope, can't do it," he grumbled, unraveling the black silk back into his hand. The martial arts belt and headband he usually wore required the tying of simple double knots that took no concentration. This bow-tie from Ken, on the other hand, was annoyingly complicated.

"I feel like my fingers keep getting in a knot." He demonstrated, weaving the material through the loop, only for it to untie again. Dressing like this seemed over the top for their next plan.

"Tsk tsk. I hear talk of failure over there," Ken joked.

"I must have spent thirty minutes trying to tie this bow," Ryu said with gritting teeth. "By now, my mind would have calculated the intricacy of the technique as muscle memory before perfecting it."

"You're comparing _this_ to martial arts? Jeez, get a grip."

Ryu shrugged his shoulder. A sense of despair overshadowed him.

Ken sensed Ryu's mood, and went on. "As a great man once used to say, master one technique, and the rest will follow."

"Who used to say that?" Ryu asked, cocking his eyebrow as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

"You," Ken laughed, winking at him, "...at the age of fifteen. Look, you're doing this all wrong." Grabbing the bow-tie off him, Ken wrapped the fabric around his friend's neck. "Remember the last time I taught you how to do this?" he spoke softly, slowly demonstrating how the loops overlap. "You were making us all late for Mel's christening photo."

"You threw the tux at me on short notice," Ryu argued playfully.

Ken chuckled. "You haven't worn a suit since then, have you?"

"Uhh, not really."

"Oh boy. I wish you could surprise me one day by telling me you had your own party to go to."

"I'm clearly not the partying type," Ryu laughed.

"Clearly," Ken agreed, rolling his eyes. "You do know that godfathers are meant to grace their godchild with a few visits once in awhile."

Ryu pursed his lips, deliberately playing with a cuff of his white shirt. "These traditions are still a bit foreign to me," he mumbled, feeling Ken's eyes on him.

"And don't forget I was the one who showed you that restaurant," Ken suddenly yelled, throwing his voice over the door.

"Why are you trying to steal my favorite places?" Ryu challenged in the same tone.

"It only became your favorite after I took you there in the first place."

"Wait, what are we talking about again?" Ryu's tone was strained and perplexed.

"Dude, this is ridiculous. You'll have to explain to Sakura as soon as she sees you in this anyway," Ken pointed at the tuxedo Ryu was wearing.

"She's not ready to know," he snapped, uncomfortable about the plan altogether. "Her state of mind is still fragile. The mere mention of Tawnya will set her off."

"But she's gonna hate you for lying to her. Just tell her the meeting is my idea. She doesn't need to know about Fei Long's message to us at all."

Ryu pursed his lips again, sliding his hand against the smooth feel of the breast pocket. "I don't think this is a good idea," he said, looking down at himself in Ken's dress wear. The shoes were a little too big, and he already felt hot around the collar.

"So?" Ryu said, presenting himself for Ken's comments.

"For a man who doesn't care about his appearance," he smirked, "verrry nice. But you might wanna lose the bandana," he said, pointing at the red headband.

"Ryu Sensei," Sakura grumbled loudly, thudding harshly at the door.

"Maybe we should go join her," Ryu said, noting her sounds of frustration.

"What the hell are you guys doing in there? You're freakin' me out," she yelled.

"Yeah," Ken agreed, cocking his eyebrow.

"Ken, wait," he said glumly, feeling like shark bait. "There must be another way I can find out about her without doing this."

Ken ignored him. "Chill out. You've got plenty of time to practice. By being in her own environment, you'll have the best chance of uncovering her true intentions. You know that better than anyone."

Ryu sighed. "This is much more your way of doing things than mine," he said, pointing at himself with abhorrence. Ken smiled, walking out of the room to calm their host.

When entering the living room, Ryu felt almost saddened to see Sakura frown, but her expression quickly changed when she noticed how he was dressed. Her mouth fell open. It was a sight she thought she would never see \- Gucci suit, cute bow-tie, tidied hair and freshly shined shoes. She felt completely underdressed now.

Ken pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.

"Ryu Sensei? Hope you didn't go to all that effort just for my amusement," she said, smiling in admiration and excitement.

"I knew this wasn't a good idea," Ryu said, stiffening his shoulders as if moving would cause pain.

"I was only kidding," she cut in, hoping that she didn't upset him. "You look great. No, _awesome_."

"Thanks," Ryu mustered a smile.

"So, where're you guys taking me looking like that?" Sakura beamed, unable to take her eyes off Ryu. Quickly he averted his gaze to the ground.

"Okay," Sakura said, pouting. "What's _really_ going on here?"

"It's nothing," Ryu said dropping his head.

She frowned. "I totally know when you're lying, and you're lying right now."

Ken and Ryu both looked at Sakura with the same serious expression. This was the reason why she had developed a temper in the first place. Ryu was too big-brotherly sometimes, and it annoyed her.

"You got a hot date you're not telling me about, Ryu Sensei? 'Cause if you weren't so old, I'd definitely wouldn't say no," she joked, then dropped her smile when she saw Ken's cheeks lifting in amusement.

"You're his hot date," Ken said casually, taking a seat on the semi-broken sofa. Sakura laughed abruptly but Ryu's frigid movements forced her to quiet down.

She looked at them quizzically, re-tying the white headband around her forehead to stall time. "I don't understand," she muttered before the neighbor's loud rhythmless drumming started up again.

"Apparently, I need to be taught the art of conversation," Ryu said as normally as he could without looking at anyone.

"The art of what?" Sakura said, perplexed.

"Don't be mad, kiddo," Ken cut in, shaking his head, "but we need to prepare Ryu to meet Tawnya Blaze in person."

*****

Chapter 22:

THE MEETING

Fei jostled his leg tentatively, giving Tawnya his final advice. If he wasn't careful, he was sure she would see through his act with the anxiety he displayed. He felt danger around him, leading Tawnya to something that could possibly damage her. He could do nothing to warn her, despite him wanting to.

"Talk to no-one but him. That will ensure the full secrecy of this meeting," Fei said softly, looking into her beautiful face again.

"How can you be sure?" Tawnya sighed, pressing her pink lips together. "I mean, look at them. They've already parked themselves around us like a pack of wolves," she said, pointing at the photographers who hid behind the bushes. "I have an ugly feeling I'll end up on the front page again."

"You forget, sweetie, you're a pro."

"But I do things I can't help sometimes," she mumbled, scratching the back of her neck.

"Like drop your wine glass by accident?" Fei said, raising his eyebrows in amusement. "You can only control what is humanly possible. And if things do get rough, I'll handle the media."

"And you really think I should play it like that?" she said, hesitantly looking at him from under her eyelashes. Fei felt a rush of feeling. Her eyes were full with meaning.

"Yes, if that's what you're comfortable with. You're an actress, use what you know."

Tenderly, Fei caressed Tawnya's palm with long strokes, easing her into a false sense of security. Even after all this time, the faint scar of Ryu's name still brandished her arm, and it made him uncomfortable. He knew Ryu was a danger to her. He had seen too much with his own eyes with the influence Tawnya had on him. She would have never known of Ryu's whereabouts in Japan if he hadn't insisted on filming at the Iga location. One way or another, with guilt and remorse, Fei was going to walk away from this nightmare with his reputation intact.

Shaking off his nervousness, Fei smiled, stroking Tawnya's cheek just as he always did. He was unsure on what more he could say without sounding fake. He wished that Ryu would hurry up and show himself, so he could make himself scarce.

The candlelit lamps around the restaurant were bold, creating a majestic feel to the restaurant's exterior. This particular franchise was tucked away in a suburb that was entirely exclusive to the rich and famous. The owner was widely reputed for maintaining his client's privacy, a condition that Tawnya demanded. Though her lacerations had fully healed, she still felt self-conscious about her image.

"You look beautiful, by the way," Fei whispered, tracing over the diamond-laced neckline of her black dress. "He'd be a fool to walk away."

Ryu watched Tawnya from afar. No matter how much he willed himself to move, he couldn't take a step forward. This evening was a decisive moment. What he would do with the information was beyond him, but at least knowing was better than wondering whether Akuma and Tawnya were indeed one person. Perhaps the appearance of the Dark Hadou tonight would satisfy his curiosity.

Despite Gouken teaching his students the purity of Shotokan, he hadn't been able to protect them from Akuma's revelation of the Dark Hadou. Ryu could never blame his father, his mentor, to have ever failed him, but if he wasn't careful now, perhaps Sakura could land on the same dark path he walked.

Akuma was never going to win, Ryu was sure of that much.

"Dude, what're you waiting for?" Ken hissed from his car to shake Ryu out of his trance. He had forgotten that Ken was right behind him.

"Go. I'll be on stand-by," Ken said quietly, as if to not distract Fei and Tawnya from their show of affection.

"Ken..." Ryu said, but Ken had already driven off, disappearing around the corner.

Unaware of how leisurely he was walking, Tawnya grabbed Ryu's full attention as she now waited alone by the entrance of the building. He could feel his hands twitch, bracing himself for the Dark Hadou to impale him, but he felt strangely calm. Despite Ken and Sakura's tutorial about feminine behavior, he didn't know what to say to her, or how he should compose himself and lead her. How was he to unravel this woman's deepest, darkest secret?

As he stopped beside her, he fell silent. Unwillingly, he felt weakened by the way she stared at him. Her hazel eyes had a certain mysterious quality to them, but he was sure he saw a tinge of something indescribable...some strange malevolence.

Neither of them spoke for a while.

Then Tawnya broke out, "I've heard people say that breaking the ice is usually the hardest thing to do, but I'm sure that's easy for you. I mean, I can imagine you've broken much more than that in your line of work, right, Ryu?"

Ryu cocked an eyebrow as she cockily smiled. He instantly disliked her trying to be clever. He could sense Akuma's presence in her - the mind games. Ryu smiled, and opened the door to the restaurant in order to usher her in. He had to try and keep his judgment to a basic level, until she let something more substantial slip. If he was going to get through this evening without obsessing about Akuma and the Dark Hadou, he had to try and practice some of the skills Ken had shown him all his life.

"It's good to meet you too," Ryu said, his white pearly smile dazzling her.

Without another word, they were escorted to a table in a remote and private corner of a huge ostentatious room. He felt a little bewildered by the ornateness of these unfamiliar surroundings. The room was ridiculously overbearing, with a string quartet playing, candles everywhere, a highly polished baby grand piano surrounded by period furniture, and an overly attentive French waiter. Tawnya didn't seem as amazed as Ryu. She distractedly played with her sapphire diamond bracelet in an attempt to avoid his gaze.

If the Dark Hadou was going to ignite this night, there was no telling what damage he or Akuma could do in such an elaborate environment.

"Amazing isn't it," Tawnya said in a husky tone, "...how influence and power can bring you to a place like this."

She smiled at him as she coquettishly rested her tilted head on her hand. She swiveled half a goblet of water as if it was an intoxicated wine.

"Ever dined with the rich and famous, Ryu-san?"

"No, not really," he said bluntly, with Ken in the back of his mind.

"Well, call it my token of appreciation for coming tonight," she said suavely. "Let me know if you enjoy this. Give it a chance, sugah, you may like it."

Ryu twitched his neck. The stiff collar of the light blue shirt rubbed against his skin uncomfortably, but he smiled. He was trying his best to humor her, as Ken had advised him to.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, appalled that she was making such a lousy attempt to converse under this façade.

It was almost too difficult to avoid staring at him. One of the trademark rules of being mysterious was to shun direct eye contact. Her heart thumped harder and harder, louder and louder.

"Sure."

With a click of her fingers, Tawnya prompted their waiter. She was acting like a typical movie star: domineering, sophisticated, and fake. Ryu had his own characteristics to convey: patience, perseverance, and directness.

"I would like the tiger prawn sashimi with ponzu balsamic dressing, fragrant shoot mixed salad with a hint of lemon and lime. And can you combine the aubergine couscous with the salad, and make sure that there are extra pieces of fish in the main meal? And for you, Ryu?"

"Uhh, the same. Thanks," he replied, having paid no attention to what was on the menu. He didn't care for fancy meals. Her true intentions were his only interest.

Folding his hands on his lap, Ryu glanced at his dinner companion, trying to soften the tension he felt around his face with deliberate gentle breathing. He noticed her blatant display to avoid his gaze.

Gouken used to say, "People whom lack the decency to make simple eye contact, often have deep dark secrets with which they would like to conceal."

With her fingers, Tawnya now traced the patterns woven into the cream-colored tablecloth. She wished Ryu would stop staring at her, but perhaps she was misinterpreting his gesture. Coyly, she stole a quick glance at the man who sat opposite her. She hadn't noticed the crease in his brow or his unblinking eyes that bore through her. Her heart raced tremendously. She suddenly felt hot in the face.

"Who would have believed that I'm finally meeting the great Ryu Hoshi at last?" she cooed, her eyes glimmering in the candlelight.

"After all, we have been in the papers together without actually having met." Now her mind felt clear from any inhibitions. "The mystery can finally be unveiled."

"The mystery?" Ryu questioned, keeping his tone even. "I'm simply a man pursuing a passion."

"A passion and a great desire."

"What might that desire be?"

"The desire to be better and stronger. Surely that's every fighter's endeavor," Tawnya said rather woodenly.

"You seem to know a lot about fighting," he quizzed, burying a smile beneath his calm features. No one could have known his passion to train fervently without direct associations with him. Even if Tawnya had no connections to Akuma whatsoever, a commoner wouldn't instantly assume Ryu was a full-time martial artist. It wasn't normal.

"It's part of the day job," she said simply, as if it was obvious.

"Do you mind expanding on that?" Ryu replied as casually as he could without being abrupt.

Taking a sip of water, Tawnya regarded him over the rim of the glass. "It's just training," she responded just as casually, reflecting on her action scenes with Fei Long.

"Training," he mimicked with a gentle nod to the head. He liked what he was hearing. "Impressive."

"One gets used to taking orders and simply doing," she added. This time, she checked her manicured nails that glistened against the tea light candles.

"Training involves discipline and determination. How do you simply take orders?" Ryu scrutinized, trying to keep his tone controlled.

"Ever heard of the expression, 'Practice makes perfect'?" she stated simply.

"Are reporters your target practice then?"

Tawnya's confident smirk dropped away. She had been hoping that the issue of the fight with Sakura wouldn't emerge, but it was inevitable. Sakura and Ryu were friends, she remembered Fei saying. Tawnya smiled uncomfortably, the role of mysterious enchantress slipping away from her. "Look, this is not an excuse, but I can claim temporary insanity for that. I don't remember what happened."

"Of course. You were just taking orders."

"I sometimes have no choice," Tawnya said too quickly, trying to redeem herself, but Ryu only smiled at her. "No, I don't know what happened that night. Or how I even found her," she spluttered, hoping that she hadn't just dug herself a hole.

"I understand actors have lots of problems with reporters. Even yourself."

"I guess--"

"She must have been a nuisance to actually start a fight with you?"

"No, it wasn't like that."

"Why did the fight happen? There must be a reason."

"Because...I...I felt that...I'm sorry, I don't remember."

"You don't remember anything?"

"Not exactly," Tawnya couldn't help but admit.

"Shame, because you were extraordinary," Ryu marveled, leaning back into his seat.

Now he had Tawnya's full attention. The thump thump of her heart was as thunderous as large beaten drums. Her eyes widened in response to Ryu's apparent praise.

For a moment, Tawnya reminded Ryu of Sakura. The deep longing and yearning for approval shone on her face at his comment. Her eyes would water with satisfaction, and it melted him.

"Your moves, tactics, fluidity...you were as good as a true martial artist," Ryu continued. Now he leaned forward with a small smile etched on the corners of his mouth. He needed to know how she had possessed the dark arts, who had taught her, and how long she had been practicing. Her fighting style was peculiar, strangely familiar, and incomprehensibly frightening.

"Really?" Tawnya mumbled, unsure whether to accept or challenge his compliment.

"In all my life, I have seen only one other person fight like you..."

"Who?" she whispered.

"It doesn't matter," he shrugged. "You said you don't remember the fight, so it doesn't apply to you."

Ryu smiled openly now. If it weren't for the waiter's arrival with their meal, he would have taken the plunge and finished the execution with one swift move. He couldn't help but smile at how many times Gouken had been correct when he said, "As soon as the disclosure is exposed, reel it in slowly, gentle enough to trap the lie until the true answer is revealed."

Tawnya stared back, expecting him to look quickly away, but he gazed with a probing intensity that made her hands shake with sheer nervousness.

"Food looks great," Ryu said, breathing in the smell of the hors d'euvres before tucking them in.

Somehow, Ryu had become talkative, and Tawnya needed to understand how their roles had switched. She was determined to show herself in the best light, candlelit or otherwise, yet she was losing her confidence fast.

"So, how did you get into your line of work?" Tawnya inquired softly. Her face was filled with a seriousness that he had not expected. Ryu stopped chewing, considering an answer with a look of bewilderment.

"I meant, what made you become a fighter?" she clarified.

Ryu's eyes shifted around the room before he could find his voice again.

"Training gives me purpose in life," he started hesitantly. "I honored the man that taught me the arts, so much so that I wanted to perfect the style taught to me. I used to fight to test myself against more accomplished opponents, but it was always my destiny to follow a path."

"I didn't realize just how intricate it can be," she said in astonishment. "It almost sounds like a lifelong pilgrimage to me."

Ryu's jaw knotted. To hear this said aloud both daunted him and filled him with resolve.

"It makes me wonder whether you could feel that way about anything else," she said quietly, dropping her gaze.

Ryu immediately thought of Sakura. Taking a deep breath he said, "I don't understand why you ask such questions."

"Out of curiosity," she said, innocently.

"Why?"

Tawnya held her thoughts back. He was asking why, a question she didn't have an answer for. Lowering her head, she stabbed her fish with her fork, disseminating its flesh into small flakes. Her head buzzed, causing a short burst of pain near the temples. Her throat felt caught at the sound of _his_ voice distracting her contemplation.

" _Bring him to the dark arts."_

"The dark arts?" Tawnya repeated aloud.

"Excuse me?" Ryu replied, cocking an eyebrow. His features expressed total distrust.

" _Uncover his weakness with your curiosity."_

"Do you want to know how I train, perhaps? Or how my style has evolved?" Ryu probed, getting deeper into the trap he had set out for her. "Those moments in Japan..." he said almost shaking, "...you were sent to collect information on me."

Tawnya muttered in protest, but Ryu wouldn't stop talking. His tone changed, and he looked at her with a warning.

"Our style was originally used for killing, the wish to become the strongest of all," he paused, leaning further forward over the table. "I will not allow that. Understand that once the Dark Hadou enters your fists, an evil spirit will possess you and make you fight out of pride, until your dying day. I don't want it and I will never succumb to it."

His voice was sharp. "...No matter what you may do to me."

" _Uncover the mark."_

Tawnya panicked, wondering whether Ryu could hear his voice too.

"What are you saying?" she asked in alarm, disliking the seriousness on Ryu's once gentle face, which had now become tense and irate.

" _I shall command."_

His head snapped up. He felt a sudden heat rush to his face as he examined Tawnya with cold eyes. There must be something there, anything, he thought in a panic. Her pink lips, her delicate nose, her unusually beautiful eyes...Tawnya bore no resemblance to Akuma at all.

" _Hold him there. It is working."_

"Do you know anything about the Dark Hadou?" Ryu said through clenched teeth. His fists were shaking on the table. His sudden movement caused his fork to clatter to the floor.

"The Dark...Hadou?" Tawnya gulped, stunned that Ryu knew what was happening to her.

"Evil power poisoning you..." He looked up with his eyes red, watching Tawnya's lips move slowly. Her voice was mute, she was responding to a sound that also penetrated him. A shadow of darkness fell over him, and he heard screams of when Akuma performed the _Raging Demon_ \- Shun Goku Satsu – the method of an instant kill. Ryu felt something force his head to lower. He squeezed his eyes shut to draw out the eerie sound, the screeching and the buzzing. Failing in a frenzied effort, he tried to outrace his pain, but the stirring of the Dark Hadou within him was taking over his senses. The more Tawnya talked, the more his fists shook. He knew at that moment that she was trapped by Akuma's entanglements. He didn't care how. It didn't matter.

"Ryu, are you okay?" Tawnya's voice slithered into focus. "You look pale."

With an uncharacteristic lunge, Ryu grabbed Tawnya's left arm and pulled her towards him, pinning her hand tight under his large one. Plates smashed to the floor, candle wax was flung onto the tablecloth, and the fire in the little pot died. He turned her wrist over and examined it with probing eyes, his trembling fingers hovering over the tattoo 天. The horrifying Japanese symbol ignited a terrible memory that Ryu wished he could leave forever. Her tattoo was the very same as the writing that was left behind Gouken's dying body. He could see trickles of blood roll down the kanji, a message that splashed over the dojo wall written with Gouken's blood.

"The scar was an accident," she blurted, panic stricken from his ill-mannered move. She tried to wriggle her hand free, but Ryu was too strong.

"He'll kill me if I don't obey him," she squealed, shameful tears leaving her eyes. She sensed pure hatred from Ryu, perhaps even a hint of vengeance.

"Ten," Ryu breathed, almost choking on his words. "The sign of Akuma." He stabbed his thumb onto the tattoo below her scar. Tawnya shrieked with pain. The pressure of his thumb was enough to cut off her blood circulation and leave eternal bruises.

"It's a Japanese character that means 'heaven' or 'sky'," Tawnya moaned in miserable terror. "It doesn't...doesn't mean anything else."

Ryu bit his lips, feeling a sharp pain chase down his spine. For the first time, he felt pleased to have the Dark Hadou kick him. The Akuma within Tawnya was the trigger to his insane power. The mark of 天 was proof enough. Beads of sweat dripped down his face, and he felt himself slowly losing control. The muscles in his body stiffened and the shirt on his chest tightened until the buttonholes stretched. Now it was Ryu who moaned. The power taking over within him was burning, stinging, tearing at his heart. His pain was audible.

"Do you ever feel like...like someone or something is possessing you?" he asked Tawnya, writhing in anguish. "While you fight, do agonizing thoughts flow through you?"

Terrified, Tawnya turned her head left and right, in search of a way out. Her hair unraveled from its bun. She wrenched and squirmed under Ryu's full-powered grip on her.

"Let me go," she demanded, finally pulling away from him.

"Akuma..." he moaned, burying his fingers into the muscles of his thigh. He closed his eyes, breathed heavily, and more beads of sweat burst out on his forehead.

" _Akuma,"_ the voice in her head laughed. Tawnya squeezed her eyes shut. The unwavering laughter echoed, pulsing through her brain and down her spine.

"I was right about you all along...the Dark Hadou..." The panic was clear in Ryu's voice. He opened his eyes to see Akuma staring back at him, and he shook with fear. Akuma's evil eyes glowed, as if congratulating him for his feeble efforts. The dark fiery aura from his dark impure body made Ryu shake with endless pain. Akuma's face burned with a menacing tenderness as he drew closer to his sweat-drenched victim.

"Noooo!" Ryu finally screamed, swinging his fist into the demon's square face.

Guests in the restaurants shrieked, sending dinnerware and gourmet meals flying. They hurried away from the scene of destruction.

Alone in the midst of the splattered detritus, Tawnya was cringing against a wall, holding her bloody face with two trembling hands.

"Your fate is now sealed," Tawnya heard a soft whisper beside her. The strong smell of musk helped identify her instantly.

Rose smiled.

*****

Chapter 23:

LIKE KEN

It was dark with a surprising chill in the air. The dazzling sky twinkled under the moonlight without the disruption of stormy clouds. Its serenity was in sharp contrast to the throbbing chaos going on inside Ryu. He hurriedly limped down the hill to an underpass, tripping over his own footsteps in a desperate attempt to escape to a silent safety. As he clutched at his heart, groaning with pain, he thought himself mad to have imagined that the appearance of the Dark Hadou tonight might have pleased him. He struggled to regain a rhythm to his uncontrollable breathing, forcing himself to fight the Dark Hadou from taking over his soul.

Images flashed before his eyes. In a smoky red and black mist, he could see Akuma dragging his powerful body forward, the kanji 'ten' emblazoned behind him. Then, Ryu watched Gouken breathe his final testament to protect him, his white gi soaked in his own blood. His mind played tricks. He could feel hatred and evil rise from him.

Ryu was struggling to keep hold of the energy ball that fearsomely filled up his palms. It was too weighty to hold, and too tempting to restrain. Losing his balance, his head swirled with dangerous thoughts. He lurched forward and screamed to maintain whatever control he had left, but the strong surge to discharge the ball was overwhelming.

For a moment, his face imitated that of Akuma's. Every crease on his forehead deepened with tension, his mouth widened to a horrifying snarl, his nostril crinkled to something small, and the fireball reflected red into his pupils. Ryu sweated profusely, not caring where his vicious manner might lead him in this moment of weakness. With a thrust, he flung his strong arms forward and released the fireball into the air.

The car it hit gave one absolute burst before silhouetting the area with thick gray smoke. Relieved to feel the evil negativity leave him, Ryu collapsed to the ground with irrepressible panting.

A great sense of emptiness replaced his drive to destroy.

"Whoa, he blew the shit outta that."

"Oh man, those cops ain't gonna mess with us again."

Ryu's head pounded. He was crawling on his knees to escape the smoke that had started to suffocate him. His shirt was sooty and dark with blood. His shoeless feet scratched against the broken glass on the ground. Crouching, he could make out the shadows of people beyond the inferno he had created.

The police car crackled violently as if it was ready to explode again.

The dark-skinned teenager covered his mouth with an arm, lifting the cap from his head to gauge a better view of what lurked beyond the underpass. He pulled at his white boxers, his face scowling, then he grunted at the other two to join him.

"Nah man, I ain't gettin' up," the second teenager whined, remaining seated on the misshapen brick wall. But he stood immediately at the sight of the flat blade knife resurfacing from his friend's jacket. The short boy pulled him by the arm, gripping onto the blade tight.

"Don't push me," the second teenager said in a strained voice, pulling the hood around his face to hide his fearful eyes.

"Man, you do that?" the short boy yelled to the dark boy, shuffling towards the car with his wide-legged jeans dragging in the dirt.

"Yo, does it look like I've got a bazooka on me?" he snapped, waving his arm in the air.

"No way, man. That ain't no bazooka. That's some crazy alien stuff going on here."

Slowly coming to his senses, Ryu noticed the gang of three ahead of him huddled in a tight pack. Swirls of green graffiti covered the tunnel walls. Empty cans rolled around lost, and cigarette butts carpeted the ground. The whole place smelled of marijuana and potato chips that couldn't be masked by burning smoke.

In his blurred-vision state, the boys looked like grown skinny men armed with kitchen knives. Ryu shuffled on his knees, then dropped to the ground, unable to find the strength to move until his lungs was filled with clean air. Coughing, Ryu moved his arm to his nose, sniffing hard against his borrowed suit jacket that smelled faintly of fish.

"You hear that?" the second teenager muttered, looking around him with large eyes that seemed to glow under the fire light. He froze in his position for a moment with his hands behind his back. Seeing a shadow move beyond the mist, he nodded towards Ryu, who was squirming on the ground with half his face covered.

"Hey guys, looks like someone got lost on the wrong side of town," the dark-skinned boy laughed loudly, straightening himself up to his full height. "Yo man, China is a thousand miles that a way," he said, throwing his arms over his head.

His echoed voice forced Ryu to look up. He used his palms to struggle to his feet, ignoring the pain from the razor sharp glass that cut into his skin. He stood, swayed for a few seconds, then collapsed again.

Ryu moaned, feeling his stagnant body tingle uncomfortably from the sudden fall. His body was unresponsive despite the aching command of his mind telling him to speed up the recuperation.

"Who is this guy?" the short boy said, looking around desperately for another weapon to use.

"Yo, let's mug him. He looks loaded."

"I dunno, man, I don't wanna get arrested again."

"Don't be no wimp, man. He ain't got nothin' on us."

"Yeah, he's just some drunk straggler askin' to get--"

The boys stopped talking. They could hear the dreaded heavy chains clatter. A humungous shadow loomed over them.

"Move out the way, punks," a deep hoarse voice cut in.

An enormously tall man pushed past the teenagers with an easy shove, peering down at them with a lazily imperious expression on his face.

"What? Birdie, the rich guy belongs to us, man. Get your own," the short boy yelled, smacking the gang leader on the arm, even though the heaviest push would do nothing to move him.

Birdie grumbled, holding a knife in his thick stubby fingers. He cracked his knuckles one by one, then with a deliberate slowness, fed the knife through the hole of his tall blonde mohawk. The metal chains wrapped over his arms jangled as his giant shoulders heaved.

"Finders keepers," Birdie guffawed, showing no signs of smoke suffocation or concern that the boys were starting fight talk behind him.

Ryu groaned and scrunched his eyes in response to the crushing new ache he now felt in his fingers. Long pointed shoes were treading them. Without stepping off him, the gang leader bent down and clutched Ryu's sweat-drenched hair with his ringed hand. The huge punk smiled crookedly, with gold glinting on his teeth, and scratched at the thick black sideburns that connected over his large flat lip. He was at least seven feet tall with a body built to intimidate, and arms that seemed strong enough to weaken the foundation of a building. The teenagers quarreled behind him but none had the guts to approach him.

"What ya doin 'ere? This 'ere is my place," Birdie said to Ryu in a deep cockney accent that made him sound depressed. "You deaf? I'm talking to ya, you rascal weasel," he spat, hoisting Ryu into the air.

His colorless face wilted over Birdie's shoulder. His flaccid body hung limp in Birdie's grasp.

"You shallow lil' shit lookin' all sad..."

"Boss, we can take him on," the dark-skinned teenager protested, tapping a broken bottle against his palm with a look of madness. His beady eyes stared at Ryu with an eagerness that made Birdie scowl.

"Yeah, give us a chance," the short boy piped up, excitedly flicking a knife open. "Let's mess him up and ask for ransom or sumpin'."

Birdie laughed a broken laugh, releasing Ryu from his grip. He bent low, retrieving a half-smoked cigarette from the ground and laughed again. He lit it, took a long drag from the tip, then blew smoke into the already murky area. The teenagers huddled protectively together, expecting Birdie to smack one of them with his meaty closed fist, but his punch smashed directly into Ryu's expressionless face.

"Take him," he finally said, throwing away the stub. "This worthless git ain't worth my time."

The second teenager made a goofy face at his peers, causing them to laugh. "Sweet, our turn," he said in an unusually high-pitched tone.

He pulled his leg back and launched quick kicks into Ryu's stomach. Birdie smiled slightly, hearing pounds on soft tissue as he walked away. It was about time he gave his subordinates the chance to dig their teeth into some real meat.

Ryu peered at his assailants in silence, his eyes without emotion as they beat him. They kicked, punched, and even stabbed him in the shoulder with pieces of glass that pierced through his jacket. He knew that the slightest sign of a struggle would only set them off even more.

These light knocks from unskilled brawlers were nothing compared to the struggles with the Dark Hadou. Blood oozed from his nose from their vicious attack. As they beat his flesh with weak punches, he braced himself for a final knife stab.

"Shit, he ain't moving," one of the teenagers stuttered, noting Ryu's absolute stillness. The eyes were wide and glassy as if there was no life in them. Gingerly, the teenager used his foot to push Ryu's arm to one side only for it to limp back to its original position.

"Shit man," the boy muttered, his lips trembling at the thought of killing a man.

"He dead?" the dark-skinned boy said, but before he had the chance to react, one the teenagers scampered loudly away into the end of the tunnel.

The remaining two looked at one another, but they were caught by the fronts of their sweatshirts.

"You run like ya pal and you'll end up dead like our Chinese friend back there," Birdie warned, watching the teenagers cower before him with quick nods to the head.

"Boss, it wasn't me that killed him," the short boy said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Let's put the body in that cop car. Fry it real good," the dark-skinned one argued, pushing his friend on the chest. "That way, we ain't gettin' in no trouble. Coo'?"

"No way, man. I ain't touchin' that corpse."

Ryu blinked his eyes a few times, his head pounding. He listened to the conversation for a few seconds before finding the strength to stand on his feet. Open mouthed, the teenagers watched him.

"You want a rich guy, I'll give you rich," Ryu said, cocking a smile. He was nowhere special. This situation was nothing new. Lowlife scums loved to fight him, regardless of whether or not he was wearing Ken's Gucci suit.

"Stinkin' bastard," Birdie mumbled, turning his attention to the stranger. He held onto his skull buckle, contemplating on how to get rid of this man.

Ryu twitched on a smile, leisurely taking off the black suit jacket and draping it over a battered oil barrel. He unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled them up to his elbows, and smeared the sweat off his arms. He then lifted his finger to swab the blood below his nose, and flicked the red liquid at Birdie. His only defense right now was to not be himself at all. He was ready to play the game like Ken Masters, with or without a crowd.

Astounded by Ryu's lack of reaction to his wounds, Birdie trudged forward, knife in hand. "Come 'ere an' get some action, pussy. Time to feel some real pain."

Ryu smirked, ruffling the back of his hair as if he had heard an amusing joke. He was beyond the hardest part of recovery from the Hadou. The adrenaline of this fight would diminish any remains of it now.

Wagging his index finger, Ryu said, "Bring it," daring Birdie to throw out his first mistake.

Laughing, Birdie hurled himself at Ryu, expecting his first punch to knock him out, but his fist was blocked by thick and toughened arms that surprised him. He retreated, swiping the knife furiously in front of him, but Ryu kicked the weapon out of his hand.

"Any more tricks for me?" Ryu yawned, stretching his arms over his head. One of the teenagers let out a hiss of dissent.

"You dare taunt me? I'll fuckin' show ya, sucker," Birdie growled, enraged.

With a clunk, he released the heavy chains from his arm and spun them in the air until there was enough momentum to throw them. He released the chains but Ryu nimbly sidestepped behind his enormous body, forcing the giant to stumble forward with a mighty push.

"Show ya self," Birdie yelled angrily.

"Here I am," Ryu taunted, jumping high into the air. He ruffled Birdie's sculpted hair before tapping him on the chest.

Birdie spun his body, throwing himself off balance. He controlled his fall with one leg, swinging the chain at Ryu, who was ducking and diving from every move he made.

This man was fast and mocking Birdie as though he were an imbecile. Sheer embarrassment painted his face red, and he grasped the chain tighter and tighter until he felt his fingers go numb. No matter where he turned, Birdie was unable to trap his rival with his weapon of choice.

Ryu bowed under a kick, then backed away from a powerful punch that would have easily knocked him out if it hadn't been so slow. While Birdie wasn't the quality rival that Ryu would expect at a tournament, he was enjoying this taunting the way Ken always did whenever he was bored in a battle. Ryu moved swiftly from side to side, listening for Birdie's verbal insults during his attacks.

"Good punch but try connecting it to my face this time," Ryu laughed, blocking a sidekick with his forearm.

It was no wonder that Ken always smiled while he fought. It took great skill to fight with focus, and make it look like nothing but fun. He knew that he could never keep up this charade with a skilled martial artist like Akuma, but for now, Ryu felt better doing what Ken did in an effort to escape and trick himself.

The teenagers howled, cheering to support Birdie. The two fighters spun in a circle, Ryu cocking his eyebrow in an effort to further embarrass his opponent. His goading led to more outbursts of fury. Birdie threw his arm back, ready to strike with the chain again, but felt it caught against a rail fence. Growling, he tugged to release it.

"No weapons? 'Av it your way. Now I fight ya for real," he said, shouting over the jeers of the others. He had to prove that he was fearsome. "Show some respect an' maybe you keep breathin'."

Running, Birdie managed to grasp Ryu's already reddened neck. "Sod you, punk! I'll finish you off nice an' easy," he said, squeezing Ryu's neck hard enough to cause fatal strangulation. Birdie laughed, thrilled to see an inkling of desperation appear in Ryu's distended eyes.

"You ain't got long now before I send you up to Papa. Boys, I fink you gotta start chantin' me some prayers," Birdie laughed, pulling his head back for a butting.

"Not...so...fast...asshole," Ryu managed to wheeze, maintaining a haughty smile.

He clasped his legs around Birdie's arm. Then, with all his might, Ryu swiveled his body upside down, turning his head to one side to loosen Birdie's grip, then jumped down to the ground.

"Now, time to take out the trash," Ryu smiled, sensing Birdie shuffling behind him. The sounds of his heavy feet were like elephants stamping across a field.

"I'm gonna get ya, sucker," Birdie howled, chains rattling off his leather waistcoat.

Ryu smiled, then thrusted his leg straight out, forcing the giant punk to stumble over it. There was a harsh thud. Birdie lay knocked out onto the ground, his huge body at the end of Ryu's bleeding feet. Ryu stood in his stance breathing errantly, feeling a slight wave of relief in his body. The teenagers fell silent, cowering into the darkness, before Birdie had a chance to come to.

Ryu leered at the punks for a moment, then very slowly draped the black jacket over his shoulder. He looked down at his fallen opponent, smiling ever so slightly before he walked away.

*****

Chapter 24:

INVISIBLE KI

Her fingers clawed rigidly in front of her. She had not known that the muscles in her hands could ache so much. No matter how sore her feet were and how her arms had tired, Sakura knew she must continue this sequence until she was told otherwise.

From the moment Ryu dragged her into Ken's training dojo, she knew this was exactly where she felt most at home, to fight, and train to fight, but Ryu's strange behavior was beginning to bother her. Other than to tell her to pack her bags for their training in San Francisco, he had hardly spoken to her. That was precisely a week ago. Ryu looked frazzled. The area under his eyes was darkened, evidently by terrible lack of sleep. She knew his mind was still with Tawnya Blaze.

Sakura frowned as she thought of what might have happened between them. It angered her that Ryu refused to speak to anyone except Ken. She felt so shut out of his life. Perhaps she was nothing more than just a student to him after all...so much for being best friends.

"Sakura, concentrate! You're wilting," Ryu said firmly, staring at her with cold eyes. "Tighten your fist and hold your head upright. This stance must be mastered. It takes months of practice to develop. Let the energy flow into your arms. Now try again but this time, distribute your weight equally on both legs."

Once again, Sakura tried to position herself with respect to Ryu's orders. He sat watching her from the sidelines. Determined to get at least one movement correct, she placed both hands on her waist before stepping forward with open palms. She had been practicing to form a _Hadou-ken_ for half an hour now. Except she wasn't allowed to form a fireball until her form was consistently perfect. At least she looked cool wearing Ryu's karate top, she thought, even if it was thrown over her gym shorts and shirt.

She shook her head trying to concentrate on Ryu's words. If her mind didn't stray so often, his commands wouldn't be so difficult to follow.

"Now stay in that position. I'll count you down and I want you to put all your energy forward. Imagine the power of the Hadou pushing further than the length of the dojo itself."

Sakura focused her gaze on the tiny candle at the other side of the room, thinking on how Ryu could extinguish its light with nothing but empty air. Pushing energy forward to the other side of the room wasn't impossible, but no matter how many times she tried, Sakura couldn't blow out the candle, not even with her mouth.

"Remember," Ryu instructed, "...invisible ki is the power, the energy source to the Hadou. Once perfected, you will be able to manipulate this ki to control your fireball. In this way, your fireball will be able to gain more reach. Now, your aim is to push the flow of the energy to the furthest point of this room. Your stance is wilting again. Get ready."

She quickly straightened up, feeling agony in her muscles. To conjure this invisible ki was proving difficult, but she told herself to stay focused. She had expected exactly this kind of hardship as Ryu's student, but she had simply forgotten how hard he trained her.

Mind over body, Sakura reminded herself, dreaming of a time when she would finally be holding up her very first tournament cup, with Ryu smiling proudly by her side.

"I can do this," she said with grim determination.

"Concentrate," Ryu said sternly, gripping onto his karate pants. "Get ready."

"I'm already ready, Ryu Sensei."

"Stop talking. Now focus."

Ken and Sean watched quietly from the other side of the dojo. Ken had wanted to coach Sean with Sakura and Ryu, but Ryu was very vocal about training her alone and without distractions. He had known Ryu's meeting with Tawnya wouldn't go smoothly, but he hadn't expected to see him physically beaten. It was strange to hear about the brief encounter with the gang, and even stranger that Ryu lacked emotion when speaking about his experience. He had never known his friend to stop training. Diverting his energy by equipping Sakura with the best martial arts defense was a way to distract himself.

While Ken housed his guests for the 'special' training, he was also insistent to train, hard. The fight may not have ended up as the focal point of his life, but martial arts had given him direction, discipline, a role model, and an eternal friend. He wasn't going to let Ryu take the whole burden of finishing off Akuma. It was his duty too and he was damned if Ryu was going to take all the glory.

"Pssst, Ken," Sean hissed behind his fighting mitts. "Why don't we just train with them? It's your dojo and there's plenty of room. Why are you letting Ryu bully you?"

Ken continued to watch Ryu instruct Sakura with great intensity. The look in Ryu's eyes was something Ken had never seen before. He knew Ryu wasn't going to stop until he was satisfied with Sakura's progress. She had become the center of his attention, even more so than preparing for his fight with Akuma.

Poor kid, Ken thought somberly, Sakura had no idea what Ryu was going to put her through, but then again, his methods were admirable. Sean was too much like Ken in his younger years, brash, arrogant and out of control. Watching Ryu's discipline over Sakura made him feel like a failure as a teacher. After all these years, Sean still hadn't picked up the _Hadou-ken_ and was too impatient to recycle one technique for practice.

Ken was unsure of why he felt so jealous of Ryu right now. Sean had never been his main project, like Sakura was to Ryu; he was merely a distraction from his mundane routine, a reminder of his bygone street fighting life.

"Out in the yard now, punk," Ken snarled, pulling Sean roughly up by his arm until he was standing tall.

"What? Really?" Sean spluttered, confused by Ken's abrupt action.

"Don't challenge me. Now get the hell out."

Before leaving the dojo, Ken glanced over at Ryu and Sakura continuing to practice. It wasn't Sean's inability to pick up new skills that had him irritated, but his sense of failure over his son Mel's lack of development. Since the moment Ryu arrived in San Francisco, Sakura had begun her training, but it had been months since Ken paid any attention to his own son in the same way. Perhaps Eliza was right to notice the change Mel was going through in Ken's absence. Mel was barely engaged in training, and he didn't really care for it---not nearly as fervently as Ken once did. Watching Sakura and Ryu practice ignited a new drive in Ken.

Sean shuffled his foot in the grass, feeling aggravated that Ken paid him so little direct attention. For once, he was actually serious about developing his skills. Ryu's presence was enough to make him want to train so that one day, he could defeat him and finally earn Ken's respect.

"Yo, we gonna spar or what?" Sean failed to hide the frustration in his voice.

"Not until Mel comes down," Ken answered him firmly, walking toward the main building of his house.

"But Mel ain't trained with us for months," Sean responded, dumbfounded.

"Exactly."

Ken had no idea why Mel's training spirit had withered, and felt inclined to blame his wife because he knew how much she despised having their only child involved with fighting.

"He can't continue to ignore me forever," Ken mumbled, looking around his vast home. It was about time Mel engaged in the martial arts discipline and showed him some respect.

"MELVIN, I NEED YOU TO GET DOWN HERE NOW!"

He vowed that his son would train into the Shotokan arts as a small token from father to son. Even if he didn't need Mel to become the next American Champion, it was enough to see him have a healthy interest in it.

"MEL, I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME. HURRY UP!" he yelled, looking up at the highest floor of his white mansion.

Bored, Sean picked up a basketball nearby and bounced it hard against the ground. His teacher clearly had other concerns than him.

"MELVIN, DON'T MAKE ME GO UP THERE."

"Dad, I'm right here," Mel cried, approaching the house from the front yard on his bicycle. By the looks of his sweaty blushing cheeks, he had just got home. "I was out with Eric. I did tell Mom. What's up?"

"Go and get changed into your gi. You're training," Ken said all too casually, unbothered that Sean was walking back into the dojo where Ryu and Sakura were audibly training. Mel looked at his father, consumed, as he panted to catch his breath.

"What? Now? I only came home to grab my other bike. I'm gonna test out the new wheels I bought for them. It's gonna be so sweet riding down that hill with those," Mel grinned excitedly, but his face dropped at Ken's angry look.

"You're training. Now. You can ride that bicycle anytime."

"But, I've spent so long trying to--"

"Don't argue with me, Melvin. You've neglected the arts for too long. I'm free today so take advantage of it."

Mel dipped his head low, suppressing the urge to argue back.

"Just go in and watch Sakura train. It's magic," Ken tried to encourage his son.

Mel hesitated. "But my friend is waiting for me."

"Just do as I tell you for once," Ken cried, frustrated that his son was acting like a typical stubborn teenager.

Mel looked at his father with resentment. He hated when he was forced to do something he had little interest in. Martial arts was cool in the movies, but practicing it in real life was a chore. He hated waking up feeling sore in the morning, and he usually despised practicing a kata, knowing that he could never use it.

Watching Mel chew on his knuckle anxiously, Ken let out a big sigh. "Listen, buddy," he said with a softer tone. "Think of this as your chance to show Uncle Ryu how much you've matured. It'll be like old times, having a little tackle with your old man."

"I dunno, Dad," Mel grunted, swinging his rucksack over his shoulders.

"Be a pal and get ready for practice, please?"

"Jeez, Ken, the kid said no. Just let him be," Eliza shouted into the courtyard. Then she pushed Mel by the shoulders as a sign for him to get indoors. "Don't force him to do something he obviously doesn't wanna do."

She pointed at her husband threateningly. "We don't all have the same passions as you, okay? If you want to train and fight, then go join Ryu in there."

Eliza's sudden defensiveness took Ken aback. He had been sure Mel was ready to cave in to his request without his mother's fret.

"Stop treating him like a child, Eliza," Ken said as calmly as possible, getting ready to walk back into the dojo as she had suggested. "I have a responsibility to teach my son self-protection. Don't get in the way of that."

"That isn't what I would call being responsible, Ken," she fired back, suppressing her disappointment through clenched teeth. "Go and help your kid study once in a while, or ride with him, something normal. You hardly see him but when you do, you just want him to train? Don't you see what you're doing to the kid, Ken?"

"Stop calling him a kid, Liz!"

"Umm, Mom, I guess I can train," Mel said somewhat feebly, unable to understand why his parents were arguing. "I mean, Dad isn't always home so it'll be--"

"Mel, I told you to get inside," Eliza scolded without taking her eyes off her husband. "And get washed up."

"Since when have you become so controlling, Liz?" Ken said resentfully. He didn't flinch at Eliza's facial reaction. "I want to spend some time with my son. You always rave on about how I don't do enough of that, and now you tell him to go away? Do you hear yourself sometimes? Mel, get your stuff. Let's go on a trip, father and son."

"Whoa whoa," Eliza said, taking a step closer to her husband. "A trip? So, will that include me by any chance?"

Ken paused for a moment, wanting to laugh, but he stopped himself. The idea of Eliza finally participating in their activities was too hard to comprehend. He had tried so many times to get Eliza out of the house, to spend some quality time, but she was always too quick to escape to her sister's place for support. It was almost like she didn't want to burden her time with him, and it seemed certain that she no longer wanted Mel to be in his presence. Somewhere along in their marriage, Ken figured he must have hurt her without knowing.

"Seriously, all I want to do right now is make Mel understand the importance of his training, or at least convince you that it's for his own safety."

Eliza sighed exaggeratedly at Ken's comment.

"Okay, scrap the trip, I was kidding," Ken said, as he muffled a chuckle. "Just let me spend some time with him, okay? And come join me on the trip to Ohio in two weeks instead. Husband and wife. Please?" He offered his hand to Eliza in a gesture of solidarity.

Years of mental training had taught him to be patient with his wife's strange behavior, and to accept her criticisms and insults. It was easier to let her win than fight her, a philosophy he didn't take with him into a physical brawl, but Eliza was no match.

Eliza stammered, but before she could answer, a loud crash distracted her train of thought.

"Oh, Ryu Sensei, shit...I'm sooooooooo sorry."

"SAKURA! I told you to hold it, not release it."

"Oh, shoot, shoot, shoot."

"You said you could handle it."

"I thought I could, Sensei."

"Now you'll get us both in trouble."

The burning planks of wood crashed against the ground one by one, leaving a gaping hole in Ken's dojo. Ken and Eliza approached the building with caution as the small fire died down.

"Ken, I'm so so sorry," Sakura pleaded, peeking at him through the charred hole in the wall she had made with the _Hadou-ken_.

Ryu shrugged his shoulder empathetically. She had been told repeatedly to restrain herself from releasing the fireball. Apparently strengthening her level of control was yet to be mastered. Now the efforts of her labor had left a mark on Ken's dojo, with half the wall no longer there, bringing in an uncomfortable draft.

"Ryu Sensei, I promise not to do that again. I'll restrain myself and work harder," Sakura said adamantly. She took a deep bow, desperate to be the good student again.

Eliza gasped, not sure what to say, but she couldn't help but feel relieved that the dojo was only partly destroyed by the hands of an amateur.

"Heh, no biggy," Ken said, trying to casually usher his guests out of the wreckage with a wave. "I'll just have to build a bigger and better dojo."

*****

Chapter 25:

MEDIA STUNT

Fei dipped his head low, collecting his thoughts in the midst of the boisterous crowd of reporters who continued to hurl questions at him. He breathed deeply, preparing himself for the final execution, but his stomach wrenched painfully at the thought of going through with this.

He turned around with his hand still resting on his chin as he watched Rob and Tawnya argue heatedly over Sakura Kasugano. No one could see him frown behind his sunglasses as he kept his eyes on Tawnya's face. Despite the concealer makeup, the swelling of her eye made the bruise look obvious. Tawnya looked emotionally brittle, and it was his fault. His entire fault.

"Oh I such goo director," Rob raised his voice in a sarcastic tone. "I do no such thing to tell you to act this. No start real fight."

"It wasn't planned for God's sake, it just happened," Tawnya protested, shielding her eyes from the flashing, blinding lights.

"Tawnya, are you suggesting that the thirty or so spectators that watched you start the fight with Sakura Kasugano are lying?" a female reporter said with an unforgiving stare.

"Why don't you tell us more about how you ended up with a bruise on your face last week?" a blonde journalist cut in.

"That's none of your business," Tawnya retorted, unconsciously covering her face with a trembling hand.

"Is it true that you had dinner with the Japanese martial artist?" another reporter yelled.

"We believe that Fei Long was at the scene while you were both dining. Why were you there, Mr. Long? Do you not trust your girlfriend?" another half-jeering voice said.

Tawnya clutched her head, willing herself to shut out all the voices that were hammering at her. She had no idea how to answer these questions without harming her contract with Fei Long, one way or another. Fei wanted her to meet Ryu, Fei wanted to believe that she was not a schizophrenic; Fei wanted Tawnya to continue their charade. She had to be faithful to him, but she knew it was Fei Long who had evidently led her to Ryu.

_They are all against you,"_ _his_ demonic voice pounded in her mind, sounding more sympathetic than usual.

"Fei, Fei Long," a reporter queried, "does your silence mean that you knew about the meeting Tawnya Blaze had with this Ryu Hoshi?"

" _You have no ally; trust no one except your own mind."_

"Fei, how can you ever forgive Tawnya for her betrayal?"

Tawnya suddenly felt her body warm up as Fei wrapped his arms around her in a gentle cuddle. She took in his familiar scent. She rested her face against his chest and felt her head soothed by the comforting strokes of his hands.

"I'm here for you, Tawn," Fei said softly, as if they were the only two people in the room. "No one can harm you under my protection."

Listening to the commands of her mind, her heart pumped faster. With her ears pressed against his chest, she could also hear the thunderous thumps of his heart too.

"We can get through this together," he assured her, kissing her hair a few times.

Tawnya's reddened eyes widened at the memory of Fei uttering those same words moments before leaving her to Ryu. His face had seemed so serious, so sincere. Her heart was beating so strongly, she thought she might faint, but she willed herself to push Fei away.

"You're in on it too, aren't you," Tawnya yelled, her body shuddering uncontrollably. The room was stuffier than ever.

"You've been using me for your own twisted schemes," she continued, screaming over the deep voice that was keeping her caged in. "You never cared, you...you only ever cared about yourself!"

Fei tried to step forward to cuddle her into silence, but was rammed back by another angry thrust.

"You're only trying to keep me sweet now so these idiots don't know our relationship is one big hoax."

Fei stood rigidly. He could feel his right eye twitch as he watched Rob's mouth drop open. The guilty feeling of pushing Tawnya over the edge kept clawing at him.

"Yeah, that's right," Tawnya said, facing the stunned crowd. "Fei and I were never in a real relationship. He forced it on me, paid me big bucks to play you all. Yeah, I'm just a media hooker."

"Fei Long, is this true?"

"Fei, what is she talking about?" the reporters yelled simultaneously.

" _The man you see is not the man you believe."_

"You can't control me anymore, Fei."

"Tawn, have you taken your meds?" Fei said, calmly reaching out for her.

" _He is playing with your mind."_

"I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy," Tawnya muttered to herself.

"I'm sorry," Fei said assertively, expressing his sentiments to the media pandemonium in front of him. "Tawnya is in no fit state to answer any more questions."

"Try me," she yelled at the throng, cutting in front of him.

The flashing lights continued to attack her vision. She squinted as she spoke. "Ask me anything, I dare you."

"Ms. Blaze, who is Ryu Hoshi?" a loud voice at the back said.

Tawnya stammered. Her eyes shifted rapidly left and right. She was confused by the probing voice in her head.

"What is your feeling towards Fei Long right now?"

"How long did you plan to continue your fake relationship? Didn't you not think we would find out?"

"How much did HKL International pay you to have relations with Fei Long?"

Tawnya began to hyperventilate. The inner voice shrieked for her to stop, to look away. She scrunched her eyes shut, finding sanctity in the darkness of her gloved hands, but this only amplified _his_ voice to full volume. It was a solitary voice now.

" _There will be a time when you can finish all this,"_ his rasping voice told her with great confidence. _"No more reliance on anyone but yourself."_

She breathed harshly into her hands, her eyes flickering silently, listening to his voice intently.

" _The man you see..."_ _he_ said, conjuring Ryu's face in her mind, _"...is not the man you think he is."_

Ryu's serious face scowled at her, ferocious, until his eyes turned blood-red.

" _He sees something sinister in you, but it is he who is a threat. Ask yourself, why did he ruin your face?"_

She could feel panic rivet her. It was enough to make her dizzy, tilt sideways and smash onto the ground.

" _There will be a time when you can end all this, alone."_

Tawnya felt herself being lifted to her feet by the rough hands of Rob and Fei, who peered into her face with crazed concern. She tried to twist away from them, to loosen the hands holding her down in a gentle death grip, but she was too weak. Feeling suffocated, Tawnya shot her head up into the flashing lights. Her ears tuned into the yells and howls of reporters and her co-star telling her to "snap out of it." Her eyes blurred for a second before focusing on Fei, who was pointing threateningly at her.

"Ladies and gentleman," Rob announced to the crowd.

Fei held her in a cradled grasp that was difficult to escape.

"As of now, Hong Kong Long International no longer be representing Ms. Tawnya Blaze. Her condition is big liability and I work no under threat. Tawnya Blaze pay lump compensation to Miss Sakura Kasugano and her future action no be my responsibility. Thank you."

Rob dropped the microphone with a loud thud to the floor as he stood mournfully in front of the blinking crowd.

"No!" Tawnya screamed, squirming out of Fei's clutch. "You can't do that, you bastard."

"My cash cow let me down," Rob said with a shake to the head, continuing in Cantonese.

Tawnya gasped and suddenly sprinted out of the conference hall. She barged through the fire exit doors and took a sharp left into the bathroom. She held herself tight against the door for a second before bursting into a tearless echoed wail. Feeling her knees shake, she collapsed to the floor, catching sight of her broken face in the long mirror. The bathroom was quiet, except for a loud dripping tap that caught her attention for a second.

She stood and reached for the tap, but her fingers froze. There were soaked playing cards in the sink. Sensing that she was not alone, she felt her heart pulse erratically. Terror-stricken, she spun around, hearing faint, soft laughter.

"I know you're there," she said loudly, but the echo of her own voice was her only response.

Tawnya turned the tap fully, splattering cold water over her clammy face.

"Tawnya," something whispered.

Startled, she let out a wheezy gasp, splashing water all over the large mirror. Her own face stared back at her, wet and red around the eyes.

"Am I going mad?" she said, watching her lips move as she spoke.

"Mad, I say not. Losing your mind, yes."

Rose smiled at her, her face in the mirror as if it were Tawnya's own. Petrified, Tawnya turned around to see no one standing behind her, then, with great caution she touched her face, wondering whether it was still hers. Her hand trembled over the swelling Ryu caused, and she was puzzled as to why Rose's face had replaced her own. She knew her own eyes were furrowed with fear, but Rose held no expression at all.

"This is crazy," Tawnya whispered, placing a finger over her moving mouth.

"You will end this," came Rose's words.

"Are you really there?" Tawnya asked, testing her sanity. She traced over the mirror with her shaky fingers.

"Soon."

The piercing pain in her heart came back overwhelmingly. It felt like a stabbing knife. Angrily, Tawnya smeared the mirror with her wet hands, and raced to the shut window on her right. She opened it high and peered over, wanting to jump, but now Rose's reflection shone on the window glass.

" _You can't escape."_

Just then, her heart felt weak. She clasped at her chest and she tore at her hair with her forehead resting on the ledge. She had seen this before, not once, but twice...in Ryu. Tawnya had watched him struggle to breathe, dragging his feet across the grass as if he had a lead ball shackled to his ankle. His eyes had reddened from the sheer pain he felt, replacing the kindness of his face with a demonic scowl.

"Slowly taking over, my little star." Rose's voice felt far away. The room tilted away, and Tawnya hit the floor hard, with arms and legs shaking.

She was laughing.

"The Akuma assails," Tawnya said, except it wasn't her voice. She clutched sideways at the floor with a demented smile, scratching at the black tattoo on her wrist until the lines were bleeding. "Now this is the end."

*****

Chapter 26:

TWO HEARTS

"Hmmmmmmmmmm, Ken!" Eliza moaned under her breath, desperately gasping for some air. She grabbed at the white sheets tight, groping Ken's waist with her long, lean legs. She loved taking short amorous looks at the man who roamed on top of her. A low jerky sigh escaped her while Ken ran his hands down her neck, his fingers tracing her delicate collarbone in fulsomeness.

The way the couple made love this early morning had diffused whatever memory was left of their fierce argument. She had almost been shocked that she slapped Ken, because of his inability to understand her needs. She had never laid a hand on her husband before, but this time she had been overtired and angry from continually shouting.

The ferocity of their arguments almost always led to sex.

Eliza felt her husband pull back with a groan and collapsed onto the pillow beside her. He was grinning away with total satisfaction, a sight that she loved to see. It felt like old times.

The curtain was drawn, darkening the room with a cross between navy blue and murky gray. The bed was the hotel room's main feature. All the other furniture was carelessly placed around the enormous divan where the two remained in peaceful glory.

Ken let go of his pillow and kissed Eliza's hair, holding her tight in his arms. He had never understood why his wife had lost her personality. The worry and verbal tussle brought her state of mind to depression, and her adventurous fighting spirit vanished. Eliza always used to support his endeavors, but now something in her had changed. He hoped that this short trip to Ohio would help to rekindle their happiness, even if he planned to fight at a tournament later today.

He only hoped that his house cleaners were taking care of Ryu back home. It was almost likely that his best friend was babysitting Sakura, Sean and Mel single-handedly, but Ken did promise him that.

"This feels so good, honey," Eliza hummed, readjusting her head on his chest. "We can spend the whole day like this. Naked and alone."

Ken buried his hand into her hair, separating the golden strands and gently kissing her. He pulled back to cast her an amorous look, then guiltily dropped his gaze.

"Yeah," he suddenly blurted, pulling himself up to stretch and yawn. "Wish we could, babes, but we've got a full day ahead of us, right?"

Peering at his body, Eliza grabbed the bed sheet against her in dismay. She let out a frustrated gasp. She should have known that making love with him would do nothing to change his mind about the event. She had a bad feeling about it, and she was pained that he didn't take her seriously.

"You're still going ahead with it then, huh?" she said bluntly.

Ken's spine tingled hearing the bitterness in her voice. "It's just for the afternoon. We have now and the entire evening together, hon. No distractions."

He watched her, disheartened, as she heaved another sigh.

"Okay, Liz, what's up?" he said, clearly aggravated. "I'm trying my best here. Actually, I'm trying my damned hardest."

Eliza stared straight at an oil painting of a potted sunflower. She didn't want to talk for fear that she would be repetitious, with Ken only hearing what he wanted to hear. She didn't like the person she was becoming. Bossy, clingy, unsupportive, but how could she support him with all the changes that were overcoming her? Ken was so blinded by the passion to train again that he hadn't even noticed the changes in her body.

She wanted an ordinary life, a normal husband who would come home straight to his wife instead of being squeezed in between meetings and trainings across the world.

Noting her silence, Ken skulked to the suite bathroom, roughly combing his knotted hair with his fingers. In all honesty, he had lost what little patience he had with her. He didn't want to waste his energy arguing again. It simply wasn't worth it.

"Asshole," Eliza muttered under her breath, pulling on a sleeveless turquoise sweater. Gingerly, she traced her hand over her stomach, then slammed a fist against the hard mattress.

"Good to see you've changed at least," Ken said, re-emerging into the room fully dressed. "The taxi will be arriving in half an hour."

Eliza ignored him, but felt his hand on her face, forcing her to look at him.

"Liz," he said softly. "I need my leading girl to cheer me on. It's up to you if you want to be a part of this, but just know that I can't do it without you."

She dropped her gaze to a burnt spot on the carpet. Her heart stung with the realization that she had stopped being his partner a very long time ago. In the past, she had made an effort to help him train by dressing in her gym gear and practicing with him. She used to love putting on a pair of focus pads, and watching Ken's exhilaration with each strike. Training with him made Eliza understand why he and Ryu were so close, but one day, she had stopped walking into the dojo.

"I didn't realize we were leaving so soon," Eliza said, trying her best to provoke some excitement in herself for him, but it was a struggle and a chore.

"I'm guessing you're coming, right? Can I trust my wife to watch me fight again?" Ken smiled at her just a little. "Liz, you're still my strength at the ringside. You always have been."

"It doesn't feel like it," she said in a small voice, her heart fluttering at his words. It seemed to her that he always acted as if he was better off without her.

He lifted her chin up and she watched his smile grow.

"You're the only reason I win, babes," he said, leaning forward so that their heads were touching. "The prize of hot sex is always a keeper."

"You big jerk," Eliza laughed, slapping at his chest playfully.

"So you see," he continued in the same soft tone, "I need you at the tournament because you're my strength, my inspirational life line."

"Ken," Eliza said, stepping away from him.

She hid her face behind her hair, anxious to reveal to him her big news. She nervously picked at her chin before turning to face him again.

"I worry about your safety when you're out fighting."

His smile dropped. He anticipated something familiar and ugly to rouse any minute now. So much for romance, he bitterly thought.

"When it was just you and me, we had only ourselves to think of, so it was easy to get caught up in the tournament lifestyle. But Mel is a teenager now, and he's picking up your habits and passions without understanding the dangers involved. It's kinda scary."

She paused for a moment, then continued. "He doesn't see the blood you bring home, the broken arm you love to sport, and the nightmares you sometimes see. I know we promised for Mel to never see the horrors martial arts brings, but...if anything was to ever happen to you in a fight, I know Mel would want to avenge--"

"Liz, seriously!" He gave a short mirthless laugh. "We've been through this a billion times already. It's getting boring, you know."

Eliza looked angry again.

"Listen," he said, placing a finger over Eliza's lips. "Since Akuma's return, it's made me realize just how much I need to get back into training, you know, to help Ryu and all. Didn't I promise you that I'd only fight when I knew I had to? Why do you think I took over Dad's business and gave all this up? Eliza, fighting is in my blood. I've trained in diapers. It's a piece of cake and I'm not going to let some third grader put a scratch on me."

"Oh for Christ sakes, Ken," she bawled, placing his hand on her stomach.

He flinched, widening his eyes at her sudden gesture.

"I'm pregnant," she said sharply.

*****

Chapter 27:

TAXI

Ken took a sharp glimpse at his watch, examining the second hand that quickly moved over the numbers. Minutes were flying by. He clutched at the tournament itinerary, feeling his right leg shake with great impatience. With a scowl, he peered over at the driver, wondering what the holdup was. Hearing Eliza sigh, he reached out to hold her hand but she shook him off, remaining in the small corner of the taxi. She was tense and angry.

Days turned into weeks and weeks had turned into months. Now their unborn child was four months growing. Eliza couldn't believe how insensitive Ken had become. They were having another baby, after fourteen years, and a simple smile from Ken could not be called a celebration. Surely, learning about this new arrival should have encouraged him to drop the tournament completely, and focus on her for a change.

She sighed again, thinking how she couldn't do this alone, not for the second time. Her sister, Julia, acted as Ken's surrogate, but ultimately it was his responsibility to be involved and look after her. Perhaps this baby would change nothing.

The driver, a Russian, cranked up the radio a little louder despite the crackling distortion. The Hip Hop song was barely audible, but he enthusiastically bopped his head up and down to the booming bass.

"Hip hop, cool," the driver yelled over the noise. "My father hate this music. Too crap. I thought too but I feel like young man again." His large shoulders heaved as he chuckled to himself.

"Great," Ken said to his wife with sarcasm. She was plainly ignoring him. "The last thing I need is bad music."

Eliza stared out of the window. The street was packed with young men who had unkempt hair and grimy clothes. Buildings around them had been destroyed by vandalism and only old rusty cars littered the roads. She shook her hair so that it fell over her forehead a little more. It made her uncomfortable to see women dressed in tight shiny outfits that hardly fit. She rubbed over her bare arms, feeling vulnerable at the sight of them, and forced herself to look away, only to notice the driver leering at her through the mirror. His sleazy gaze was riveted to her swollen breasts.

"Not like young men in world today," the driver continued to no one in particular. "Those stupid dolboeb kids make America bad. No consideration for people, think they own everything. Don't wrong me, boss, but Russia is worse now. I still love America. Sometimes it bad. Stupid people fake me and don't pay. One mudak kid, little bastard, hit my head with lead pipe. I got no insurance. My wife was mad."

Ken ignored him completely, still irritated by the sound of his croaky voice and the bass. Now he wished he had hired a car to drive into this dilapidated town, rather than rely atypically on taxis with unknown drivers. At least then, he would have had the luxury of choosing his own music, and driving in style. Eliza looked distressed and he should have been doubly careful when thinking of her safety, especially now.

Ken smoothed his mouth with his hands several times, feeling troubled. He tried to reach over to his wife again, but she gave no reaction to his touch. The swell was unmistakable under her turtleneck sweater.

"I'm so sorry, honey," Ken whispered, gently rubbing over her bump. "I should have paid more attention."

"Yeah, you should have," she snapped. "Seriously, why can't I ever have a normal pregnancy? You were too busy training for the first World Warrior tournament when I found out about Mel. See a pattern here, hot shot?"

Ken dropped his head in shame, shrugging. "You should have just told me."

"How?" Her eyes were wide in alarm. "You get so wrapped up in your own world sometimes, it becomes too difficult to pull you out."

Ken pursed his lips, stroking Eliza's lean fingers.

"How the hell didn't you notice?" she said, failing to conceal her anger.

"I donno," he shrugged, unable to meet her gaze. "Guess that explains your mood swings."

"Surprise! You're gonna be a daddy again..." Eliza said, putting on an exaggerated toothy smile that seemed unnatural on her. She sounded like a TV trivia host. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"No," Ken said, lifting his shoulders again. "Well, maybe. I donno. Liz, I'm so--"

"Don't you dare say you're sorry, Ken Masters," she warned him, pointing a stern finger at him. "I'm pregnant with your child. This must be your last fight."

The seriousness in her voice finally made Ken look at her. Guilt clawed away at his heart.

"You don't wanna miss her being born, do you, with all your touring?" she said. This time she was smiling broadly. She felt Ken's hand grip tight around hers, his face lit up with astonishment.

"WHAT? We're having a... a girl?" he tried to say as normally as possible, but was unable to control the rasping emotion in his voice.

Eliza nodded in excitement, welcoming Ken's positive reaction. Finally.

He pulled his wife to him in a firm hug, kissing the side of her face. Eliza felt something wet on her cheek, then heard Ken take a deep intake of breath. He was crying. He was actually crying. She smiled.

"Better late than never," she said, relieved by Ken's warm sentiment. Tears formed in her eyes.

"Hey, congrats," the driver bellowed over the loud music. "I have two daughters and four sons. Never too old to spice up marriage."

Ken coughed feebly, shaking himself from the momentary burst of emotion. He held Eliza's white face in his hands, smoothing over her cheek before kissing her.

"I was thinking of Celes," she said warmly, pulling Ken's hand to her chest. "Or Cassandra, after my grandmother."

She watched Ken nod as he contemplated the suggestion.

"Hhmm, Celes Masters," he tried it out. "Cassandra Masters. Cassie Celes Masters."

Eliza's eyes shone with eagerness but her smile dropped when Ken looked at her sternly.

"What?" she challenged him. "You hate it, don't you?"  
She sat back into the seat, pouting slightly. Ken pulled her back to him, and kissed her again. This time, slower. Eliza wanted to laugh. She wasn't expecting to feel a strong surge of happiness completely overwhelm her. It was almost uncanny.

"Cici. We can call her Cici for short," Ken finally said with a smile. Eliza felt her shoulders relax.

"Okay, we'll do it," she smiled back. "And the name means heavenly."

"Oh, mamma, you're heavenly," Ken beamed before launching into a passionate kiss.

"No hanky panky in my cab," the driver shouted jokingly, but he was clearly ignored. "Oh, those stupid thieving kids are back," the man continued, warily watching a group of young men on the sidewalk who leered back at him with dangerous eyes.

"They need to be hit in the face. Dumb kids, make my job difficult," the driver yelled, not caring whether his guests were attentive or not. "Mudak, all of them mudak."

The driver turned around so that he had a clear view of the couple, keeping his hands affixed to the steering wheel.

"It's them, the assholes," he yelled to Ken, who resumed in his seat, unnerved by the driver's sudden outburst. "I should go outside my cab and empty their pockets. Like compensation. Or sue like American style. He made me bleed. Wife was very very angry."

Ken stared at him unimpressed, which forced the driver to face forward again.

"I got, umm, what you call it, concussion or something like that," he tapped his head looking into the mirror to meet Eliza's gaze.

The cab driver suddenly stopped talking. He had been made breathless by Eliza's beauty. Her sharp blue eyes were wandering over into the sight of the street. Her long blonde hair rested elegantly over her shoulder, and her radiant skin was enough to brighten up the interior of the cab. He licked his lips, carefully looking at Eliza's pink lips in the reflection of the rear view mirror. He envisioned kissing her, with her lipstick smeared all over his face.

The car croaked loudly, followed by a series of honks by passers-by. He had forgotten to shift gears.

"Keep up, Grandpa," Ken bellowed, as he fiddled with his Blackberry. "Slow us down anymore and you lose out on your tip."

"Yes boss," the driver replied assertively, pulling himself out of his fantasy. "This is new cab, boss, modern techno--"

"And keep your thoughts to yourself, will ya," Ken interrupted, shaking his head disapprovingly. Eliza gave an uneasy smile.

"Boss, ostyn' okay, chill out. Look, crazy queue up front. I'm trying hard to get you to Mirror Tale. Don't take it out on Alexsandr. Jesus."

The Blackberry beeped once. The message was sent. At least now, Ken had a bodyguard arranged for Eliza while he fought in the ring. She was more than capable to look after herself, especially as the wife of a martial artist, but with her current condition, he didn't want to take any chances.

"Miss," the driver started again, looking into his mirror. "I don't want to be rude but, Jesus, you are beautiful."

"Come again?" Ken said, giving him a harsh look. He held onto Eliza protectively.

"Honey," Eliza whimpered, but the driver spoke over her.

"Compliment, boss. You have the good taste," he smiled into the mirror, straightening up to catch more of Eliza.

He adjusted the mirror lower so that he was able to observe her better. The tops of her breasts were now fully showing. He quietly sniggered, then suddenly squealed. The car came to a harsh halt.

With his bare hands, Ken had clenched the driver's jaw shut, pulling him close to his face. The driver sputtered, spitting at Ken's face in fear. His cheeks ached with the pressure of Ken's fingers.

"Don't you EVER look at my wife like that, do you hear me, jackass?" Ken's voice was edgy and menacing. "No one leers at my wife. Understood?"

He glared into the man's dark eyes threateningly. The driver nodded in total submission.

"Glad we got that straightened out," Ken said, then released the driver, leaving pale finger marks on his stubby face.

"Now drop us round the corner. You've made me late."

"Ye...Yes boss," the driver stuttered, too afraid to look anywhere but straight ahead.

In disgust, Ken wiped his hands on his jeans. He signaled for Eliza to get out of the vehicle. She leapt out without hesitation, struggling to reunite with her husband.

Without conscious effort, the driver looked at her. The view of Eliza's butt was even more gorgeous than he had anticipated.

"Hey buddy?" he heard Ken say, and as he turned toward him the driver felt his eyes water. Bursts of blood splashed his hand.

Ken's fist smashed into his face.

Stepping out of the vehicle, Ken threw a small wad of cash into the driver's lap.

"That's for your wife. Call it, compensation."

The driver stepped hard onto the gas pedal, and fled leaving tire marks.

"Asshole," Ken spat out, taking a firm grasp around Eliza's waist. "Now we have to walk there."

*****

Chapter 28:

ALL WARMED UP

It was unbearable to breathe in such a toxic atmosphere. Dim hues of smoke sifted from the hot floodlights that dangled from the ceiling. Leveled seats were filled with drunken spectators, who shouted obscenities at the main action brought on by the excitement of watching a live fight.

Guy ignored the disruptive noise around him, and nervously watched Rena scuttle away from him. She wasn't going far and having her back turned wasn't enough to make him feel free to touch Maki, who stood just an arm's length away. The embrace would be short, he thought to himself anxiously, but simply holding her would set off an insatiable urge to take her. His heart fluttered uncomfortably. He didn't trust himself to be adequately cautious with Rena so close by. She was just a tiny speckle in the crowd now, but she would be coming back.

Shaking, Guy squeezed a water bottle over his face, running his hand briskly through his damp hair. The heat was enough to cause shimmering hallucinations, and that was the last thing he needed. He had to keep cool, levelheaded, and able to perform at his best.

Suddenly his body jerked from the feel of a hand cupping his butt cheek. Maki smiled beside him, her arms now folded into her chest. Guy gulped. Her momentary touch was too much for him.

"On edge, are we?" Maki said, licking her lips with a sparkling fresh coat of saliva.

Despite his great efforts to keep away from her, he felt himself drawn forward. He looked over Maki's shoulder into the messy crowd. All eyes were gazing at center stage where the Turkish brawler and Korean martial artist fought defensively. Rena was nowhere to be seen, completely consumed by the barrage of filthy shouting men in the distance.

"Being in a muggy room with hot sweaty men fighting...kinda intoxicating, don't ya think?" Maki said in her best husky voice.

"Seriously, Maki, we can't here," Guy whimpered, pushing her off gently.

"It never stopped you before. Remember the Alpha Tournament? Rena was only a few yards away."

"And we almost got caught."

"Ha! Almost." Maki winked.

Guy clenched his jaw tight, wishing he didn't feel captive of her touch. "Not before the fight, Maki. I'm up next and I need complete focus."

She stole the towel off Guy's shoulder and dabbed her wet neck with it slowly, with intention.

"Oh, I know," she said, dipping her head low. She looked up at him flirtatiously. "The thrill of starting a fight," Maki tried again, this time catching his face with a sweaty hand, "is a totally sexy thought."

She leaned over to kiss him. Her cool breath was a pleasant change from the asphyxiating air he was breathing. "You'll have your fun," she moaned, in between their kisses. "Let me have mine."

With a thrusting effort, Guy lifted her up to the wall with his hands resting brazenly on her chest. Their lips locked tight with desperation and urgency. It had been too long since they touched each other, and her teasing had become too torturous. She gasped, grabbing tightly with her legs around Guy's waist.

The hotel room they had stayed in the night before was hardly luxurious. With only one room available, they all had to share it. Maki had jealously watched Rena bask into Guy's bed. Now, in her sister's short absence, Maki's fit of passion was pure revenge.

She ignored the heat from the large panel, gasping loudly as Guy caressed her nape with his moist wet lips. People were too busy watching the fight on stage to be concerned with the couple making out against the big screen. Their panting grew faster and more frantic.

"Damn it, this is way too hard," Guy groaned, having no control of his hands.

"Just take it off," Maki demanded, struggling to unclasp the button of her jeans.

Guy stifled laughter, feeling his arms tremble with Maki's full weight on them. She gripped both hands over the buckle, tugging and pulling. Her determination was admirable, if the circumstance wasn't so ridiculous.

"You gonna help me at all?" she yelled in frustration, ripping at his belt strap. Her eyebrows were furrowed with apparent irritation and the desperation in her voice was clear.

"Oh forget it," she sighed, steadying her feet back onto the hard ground, then pushing Guy against the panel.

"Maki," he said, but his murmur was drowned by the howls and yells of the crowd. The audience got to their feet, stamping with anticipation, as the mighty Turkish brawler pounded his punches into his opponent. A few seconds later, the harsh tone of the bell rang twice in quick succession.

"MAKI!" Guy bellowed. His mind panicked, pushing her off. Her large, dark eyes went to his, looking hurt.

"What're you doing?" her voice trembled, uncharacteristically weakened by the fluttering emotions she felt.

Her face dropped, disappointed by this unexpected end, but the reason for Guy's action soon became clear. Maki heard the despicably cheery tone of her sister's voice that made her spine tingle.

"Thought you'd like this," Rena said with a bright smile, passing a bottle of beer to Maki.

She gripped the neck of the bottle automatically, her body shaking with frustration. She suppressed a smile, looking down at Guy's waist. He had been quick to bunch a towel over himself. Taking a quick swig of beer, her face contorted unpleasantly.

"Yeah sorry," Rena said sympathetically. "The beer is cheap, so it doesn't taste that good, but I'm sure we'll get used to it after a few more."

Maki sighed looking at the four bottles that were cradled in her sister's arms. One bottle was more than enough to get a small Japanese woman drunk.

"Beer?" Guy said, taking one from Rena for inspection. "But you hate beer."

Rena smiled at Maki, whose cheeks were flushed pink.

"Yeah," she agreed, "but I want to make sure that Maki and I are your loudest cheer leaders. These," she said raising a bottle into the air, "will help us."

Maki rolled her eyes, dropping the empty bottle near her feet. She hated beer too, but needed a little distraction.

"You okay, hubby? You look a little pale," Rena said, stroking his cheek.

"I'm fine," he said, swatting her hand away. "Just tense I guess. It's been a while since I fought like this."

Rena laughed. "The great ninja, nervous? That doesn't sound like you."

Guy smiled, kicking the dusty ground with his red sneakers. Then he froze, feeling Rena's cold lips on his. Her face looked so different up close. Sparkling white eye shadow swept across her lids and her freshly shaped eyebrows plucked a little too thin. He gulped, pushing back the revulsion he felt for her. The stench of the beer on her breath almost made him gag.

"A kiss for luck," Rena beamed with a toothy grin. "Not that you need it really. Right, Maki?"

Maki convulsed at the mention of her name. As usual, her over-affectionate sister had taken away her pleasure. _Selfish bitch_ , Maki thought sourly. She couldn't even look at Rena right now.

Hurriedly, she took another guzzle of beer, dripping some over her clothes. She wished she could pour the nasty drink all over her sister's dark hair, and snatch Guy away. That should stop her from smiling. "Yeah," Maki said without listening. "Whatever."

The loud thud of the fallen Turk amplified across the stadium. His head banged hard against the floor. Dust sprang to the air from his impact. The Korean fighter froze in his stance, dumbfounded that he had won. The stadium resounded with fresh screams and bountiful yells.

"Okay, okay break it up now," Maki finally snapped, tearing the couple apart. "Shouldn't we go take our seats? I bet a fat trucker has already warmed it up for us. Needa use all our energy to push the beast off."

Guy's attention momentarily escaped to the main arena. He watched the bleeding Turk dragged away by two burly men. He unscrewed the cap of his water bottle and splashed the last drops over his head. The stage lay empty for his big debut.

*****

Chapter 29:

FINAL FIGHT

"My final fight," Ken said quietly, looking at his wife's beautiful face before his mind was enveloped by the thought of the fight alone. It was too difficult to shake off the concern so soon after finding out about his new daughter. He almost didn't want to leave them now.

"I better make this a good one, then."

Tugging at his black martial arts belt, Ken made his way down through the crowd, slapping hands and screaming, "Woo, yeah!" with a smug grin. He felt his adrenaline lift as the noisy crowd jeered at him. He loved every moment of the howls, and taunted with his finger and danced on the steps to the stage. He didn't care what they were yelling, it didn't matter.

"I see the party hasn't started," he screamed into the boisterous booing audience, cocking an exaggerated eyebrow at them.

As he walked onto the stage, Ken took a final look at himself. His red gi, the same style as Ryu's, looked bloodier than ever.

Having noticed Ken's arrival, the ringleader announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Mirror Tale Stadium, where you have journeyed to witness tonight's main event! Let the battle commence between two of our homegrown fighters from this great country, the United States of America. Let's go for broke!"

Ken paused, his eyes focused on the face of his adversary. Taut brown face, sculpted black hair, small serious eyes, and the unmistakable ninja outfit which was the same color as his uniform. The face brought Ken a faint childhood memory, but nothing immediate came to mind. He tried to read the broad black kanji on the other fighter's chest, but he couldn't quite make out the characters.

"Presenting America's legion champion, KEN MASTERS!"

The audience leapt out of their seats, jeering and cheering him on to the stage. Ken shook himself out of his trance, mechanically rolling against the sandy pit to further excite the crowd.

"And tonight's special opponent, America's finest Bushin Ninja, GUY!"

Guy's heart thumped with fierce intensity as the crowd hummed in his ears like a shrieking clarinet. He used his index finger to calm his pulsing temple, then opened his eyes, breaking the image of the blue tornado that he envisioned himself to be. The bell rang in a short sequence and the hot lights of the cameras shone on them, but for a second neither of them moved.

Guy gulped as he saw Ken staring oddly back at him. His features were just the same as Guy remembered, well built and confident-looking. Ken raised his dark eyebrows at him as his frown melted into a smug grin.

"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in," Ken yelled, jumping on the balls of his feet with his fist half-unclenched at his side. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

Guy nodded back at him, his face serious. An image of Gouken's dojo appeared in his mind. The wooden house was shadowed by overgrown green trees, a short distance away from the lake where Guy had met the Shotokan boys. Even back then, Ken was cocky.

So this is a reunion of some sort, this will be interesting, Guy thought respectively. He took a few deep breaths in the muggy air before he could find his voice.

"I would have never guessed my final fight would be met by you," Guy said, humbling himself into his stance. "At least now I expect a decent match."

Ken smiled at the comment. "It's not smart dressing in red, buddy," he hollered back, massaging his knuckles. "You're cramping my style."

Guy froze in his stance, waiting for Ken to launch an attack. He knew Ken's fighting technique well. Ken's flash and quick style was a little too similar to his.

"C'mon," Guy said, relaxing his shoulder for a friendly handshake. "Let's give the crowd something to really talk about."

They shook.

"Let's," Ken agreed with him, smiling. "After all these years, my friend. Just remember, a thin line separates us. I call it 'talent'."

The sole of Ken's foot dug into the dirt as he made a sprint toward Guy. Quick to notice the movement, Guy hurled his weight forward, leaping into the air with a solid kick, flying past his opponent. As he landed, he quickly blocked the spin kick Ken administered behind him, tried to grab him, but only felt empty air. Guy felt his back crack, then his face exploded with pain. Ken was punching left, right and low. He was fast, faster than Guy had remembered. Ken smirked that cocky arrogant smirk - but his face dropped. Guy quickly pummeled a fist into his tight stomach.

Ken winced, bending back to see Guy's leg swish past his nose.

Their speed created a vacuum of dust. Guy snapped a punch forward. Ken ducked but felt his face crushed by Guy's knee. Shaking the pain off, Ken jumped high into the air, smacking Guy on the shoulder with a kick. Ninja's move like shadows, and Ken knew he had to wear his opponent down before the fight was his. As he spiraled down, Ken's kicks continued, sucking Guy into a whirlpool until he had little balance to stand.

"Keep moving, ninja," Ken spat, blocking a quick sidekick. "You can't outrun me."

Guy furrowed his eyebrows, trying to look for a real opening from which to strike his opponent. He hadn't expected Ken to be powerful too, and he felt his arm deaden from blocking. Now he regretted not letting Maki hit him with her baton while they trained. During their recovery, his muscles would have tightened.

"You can't beat what you can't touch," Ken smirked, driving a short uppercut under Guy's chin, followed by a butt that left them both momentarily dizzy.

Guy hobbled backward, grabbing his jaw. He had to keep an eagle eye on his opponent. He didn't dare close his eyes. He followed Ken around the stage with a foot's distance of a gap. He needed the space to direct his kicks and throws, and he'd be damned if his space was invaded.

Ken balanced himself onto a roundhouse kick, but missed delivering a sharp strike to Guy's open chest.

"You didn't see that coming?" Guy mocked, but Ken only laughed, and quickly brought him to his knees with a sudden ankle sweep.

"You've got a lot to learn before you can beat me, Guy. Get up," he demanded.

The crowd screamed a hounding roar. It was as though the stadium was on fire, a conflagration created by the energy the fighters generated on the stage. Rena screamed at Guy, her face full of frenzied encouragement as she jumped out of her seat. Maki did exactly as her sister, but her heart burned with great disappointment.

"GET UP, GUY. YOU CAN DO IT!" Rena shrieked, feeling her throat go coarse and achy with her unending shrill cries. "DADDY WOULD BE PROUD!"

"Dad wouldn't be proud," Maki scowled, annoyed by her sister's fake support. "He isn't doing anything we've practiced."

"Of course he is," Rena said defensively, grabbing onto the front of her brown dress. "He did that kick thing, didn't he?"

"Oh, shut up. You don't know the first thing about fighting. We've trained hard for him to win, but he's obviously not 'with it'."

Hurt by the comment, Rena fell silent, watching Guy chase Ken with a perfect cross counter. "I think you're too harsh on him," she whimpered, pretending to take another sip of beer from the half-empty bottle.

"You clearly haven't seen him train alone, have you?" Maki said, punching the air aggressively as she shadowed Guy's techniques with her eyes. "NOOO!" she yelled, angry. "That was the perfect opportunity for the _Kyuteishi_."

Rena grabbed her sister's arm, feeling pained by Guy taking in a few more hits. "Can you be honest with me?" she heard herself say, but Maki wasn't listening, she was too involved with watching the match.

"Ouch! What's wrong with you?" Maki barked, rubbing her arm from Rena's sudden harsh pinch.

"Your relationship with Guy is totally platonic, right?" Rena asked.

Maki pretended she didn't hear the remark, but felt her heart choke in panic. She kept her eyes fixed on the stage.

"You spend so much time together. I can't help but feel left out," Rena said plainly, slowly chewing on her upper lip. She looked genuinely sad.

Maki tried to think quickly. "Yeah," she managed to say, in an unconvincing tone. "We're just training buds." Like Rena, Maki chewed on her lip.

"We've been engaged for years. What's he waiting for? Why doesn't he marry me already?"

"Do we have to do this now?" Maki said angrily.

"Look at him on stage, getting beaten up by that man. It makes me feel sick. I hate it. I hate it all."

Maki nodded her head, pretending she understood. Unlike Rena, Maki loved to fight, to grow strong as a woman and make men quiver before her. Having power made her feel invincible. Perhaps Genryusai would be more willing to see Guy married off to her, rather than force it upon Rena. Given the circumstances, this would be a great opportunity to tell Rena about their affair, but for the time being her focus was completely on the fight.

"If we marry," Rena yelled above the noise, "and he comes home injured, what am I going to do? If he wanted to be with me, he would have married me years ago. I hate this long engagement. Maki, I have a secret to tell you." Rena pursed her lips for a second, watching Maki's brow furrow deeper.

"Spit it out, will ya?" Maki yelled, angry that she was missing Guy's big fight because of this exchange with her sister. Something else she had to ruin!

"I'm going to call it off," Rena said, tears streaming down her pale face. "He's better off being with you."

Then she squeezed Maki's hands.

"I'll persuade Daddy to marry you guys. You can grow to love Guy like the way Guy grew to love me."

Maki tore away from her sister in order to gaze at the stage. An eruption of barrack filled the stadium as Ken and Guy wrestled in a huddle.

"Why are you telling me this now?" she demanded, gesturing to Guy on stage.

"Just be with him, Maki," Rena almost begged. "Here..." she said, slipping her engagement ring onto her sister's finger. "...It belongs to you now."

Shocked, Maki gazed at the silver band on her finger. "This is crazy. Do you know what you're saying?"

"He's yours if you tell me you want to be with him," Rena choked, wiping tears away from her half-smiling face.

The ring fit perfectly, as if it had been made for her. Rena sometimes complained that the ring was a little too big. Perhaps it had belonged to Maki all along. She looked at Rena with little trust, all the while trying hard to control the thunderous rhythm of her heart.

She felt Rena's hand squeeze tightly for an answer, but before she could decide on her words, Maki blurted out "I love him," unable to stop herself. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears, and she felt them stinging her cheek.

"I knew it," Rena said in a small voice, impulsively slapping Maki in the face again. "Whore! You and him, behind my back. I knew it all along," she yelled, trying to steal back the ring from Maki's sweaty fingers. Then she hit her again. She flailed wildly, slapping and punching, calling Maki a bitch, her face blotchy, wet, and shaky. Maki didn't move.

On the stage, Guy huffed, balancing his weight on his good leg. Ken had definitely got stronger over the years. Guy's injuries were proof enough, but a sprained ankle was hardly an excuse to lose this match. Swallowing saliva, Guy dashed forward to drop a flying elbow. He thrust an uppercut, then tried to stamp his foot into Ken's shin, but he missed.

"Now for the home run," Ken said, shifting into his famous fighting position.

Spinning on his toe, he swiveled to drive a string of powerful roundhouse kicks. A fierce vortex of fire followed behind him with each kick that intensified in power. Guy ducked the first kick, and the second, but Ken's technique sucked him, trapped. Ken hopped onto his other foot then continued the modified hurricane kick until the sole of his foot became sore.

Guy crashed to the ground, coughing out copious amount of dust clouds that entered into his mouth. He could feel a mixture of fluids making its way out of his throat.

Ken hobbled on the landing, pleased to hear the raging crowd on the left. "And that's the power of Shotokan. Next time, I won't be so easy on ya," Ken hollered for the sake of the cameras.

He lifted his arm to the victory, smiling weakly in search for his wife in the crowd, but the lights in the stadium suddenly blinked on and off in rapid succession. A shattering crash filled the room. Sprinkled glass showered over the crowd as light bulbs exploded in a domino effect.

"What the..." Ken gasped, shocked.

The screams from the crowd converged into a sudden unified screech. In the darkness, he turned to where he thought Guy would be but saw a harsh strobe of light in front of him. A darkened face blocked his view, smiling widely at him, teeth almost glowing in the shadows. The dark aura hit Ken hard in the chest, totally drowning his senses. There was no time to react. Instead, a quick flash of light overcame him.

*****

Chapter 30:

CONFESSION

Ryu sat on the chair, leaning heavily with his hands on his knees. Only small gaps of light crept into the darkness as he lifted his hands to his face. His fingers squeezed, relaxed, squeezed, relaxed, massaging the bridge of his nose. He was furious. And devastated. How could he have let his friends fall into Akuma's hands? How could he have failed someone else so close to him?

He rocked on the wooden chair for a moment, grabbing his short hair roughly in between his fingers. It was clear from the moment he had laid eyes on Ken's death-like state that the _Raging Demon_ had been freed on him. He knew that each of its strikes to the body causes an internal explosion, like a million fireballs pulsating through every hairline. Of course, Ryu would know. He was its victim too. He had felt its evil punishment during his last fight with Akuma. Uncomfortably, he thumbed the thick skin over his heart. He could still feel the scar on his chest. It was a horrible reminder of when Akuma pummeled his fist through him, one dangerous strike after another.

Ryu heard a terrible scream. Jolted by the intensity, he was stunned before he remembered it was Ken. He still wasn't used to it. By the sounds of his friend's anguished cries pressing through the walls of the house, Ryu knew he was fighting to survive.

He found it puzzling that Ken was able to scream at all. Pressure points inflicted on his skull and neck had caused many of Ken's irregularities, disabilities of adeptness at speaking or responding normally. Perhaps having placed him in the biggest room wasn't the best idea. The large size only amplified his terror-filled shrieks, even to the top floor where Ryu was hiding.

Deeply, he breathed into his hands, unsteadily settling himself back on the chair. His jaw popped and flexed as he succumbed to his memories.

"My husband...Ken. You have to come. Ryu, p...pl...please I can't f...find him any...wh...where," Eliza sobbed over the phone moments after the fight was over.

"It's okay, Eliza. I'll find him. Where are you?"

"I do...doon...don't know. So...some place in Ohio – Mi...Mirror Tale Ss...Ss...Stadium, that's a...all I know. Oh my God, Ryu, he's gone, b...b...blood everywhere, and, and Guy, I think he's de...de..." Eliza burst into tears.

"Guy?" Ryu choked upon hearing the opponent's name. "I'll get there as soon as I can."

"Ke...Ken's...pilot...Talk to Maa...Malcolm, speed dial 3, use the j...jet plane."

Ryu rocked a little faster, unable to stop the flashbacks from attacking. He had only managed to find Ken because of an eminent dark aura he felt behind the backstage of Mirror Tale. Judging by the blood trail, Ken had been dragged from the main stage and left there to suffer while the paramedics rushed to Guy's aid.

Ryu had been so afraid of what he would find that he trembled. He had discovered Ken in a position very similar to his dead Master. Ken's dark brown eyes had turned the dull murky gray of distance and lifelessness. Ryu frantically bunched a t-shirt against his friend's broken chest, yelling at him to keep awake, but Ken fell unconscious uttering Akuma's name.

Ryu knew that no one survives the _Raging Demon_. Not usually. If the _Raging Demon_ was unable to kill any of Gouken's students, that meant Akuma was failing. Even if it didn't save Gouken, the act of selflessness was their tact.

"Loyalty and family get in the way of victory," Akuma used to say.

"Maybe I do have too much to lose to be a great fighter," Ken once confessed to Ryu.

"Ken, what if the opposite is true? Maybe you're complete now because you have a son to fight for," Ryu had reminded him.

"Akuma has many people in league with him," Ken's voice echoed in his mind, a small pathetic smile of disagreement painted on his face. "And maybe _she's_ one of them."

Ryu looked up, confused by the thoughts that consumed him. Ken's hellish screams kept piercing through the corridors.

"It couldn't be her," he spoke aloud, struggling to comprehend Tawnya Blaze at all.

He breathed harshly, shivering with the mere thought of her. Then he sighed in exhaustion. Ever since meeting Tawnya, Ryu hadn't slept. Whenever he was unable to shut off his mind, he would watch over Sakura while she slept. He was careful not to leave a trace of his presence in the room.

His fatigue had been apparent then, but now, after what had happened to Ken, Ryu sat there with an unshaven face, looking far worse than ever.

"RYU SENSEI!" Sakura yelled, sprinting into the room looking flustered.

The stress in her voice made Ryu look up. He watched her approach him in an awkward jog, her face overcome with worry. He bolted upright, his eyes red and his face anguished. She wore a plain black t-shirt and blue denim shorts that made her legs look long. Sometimes, he forgot that Sakura was a grown woman despite her schoolgirl demeanor. He wanted to smile upon seeing her, but struggled to without squirming.

"Ryu Sensei," she blurted, unable to calm herself down.  
She gripped her knees, then shook her head, out of breath. It was harder to find Ryu in Ken's big house. She had searched everywhere, from the first floor on up, until finally discovering him way up here, in the last room on the every top floor.

This room was much smaller than the other guest room, with two dark mahogany cupboards that complemented the warm sand-colored walls. The fuchsia orchid on the Italian study desk was slightly wilting in a way that looked exactly like Ryu.

He was looking down at her now.

"What's wrong?" he asked, with a failed attempt to sound upbeat.

For a moment, Sakura contemplated whether to sit on the hard marble floor, or on the bed. Watching Ryu flinch at Ken's scream, she instinctively kneeled in front of him. Her hand ran over his wrist, caressing the skin there in hope that it would calm his panic-stricken face.

"Check this out," Sakura said, waving a palm-sized card in his face. The image blurred as she shook it. "This handy little thing was the tournament invitation Ken received. Eliza just gave it to me."

Ryu examined it, puzzled by what she meant. The card was embossed with a dark rose, with information in small black print that also formed the stems and the thorns. He couldn't make out the words in his sleep-deprived state.

"The owner of the card is Rose," Sakura continued, squeezing Ryu's hand. "Remember her? That weird psychic lady you met at the Alpha tournament?"

"Mystic Rose?" he mumbled, seeing a faint image of Rose at the back of the wall. Back when he first endured the Dark Hadou, Rose was the only person, other than Ken who helped him through his terrible torment. Her spirit was pure and her psychic ability was powerful. She had read her tarot cards for guidance. Ryu remembered her well.

"Umm, yeah," Sakura cut in, hoping that they were talking about the same person.

"This is Rose's card?" he repeated slowly.

"Yeah! She told me it was hers, moments before she warned me that psycho Blaze was going to fight m--"

"Wait," he commanded with authority. "Rose was present at the fight?"

"Well, yeah," Sakura said, as if this was common knowledge.

"And she warned you about Tawnya Blaze?"

"Sorta, if you understand poetry that is." Sakura twisted her face whimsically. "Isn't it weird that Ken and I have the same card? Hmmm, it's got me thinking, Rose might have some links to Fei Long."

"Fei Long?" he prompted, watching Sakura stiffen at the thought of his name. "How?"

Sakura squirmed, as if she didn't want to talk about something so uncomfortable. Her shoulders hunched, and she nervously weaved the card through her fingers. Ryu blinked, his expression unchanged.

With a deep sigh, she hung her head loose, tightening the white headband around her forehead. She glanced up at him from under her lashes, wanting him to break the silence, but her impatience made her wail out, "It's all my fault!"

"You mustn't say that," he responded, patting her tensed-up shoulder, but Sakura hid her face in shame.

"It is," her voice muffled into her palms. "I brought you and Tawnya Blaze closer together because of my article. And the sad thing is, I had no choice."

To Ryu's surprise, Sakura's eyes were watery when she revealed her face to him again. She took in a shaky deep breath.

"I had a card like this," she said, tapping the embossed card that rested on Ryu's lap. "It was waiting on my desk one day with a note that simply said 'F.L'. Of course, I didn't know what that meant until Fei Long came knocking on my door, a few days afterwards." She suddenly broke into a wavering smile.

"And of course, I had to let him in. I literally had a superstar waiting outside my bedroom. That'd excite any girl, right?"

She laughed nervously. "But he didn't come with good intentions. He knew I hated Tawnya Blaze the moment I saw your name carved on her arm..."

She trailed off, chewing at an already misshapen fingernail. As Ryu held still, waiting patiently for her to continue, a knot of nerves hit her hard in the gut.

"I told Tawnya Blaze to forget about you or else I would write something nasty about her in _LA Express_. Fei Long probably read the letters I sent her and tracked me down somehow. After buttering me up with flowers and candy, he told me to write the article as planned and to specifically mention you both, or else he would have me deported to Japan."

She felt Ryu's hand tighten around her fingers. She gulped, not wanting to talk anymore, but the words flooded out in rapid Japanese.

"I didn't wanna get deported. Ryu Sensei, I had to write it, I just had to. I wasn't ready to leave America. I didn't wanna return to my stinking life in Japan, washing dishes and living on ramen. And you weren't in my life there, which totally sucked. And I couldn't stand my parents telling me to go back to school. They don't understand that at my age, people would laugh at me. And when Fei Long came into my home and said all those things, of course I thought, shoot, I don't wanna make an enemy out of Fei Long of all people--"

"Ken was attacked by the _Raging Demon_ at a tournament that Rose had invited him to." Ryu interrupted so sharply that Sakura stammered on her last word. She was panting, and feeling her heart drum horrendously.

"Umm," she thought for a moment. "Maybe this was Fei Long's tournament. Everyone knows how he loves hosting real fights after completing a film."

She watched him, his face non-committal. Waiting for a response, she chewed on her nails again.

"If you were in my shoes, what would you have done?" she mumbled. Silence. "Okay, that was a stupid question, 'cause I know you would have gone back to Japan rather than get bullied into an evil plan like I did."

Still silent, Ryu shuffled onto the double bed. Sakura pressed her lips together, withholding mindless comments that were surely making him angry. She watched his chest rise up and down ever so gently as he stared at the high white ceiling.

The corner of Sakura's mouth tightened with pale dots. Finally she blurted, "Oh please say something, Ryu Sensei. This is totally eating me up."

His gaze turned from the ceiling to her. The longer he stared at her, the greater the level of intensity in his eyes. The information Sakura had given to him was churning.

"I think it's about time we paid Fei Long a visit. But first I have to make sure that Guy is okay."

He bunched a pillow under his head, and then he closed his eyes, missing Sakura's look of shock. She had thought Ryu would be angry at her for what she had done to him. She had been waiting for him to scold her.

But no. She could see that he was done talking.

"Wait a second," she said, almost shouting. "That's all you have to say to me?"

His cheeks lifted slightly at her expected outburst.

"It won't be long till you can practice your fighting techniques on a real target," he said, smiling with his eyes closed.

Within minutes, Ryu fell asleep.

*****

Chapter 31:

RACE

The wind was low, the sun was high in the sky. Mel hated wind resistance, but today the weather was perfect to inclining on a hill at top speed. It had been two years since his father bought him his third Norco mountain bike, never satisfied with the type of speed his other bikes could generate. Mel desperately wanted _The Ultimate_ , the bicycle his hero Bruce Bursford nicknamed as he broke the world speed record, but he knew his weekly allowance was hardly enough to develop _Shore One_ to completely resist aerodynamic drag.

Mel growled, peddling harder up the hill. No matter how much power he put into pumping his legs, the _Shore One_ felt sluggish due to its weight. He downshifted a gear to help him accelerate, but only managed to pick up a two-mile speed. Pathetic.

Pushing his Oakley shades back to the bridge of his nose, he gripped the rubber handle bars tighter, forcing all his weight forward but struggling to maintain a steady balance. He eventually tired and lost speed.

"You ain't getting away that fast, Smelvin," Sean yelled, looming close behind him on Mel's older _CRR2_.

"Damn it!" Mel cursed, feeling foolish for not having taken a faster bike for this journey.

He hated that Sean was able to keep on his trail with such ease, even uphill. There was no way he was going to let Sean beat him on his track.

"Get outta my way, jerk," he yelled, trying to avoid Sean, who was riding too close now.

Sean looked like a blur of yellow, but the closer he got, the clearer was the ecstatic look on his brown face. From the corner of his eye, Mel watched him slowly overtake him, until he was at the top of the hill.

"Loser," Sean grinned, ringing the bell to taunt his young friend.

"You're not going to stop me, y'know," Mel bawled, squinting in pain as his crazed reddened knuckles tightened over the handlebars. "I'm gonna kill that guy for messin' with us.

Finally put some training into practice," he muttered to himself.

Ringing his bell back at Sean, Mel began the exciting descent. Whether or not the _CRR2_ was faster, nothing beat the speed the _Shore One_ could elicit when rolling down a steep hill. The skeleton-printed t-shirt stuck to his chest as the wind pressed against him.

"WOOOOOOO-HOOOOOOOO!" he screamed excitedly with a smile of thrill.

"Right behind ya, little fella," Sean yelled just as excitedly, soaring down the quiet street.

"WAAAAAA-HOOOOOOOO!" Mel screamed again as the bike slowed down.

His smile dropped. It suddenly dawned on him that he was on his way to meet his father's assailant. So what if he was only fourteen? He wasn't just another dumb rich American kid; he was the son of America's greatest fighter. Of course he was ready for his first fight, even against the only man who had managed to topple his father.

Mel swallowed hard as he imagined himself kicking the man in between the legs, then performing his father's signature " _Shoryu-ken"_ technique in the air. He pictured the man to have thick black hair and a tough lip with a ring through it; his hand would be big enough to crush a man's head. No one could beat his father unless he was a monster.

"One day, buddy, you're going to be the greatest martial artist America has ever seen," Mel remembered his father saying when he was a boy. "And your mother and I will have the biggest trophy waiting for you at home in your glory. It will say: Melvin Masters – Supreme Warrior."

"I don't think so, pal." Sean shook his head, skidding his bike to a halt in front of Mel's.

Too slow to react, Mel hurled forward, rolling across the road away from the bike. His head felt heavy and a burning sensation rippled across his knees and elbows.

"SEAN, what the...dude..." Mel hissed in pain as he held his elbow to his chest.

Sean dropped his bike on the sidewalk and rushed to Mel's side. His eyebrows lifted at the sight of Mel's blood, but he showed little remorse.

He yelled, "You think you could get away from me that easily, you stupid kid?" He swayed his arms at his side. "I can't let you do this, man. He's gonna eat you up alive."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Mel said bitterly. His face was full of malice, and he was muttering curses from the pain.

"Oh yeah," Sean shot back, his left fist ricocheting against his right palm. "You were punching the crap outta that tree last night for nothing, huh, putting on the tough act?"  
Gingerly, Mel examined his scabbing knuckles for a second before scrunching them into weak fists. Then he hid his hands and angrily looked up at Sean.

"D'ya really think this dude is gonna be threatened by a little kid like you? You're gonna end up looking worse than Ken."

With his pride a little hurt, Mel snapped, "Shut up." He picked himself up from the tarmac.

He needed some air, some real space, instead of curling into a closet in one of the eight empty bedrooms. He hated being at home with so many doctors and nurses rushing to his father's aid, while his mother pathetically hugged a cold wall. He wasn't going to stand back and do nothing, like Sean.

"Dude, what're you doing?" Sean said, watching Mel clench his fists in front of him. "Are you serious?"

"I'll show you what I got," he said, gritting his teeth. "If I can beat you, I can beat him too."

Sean gave a short sad laugh, and rubbed his hand over his face in dismay. "I ain't doing this, man."

"Scared you're gonna lose?" Mel growled, edging closer to him.

"No, this just ain't cool." But then Sean dashed forward and drove his head into Mel's midsection, and Mel tumbled back with the impact, falling harshly to the ground.

"Proof enough?" Sean said, stretching out his hand to lift him up.

"I'm fine," Mel miserably murmured, and straightened up.

"Dude, don't you think Ken getting beat makes me look bad? He's my teacher, man, my sensei. What am I gonna do while he's bedridden? Don't you think I'm feeling mad about it too?"

Sean looked stern. He had never considered himself a serious martial artist, even though he had tried hard to improve himself. He knew Ken had little faith in him, always following him when he had time off work. Despite this, Sean knew he must have had some talent to persuade a US Champion to tutor him in the first place. He had to prove Ken his worth.

"Let me tell you one thing, kiddo," Ken once said to him. He was waving his fist in front of Sean, who was knocked down to the ground. "You see this fist? It holds the power of Shotokan. You don't earn it, you're born with it. You'll be training a long time before you're infused by the same power I hold. With my intuition and your determination, I'm sure we could work a nifty little number out in no time.

"No matter what, kid," he finished, "you gotta keep trying."

"You know what, Mel?" Sean smiled, with a look of hope in his eyes. "Your dad's always had my back, and it's about time I did the same. You ain't doing this on your own though, Smelvin. I reckon we can take the dude out if we team up, Double Dragon style."

Sean picked up the bike and positioned himself on the seat, looking straight ahead. Mel followed suit.

"I'll race you down to the hospital," Sean winked, pointing to the end of the road. "The person who wins takes first shot at the monster."

Mel smiled, delighted. "Gotcha."

*****

Chapter 32:

COMA

Odors have a way of vividly bringing back memories. The smell of burning rice when Mother was busy chasing her little brother back into the house, the stench of sweat after a good laborious workout practicing routines learned from movies, the sweet fragrance of mandarin orange mineral salts melting in the hot bath, calming the mind and smoothing the aches in the body; all these were smells that Sakura would have been happy to take in, creating a keen sense of nostalgia that would transport her back in time. Anything was better than the occasional metallic scent of blood mixed with urine and chemicals, odors that can turn the strongest of stomachs. All hospitals had those smells.

Sakura blocked her nose with her hands, waiting for Ryu, bored stiff. Her hands looked delicate and fragile compared to the dried, tough hands she used to wear back in high school. Maybe with enough practice, she could knock Tawnya's teeth out for good, just like so many before her. Maybe now would be a good chance to challenge Sean when they returned home. The student of Ryu versus the student of Ken.

_That sounds so cool_ , Sakura thought, smiling aimlessly at the sudden image.

Her smile dropped when she caught an older Japanese woman watching her with an odd expression, as if she were a little crazy. A sense of loathing shadowed her white, tired face. She appeared to be waiting for someone, just as Sakura was. Feeling uncomfortable by the stare, Sakura quickly got to her feet and shuffled towards an isolated, dimly lit room in a scrambled search for Ryu.

"You not go there," the Japanese woman scolded in bad English with complete resentment. She pointed a threatening finger at Sakura. Her hair was up in a long messy ponytail that limply hung behind her dull red kimono shirt. Her shirt was tucked into black wrinkled trousers that made her look stumpy. Her wretchedness made Sakura want to look down on her.

"Do you work here or something?" she decided to ask, finding the strength to keep the conversation decent.

"No, my fiancé in there. He is in coma," Rena answered with a long sigh. She smoothed out her long hair with one sweep of her hand, in a conscious effort to smarten herself up.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Sakura said, feeling guilty to have judged her so harshly.

The poor woman must not have slept for days, she thought dimly. She was sure she would have looked and acted the same if Ryu was ever in that situation.

"Who are you seeing? I hope not bad," Rena pondered, trailing off into a whisper.

"Umm..." Now she felt really uncomfortable, not knowing what her purpose for being here was. She was at the hospital browsing patients? No, that sounded disturbing. Sakura struggled to think.

"I'm here to see a friend," she explained. "I heard he was in a fight and not in a good state. I thought it'd be nice to visit him."

"Sakura?" someone called out from behind her. Flashing an apologetic look, she fled toward the sound of Ryu's voice, thankful that he had come before she spoke too much, as usual.

"He's in there," Ryu directed with a nod, heading for the room Sakura had initially glanced into. He looked more alert and alive. "We have the girlfriend's permission to go in. But we have to be quick, okay?"

He led Sakura with a gentle pull on her arm, as if she was a blind woman in a cluttered room. As they walked through, Rena shouted with great urgency, "No, get out, get out!" Seeing her flustered and panicked, Ryu stopped.

"Who the hell are you?" Rena said, darting a spiteful look at Ryu, though intimidated by his stature.

He smiled gently as a gesture to calm the woman down, leaving Sakura to enter the room.

"I'm a friend of Guy," he spoke softly. "My name is Ryu."

"Ryu..." Rena muttered, having just recognized him from when they had first met. He looked much older, more confident and stronger, but with the same warm eyes she remembered. She suddenly found herself clutching at his chest and wailing harshly. Ryu gently tapped her on the back. Crying women made him uncomfortable, but he sensed the pain she was going through.

"Thank you so much," she said, her voice muffled against his chest, before pushing herself off in embarrassment.

"I had to see if your brother was okay. He's a good friend of mine," Ryu said. "And I brought my friend Sakura with me," he added, tilting his head in her direction.

Rena had stopped short upon hearing the word "brother".

"Brother?" she howled, as if he had uttered a foul word. "He...is...my...fiancé. My fiancé." She couldn't help but flash the engagement ring at him, almost to prove to herself that their relationship still existed. Her nails were long and her hand was sore with scratches.

"Ryu Sensei, who was the girlfriend you were talking to?" Sakura unthinkingly spoke up.

"Girlfriend?" Rena shrieked, grabbing her hand tightly in an ugly pinch, while looking left and right at the corridors. Sakura winced at her sudden movement.

"Are you there, Maki?" Rena called irritably, unable to control the tempo of her native tongue. "I warned you not to come, didn't I? I forbade you to enter the hospital grounds. I asked for one simple thing..." Seeing Rena shake, Ryu took a step forward.

"I'm sorry, I must have been mistaken," Ryu placated, switching to Japanese, wondering to whom he had been speaking to earlier and noting their physical resemblance. "Is it okay to see him?"

Rena didn't hesitate. In a wordlessly welcoming motion, she pushed past them to run to Guy's bedside. Ryu and Sakura followed.

As Guy breathed through the oxygen mask, the beeping blip on the heart rate machine leapt high on the screen then trailed into jagged little lines. Rena hated seeing him quiet and immobile, but she reminded herself that at least he was alive. His new heart was doing its job well, at least, for the time being. Feebly, she fingered the wedding band she had placed around Guy's finger. They weren't married, nor would they ever be, but that ring on his finger helped her to love him a little more in spite of the raw anger and betrayal she felt striking at her chest.

"How long has he been like this?" Ryu switched to Japanese, watching Guy inhale and exhale in a constant rhythm. He kept his movements to a minimum so as not to frustrate Rena.

"I dunno..." she murmured in Japanese, looking down at her shoes. "Ever since the fight, I guess. He's in a coma."

"Were you present at the fight?"

"Yes," she nodded quickly, "but I didn't see what happened at the end. The lights went out for a bit but when they returned, he was on the ground convulsing and bleeding."

Ryu shook his head. He monitored the screen and looked carefully at Guy's still face. He was unable to take his eyes off him. It was obvious that Ken and Guy had suffered different repercussions from the _Raging Demon_. The physical lacerations were similar, however, and the bandaged chest told him that Guy too had had a heart replacement.

"Did you see Ken at all?" Sakura asked Rena, looking at Guy with an assertive nod. Her reporter senses were tingling. She was glad that Ryu wasn't glaring at her. When she did something he didn't approve of, he tended to give her odd looks.

"Ken?" Rena replied blankly.

"The man Guy fought against, of course," Sakura said, astonished that Rena didn't know. Ryu glared at her now.

"Ken Masters is my best friend," he hesitantly admitted. "He was the other fighter at the tournament. Guy knows him well."

"Have you visited Ken yet?" Rena asked, slowly finding the courage to look up at Ryu.

"Yes," he simply said.

"Is he okay?"

"Yeaaaaah sure," Sakura sarcastically blurted out, pulling at the bottom of her yellow sweater. "He's fiiiiine!"

"Then he's lucky," Rena sighed, oblivious to Sakura's tone. Ryu looked at her again.

"Ken suffers from impaired consciousness," he explained with some regret. He didn't want to talk about Ken at all. "It means he's conscious, but unaware of himself or the environment he is in."

Rena fell silent, twiddling her thumbs, wondering which was worse. Perhaps it would have been better for Guy to be conscious, so that she could verbally relieve the hurt and anger she felt without him realizing it. But she could just as easily hit him now, with the same result.

"Does Ken have a family?" she thought aloud.

"A son and a baby on the way," he confirmed, standing still beside the bed.

She felt her stomach churn. A comatose man with children must be causing even more pain than a man who was torn between two lovers. "Oh, I'm sorry," she murmured, chewing on her bottom lip, wondering whether she wanted to know more or not. It only made her feel worse.

"I think the doctor said Guy will be awake in the next few days. They couldn't tell me when, exactly, so I've just been sitting here, waiting."

"I understand," Ryu said sympathetically.

"Hang on a second," Sakura cut in, standing over Guy with narrowed eyes. She watched him silently for a while before looking up at Rena. "I knew I recognized you from somewhere," she said, thinking back on the couple she had seen locked in a passionate embrace, under the tree that night.

She remembered how jealous she felt watching them, especially of Rena.

"What is it, Sakura?" Ryu said, watching her pull a face.

"You two, you and Guy," she pointed at Rena. "You were at the park when Tawnya Blaze attacked me," she stammered. "Ryu Sensei, can't you see what she's done?"

"Sakura..." Ryu started, but Rena's voice overpowered his.

"How dare you point your finger at me?" Rena roared, grabbing onto Sakura's finger.

"Oh, not you," she said shaking Rena off, turning to Ryu. "Sensei, do you have the card I showed you?" Ryu shook his head.

"Damn it, we should go back for that and show her. If she has the same card, then maybe Guy was invited to the tournament by you know who," Sakura said quickly, whispering at the end.

Rena stared at them blankly, feeling irritated that a young woman was talking about Guy as if she knew him. "What are you talking about?" she nervously said, wondering if Sakura knew Guy just as intimately as Maki did.

"Did anything strange happen while Tawnya Blaze was at your place?" Sakura inquired, tapping her foot excitedly.

Rena's eyes flew wide open. "What?"

"Oh c'mon," she said with less patience. "You don't remember looking after a superstar in your own home? Umm, you and Guy do live together, right?"

"Yes," Rena stammered.

"Well, it must have been you then."

Rena felt her face grow hot at the thought of her sister taking her place in her own home. She held herself stiff with rage.

"Sakura, enough," Ryu said, his eyes slightly furrowed, seeing Rena's reaction. He wanted to learn more about the effects of the _Raging Demon,_ but Sakura's constantly teasing questions were causing the conversation to stray.

"I have reason to believe Guy and Ken were attacked by an ancient technique called the _Raging Demon_ , which should have killed them," Ryu interjected. "We're trying to find out who's responsible."

"What will you do once you find him?" Rena half whispered, wondering whether to let herself sit down. Her legs felt weak.

"We'll destroy her," Sakura said, punching the air with a little too much enthusiasm.

"Guy survived, and he seems to be on his way to a good recovery," Ryu tried to reassure Rena, seeing her intensified distress by Sakura's probing. "He's probably consumed by the harrowing nightmares caused by the _Raging Demon,_ but once he wakes up, he'll be relieved of them. Thanks for letting us see him," he finished. He turned to walk out of the room.

"Ryu Sensei, not again!" Sakura exclaimed in surprise, wondering what the point of the visit was if it wasn't to find out more about the tournament.

Mel had been lurking in the lobby. Watching Ryu step out of the room where his father's opponent rested, he panicked. His palm instantly felt clammy and he was unable to keep his knees from trembling. Ryu looked even more frightening with casual clothes on, his muscles bulging beneath the sweatshirt. He always found Ryu intimidating. Sean prodded Mel in the ribs with one finger to make him move, but it only made him yelp in fright.

"Maybe Ryu already took 'em out," Sean thought aloud as he watched the scene over Mel's shoulders. "He's always had Ken's back whenever shit went down. You don't have to throw the first punch after all," he finished with a snigger.

Mel kept himself tight against the wall, trying his best to stay out of sight, but Sean was too tall to evade detection.

"Hey, whatcha guys doing here?" Sakura said, bemused. She was relieved to get away from Rena, who continued to glare at her from inside Guy's room.

"Umm," Mel stuttered, unable to keep his mouth from wavering.

"Gonna teach that dirt bag a lesson," Sean intervened, pounding his fist into his hand.

"Okaaaay," Sakura said, rolling her eyes. "Why the hell do you wanna do that for?"

"Because he beat my dad up," Mel suddenly yelled, feeling braver in Sakura's presence.

"And we're going to pound him so hard into the ground..." Sean cut in, trying to sound fierce and menacing, "...that he's not even gonna need a coffin to lie in."

Sakura looked through the observation window at Guy lying peacefully in his bed, then angrily turned to the boys. They clearly had no idea what had happened between Guy and Ken, and had come to their own conclusions.

She sighed, then shoved them hard up against the wall. They stayed still under her palms.

"He's already down," she hissed under her breath. "Besides, the man in that room isn't the one that attacked Ken."

"He isn't?" Mel said in a small voice, surprised.

"No, and he's your Daddy's friend too, just like Ryu Sensei."

"He is?"

"Yes, so don't go being a hero for nothing. Ryu Sensei is sorting it out, okay. We both are. And don't you go stirring things up for him," Sakura said, looking at Sean with mean eyes. He gulped, feeling her breath on his face.

"Now go home and be a good boy for Mommy, okay? They need you at home to keep the peace, not here messing around with your pal," she said, darting a sharp look at Sean.

Mel nodded pitifully, having no choice but to believe her.

"You got a problem with that, pretty boy?" Sakura teased, squeezing Sean's cheeks with her forefinger.

"No, ma'am," Sean whimpered through his pouted lips. He lowered his eyes to humble himself.

"Good to hear," she grinned, releasing them from her grip. "Run along and play nice," she sing-songed, pinching the boy's hard on their noses, then watched them run through the corridor with loud thudding echoes.

*****

Chapter 33:

TRUE TARGET

Fei had no time to lose. His heart juddered in his throat with the fear of getting caught. If he didn't leave now, he was sure the paparazzi would be on his trail. He went through his bureau drawers hurriedly, grasping blindly for a flat hard object. The phone machine bleeped and the little light on it blinked in the darkness of the hallway, but he ignored it, he had to.

"Boss, anything I can help with?" Fei's driver said, waiting nervously on the threshold with two medium-sized bags clutched under his armpits.

"I told you to load up the car already," Fei snapped, emptying onto the carpet the contents of the drawers. Now his home looked as though it had been burgled.

Condensation had formed between the thick barriers of the windows, trapped between the coolness of the air conditioning and the already searing summer morning heat. He wiped sweat off his brow. He was getting mildly irritated by the answering machine, which was now beeping twice as fast.

"How long we got?" Fei uttered in Cantonese slang, looking behind the cushions on the leather couch.

"An hour if we hurry."

Fei stopped in his tracks with a look of dismay as he checked his Rolex wristwatch. There were precisely sixteen hours before his press meeting in Kowloon. His stomach churned uncomfortably with the thought of what he would find on his return. If the Triads were still active under his pretense of leadership, he knew he was ruined for good---unless he took matters into his own hands. Frustrated by his own nervousness, Fei kicked the couch leg hard. Then, as he was taking a deep breath, he felt something poke him on his lower butt.

"Goddamn it," he muttered, retrieving the passport he had been looking for from his back pocket. He stroked his tensed forehead with a small smile, then he raced to the door. "Let's get out of here," he ordered, shoving his driver out.

With one sorrowful glance behind him, Fei shut the door with a loud thud. The last thing he heard was another abrupt phone call brrr-anging into his home. They huddled into the elevator where soft piano harmonies played until an abrupt "ting" alerted them of their stop. Fei took his sunglasses from his top pocket and set them on the bridge of his nose. The harsh sunlight pounded his face as he stepped into the driveway. He glanced at the twin white apartments that flanked his own condominium. In front were short trimmed hedges cornering the tarmac, where a sparkling black Maybach 62 awaited them.

"Umm, Mr. Long," his Chinese driver stuttered, touching his dimpled chin. "I think we have a problem, sir."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Fei said, swinging one of the bags over his shoulder. But when he saw the unexpected guest reposing on his freshly waxed car, he released it with a soft thud.

Sakura smiled at them, trying her best to keep herself from sliding off the slippery hood. Her face glowed with a vigor brought on by her sunrise jog around LA's more private areas. Her sports attire was sticking to her moist skin. The efforts of her labors were most clearly marked by large sweat patches under her breasts and back. Sakura grinned. She loved how surprised Fei was to see her. It almost made her feel special.

"Hello, Mr. Fei," she beamed, clutching at her crossed knee to steady herself. "Missed me?"

"Uh, boss, what do we do?" the driver said, watching him carefully under his brimmed hat.

The air had stillness. Fei scanned the area with vigilant eyes, and felt satisfied that they were alone: no reporters, cameras or other human life. He stroked the tip of his nose with his thumb, then thoughtfully crossed his arms.

"Business as usual," he said, pursing his lips. He was in no mood to play with a fan girl. "What do you want?" he bluntly asked Sakura. He looked at his watch again, conscious of the time. He hated time.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said dramatically. "Are you going someplace? 'Cause I obviously don't wanna keep you."

Taking her time, Sakura slid off the car. She straightened herself up, feeling how numb her butt cheek had gone. As she paced around the car with deliberately slow steps, she saw Fei jostle his leg anxiously. Smiling a little, she placed her palm against the windshield, and then she deliberately smudged it.

"Something I can do for you?" Fei said, in a failed attempt to keep his tone calm.

He stepped forward, ready to get into the car, but stopped when Sakura assumed her fighting stance. He laughed softly, wondering whether she was here to get some sort of revenge on him.

"Unfortunately, I don't fight girls," he said, beckoning his driver away into the car.

"Uh uh," she said, shaking her head with a smirk. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." She threw her arms to one side to rouse blue energy into her palms.

Noting the fireball, Fei made a jump at her, but he was far too slow.

" _HADOU-KEN!"_ she yelled, releasing the fireball onto the vehicle.

With a loud explosion of shattering glass and metal, the car shot up in flames.

"Nooooo!" Fei yelled in shock. "What the hell have you--"

"Ahh man, it's not totally smoked," Sakura dramatically groused. "Hmm, that just won't do." She frowned and took two wide steps back before settling into her stance again. "Maybe my longer range fireball oughta do the trick."

"Oh, come on," Fei moaned. He helplessly watched while his driver screamed in high-pitched Cantonese.

" _HA-DOUUUUUUUUU-KEN!"_ Sakura shrieked, grinning as the fireball sped toward the burning car.

Fei squinted at the sudden silhouette. His nostrils flared in anger. Pushing past the smoke, he crunched his fist, ready to grab his assailant by the collar of her shirt, yet forced himself to maintain self-control. Beads of sweat formed on his lips.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" he said, shouting over the crackles of the fire. Sakura shrugged her shoulders, indifferent.

"I'm just practicing," she smiled with her eyes closed, "before trying it out on my real target," she said glaring at him. "Seriously, you weren't gonna leave without saying goodbye, were you?" She pouted, touching his arm playfully just as Tawnya would do. "I thought we were friends."

Fei felt stiff with rage. His face darkened when he tried to talk. "Okay, you've got my attention," he said, tapping his foot faster and faster. "Now what d'ya want?"

"Hmm," Sakura hummed, rubbing her chin. "I didn't know you were a felon, Fei Long, running away after half killing a few people. That's not very nice, is it?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" he said, irritated by Sakura's leering smile. He looked to the side, distracted by his driver speaking loudly into his cell phone, relieved that his companion was arranging for another car.

"You can't start a fight and leave some thugs to clean up after you," she said, pulling a long face. "That's not what a real martial artist would do in the middle of a tournament, but what do I know. You're a superstar. You could get away with murder."

His jaws knotted as if he wanted to say something, but instead he swallowed the words. There was no way Sakura could know about the Triads. Even if she did, _LA Express_ would never take her story. He would make sure of that.

"Stop wasting my time," he said, keeping a sharp eye out for incoming reporters.

"So you admit it," she continued, standing in his way. "The tournament at Mirror Tale Stadium _was_ your fight?"

He frowned. "Mirror Tale?"

"We know you and Rose planned the entire thing."

The mention of Rose's name stabbed him in the guts.

"And I'm gonna make you pay for what you've done," she said, poking a finger into his chest. Fei looked angry but she knew she was on the right track, having silenced him with her bogus accusation. Her mouth twitched, seeing his eyes glint behind his sunglasses.

"Come on," she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I want to fight you. Let's fight. I won't give you the chance to knock me down. It's just you and me alone."

In a tone that hovered between wan and wry, he said, "I don't fight girls."

"Oh yeah?" she wailed, jabbing a punch into his stomach. It was a real blow, strong enough to make his eyes water.

"Cut it out," he coughed, retreating. "I'm not going to fight you."

Sakura laughed, then swung a kick at his waist, putting him off balance. She punched with left and rights so fast that her hands blurred. Fei took the pain. She could continue to kick and punch all day until she tired out.

"This is for getting me fired from my dream job," she growled, smacking his shoulder. "This is for driving Tawnya Blaze to nearly killing me." She aimed for his groin but kicked his hands instead. "And now I'm going to break you."

"Sakura, I won't fight you. I won't tell you again."

"Or else what?" Ignoring Fei's comment, she brought her palms together in an effort to rouse another fireball. She looked angry and serious as she hopped around him. With much regret, Fei slipped to the side, striking her hard in the neck, then pinioned her arms back. She collapsed onto him, groaning.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he pleaded. "I didn't want that projectile thrown in my--" then he released Sakura abruptly, putting his hands to his face. His own warm blood was oozing onto his white shirt. As he held his nose, his half-shattered sunglasses were hanging from his ears.

"Sakura, are you okay?" Ryu said, pulling her to one side.

"Ryu Sensei, I told you I can handle myself," she said with a hint of impatience. "That was just the beginning."

"I'm not going to let you get hurt."

"But what sort of fighter, I mean, martial artist does that make me if you won't even let me get hit?"

"A woman's body is more fragile, Sakura."

"How do you know? I'm as tough as leather. You gotta give me a chance, Sensei. A real chance."

"Your chance will come once you're fully prepared."

"I don't wanna wait forever for a good fight. You were practically my age when you had your first big fight. My big one could've been with Fei Long."

"Patience is a gift, Sakura. With patience, you will see time slow down before you, and with that extra time, you will be able to execute the perfect technique without effort."

Sakura huffed, rolling her eyes at him.

"You need to learn to control your emotions and heighten your senses by unlocking the release of time," Ryu continued, taking her by the shoulder. "Once you have learnt that, you will be ready."

Fei watched the two argue. He wiped the blood off his face with a clean towel passed to him by his companion. A car was waiting for them at the foot of the driveway, and he had to be quick. He ran for it but felt his arm caught in an iron grip. Fei struggled to conceal his humiliation, mustering a smile he only hoped didn't look as synthetic as it felt. Taking off his broken sunglasses, he turned as much as the grip would allow. Ryu stood a few inches behind him.

"Ryu?" Fei said, thumbing his split lip. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Fei," Ryu acknowledged him, keeping still, though his red headband fluttered. Fei looked very much the celebrity, as depicted on TV. It was so unlike Tawnya, whose charm and charisma had faded with her grief. He seemed more distinguished, well built for his size and oozing confidence, but he somehow was not the man Ryu remembered. "You seem to have changed since I last met you."

"And you haven't changed much," Fei grumbled, glancing up and down at Ryu's bright white gi. "If you don't mind, I have someplace to be," he said, trying to walk away.

"Wait," Ryu said boldly. He turned his head to one side to catch a glimpse of Fei's tightened fist. He smiled, then ordered Sakura to fight.

"Whoa, what the--" Fei struggled to say, hurriedly blocking a roundhouse kick aimed at his face.

"The strength of an art is closely followed by the destructive forces of its power," Ryu instructed, closely watching how Fei defended himself against his pupil. "Once these powers are completely refined, one can easily become lost in its supremacy, mind, body and soul."

Sakura shrieked, pushing herself faster, twisting through the air and catching Fei in all her new techniques.

"I know this because those who were at a close proximity to me were unable to handle the intensity of the power. Tainted power is passed from one source to another, just as air is passed from living things."

"Ryu, what is this? I don't audition people this way, you know," Fei yelled through Sakura's howls.

"You're a man of great success," Ryu responded. "The showmanship you demonstrate on stage has been passed on to you through the fights you had once experienced in your early career." Ryu crossed his arms on his chest. "The more powerful an artist becomes, the darker the desire turns."

"Ryu, I refuse to fight. Can't we just talk?" Fei yelled again, blocking an uppercut with a forearm. He was determined not to hit Sakura, holding his arms back to block. He dodged left and right, avoiding her incoming attacks, but he felt frustrated that she was unwilling to back down.

"The artist will do anything to ensure their goals are met before moving onto their next objective, just as you have done."

"What?" Fei recoiled, dashing to one side to evade a weak Hadou-ken. "Am I missing something here?"

Ryu smiled to see his basic assumption of Fei come true to life. For a man who continually supported Tawnya's emotional trauma of the Dark Hadou, Fei was fast and had sharp reflexes, which helped him defend without conflict. Ken had rarely been steady after helping Ryu overcome the Dark Hadou. He had often been shaken by the flow of destructive energy.

"Evil energy flows from one person to another, even if it's unintentional. I don't have to fight you to know how focused your defensive techniques are. Clearly, the Dark Hadou has had no effect on you if you are able to retain such intense focus while fending off Sakura. You may not feel a change within, but the energy will cause harsh peril to your state of mind. As a martial artist, your sense of focus should have been the first to go."

"Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?" Fei growled, ducking an overhead kick.

From the back of the Bentley, Fei's driver yelled, "Boss, we won't make the plane."

"Ryu," Fei said stepping in front of him, hoping for this pointless charade to be over.

"Sakura, STOP!" Ryu ordered. Sakura froze mid-way in a low punch position. Fei looked at him dangerously, but Ryu saw a sense of calm in his eyes. No Dark Hadou. No torment. No sign of ever dealing with it. Fei was not in control of Tawnya, but he knew she wasn't in control of herself either.

Quickly, he flashed a card at Fei, watching for a change in his eyes. Suddenly Fei gasped. The mark of the rose emblazoned in his pupils, then disappeared when Ryu crushed it in his fist.

"Have a safe trip," Ryu said. His mouth twitched to a small smile as Fei sprinted into the car without looking back.

Sakura slammed her palms against her thigh, dumb-founded by Ryu's action.

"Sensei, I swear you're just nuts sometimes, you know that?" she stuttered, watching the car screech away.

Ryu's eyes twitched, feeling that harsh familiar strangulation clutch around his throat. With a thud, he fell to the ground, wringing his hands around his neck to loosen the aches, but that did nothing for him. He blinked, looking up at the sky, but he could only see darkness. Sakura had been swallowed by its shadows as did the buildings that once surrounded them.

"Sakura...get...back," he wheezed, taking harsh, panicked breaths, widening his eyes to scan the area. "It's coming...Just like...I told you. I feel it coming."

He heard soft laughter from behind him, and the slow, deliberate tapping of high-heeled boots on the pavement. He growled at the eruption of the Dark Hadou burning within him. Veins lifted from his skin like a bad rash. He was unable to keep his eyes from ground level. The tapping of the shoes stopped. His head snapped up to see her pearly-toothed smile taunt him. She reached over at him, her finger tracing his chin in a conscious attempt to make him meet her eyes. Her long hair blew behind her, as if a tornado was brewing nearby.

Tawnya half smiled, screwing her heel into Ryu's left hand. He growled, feeling his veins ready to burst. "You been looking for me, sugah?" she said huskily, her face lined with the marks of the Dark Hadou.

*****

Chapter 34:

TAWNYA BLAZE

Ryu's pain-filled eyes peered into Tawnya Blaze's emotionless face. Her once-hazel eyes were a misty gray, as if there was no life left in her. The lower contours of her eyes were dark and a red of shade ringed her pupils. Her nose was freckled dark brown and her lips looked as though it were carved in stone.

She was lost and Ryu knew why. He had to overcome the Dark Hadou by breaking her free, even if it meant he would have no energy to breathe in the end. With her slight touch, Ryu shook. He felt hot, and his muscles were aching from his best efforts to control the boiling power within him.

"Ryu Sensei, where'd you go?" Sakura's voice echoed.

He opened his eyes in panic, hearing her from afar, but the darkness made him feel confused.

"I can't see you anywhere," she moaned.

He wanted to yell, to call out for her, but he moaned from the terrible pressure building in his chest.

Tawnya grabbed the satin yellow scarf that wrapped tightly around her neck. Her fingernails were filled with mud and dirt.

"I thought I'd save you the trouble and come to you instead," she whispered, her voice sounding a little deeper than normal. Her grip on his face was soft, but her fingers felt like steel. Gazing at him she said, "There is something strong between us. I know you feel it. That connection...I can see it in your eyes."

Ryu clutched at the ground with the palm of his hands in an effort to look away, but the nails that dug into his cheek forced his head to jerk up. He had seen this look of deprivation before, he had experienced it prior to his unprecedented will to follow in the path of the warrior.

"The true intent," Tawnya paused, "...will show itself, and I want you to show yourself to me, all of you, including the deep powers that you so evidently like to hide."

"I have no power," Ryu wheezed. "I have no reason to show you anything."

"Ryu Sensei...where the hell are you?" Sakura's voice broke in frustration. He grimaced. The constant drapes of darkness blacked out his peripheral sight.

"The girl," Tawnya said. Her cheeks lifted to imitate a smile. "For your sake, I hope she means nothing to you. Emotions only weaken you."

He looked over his shoulder but felt the stabbing pain of evil slice his spine.

"Grrrr," he gargled, stumbling forward. Tawnya caught him.

"This is what happens when you foolishly try to fight your powers," she said, her pupils still ringed in red. He felt everything inside him scald with intense pain.

"You need to stop controlling the power of the Dark Hadou. Feel its supremacy," she said, backhanding his face sharply. Then she stood back tall and ready, waiting for him to move. "You owe it. Let it completely rule you."

"Leave her, Akuma," he yelled, feeling sick at the sight of Tawnya's face changing into his adversary.

"NO!" she yelled, jabbing a knife into Ryu's thigh. He gasped, feeling his thigh muscles tighten with shock. Brilliant red gushed through his white gi. He heard an uncanny laugh leave Tawnya's mouth, shoving her heel into Ryu's open knife wound. He pushed her off, then blocked her incoming kick with his forearm as she lurched back into the attack. His head snapped up uncomfortable to the disturbing sight off Tawnya smiling crookedly. She once again stood tall, tracing a finger over the knife. Blood dripped as she scored open the tip of her finger.

"I'm sure many before me have been keen to experience the frenzy of your power," she said with no feeling in her voice.

Ryu shuddered, attempting to shoulder into Tawnya but his confused double vision made it difficult for him to focus. His shoulder was slow. His movements were awkward. He felt sick beyond compulsion but he had to try to resist the dark powers if he was to finally unveil Tawnya's true shadow. The tattoo on her wrist was almost possessing him, glowing in the absence of light. He knew he had to shake out of this strange stupor that the Dark Hadou was sucking him into. He had to. He simply had to.

Tawnya watched her hand shake from the bleeding pain, but nevertheless swung her fist at Ryu, who was kneeling on the ground. He barely moved, showing no signs of pain other than the sensation brought upon by the Dark Hadou. She had no idea how she was able to move so swiftly, spinning backwards and forwards with ever harsher strikes, but felt herself grow frustrated with Ryu's lack of reaction.

" _Show me your power,"_ the voice rang in her head.

"Show me your power," Tawnya growled, leaping with incredible grace to dig her nails into his face. He didn't flinch.

Instead, Ryu took deep breaths, exhaling noisily, and repeated the process until he was able to stand again.

"I've known all my life..." he finally said, straightening up, "...that the road would one day end. I would reach my limit and have no place to go. I ended that path a long time ago and have been waiting for the time when you would finally show up."

His small smile instantly made Tawnya feel uneasy.

"What does that mean?" she retorted defensively, winding the tail of the scarf around her wrist.

"I finished you a long time ago, and you return in this form." He gritted his teeth, advancing on her. "Let her go, Akuma. LET IT GO!"

In a hurl, Ryu pressed his fingers into Tawnya's shoulder, desperately wanting her to connect with her own essence. Her deep subconscious was manipulated. Her unblinking eyes told him that she was fully controlled by something other than herself: the foundation of the true Dark Hadou.

"Don't let it beat you the way it beat me. Fight it, Tawnya, fight the mind control," he said with determination, looking into her hazy eyes.

"What?" she gasped softly, in her true voice, shaking. She moaned loudly, feeling something leave her.

"Don't let it control you, the influence of the Dark Hadou, don't succumb to it," Ryu repeated, keeping a firm hold on her.

The "ten" tattoo on her wrist flashed luridly, then dimmed, bringing them both to their knees. Ryu shook his head, breaking the double vision of her.

"This isn't you, Tawnya. Shake out of his control."

The corners of her mouth sagged a little, and she blinked her eyes briefly. Despite the pressure Ryu placed on her shoulder, her eerie half-smile returned.

"Tell me if you feel nothing," she suddenly snarled, mocking his good intentions.

In a flash, she opened her mouth softly over his. Ryu froze. The scorching pain tore at his chest, nearly combusting him, but then the sensation rapidly cooled as Tawnya pulled away.

He stood rigid. He had seen something clearly in the short moment of her kiss. Upon closing his eyes, Ryu had sensed a shadow grasping the yellow scarf as if it were Tawnya's leash.

Her lips pressed together into a hard line, then relaxed into a half-smile. "Isn't that something I would do?"

"Tawnya," Ryu said in almost a whisper, feeling some relief.

The "ten" tattoo flickered, then faded away, to reveal her pale beige skin. There was no trace of ink, no outline of the kanji, no mark on her skin whatsoever.

"An illusion," he concluded. He grabbed his head suddenly, feeling enlightened. He took short breaths. The Dark Hadou: he no longer felt it. The pain in his chest was nothing but the harsh judder of his heart thumping fast. He looked up with a sense of serenity, but felt perplexed when he saw that Tawnya's face was still marked by the Dark Hadou.

"You're not him. His soul cannot be embedded in you when you're in control," Ryu said, his voice firm. "You're in control. Tawnya, think. Just think about that."

Tawnya tilted her head to one side, trying to ignore the screams of her mind. She looked at Ryu, calling and yelling, unable to hear his voice at all.

"Show yourself..." Ryu demanded, watching something in Tawnya's eyes change, "...your true self."

Feeling her ears ring, Tawnya touched her face, taking the time to trace over her lips and cheeks, ignoring the streaks of blood from her finger that were marking up her skin. She felt her forehead, her eyebrows, and her eyelids with a sudden clarity.

She knew who she was.

Her ears still rang with _his_ voice alone, but she didn't want to cower to it anymore.

" _Fool, you led him the wrong way."_ The voice yelled at her so powerfully that it forced her knees to tremble, but for once she remained standing, slowing responding to Ryu's commands.

"Gain some control over yourself," she heard his strained voice say. His face was contorted with concentration. She was his total focus. "Good intentions harness positive potentials. Think of what that means to you."

Feeling confused, Tawnya looked up at him, with tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked at her hands, watching the scarf slip through her fingers.

"Where am I?" she asked dubiously. Her voice was shaky. She blinked several times, feeling strangely familiar with the layout of the quiet street and the surrounding concrete white buildings.

"My God, Sensei, there you are," Sakura cried out with relief, and ran to him from across the street. "Whoa, what the hell is happening here?"

"SAKURA, NO!" Ryu broke out into a sprint to reach her, but to his dismay Tawnya had beat him. She had been surprisingly fast, cornering Sakura.

"I've been looking for you," Tawnya smiled at her, almost motherly. Her eyes turned serious. "Now, run."

Sakura hesitated, guarding her face with her fists.

"RUN, DAMN IT, RUN!" Tawnya shouted in a panic, shoving Sakura away. "PLEASE, JUST DO IT! SHE'S AFTER YOU!" she pleaded.

Sakura laughed. "Pfft, I'm not gonna fall for your tricks," she said, tripping Tawnya to the ground with a solid low sweep.

With a sharp snap to the knee, Sakura kicked out, only to have her foot piercing the air. Tawnya was gone. She heard someone screaming beside her. A strong grasp clutched her hair. Sakura turned her face toward bright green eyes staring back.

She froze, her wrist caught by the yellow scarf which entangled her like a live liana. She gripped her arm, struggling to release the material, but the more she struggled the tighter it squeezed her wrist, cutting off circulation.

"ILLUSION SPARK!" Rose yelled, her arm releasing power through the scarf, and into her young prey.

A short fuse of electricity bolted through Sakura in short spasms. Her hair stuck up on its ends, and with every seizure she screamed. Her mouth foamed with mucus-like saliva. Her body was immobilized.

"SAKURA...NOOO!" Ryu roared upon seeing his student trapped.

Rose's eyes pierced him with a look of total satisfaction.

Ignoring the powerful energy that expelled from Rose's body, Ryu ripped the scarf away with one mighty pull. Sakura dropped to the ground shaking with shock, her eyes half-closed, muttering her sensei's name.

Rose smiled, her eyes crazed, as Ryu's fist blurred in front of her. He caught her powerfully in the stomach, swapped an uppercut with his left fist before launching into the air at her.

" _...SHOOOO-RYU-KEN."_

Landing on his feet, he heard hands clapping slowly and loudly behind him. Ryu looked around, the adrenaline of protecting Sakura still raging through him.

"Excellent showmanship," Rose said, her hands slamming together. Her smile hinted pleasure. The yellow scarf had returned to cover her bare shoulders.

"Mystic Rose?" he gasped, wide-eyed, expecting her to be on the ground. He turned around again, then felt his heart grow weak.

Tawnya's arm rested carelessly over her head. Her arm was empty, apart from the cream scar that bore his name. His eyes filled, swallowing down a lump. He struggled for breath, fighting back the suffocating emotion behind his moistening eyes.

"No," he uttered, falling to his knees. His combat mitts dripped red.

*****

Chapter 35:

SYMBOL OF ROSE

Tawnya Blaze lay still on the street with her long dark hair sprawled across her face. Her body was twisted at an awkward angle, hiding the broken bloodied neck that had caused her death. Ryu would have liked to see whether her expression was peaceful, and whether her lids were closed, but he shook on his knees, his hands trembling. He felt empty, as if someone had ripped his heart out to save him from feeling. Ignoring Sakura's gentle mumblings, he leaned forward on all fours, mustering the strength to crawl towards the body.

Gingerly tracing the scar on Tawnya's arm with a finger, Ryu felt his breath catch. Its bumpy texture was the same as the thick lines around his own heart. His name was marked on her body, just as Akuma's evil marked him. A judder of air escaped his mouth as he stifled a cry. Her skin was growing cold.

"No," his mouth trembled, as he tried his best to control his emotions. "No, this is another illusion. It has to be."

He bowed down, wrapping his arms around Tawnya's body. Biting his lips, he closed his eyes against the image of Gouken, cold and dead, in his arms. His heartbeat quickened at the mere thought of someone else dying because of him. His pulse throbbed in his ears.

"Emotions," Rose's voice echoed, "weaken a fighter."

His jaw knotted at the familiar words.

"And compassion," she said, standing still with her hands clasped against her chest, "is a weak emotion."

"You have conjured this..." Ryu gasped, fighting back the tears. "...this is fantasy...to make the Dark Hadou reignite in me."

Rose's gloved fist shone bright blue, making her smile gleam. Her eyes pierced at him with total satisfaction just as though she had been waiting for this moment. Looking at her, Ryu suddenly felt something alien from the Dark Hadou. A dark power emanated from her. It was the very same sensation he had once felt coming from Tawnya. He lowered his eyes, thinking of how the Dark Hadou had cost Tawnya her life. He grabbed his chest, tracing over the scar, feeling sick.

"Mystic Rose," he said in almost a whisper. "You saved me from being swallowed by the Dark Hadou before. You were my last hope, stopping me from advancing for my own protection...you and Tawnya..." he stuttered, unable to look at the body behind him, "...I was expecting someone else."

Rose stood tall. The yellow scarf spiraled around her like a protective shield. Her smile drooped, as she tried to read Ryu's thoughts, but her expression showed a disturbance by another source.

"We were here before, Rose, but you were on my side."

"You see your force of destruction," she pointed elaborately at Tawnya's dead body, the yellow scarf hanging off her arm. "Tawnya Blaze was just a mere pawn."

"No, no, this is all wrong--" he tried to argue, but felt a harsh twinge in his chest.

The yellow scarf glowed blue as hit after hit of electricity screwed into him like a drill. Ryu stumbled back, dizzied. He blocked her high kick with his forearm, stepping sideways to evade her spinning punch. He felt short of breath. It was a struggle to remove all the negative energy that he was surrounded by, but he knew he had to fight it out of him.

"Fight against your emotion," Rose said, her sharp eyes glinting. "Don't let it slow you down."

She laughed, moving so swiftly that four identical silhouettes materialized from her body. Ryu shook his head, trying to break out of this distorted vision, but no matter where he turned, identical pairs of eyes overwhelmed him.

He smashed his forearms together, blocking a spiral of kicks that attacked him from all sides. The color yellow blinded his sight as the scarf whipped around with her movements. He felt his world spin and tilt, almost placing him in a state of hallucination. Ryu growled, keeping his fist close to his face to evade the scarf, but its light touch caused his entire body to shake with electric shocks. He suddenly roared, his eyes wide with tears. She forced the pointed heel of her shoe into the open knife wound on his thigh.

He grabbed Rose's leg and pulled her to the ground, but her body sprang right back up.

" _Soul Spark!"_ she commanded, throwing three small fireballs from the tail of her scarf.

Ryu jumped into the air, his palm filled with the same blue energy.

" _Hadou-ken_ ," he cried, aiming his own large fireball to make it consume the others.

" _Reflect_ ," Rose yelled, thrusting the scarf over herself for protection. The fireball crashed against the satin, then bounced back to him. With widening eyes he rapidly rolled to the ground. Ryu launched a kick to Rose's shin before springing onto the base of his toes to evade the attacking silhouettes. Retreating back, he let his guard drop upon seeing a gray figure looming like a shadow behind her.

"Rose..." he warned, but he was greeted by a haughty laugh.

Bringing her hands together, she formed two small energy balls that undulated through the scarf in a tranquil, undisturbed state.

"Our physical form is merely the outer expression of our true self," Rose said matter-of-factly, playing with the energy balls that danced around her. "It is a matrix of universal energy."

She let the balls go, sharply thrusting the scarf outward. He sidestepped them, then dashed forward, using his strength to throw her over his shoulder. As she hit the ground, he was sure he saw the ethereal shadow again.

"The battle within," he said, holding her down, "is the fight between heart and soul, good and evil. You know this better than anyone, Rose." He held his hand out to her and she took it, lifting her to her feet.

"We are all beings of energy in a physical shell, and the most powerful energy is our thoughts," she responded softly, listening to the sound of her own voice. "Mental energy can create our own heaven and hell."

Rose stumbled back, suddenly dizzy from the fight. Lights flickered before her like dots that appeared and disappeared, all in the blink of an eye. With a gaping mouth, Rose looked around her, distracted by a buzzing sound that was irritating her ears. She held her head tightly for a second, unstable on her heels. A tarot card slipped from inside her arm, displaying a picture of a troll devil. The corners were frayed with smutty finger prints that could only belong to her.

"Sometimes," Ryu said, keeping his distance, "the most important battle is the battle within..."

He dashed forward, catching her in his arms before she fell. He pressed his forefingers against her temple and felt a hint of electricity on contact.

"No," she gasped, her body bent backwards against him.

"I see a shadow while you fight," Ryu informed her, pushing his finger and thumb harder on her forehead. A small white glow escaped her. "You can't seriously think these illusions will fool me."

Rose pushed herself off him, her hair considerably more tussled than its usual perfect coiffure. Her head hurt, aching from the pressures of an evil presence in it. She couldn't tell where it was coming from, but felt her mind burning with images of a strange scene she had visited before.

She looked around and found herself standing alone in a canyon. Her heart pulsed harshly knowing she was close to the source, an incredible aura that was tainted with dark power and malicious intent. Upon seeing a shadow-like figure entering her soul, she screamed a scream of death.

"ROSE!" Ryu yelled, jumping to her aid. She shrieked, grabbing her head in a stranglehold.

"I feel it too, Ryu," she muttered in between harsh breaths. Her eyes were squeezed shut. "My mind...my head...it's inside me."

She clutched her chest, leaned forward, and groaned. A fog of white light escaped from her mouth.

"He's been in me," she struggled to say, "...all this time. The power, I feel...great evil."

"Rose, what's going on?"

"The Soul Power has been disturbed," she responded in fear, with sweat rolling off her brow. "I felt the balance of the ki shift towards evil. I sought the source of the evil, but then that source consumed me."

With glowing fingers, Rose touched the tip of her temple, screaming again to try to expel the evil energy out of her. She closed her eyes and saw heavy swirls again, forming the shape of the demon that was trapped inside of her. She staggered forward, balancing the fall with her right leg, then she looked at Tawnya.

"I have the gift of premonition, and have accepted the responsibility imposed by this gift. I've vowed to continue on the path to destroy evil, even if it means sacrificing myself, but now I have gone against my words and have sacrificed another."

Ryu looked up with his eyes red. "You were controlling her?" he said unevenly.

" _He_ used my Soul Power against me. _He_ used me to control a weaker being."

Ryu looked around him but saw nothing but darkness.

"Ryu," Rose said, her voice unusually fearful. "Do not be tempted by the powers of the Dark Hadou. Keep free and be willing to use your natural strength with your mind and soul."

"Mystic Rose?" Ryu gasped, recognizing her true voice.

A shadowy figure loomed behind her. It appeared smoky gray for a moment, then camouflaged into the dark backdrop that continued to confuse his senses.

"A life shrouded in darkness," she said with the yellow scarf wilting at her side, "is spent searching for the light..."

" _Foolish psychic,"_ an echoed voice exploded.

Rose fell to the ground. Her head burst with pain from the invasion of his harsh essence.

" _Weak bodied, weak minded."_

Ryu drew his palms inches apart to rouse the _Hadou-ken_ , and this time the fusion of sparks collided in a concoction of red and orange. His neck muscles strained and his biceps bulged with the fireball growing larger and larger in his hands.

"Agggh!" he screamed, releasing the mid-sized ball onto the gray shadow. "There you are."

Akuma's body appeared, smoky and intangible, the dark soul releasing itself completely from Rose's body. The dreadful symbol of the kanji "ten" blazed on his back like fire as a reminder of his dreadful presence.

"I'm ready for you, Akuma," Ryu said calmly, regaining a refined sense of clarity in his presence.

"If you insist on speaking," Akuma began, his voice coarse and rugged, "...do so with your fists."

*****

Chapter 36:

天

The heavy scent of incense was spread through the air as an awakened breeze wafted into the stuffiness of the temple room. The walls were old, its wooden shafts barely strong enough to hold the remains of the ceramic tiled roof.

Feeling a drop of water splash onto his cheek, Ryu opened one eye. He held still in his seated meditating position, in order to avoid being scolded. He felt another drop. It was raining hard outside. From the corner of his eye, he could see Ken's young face contorted into a frown, forcing himself awake. Gouken was muttering his usual morning prayer. Shuffling away from Ken, Ryu watched his master's lips move slowly as each syllable was pronounced with care and meaning that made him feel at complete ease. Ryu knew that Gouken meant every word that left his mouth; and he was filled with a great sense of protection.

"Form is no other than emptiness. Emptiness is no other than form. Form is only emptiness, emptiness only form," Gouken recited slowly in Japanese. His voice carried to the corners of the torch-lit room. "We are what we think. All that we are arises without thought. With our thoughts, we make the world. Speak or act with a pure mind, and happiness will follow you like a shadow..."

Ryu smiled, looking at his master with such intensity that his heart shook. His beard was a gray-speckled brown that peaked out from under his chin. His small eyes were almost hidden by the overgrown brows, and it was almost difficult to tell whether his lids were open or not. The ash gray shawl draped over his shoulders bared arms that were covered with tendons. His elbows rested on crossed knees, and he gently held a thin stick of incense with closed palms.

Ryu's smile widened. He felt exhilarated that such a man had willingly taken him under his care. He dreamt of becoming big and strong like him; like this man who had promised to raise him as his own.

"Ryu..." Gouken's deep voice rumbled, breaking the rhythm of his chanting.

Ryu jumped, startled at the sudden change of tone. He gulped, frightened, but Gouken remained still with his eyes closed.

He said, "I sense that you are looking at me, boy," his chilled breath fogging in front of him.

Ryu gulped audibly, amazed that his meditating master was able to sense his slightest action. He should have been meditating too, but this was his only chance to study Gouken's physical state, the scars, the burns, the many wounds he bore, without feeling his master's eye on him. He was curious to learn but wanted to avoid being superficially inquisitive.

"Sensei, why do you always wear that around your neck?" his young voice trembled, referring to the sandalwood beads. To the left of him, Ken stifled his laughter. Gouken sighed, then opened his eyes to Ryu's youthful face. He was almost in an exalted state, his eyes glittering with spittle on his lips, shimmering.

Gingerly, Gouken traced the large beads on his neck, then he outstretched his palm on his thigh. One bead was big enough to cover Ryu's entire hand.

"This is the Japa Mala," Gouken began, his voice intently low. "The Japa Mala is traditionally used to keep count while reciting. These particular beads are used to tame."

"Tame what?" Ryu cut in intrusively, and his eyes fell in shame for being too impatient.

"Selfish motivation."

He looked up with a sadness that seemed painful. "But you're not selfish, Sensei," Ryu muttered, reminding himself of Gouken's well-meaning generosity. It annoyed him that Ken was squirming so loudly beside him. The many candles around them were inadequate heat, and he always hated morning meditation.

"Overcoming selfishness is a difficult skill to maintain, my boy. As you grow older and stronger, you will be open to many opportunities that are selfish. The twenty five beads around my neck are a reminder of motivation for unselfishness. To tame is to subdue harmful energies. Only those who are motivated by passion can try to tame."

Gouken paused, hearing Ryu breathe loudly over the harsh rain that drummed on the rooftops.

"Yes, Ryu?" he urged upon seeing Ryu's pained face.

"What if I'm not strong enough to tame my selfishness? Does that mean I will never become a good fighter?"

Ken burst out laughing, caught Gouken's frown, and quickly placed a hand over his mouth.

"Selfishness is a deliberate act performed with full consciousness to fulfil one's own agenda. If you are aware of your own actions, you will be able to judge whether you are acting in the interest of others. My objective is to teach you boys the Shotokan arts without hindering your natural strengths, but it is also my duty to protect you from harm while you learn. My master, Goutetsu, made many mistakes with his pupils, and I intend to not follow in his footsteps. That, Ryu, is my test, not yours."

Ryu felt rage erupt recognizing the wooden Japa Mala that hung around Akuma's muscled neck. The beads had a good deal of wear to them. Some were cracked, and others were chipped with gaping holes. Wearing the Japa Mala was an insult to Gouken's memory. He had been stripped from life for nothing but Akuma's own selfishness and greed for power. The red aura around him was proof of his obsession. Ryu braced himself for the blows that were certain to follow, feeling Akuma's disruptive aura pound him with great force.

The earth began to rumble beneath them. Akuma slammed his fist into the ground, causing a small seismic wave. The concrete cracked like a broken shell with splinters and stones powdering the air, but he dashed through it, throwing a flurry of orchestrated kicks and punches that penetrated Ryu. His jaw snapped, then a gouging pain shot through his stomach like a bullet. He doubled over, retching, then was thrown across the street.

Ryu slid along the ground, his gi already splattered with his own blood. He squinted to probe the shadows around him, but a sudden rush of heat made him look up wide-eyed.

The sky was alit with a meteorite shower of fireballs. Akuma simply grunted, hurling _Hadou-kens_ from the air one after the other, quicker than anything Ryu had ever witnessed. He rolled left, then right to avoid the exploding attack, but there was nowhere for him to turn. Hearing silence, he somersaulted upward, slamming his forearms together for defense, but his chest seared with pain from the ambushed. Feeling the crushing weight of Akuma's dive kick on his shoulder, there was barely enough time to react.

Scurrying back, Ryu tensed his body to block the attacks, but each strike felt like a heart attack that horribly shook his body. He tried to sidestep the punch, but his cheek was caught by another hand. A screeching hum resonated in his right ear, which leaked blood. Ryu was soft-bodied compared to the demon that was killing him. Akuma's power was inexhaustible.

"This is the path of the weak," Akuma grumbled coarsely, his mouth barely open as he spoke.

He pounded the crown of Ryu's head, and watched him drop to his knees, paralyzed. He grabbed a tuft of Ryu's hair and effortlessly lifted him to his feet. Akuma's dark red eyes shone with vengeance as Ryu squirmed in pain.

"You are no different from many of those I have fought before you," Akuma spat in disgust. "Without the Dark Hadou, you have sold yourself short."

Ryu half looked up at his assailant. In the gathering darkness, he could not make out his expression, but he felt unperturbed by the destructive aura emanating from Akuma's powerfully built body. Nothing reflected back in those blood scarlet pupils, not even Ryu's pitiful face. Akuma had been toughened by decades of toil and training, and had become a hollow shell with no human soul. His skin looked like battle-hardened leather, and the power he held in his fist was more destructive than a juggernaut. Making Akuma feel pain would require the attack of a thousand fireballs, and that was impossible.

The smallest hint of a smile twitched at the corners of Akuma's chapped mouth, as he grabbed Gouken's most prized pupil tighter.

"You shall follow your beloved master for disobeying me," he said, maintaining the slight smile, before throwing Ryu into the air with the crippling _Dragon Punch._

Ryu gurgled, and landed hard on the ground. He shook, wobbling to his feet, unable to apprehend Akuma's movements in his shadowlike state. His mouth gaped open with dripping blood as he sucked in quick breaths to calm the pain that tore away at his flesh. Mastering the Dark Hadou had made Akuma impregnable, but he had no soul and felt no emotion, Ryu earnestly reminded himself. It had to be his weakness.

"To tame is to subdue harmful energies," Gouken's deep voice rang in Ryu's head. His face was alight with a serenity that rivaled Akuma's wrath.

"Sensei?" Ryu gasped, disturbed by Gouken's sudden appearance. He hadn't seen a vision of his Master since the night he first felt the Dark Hadou. He could almost feel the air move where Gouken walked, but he had to focus on the fight.

"At this moment, what more need we seek?" Gouken spoke gently, standing tall beside his student. Ryu tried to straighten up, but a sharp twinge in his ribs kept him low.

"I am not Akuma," he answered back, shaking, digging the tips of his toes into the dirt. "I am much more than he and the Dark Hadou could ever be."

"It is too clear and so it is hard to observe," Gouken frowned, rolling his large shoulders back and forth. "Do not look but really see," he murmured in his deep Japanese accent, stooping low on a level with his student. Then he chanted the code of the warrior, the words that had kept Ryu focused for so long.

Slowly, Ryu took deep breaths through his nose, filling his lungs, willing the throbs of pain to subside. To calm. There was a low grumble. The tail of his red headband danced as Akuma's red fireball created a hurricane that only God himself could form. He growled, his teeth bare like a savage wolf.

"Emptiness is no other than form," Gouken said evenly. His eyes were soft and gentle as ever.

The fireball grew larger and larger, yet Ryu was unable to focus. He tried again, breathing with discipline. His knuckles clicked as his hands balled into fists.

"The fight is all but one part of the way," Gouken said with intent. "It is not how you fight, but why you fight."

"Why I fight?" Ryu stuttered, his brows lifting at the sudden thought. He faced forward, peering at Akuma's evil red eyes through the magnanimous crimson fireball that advanced rapidly towards him.

"Why I fight..." Ryu took a sharp intake of breath. His face was free from strain as he stood into a wide-legged posture. His fingers twitched with the effort of keeping so still, his body tense, frozen, for just a few more seconds.

"Why I fight..." he silently repeated, contemplating the journey Akuma made him take just to re-discover himself. With a terrifying growl, Ryu stepped in front of the deadly fireball. Akuma peered through the lift of smoke, expecting to hurl him screaming to the ground, but his mouth sagged as he watched Ryu parry the fireball with the slightest flick of his hand.

"What is that power?" Akuma uttered, stunned, ceasing the preparation of the _Raging Demon._ The energy he had created was powerful enough to render a building to debris, yet Ryu was diminishing the fireball with his fingers alone, until the ball evaporated.

Dashing through the flame, Ryu caught Akuma in the face with a straight punch, then switched the strikes to the ribs, stomach, and heart. The red aura around him dimmed. His body became unburdened from an ache he had felt for years. Freed from the Dark Hadou, Ryu was stronger. The determination on Ryu's face was just as real as the last time Akuma had fought Gouken.

"Brother..." Akuma gurgled, made hostage to Ryu's tight grip around his thick neck. He could feel Ryu's wheezing breath on his face, staring at him with one good eye that remained intensely astute. His shaking body betrayed his effort but his blood-glistened face was peaceful, proving that the pain searing through him could never weaken him. If he hadn't been wearing the red headband, Akuma would have sworn he was staring down at a young version of the brother he killed.

"Eyes are windows to the soul, Akuma, but you have none," Ryu said evenly, his face absent of any of the fear he had once felt for the demon. He looked into Akuma's eyes and saw nothing. The tendons on his arms pulsed to the point of bursting. He squeezed hard until he was able to feel the faintest beating of a heart.

Akuma rumbled with laughter, making no effort to retreat from Ryu's grasp.

"I waited the day I would fight you again," Akuma mumbled, baring teeth to mimic a faint smile. A small trace of blood seeped through the crack of his mouth. Wrenching Ryu's hand open, he quickly released himself, and teleported back to take a good look at the damage he had done to the limping warrior.

"Enough!" he continued in a roar, stamping his feet hard on the blood-stained concrete. "You have tested my strength, now you shall learn that our art is used for killing alone."

Akuma growled, shaking in a solid wide stance as the red aura around him fired with great strength.

Ryu closed his eyes, picturing Sakura's bright smiling features morph into Ken's confident face. His heart pulsed fiercely with the thought of never seeing them again, if he lost this fight. He thought of Tawnya and the suicidal tortures she had endured under Akuma's control, and Guy's and Ken's illegal suffering from the _Raging Demon_. Gingerly, he thumbed the thick skin around his heart, and he felt his heart's thunderous beats. His emotions were fueled by the people he loved. He felt the joys of friendship, the sadness of a lost life, and the pride in someone else's achievements. On the other hands, Akuma had traded his human emotions for the sake of infinite power. The lines on his face were void of any sentiment or value for life itself. Ryu smiled ever so slightly. So long as he had people he cared for, he would always have a reason to train and better himself, for them.

"You desire the ultimate fight through your aggression," Ryu spoke softly, despite the intense pain of his open wounds and broken bones. "You took upon yourself to master the dark arts by killing your family, to pave the path of the strong, and for what?" His knuckles crunched one by one as he tightened his hand. "You have no purpose, Akuma, and you shall leave no legacy."

Ryu smeared the blood away from his ears, then ran at Akuma with his hands clenched tight in front of him. Their fists collided. The impact caused the towering apartments around them to shake, clouding the scene with dust that escaped from the concrete. Ryu grinded his fist into Akuma's reddened face, and felt something crack beyond his jaw. He hopped on his toes, bouncing on the balls of his feet, penetrating his enemy with kicks that had Akuma momentarily winded.

"You give no heart in the fight," Ryu spat, the red headband flaring behind him. "Lack of emotion makes you weak," he growled, lunging a punch deep into Akuma's toughened stomach before breaking his jaw open with the opposite fist.

"I know that now," he continued, trapping his enemy in a roundhouse kick. The blow was hard, and Akuma's neck snapped back. Unable to move from his hunched position, he retched.

"The art to kill stops here," Ryu hissed in a crouched position, his knuckles cracking under the fighting mitts before leaping high into the air, screaming, " _SHIN-SHORYUKEN!_ "

A mess of blood splattered onto the ground. Akuma clicked his jaw back into place with a harsh twist of his hand, then teleported back over the rubble and craters they had created. Desperate, he brought his hands together behind him, instantly rousing a heat of energy that melted away the rope that held his dark gi together.

Ryu's eyes glinted from the lethal fireball that magnified in Akuma's hands. He gnashed his teeth, then blew out air as the fireball grew ferociously. Ryu smiled slightly, his arms moving fluidly in front of him, until small sprites of blue energy sparked between his hands.

" _METSU!_ " Akuma suddenly roared, releasing the comet red fireball that sonically sped towards his foe.

" _DENSHIN_..." Ryu cried, shaking in his stance with his arms now drawn back. He knew the _Metsu_ had the power to kill, but as its counterpart, the _Denshin_ would neutralize it.

"... _HADOU-KEN!_ " he yelled with his lips curled, thrusting the blue energy towards the more superior fireball. He saw a blur of Akuma's silhouette in front of him, his white teeth flashing in a sneer, until the fireball suddenly exploded.

There was a deafening bang. It was followed by crashes of windows that broke free from the apartments. Ryu flew back, feeling his skin slashed by splinters of glass and fragments of rock. His head thudded against solid ground. He groaned, clutching at his ribs with shaky hands. As he squirmed, something hot flashed deep in his shoulder joint, letting him know that the bone had been broken. Then came an eerie silence. With great effort, he squinted, seeing gray mists shadowing the surrounding area.

"Akuma," he spluttered in between coughs, feeling his lungs choke with the deluge of debris that lingered in the air.

He crawled forward, using the strength of his left arm, and heaved himself up to his trembling knees.

"Akuma?" Ryu called again, unable to see any living thing move beyond the darkness.

His heart jolted at the devastation around him. The once-standing condominium towers were rubble piled in front of him like that of a war-torn city. Ryu blinked his eyes rapidly until moisture returned to them.

"Sensei?" a young voice cried.

"SAKURA!" he yelled, finding the strength to stand on his feet.

He desperately looked around, unable to make out the shapes that lay still on the ground. He wanted to call out to her, but instead he coughed blood against his arm. Rocks cracked under his feet. As he scrutinized the ground with a squinting eye, he tread carefully. The silence of her voice had almost terrified him. There was only a dizzying hum in the air.

"Sakura?" Ryu called loudly, sucking air that sent cuts through his chest.

He stood, breathing hard, then he felt his ankle caught by the weak grip of a hand.

Ryu swiveled around, his breath strangled. Sakura smiled feebly at him from the ground. Her forehead was cut open, and it had stained the white headband red. Ignoring the sharp twinge of his joints, Ryu grabbed her up in a mighty hug, holding her so close enough that she could feel his heart thumping rapidly.

"You're alright, you're alright," he muttered, relieved, tracing the back of her hair with his fingers.

"Ugh, Sensei, you're squashing me," Sakura wheezed, tapping him on the shoulder for release. He shook, his heart heavy with an emotion that made him hold onto her tighter, in spite of her muttering protests.

"I know why I fight now," his voice faltered, nuzzling his head against her shoulder.

His eyes suddenly flung open distracted by the sounds of heavy footeps over the rubble. Ryu crunched his fists, expecting to see Akuma before him, but he caught his breath from the surprise of something warm touch his wounded shoulder.

"You shall finally test your strength against me once you've recovered, boy," Gouken said warmly, smiling down at him.

###

About the Author

"Street Fighter: Dream Never Ends" is the first series of novels based on the popular fighting video-game, _Street Fighter_. With its 20-year gaming history, the Street Fighter novel has been written for loyal fans spanned across the world. The novel will appeal to readers of Barry Eisler, David Gemmell and Robert Crais, all of whom had greatly inspired the writing of Talyn Rahman-Figueroa.

Street Fighter novelist Talyn Rahman-Figueroa is a diplomatic director from London, United Kingdom. As a graduate of Japanese and diplomacy, and a former student of the Shotokan Arts, Rahman-Figueroa has dedicated much of her youth in exploring and understanding the depth and personality of her favourite character, Ryu.

Connect with the Author

Twitter: <http://www.twitter.com/blazeryu>

Facebook: <http://www.facebook.com/mstalyn>

Website: http://www.dreamneverends.com

