Another two chapter instalment of my story. Comments, criticisms, and 
the like are always welcome.

Chapter 7

"Ken, why are you doing this?" asked the blonde sitting beside him in
the ship's cabin. "Why suddenly take this trip to Japan? And who are
those two women with you and that man? Are they friends of yours that
you haven't told me about?"

"Eliza, that man is the friend that I was talking about on our date. The
women are his friends and that means they're mine. We're going on this
trip because my friend could die and this is the only way that we might
save his life."

That had been the conversation that he'd had with Eliza some two days
ago. He'd been irritated, angry, helpless and worried all at the same
time. He was irritated by her stubborn questions regarding Ryu, Chun and
Sakura and their trip. He was angered by her insistence that she join
them. He felt helpless because he could do nothing more to help his
friend and worried not because Ryu's condition had deteriorated, which
it had, but by the worried expression on _sensei's_ face when he had
beheld his pupils. Such a look had only been reserved for _sensei's_
prized cherry tree when it had contracted a fatal disease and died.

At this point in time, all that Ken could do was wait and hope that his
friend would recover. That and he could train. The sound of his fists
striking against the sand filled punching bag was soothing to his ear.
It was a familiar sound and one that he had spent most of his life
growing up with. In his mind's eye, he could see the training room some
ten years earlier. Ryu would be off in the corner, training silently and
diligently while _sensei_ would be kneeling just to the side, offering
direction, advice and an occasional tap of his staff.

He banished even this pleasant memory, however, and allowed himself to
think of nothing other than his training. First, he detached himself
from his body, ignoring the persistent itch between his shoulder blades
and the soreness in his fists. Then he slowed his breathing down, his
heartbeat following suit a few moments later. Finally, and most
difficult of all, he relaxed his grasp on his concerns, forgetting that
his friend was laying comatose in a room a few feet down the hall and
forgetting that the woman he was interested in was here, on the island,
and not particularly pleased with him.

The sound of the sliding _shoji_ ruined his concentration and brought
Ken all the way back to the present and its concerns. He sighed and
turned to lean against the wall, collapsing against it and sliding down
to the mat as Sakura entered the training room with her portable stereo,
his present, tucked underneath her gi clad arm.

"Oh. Hi, Ken. Am I disturbing you or something?"

Ken shook his head and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "No. It's
okay. What's up?"

She put the stereo down and looked around the walls for a plug. Not
finding one, she sighed and laid the stereo off to the side and out of
the way. She made her way to the centre of the mat and said, as she
began to stretch, "Well, normally Ryu and I would be training. He'd show
me a few moves and dump me on the floor a few times and then he'd make
me repeat the moves till I was sore all over. I thought that I should
continue training, you know?"

"I get it," said Ken, rising. "So, what's the old teacher taught you?"

"Well, he's taught me a lot about how to breathe and about how to
protect myself and how to avoid fights. He talks a lot about what the
martial arts are and what they're for. I kind of feel guilty about it
but when he starts lecturing me it gets really boring and I want to fall
asleep. I shouldn't. I went and looked for him to teach me, but I do."

"Nothing wrong with that," said Ken. "You should know all that theory
stuff and everything about breathing. It'll probably save your life one
day, at least that's what _sensei_ says. I was talking more about moves,
though. Has he taught you any kicks yet?"

"Well, just the basic stuff," replied Sakura, somewhat embarrassed. "I
can do most of the things that you see a guy do on television but I
can't do any of those funky kicks that you two know. I can't do that
hurricane kick thing." Then she smiled and brightened, bringing her
hands together and concentrating. A small spark grew in between her
palms, finally flickering out of existence when she closed her eyes. "He
taught me how to do a fireball, though."

"Wow!" said Ken, impressed. "That's pretty good for a beginner."

"Thanks!" said Sakura, beaming. "I'll tell Ryu that you..." Her face
fell as she remembered her teacher's plight.

Ken, seeing the sudden shift in the young woman's emotions walked
forward and gently clasped her shoulders. "Ryu will be okay. Believe me.
He's taken worse beatings and lived. He'll pull through."

"Well," said Sakura, wiping away her tears with a finger, "I guess
you're right. You know better than any of us here except for your
master."

"So? How's about that sparring?"

"Okay," said Sakura, falling back into a defensive crouch: a position
that Ken recognised as one which Ryu used so often. "I'm ready. Just
take it easy on me, okay?"

"Right," agreed Ken, thinking about his words and trying to reassure
himself that Ryu would indeed pull through.

* * * * *

"Gouken-sama," said Chun, her eyes demurely downcast and her hands held
together in her lap. She was kneeling in front of the master clothed in
a dark _kimono_ upon the straw _tatami_ in what passed for his office.
They were but a _shoji_ wall and a sliding door removed from the thin
pallet on which Ryu was lying comatose. After a glance towards the
aforementioned door, she asked the master, who was seated on the floor
before her, "Will Ryu recover?"

The old man looked at her carefully before answering, his dark eyed gaze
opaque but warm. Nearing his sixties, Gouken was a shrunken shadow of
the man he had been. His skin was wrinkled and his hands were gnarled
and covered with age spots. His joints ached from arthritis. Still, he
was a vigorous person and there was a spring in his step that would have
been the envy of men half his age. At this moment, however, the spring
in his step was all but gone and he looked every one of his 58 years.

He replied to her in quiet Japanese, "Ryu will recover or he will not.
He is at the threshold of death and the next few hours will determine if
he survives."

"I see," replied the investigator.

"You told me last night, Li Chun-san, that Ryu intercepted a blow meant
for you. I must ask what had transpired prior to that event."

"Ryu was taking part in a tournament and I... I was the investigator for
Interpol assigned to infiltrate the tournament using Ryu's cover and
find enough evidence to put warrants out for the arrest of the
tournament's main sponsor: Shadowlaw. The tournament had taken us to
Seattle, where Ryu fought a man named Balrog, whom Interpol suspected of
being a member of Shadowlaw. Ryu won the fight and afterwards, while we
were talking, Balrog tried to attack me. Ryu took the blow... It was
meant for me. I knocked Balrog out afterwards and took Ryu back to the
hotel."

"There's more to it," said Gouken, his eyes closed in thought. "Your
hesitation speaks of a falsehood which must be told to set your heart at
ease."

"I... You're right, Gouken-sama. I lied to Ryu and his pupil about who I
was and my purpose in being with them. I revealed as such to Ryu before
his battle with Balrog."

"You do not feel that you deserved to be protected?" asked Gouken, his
eyes opening.

Chun shook her head and pressed her hands more tightly into her lap. "I
lied to him and what's worse, my instincts knew that something was wrong
with the entire situation and I didn't say anything about it."

"But he had to fight the match or your investigation could not have
continued, correct?"

"Well, yes..." replied Chun before being interrupted.

"And Ryu protected you of his own free will. Also, there was no way for
you to know what would have happened beforehand. There is no way to
defend against the unknown."

"I suppose..." agreed Chun, doubtfully. "But..."

"Ryu must have known the danger, too, Chun-san. Also, injury must be
expected when one enters battle and a warrior who shies away from injury
cannot expect to win a battle. And there is one final thing, as well. Do
you know why we study _karate_, _kungfu_, _taekwondo_ and the other
arts?"

"To be able to defend ourselves?"

"No, Chun-san," answered the old man with a shake of his head and a deep
sigh. "In the beginning, warriors attacked peasants with swords and
spears and clubs and the peasants died because they could not defend
themselves with their hoes and rakes and farming tools. Then a group of
men and, some say women, banded together to learn how to use their tools
as weapons to fight the invaders. The martial arts were born on that day
when those brave peasants defended their country men."

"We learn the martial arts to defend others, Chun-san. Ryu was only
doing what he was taught. The blame for this incident rests only with
Balrog and myself for having him taught him as such." The old man
sighed, rising carefully to his feet. "Chun-san, you must forget this
guilt in your heart. One cannot go forward if one cannot forget the
past. Do so now and hope for my student's recovery."

He walked towards the sliding door that led back into the rest of the
dojo, his steps precise and short. He turned towards her and spoke to
her again before leaving. "Forgive yourself, Chun-san. He would." And
with that, he was gone, sliding the door closed behind him with a quiet
thud.

Chun remained kneeling on the floor for a moment, reflecting upon the
old teacher's words. Then rising, she moved into the smaller chamber in
which Ryu lay unconscious and prayed, kneeling on the _tatami_ before
him.

* * * * *

"Get up! Show me what you're made of," was the giant's demand. His
single eye stared down in disgust. He who'd won so many tournaments,
defeated so many other men, had been a mere diversion, a way to pass the
time. "Is this the best that you can do, boy? I expected so much more
out of you."

Rising painfully to a knee, the young man tried to respond, to answer
the giant's challenge. Blood trickled down beneath the scarlet ribbon
wrapped about his hair, adding another stripe of red on his face. His
_gi _was torn and soiled with his sweat, the dirt on the field and his
blood. The pain flared in his thigh and he collapsed again with a groan
as the giant cackled with amusement.

"You're no warrior; only a pretender," said the giant, lifting the man
he dwarfed by the front of his _gi_. The giant raised him up to eye
level, staring into the smaller warrior's eyes. In them he saw pain,
pain from the many blows he had taken on his calf, pain from the arm
that had been dislocated and pain from the kicks to his ribs. Behind the
pain, though, the giant saw fear, and this a brought a smile to his
lips.

"A warrior does not fear death. That is a part of the _bushido_ code
that you Japanese treasure so much, is it not? Do you fear death? The
cold and the emptiness? The barren expanse of a world that cares nothing
for you? Has nothing for you?"

"No..." managed the smaller man.

"Do you fear the loneliness, then? The absence of light and friends?"

"No..."

"Then you fear the reception. You fear seeing friends whom you have
betrayed. Loved ones lost whom you did a disservice. Parents whom you
failed."

"No!" screamed the smaller man, twisting out of the bigger man's grasp.
He landed upon the ground, pivoted and kicked the giant just beneath the
chin, rocking the bigger man back as he leapt into the air and kicked
the giant again, this time with the force of a hurricane. When he
landed, the warrior continued the attack, his eyes red and berserk. He
rushed forward and struck the bigger man with his fists, pummelling
Sagat's chest and face with blows. Finally, gathering his strength, he
leapt straight up, fist outstretched, and smashed the bigger man's
chest, scoring and parting flesh as the bones of his hand collided with
the giant's massive jaw.

When he landed, out of breath and rage expended, Ryu rubbed his bloodied
fist, staring down at the giant in shock and dismay. Sagat's lifeblood
was flowing from the great wound and pooling upon the ground and before
his very eyes, the flesh was peeling back from the wound, revealing
muscles, viscera and bones.

"This didn't happen," thought Ryu, turning on the pallet.

Then, incredibly, the mostly skeletal Sagat rose up onto its feet, its
lower jaw lowering in a broad toothed smile. "Better," said Sagat, his
voice oddly hollow sounding, empty. The giant reared back, energy
gathering in his bony fingertips, and sent it all forward in a rush.
Ryu, his hands up to guard against the blast, caught it full and was
engulfed in flame, the image darkening to a single red character:
heaven.

* * * * *

"His pulse has gone up and his breathing is shallow, Gouken-sama. What
do we do?" asked Chun, frantic.

"We wait and see if Ryu survives," answered Gouken.

"But, _Sensei_!" exclaimed Ken. "There must be something that we can
do!"

"Patience, my student," said Gouken, holding up a restraining hand.
"Some people must fight demons on the way to their recovery. Ryu appears
to be one of these and he is fighting a battle with his personal demons
now."

"Will he win, _Sensei_?"

"There is no way of telling. One's demons are the perfect enemy, knowing
one's every weakness, and even those that one is not aware of. They are
strong, their stamina unmatchable and their fighting skill is
legendary."

"You're joking, right?" asked Sakura. "I mean, demons are cool but..."

Gouken silenced her with a look and said, "Sakura, before you had seen
the fireball technique, would you have said that it was possible?"

"Well, no..."

"And yet you can now generate a fireball within your palms and you have
seen your teacher generate one on several occasions. Do you doubt,
knowing that a normal human can produce a ball of fire from his hands,
that demons may exist?"

"I guess not," said Sakura glumly. After a moment, she asked, "Couldn't
we do something to help him fight? I don't know, maybe call the Japanese
equivalent of the ghost busters? Like a priest."

The other two looked towards the old man who shook his head. "Shinto
priests and Buddhist priests can exorcise demons and spirits only if
they are real. These demons are of Ryu's own creation. Only he can fight
them and possibly banish them. If he is strong enough of will, Ryu will
triumph and return to us. If not, he will die."

* * * * *

"You're a horrible son; a waste of our time and energy. To think that
your mother was on the delivery table for 12 hours just to give birth to
a boy like you. It is shameful! Shameful!"

"Your father is right, Ryu. We have spent every waking breath of our
lives preparing for the day that you would be born and to think that all
that effort and time was wasted...!" She turned towards her husband, who
wrapped her gently in his arms.

"Is this the kind of son you are, Ryu?" asked his father in an angry
tone. "You've brought shame upon us all! What did we do in our previous
lives to deserve this? Surely you must be a punishment from the gods! We
must rectify this situation immediately, my wife. We haven't any time to
waste. Surely the gods will look down upon us in favour if we repent of
our wrong doings and do penance."

"You're completely right, Dear. We must rid ourselves of this... This
wretch as soon as possible. Shall we throw him off a cliff, drown him,
or merely shoot him with a gun?"

"Hmm," said his father. "Those are all attractive alternatives but we
must also consider the state of our karma if we are to perpetrate those
deeds. We will still be killing a life, a wretched life to be sure, but
it is still a life."

"Maybe the gods will forgive us if we leave him and do our penance
then."

"That's a splendid idea! We'll go right away." His father smiled down at
his mother and then turned towards him, the smile melting from his
features. "You will not see us again, Ryu. Remember that this is all
your fault. It was you who drove us to this, you who caused us to die.
You who were too enamoured of your martial art that we were forced to
drive to the ferry to see you. It was your fault that we died in that
accident. Your fault!"

"No," said Ryu, shaking his head as the accusing images of his mother
and father disappeared, fading into mist. "This isn't right. You died in
a car accident with a drunk driver. You wanted to see me. You loved me.
It's not my fault... It's not my fault."

"Oh, but it is," said a voice from the mists. "It was your choice to
move to the island and train. Your mother begged you not to go but you
could not be dissuaded."

"No," denied Ryu, shaking his head in violent disagreement. "Mother
encouraged me to go. She said it would help me become disciplined and
prepare me for school. She wanted me to go!"

"How the memories play tricks on those who dislike their past!" said the
voice again, laughing.

"Who are you?" yelled Ryu, looking frantically through the thick mist.
He began to run through the mists, his feet flying over the cold ground
as he searched for the owner of the voice. "Why are you lying to me? Who
sent you?"

"Why, you sent me," answered the voice as its owner appeared, walking
through the mists ahead. He was clad in a dark gi but that was where his
similarities to Ryu ended. His hair was fiery red, seeming to burn in
the dark, and he was clearly taller and much more muscular. His eyes
were red, too, and his face was etched with a cruel expression. "As to
why I am here..."

He laughed and opened his right fist, revealing a ball of crimson fire.
"This fireball has your name on it, Ryu. It will send you to heaven or
to hell... But that is not my decision," said the stranger, launching
the fireball forward at great speed with a toss.

* * * * *

"He's stopped breathing!" shouted Ken, waking Sakura and Chun. Chun rose
immediately to the wounded warrior's side to see for herself the truth
of the blond's words, her face falling when she saw it was true. Sakura,
her eyes wide in disbelief, only stared at the body of her teacher.

"Ken, Chun-san: move away from Ryu," commanded Gouken in a quiet voice.

Ken responded automatically to the words of his teacher, moving away but
Chun looked up, startled and a bit angry. "Gouken-sama!" she exclaimed,
not moving from her position. "I know CPR. I might be able to revive
him..."

"Yes, you probably do know CPR. Still, move away."

"I... Yes, Gouken-sama," agreed Chun finally, angrily turning away.

The old karate master kneeled behind Ryu's head and placed his palms
squarely on the temples of his student and concentrated. Energy began to
coruscate from his body, rising in waves like heat off a sidewalk on a
hot day. And then, amazingly, he vanished.

* * * * *

Ryu flew through the air and landed heavily upon his back, the force of
his opponent's blow knocking the wind from his lungs. His vision was
blurry and tinged with red, a red tinge coming from the blood that
streamed down from a cut above his right eyebrow. Still, he rose to his
feet, only to receive several rapid blows to his chest and stomach that
doubled him over. He felt a hand grasp his hair and pull him up to his
feet.

"You're weak, Ryu," taunted his opponent, lifting him up so that they
were both at eye level. "I've met children with more power than you.
You're not even worth the effort and you certainly don't deserve to
live." He flexed the fingers of his right hand and straightened them,
strange energy rising from his stiffened fingers.

"Then fight me," said Gouken, his voice strangely hollow. "Come here,
demon, and fight one who is prepared to do battle with one of your
kind."

"I know you," said the demon, dropping Ryu like a sack of potatoes onto
the ground. "You are the teacher of this ludicrous excuse for a warrior.
It is you who should bare the brunt of the punishment for his
inadequacy."

"Then come," challenged Gouken. "Show me this punishment that you speak
of."

The demon screamed and rushed forward, his body seeming to blur and jump
forward. He appeared right in front of the old teacher, his stiffened
fingers emanating energy. With these he struck, rapidly and repeatedly,
punching through flesh with the greatest of ease. Gouken smiled
beatifically as the assault continued, infuriating the demon, who struck
again and again in quick succession.

Then glowing red light surrounded the old teacher and the demon, whose
hands were still buried within the old teacher's body. The light shifted
colour, darkening to crimson and then lightening to pink and finally to
bright white. A scream issued from the lips of the demon, which faded
away from view, leaving only the terrible wounds it had inflicted.

And with the demon went the light, extinguished like a candle as the old
teacher staggered, blood flowing in rivers from the dozens of wounds on
his torso. Still, he trudged forward to the place where his student lay
and collapsed, though not before he had roused Ryu with a light slap.

"Ryu, wake up. It is over now, for the time being."

"_Sensei_..." said Ryu, his voice as weak as a baby's. "You're wounded.
Let me help you to your feet."

"Ryu, you need not offer such aid: I am dying but you must not grieve
for me. The demon that you faced is a creation of the dark part of your
soul: the jealousy, rage, fear and guilt that you harbour within you. At
this point in time you are not strong or skilled enough to defeat him.
Neither are you ready to learn the techniques that will allow you to
defeat him."

"What am I to do, _Sensei_? Am I to die?"

"You may if you cannot defeat him."

"But how can I defeat him if you won't teach me the techniques?"

The old master clapped his student lightly on the head, the motion
causing fresh blood to spurt from his wounds and further stain the
already dirty white gi of his student. "Ask no such questions, Ryu. If
you can defeat him, you will. If not, you shall die."

"Then what was the point in sacrificing your life?" asked Ryu in an
agonised voice. "If I'm going to die, why die with me?"

"That is my choice to make, my student," answered Gouken with a shake of
his head. "As it was your choice to save your companion. The battle is
not hopeless, Ryu. Search within yourself and you will find the answer.
The path of the warrior and life is fraught with such peril and this is
only to be one of many. I have faith that you will fight well, my
student." Then the old man lay back on the ground, his eyes closing.

"_Sensei_!"

"Do not grieve," whispered Gouken, turning his head towards his student
with the last ounce of his strength. "Death is a part of life and I
would much rather have died in battle defending the ones I cared for
rather than die an invalid in bed. You have much to live for, so go.
Return to your friends and companions. They are waiting for you."

And then the body of the old teacher crumbled into dust.

* * * * *

"He... He's coming to!" shouted Ken.

Sakura let out a whoop of joy and wrapped her teacher in a tight embrace
as Ken looked on, a broad smile on his face. Chun smiled, too, as tears
worked their way down her cheeks. Her hand stole across to take one of
Ryu's, her grip tight on his larger appendage.

"I... I'm back at the dojo," said Ryu, his voice quiet.

"The operative word being 'back'. You had us worried there for a moment,
Ryu," said Ken, a mock angry expression on his face. "Don't ever do that
to us again or I'll wipe the floor with you."

"I'll try not to," said Ryu. "This one time was painful enough."

"Well, you better not," said Sakura, punching him gently in the arm. The
young woman was crying and unabashedly relieved that her teacher had
survived. "'Cause if you do I'm going to beat you into a bloody pulp
like you beat up Guy."

"Very well, Sakura," said Ryu in as solemn a tone as he could manage. "I
won't."

"Ryu," said Chun, moving into his field of vision and relinquishing her
tight grip on his hand. "Gouken-sama tried to do something and it
obviously worked. Only, where is he?"

Ryu closed his eyes and took a few moments before answering. When he
finally did, he had composed himself and spoke in an even, perhaps cool,
tone. "_Sensei_ has passed away. He... He died to save my life and..."
Then Ryu broke down, tears streaming from his eyes as he allowed his
grief to pour forth in a torrent, his friends joining him in his loss.

Chapter 8

The stone slab was very plain, its only decoration the chiselled name of
the man it commemorated. A small portrait of the master, depicting him
when he had been vital and strong, leaned at the base of the stone,
along with a small red jar filled with rice and lit sticks of incense.
Thin trails of smoke rose from the slender, dark red incense sticks and
the bitter scent they produced filled the air.

The picture's image was burned into the mind of the young man, who sat
in the middle of the training mat, his legs crossed beneath him. He
wouldn't permit another image to enter his mind, of the master's death.
It had been savage, cruel and merciless. No quarter had been given in
the struggle, not even when it had been begged for. The one eyed killer
had been single minded in his purpose and nothing, not words, not pleas,
not the intervention of the master's young students had been able to
stay the cyclops' hand from the killing blow.

Then the young man stood up suddenly, rising to his feet so swiftly that
he felt a bit light-headed. Recovering, he fell into an offensive stance
and lashed out with his fists and feet as he duelled with his imagined
opponent. He leapt up high into the air, dodging an imagined sweep and
rolled to the right when he landed, avoiding a powerful, imaginary bone
shattering kick to his thigh. He concentrated and lashed out with his
fists, releasing a burst of energy that burned a short trail through the
air before the chaotic ball dissipated.

Dan Hibiki smiled and laughed out loud. "I'm ready for you, Sagat," he
declared, brandishing his fist. "I will have my vengeance for my
Father's death. This I swear!"

* * * * *

"Report, Li. What's the status of your operation?"

"I've found my man, Chief, only... There's a small problem."

She heard a long sigh on the other end. The chief's voice, when he
answered, was grim. "Fine then. Tell me what this problem of yours is.
Maybe there's something that we can do about it on our end."

"Ryu knows, Sir," she answered, ignoring the banging on the door. "He
knows who I am and he knows about Shadowlaw. In short, he knows just
about everything."

The Chief swore, his voice drifting into dozens of languages as he
searched for enough expletives to satisfy his frustration. When he
answered, his tone was angry. "There's not much we can do, then. Scrub
the mission and get back to headquarters on the double. We'll put
another agent on the job and..."

"That won't be necessary, Chief," interrupted Chun. "I told Ryu who I
was and everything else."

"You...! You what!" he asked, his astonishment overriding his anger.
"Why in the world did you do that?"

"Trust me, Chief. I trust Ryu and I think that his co-operation will
help the investigation." Silence met her response and she sighed. "Look,
he was already nosing around and he suspected something was up. Besides,
he's already heavily involved with the whole street fighting scene and
his active co-operation can only be an asset. I owe him, too."

"I heard about that," said the Chief. "You okay? Balrog's one of
Shadowlaw's most dangerous hit men and he's not exactly their most
stable man, either."

This time it was her turn to pause before answering. "I'm okay," said
the investigator at last. "I'll give the full report to you after this
whole thing is done and over with. All I can say, Chief, is that I trust
Ryu with my life: he won't betray us."

"Very well. Keep in touch."

She heard a click over the line and then another before the dial tone
came on. She replaced the handset and left the booth, ignoring the dirty
look she received from the old woman who'd been waiting to use the
phone. Instead, she crossed the street and joined the two people waiting
for her on the bench. The younger of the two, Sakura, jumped up to greet
her, her mouth spilling rapid-fire questions.

"What did the Chief say? Can you keep investigating? Is it okay for us
to help out?"

"He didn't like it..." started Chun, before being wrapped in a
tremendous embrace that threatened to squeeze the breath from her lungs.

"Yes!" exclaimed Sakura, releasing her hold on the older woman. She
smiled, revealing her bright white teeth, and made a fist with her
right, raising it high into the air. "We'll take Shadowlaw down and
we'll get them back for everything that they've done."

The young woman felt a restraining hand on her shoulder and she lowered
her arm, an embarrassed blush colouring her cheeks red. She turned back
and saw an amused smile on her teacher's face and the blush deepened.
"We will, though, won't we?" she asked him, a hopeful expression on her
countenance. "I mean, we're the good guys, aren't we?"

Ryu's face darkened for a moment and his hands involuntarily travelled
to his chest to finger the thick bandages wrapped about his ribs. They
were wrapped very tightly about him and they bulged very noticeably
underneath his shirt. "I don't know about that. _Sensei _was one of the
good guys too, I think. We'll just do everything we can: that's all we
can do. Speaking of which, the next fight will be taking place here in
Japan."

They heard a deep rumbling noise moving towards them and they turned in
time to see a midnight black convertible, a new Corvette, come to a
smooth stop next to them on the street. The engine purred loudly, like a
giant cat, and the driver and the passenger waved, gesturing for the
three to join them in the car. Sakura needed no further encouragement
and was already halfway there before either Chun or Ryu had even started
moving.

"This is so cool!" shouted Sakura, her hands travelling almost of their
own volition over the convertible's vibrant dark chassis. Both the
driver and her passenger smiled at Sakura's exuberance, gesturing for
her to take a seat in the back. Accepting their invitation, Sakura
placed her hands on the Corvette's door and vaulted into the centre of
the rear seat, landing with a small thud in the middle of the tan
leather interior. She leaned forward between the two front seats and
stared at the car's stereo system. Sakura exclaimed, "I mean, if Kimiko
could see me now she'd die of jealousy!"

"Thank you," said Eliza. "I think I'll take that as a compliment."

"You're just in time," said Ryu, joining them at that moment, Chun a few
steps behind of him. "The fight will begin in only an hour. I need to
get to the meeting place and prepare myself."

Ken listened to the last with a grim expression on his face, a frown
creasing his cheeks. "I don't think so," said he, holding a hand up to
forestall any arguments that his friend could put forward. "You're not
healthy right now; you won't be for two more weeks at least. So I talked
to my agent while you three were out making your phone call and he made
a few arrangements with the tournament sponsors."

Ryu looked suspicious but resigned. He asked, "What arrangements?"

"I'm taking your place for the time being, until you get better at
least."

Ryu sighed, a bit unhappily. "I expected that," he said, at last. "I
suppose it was that or drop out of the tournament entirely."

"Well, don't worry about it, Ryu," said Ken. "You'll be healthy soon
enough, so enjoy your time off."

"I suppose," replied Ryu, dubiously. "I guess I can teach Sakura..."

"Yes! That's exactly what you can do!" shouted Ryu's young student. She
continued on excitedly. "You can teach me how to do that _shoryuken_
thing and that spin kick that you do. Then I can join the tournament and
face you in a match and become the master!"

Chun, Ken, and Eliza exchanged looks and laughed while Ryu held his head
and sighed. Sakura continued on.

* * * * *

He gasped as he pulled out of his turn and felt the blood return to his
head in a rush. His vision returned very slowly as the darkness that had
clouded his eyes rescinded. When his vision had completely cleared, he
eased his throttle up and scanned the skies. His wingman came up on his
port side and waved, giving the signal for the next manoeuvre.

Signing his readiness, the pilot pulled back on his stick and his
fighter began to climb. His wingman brought his own fighter around and
the two military jets climbed together in a tight spiral. The trails
that the two planes left behind resembled nothing so much as a giant
barber pole and at the top, the two planes flew apart at high speed and
both plummeted towards the ground.

Then, at precisely the right moment, he pulled his stick up hard and
felt the blood rush into his eyes, filling them with a red film. He
relinquished the grip he had on the stick with his left hand and
deployed his landing gear just seconds before his fighter touched down
and came to a bumpy landing before a cheering crowd of onlookers.

After he had cut his engines, the pilot popped open his cockpit and
climbed carefully out of his plane. A pair of men came out of the crowd
to greet him as he took off his helmet and put on his glasses. One of
the men was unfamiliar and was, as far as he could see, a civilian. He
was wearing a plain grey suit and he could have fit in with any number
of businessmen. Of course, on an air force base he stuck out like a sore
thumb.

The pilot was thoroughly familiar with the other man, though, as he was
his immediate superior and a close friend as well. He was also quite
possibly the most recognisable man on the air base. He was certainly one
of the biggest and his hair was quite... Distinctive, though Charlie's
hairstyle was quite unique in its own right.

"What can I do for you, Guile?" he asked, as he pushed his glasses up
higher and onto the bridge of his nose.

"Charlie," said Guile in greeting. Indicating his companion with a turn
of his head, he said, "I'd like you to meet Lt. John Dennon of
Interpol."

Charlie took the lieutenant's proffered hand and shook it. "Good to meet
you, Lieutenant."

"The same," replied Dennon. "I suppose you know why I'm here?"

Charlie nodded. "I'm ready to go wherever I'm needed but I'm still not
entirely clear on a whole bunch of things. I know this is about drugs
but I'm still not sure why we're needed. Isn't this something that the
FBI should be handling? Crime isn't exactly under the jurisdiction of
the U.S. Air Force."

Dennon replied to the answer very quickly, as if expecting it. "No,
crime isn't under the Air Force's jurisdiction and the FBI is involved
in that aspect of the situation. But this investigation involves a whole
lot more than just drug trafficking. There have been rumours, just
rumours mind you, that certain military supplies have been smuggled into
Thailand and other regions."

"Nukes, you mean," said Guile, adding his voice to the conversation. The
officer wore a tight frown on his face and the skin around his eyes
tightened.

"And biological weapons, too. That's why you're involved, to sort out
what sort of military situation we might have on our hands here."

"Shouldn't he be involved then?" asked Charlie, pointing back to his
flat topped superior. "I mean, he's the ranking officer here."

"He also happens to be a very famous officer," said Dennon, shrugging
his shoulders. "He wouldn't survive too long undercover; his face is too
well known. You on the other hand, have just as good a combat record as
Guile does and nobody knows who you are."

Charlie wasn't exactly pleased by the lieutenant's words but he shrugged
and accepted it. "Okay. When do you want me to go?"

"Now," said Dennon, reaching into his breast pocket. He withdrew an
envelope and handed it to the pilot. "This includes your mission
directives, identification, money and credit cards. All other pertinent
information will be given to you by contacts in the area."

"Anything else that I need to know?"

"We already have a number of operatives in the area but you'll probably
run into only one of them. Her name's Li and she'll be with a fairly
large group of people. There's a picture of her and the members of her
party enclosed in the envelope that I just gave you. We think they have
the best chance of penetrating Shadowlaw. It would be a good idea to
follow them; they'll probably take you to where you need to go. If you
can't, there's additional information in the package that will help you
get in."

"Got it," said Charlie, taking in all of the information. He tucked the
envelope into a pocket on his flight suit and saluted. "This sounds like
a piece of cake compared to what happened in 'Nam. It should be easy."

"Let's just hope that your words don't come back to haunt you," said
Dennon, ominously.

* * * * *

They were standing a few hundred feet from the beach, several miles away
from the dojo. The wind was picking up and the sound the waves made as
they crashed into the rocks on the shore was thunderous, deafening.

Ken had changed into his red _gi_ and was sitting down on a large rock,
waiting for the referee to arrive. The opponent he was to face, an
Italian woman named Rose, had already been waiting for them, and had
seated herself down on an old log that had washed up onto the beach. He
glanced at her sceptically, not sure if she was seriously meaning to
fight. The Italian was wearing a long body hugging dress that extended
down to her calves and a yellow shawl was draped about her shoulders.

Rose had glanced at him for a brief moment and something in that violet
eyed gaze had caused the small hairs on his neck to rise on end. He
wasn't sure, but there seemed to be a definite charge in the air.

Then the referee arrived, appearing suddenly at the top of a sandy dune
like an apparition. The black robed official raised his arm and made a
swift chopping motion, signalling that the match should begin.

Ken's opponent rose to her feet gracefully as pale blue fire began to
collect in her fists. The flames spread from her hands and surrounded
the woman like a second skin and she advanced towards him, seeming to
glide across the light sand. The glowing blue fire flared brightly,
blinding him, and then she attacked.

He was barely able to defend himself. His vision came back only just
before she had struck him and he was forced to roll to his left in order
to avoid a flurry of kicks and punches. His retreat continued as she
pursued him, lashing out with her foot and catching him on the side of
his chest before he had regained his footing. The blow staggered him and
he mechanically brought up his arms to parry her attacks, managing a
single glancing blow to her shoulder in the furious exchange.

She seemed to draw back from the contact, a speculative expression on
her olive countenance. Rose drew her shawl from her shoulder and pulled
it taut before her. A spark gathered at one end of the shawl and grew
steadily. Then, wielding the yellow shawl like a whip, she snapped it
forward, launching the ball of searing energy in his direction.

The blond warrior was frozen for a moment with shock. As far as he'd
known, only himself, Ryu, _Sensei_, and Sagat had been in possession of
fireball type attacks, and her knowledge of a similar technique had
startled him nearly into stupidity. Recovering quickly, though, he leapt
over the crackling ball of energy and landed in front of the Italian
woman. Quickly he lashed out with a series of kicks and punches, landing
several heavy blows on her torso, and he knocked her back.

Before he could pounce on her, though, she whipped out her shawl again.
This time the yellow weapon wrapped about his right leg and she tugged
upon it, causing the blond fighter's steps to falter as he nearly lost
his balance. That brief respite from combat gave Rose the time to widen
the distance between herself and her opponent, and she took the
opportunity, leaping far away from the blond's pursuit.

"You are powerful..." she said, bringing up her shawl in readiness for
the next attack.

Ken looked amused. "Thanks," he replied, as he gathered his strength and
began channelling it into a fireball. "I'm glad you noticed."

He released the fireball then, and watched with great satisfaction as
the flaming ball of mystical fire sped through the air towards the
crouched Italian. Instead of avoiding the projectile, though, she stayed
calmly in its path and caught it within the folds of her shawl, which
glowed a bright blue in colour as the fireball was absorbed and its
energy dissipated.

"...But you were not the one I was meant to meet today," said Rose, as
if to finish her earlier statement. She lowered her arms and wrapped the
shawl about her shoulders again. "I surrender," said the tall woman.

The referee nodded and officially ended the match with another chop of
his arm. His task completed, the referee nodded once at both combatants
and then he left as he had come: unnoticed and quietly.

"Why the hell did you do that?" roared Ken, sudden anger reddening his
cheeks.

Rose replied in a calm, soothing tone that might have been more
appropriate had she been speaking to a young child. "My quarrel is not
with you, and I saw no reason to continue on this violent course that
you have plotted for yourself. You have proven yourself to me already
and I am duly impressed by your ability."

"What?" asked the blond warrior, clearly mystified by the Italian
woman's cryptic response.

Sakura and the rest of his friends joined him at that moment. Ryu's
young student looked disappointed and her lips were wearing a frown.
"That... That... That sucked," she said finally, blurting out the words.
She blushed bright red in embarrassment.

"What can I say?" said the blond in response, in a tone still laced with
anger. "She didn't seem to want to fight."

Rose nodded and said, in a matter of fact tone, "No, I did not. As I
said before, my quarrel is not with you. Moreover, it would profit our
enemy greatly if we were to injure each other at this juncture."

Sakura perked up as she listened to the older woman's speech. The
formality of Rose's words seemed to strike a chord and the young woman's
interest was clearly piqued. The teenager turned to the older woman and
gazed at her intently. "Enemy?" she asked. "Our enemy?"

Rose nodded gravely, the dark, wavy curls of her hair bobbing up and
down with every movement of her head. "We have a common enemy who would
like nothing better than to see us fight amongst ourselves and do his
dirty work for him. He is a powerful enemy, an extremely cunning enemy,
and sowing dissension among us would be but a single, lowly weapon in a
deadly arsenal of weapons, of which the deadliest affect the soul."

"Why even take part in this tournament at all, then?" asked Chun.

"Because the tournament's effects are twofold: positive and negative.
Divisions will be fostered between the combatants; that is natural.
However, that same combat shall weed out those warriors who are not
strong, leaving only those with true power remaining."

"Then you're looking for help?"

Rose nodded and she smiled thinly. "You are perceptive. I am not myself
powerful enough to defeat our enemy and I have been searching for such
men and women to aid me in my quest."

"So Ken one of the people that you've been searching for?" asked Eliza.
The blond woman had been attending to her boyfriend's injuries and,
after ascertaining that they had been of a decidedly minor nature, she
had proceeded to berate him for his utter foolishness in fighting.

The expression on Rose's face became decidedly guarded and she replied,
"Yes, Ken is one of those warriors with the power and strength to stand
against the foe--but he was not the one whom I have been searching for,
that I have spent years of my life searching for." She looked resigned.

Chun Li became visibly excited and she glanced at Ken, who looked as if
he had come to the same conclusion that she had reached. "Rose, do you
know the name of the man you were to be facing today?"

"Yes," she answered. She looked interested by the question and a sudden
hope began to burn in her. "His name was written in the stars and,
indeed, my tournament contact told it to me prior to my coming."

"And?"

"His name is Ryu."

"Well," said Ken. "Well, well, well. Rose, we haven't been formally
introduced yet." The blond extended his hand and she took it, shaking it
firmly. "My name's Ken, Ken Masters, and I was something of a last
minute replacement."

"You... Are not Ryu?" The hope was burning brightly in her eyes.

"Obviously," said the blond in reply. Ken indicated his long time friend
and waved him forward. "He's not much to look at, I'm afraid," said Ken,
in an apologetic tone, "but he's reasonably good--almost my equal, in
fact--but on the shelf right now. Rose, meet Ryu."

A wild joy surged through the Italian woman's eyes and the blue fire
flared around her anew. Fingers of the strange, mystical flame leapt
towards the dark haired fighter, wrapping him in an ephemeral embrace.

And then they drew back and faded, as Rose's expression became downcast
again. "No," she said. "You may be named Ryu but you are not the one.
There is no power within your body; nor any sign that you ever held
great power. Indeed," she said, turning the full focus of her
violet-eyed gaze on the Japanese man, "it is as if you are not even
alive."

Regards,

DucThe Truong
DWC @ <http://welcome.to/dwc>
Thinkin' different.