Scene 1
(The morning following the bar fight)

As her nose ever so softly wrinkled, her gentle cheek caressed a feather-stuffed pillow. Lilly was a dove lying protected in a blanketed white surrounding. Her comforter edged up around her pale shoulders and the sun gleamed bright rays of golden that fell across her face. Under the artificial halo appeared a resting expression contradicting her rapid movement that lay beneath her eyelids.
 

Endless discursive drivel echoed conversations filling the Fighter's Inn. Chairs clanked one another and rubbed gruffly against the floor. Bottles and glasses clashed violently against table tops or one another in drunken agreements. The masters of these inanimate objects cordially relaxed to and from while falling deeper and deeper away from the consciousness of a sober reality. -And if the endless noise of random voices didn't soothe any person's appetite, a kareoke machine stood upon a wooden platform. Upon the platform one could sing, dance, and drink all in unison. Many took advantage of this ability providing candid entertainment filling the area already expressing a false existence. In the audience at the bar, two disillusioned denizens sat satiated by alcoholic beverages.
 

"That's your fourth Long Island Ice Tea, Leng-fa," Yang grinned upon a wavering Lilly while clutching his 5th Molsen Ice. "I… tail ya," Lilly began blinking endlessly trying to decide which Yang to talk to, "-zise t fwom Lwong Wiseland tastes waaaay betta zan zat stoopid gween tea me mam alwayz maked me dwink… hiccup!" (Translation: This tea from Long Island tastes way better than that stupid green tea my mom always made me drink… hiccup!) Yang laughed through his alcoholic breath first confusing Lilly, "Huh??" After about a minute Lilly decided to join in the confusing comedy for no apparent reason. Her palm originally placed on Yang's silk red attire glided over his broad shoulder, up Yang's smooth neck, passed his bronze face and playfully messed his stylish bangs that dangled infront of his eyes teasing Lilly. Mysterious she thought through blank stares.

Rolling on her only healthy arm, Lilly adjusted her position and faintly stretched her lush lips to a smile complementing her flashback of the night before. A soft moan escaped her grin as she reached both arms above her head and pointed both sets of toes stretching. Thinking of her upcoming warm-up, which consisted of a 5 mile run and one hour practice of her flute on average,

Lilly glided her fingers over a firm feathered pillow. Momentous memories of last night raced her waking mind. Last night wasn't as memorable as the Sydney Opera House where thousands applauded her gift of music, but the one person whom she'd only know a few days already created a permanent place within her heart. Yang… cooed her mind causing a slight blush forming lightly against her bright face. Yang, in her mind, approached each day with equanimity and debonair.

His manners were exceptional, his attitude and intelligence were interchangeable and she couldn't help but admire the well-toned overpower arms relaxing from broad shoulders and limber back that ever so amiably curved down till she could view a provocative, muscular-

"Mmm…" She hummed almost silently enjoying her flashback. Beaming brightly, the sun drowned the darkness of the room entirely providing Lilly endless illumination upon her cabin bedroom. Her white washed furniture, chalk colored stoned brick chimney, wooden floors draped in creamed carpet and soft ivory birds sang delicately from her window sill surrounded by pearl colored flowers appeared surrounding Lilly in a never-ending dream.

But all of this she ignored as her smile faded as the unfamiliar touch and feel of her pillow perplexed her basic thoughts. I-I didn't know pillows have muscles… Her eyes, once shut, slowly raised bearing Lilly's confused vision. Emotions roared zealously as Lilly's defying eyes altered her confusion to complete surprise.
"N-No… t-this… m-my eyes… I swear this is a nightmare!" She spun clumsily. Her legs caught between the sheets worsened the state of sanity.

She fell back onto her queen size feather bed. This time, she landed on the muscular pillow, descending over it. Her mind flashed a dejavu consciousness. It was all coming back to her now. The entire night flashed over her eyes and she forcibly watched as one watches the television clutching a lottery ticket. The pillow made no sudden movements. Instead opened his eyes startled by the sudden actions of a foreign pillow falling over him. Lilly held her breath as the movie ended and what she saw was another person whom so happened to be in the same movie,
"Good morning, Yang…" -Such a basic greeting contradicted the true mood Lilly internally experienced.
 

Lilly feel between two barstools oozing with foreign beer. Her pant leg also soaked in what Kay called,
"My Heiny!!! Why you damned Zero!!" Yang motioned her to remain at rest not wanting his Leng-fa to be tarnished in anyway.
"I coon take cairez uv me-self sankyu vwey muuch!" Lilly countered Yang's demands as she reached for his un-occupied hand (The other one held a broken bar stool). Slipping in a puddle of Kay's Heiny, Lilly fell backwards roughly banging her head against another stool.

"Owie!!" She massaged her pre-bump and looked up at Yang, whom just heaved the stool across the room. Yang turned to her smirking,
"Ya know, since your down there…" Lilly face-faulted,
"Wha?!". He outstretched his hand causing Lilly to partially view his yellow finger-less gloves,
"-Hand me that beer bottle will ya, cutie?"

"Leng-fa…" Yang muttered under his breath. Lilly's voice hid deep in her throat, her arms stiffened and from the open window a soft draft blew in ruffling the curtains and crashed into her tensed body. The chill engulfed her causing numerous goose bumps and a chill running from her neck down. She softly shook; Her nails unconsciously dug into Yang's shirtless sides.

Leng-fa… he called me that last night. Last night… I barely remember. It appeared a false reality, a dream, yet it did happen. -And this is the reality that follows. After minutes of silence, Lilly finally met reality. She sat up quickly,

"I-I'm sorry. T-This is my fault… My feelings toward you… they became-" She made her way to the edge of her bed when a warm presence met her hand refusing to let go. "Please don't go," Yang softly pleaded. Pushing back his bangs Yang knew the infamous phrase "Speak now or forever hold your peace" would come in handy. Though, his memory slipped him from where he heard such a true sentence.

Powerful during tournament actions yet now gentle as if holding a fragile flower, Yang's hand soothed his palm up Lilly's bare arm and loosely around her neck pulling her closer towards him. Provoking me… he is… provoking. A calm fiery radiance drowned Lilly in an ocean of passion and flooding memories, similar memories giving her the same emotional embrace. She turned her focus staring deeply in Yang's dark velvet captivating gaze.
"I have no regrets of my previous actions. If I were given another chance…"
"-You are… given… another," she whispered interrupting him. Yang nodded shutting his eyes sparing no time in his advancing motions proving his pure emotions toward Lilly, his Yin.

From nearby, a protruding noise opposed the mood of the newest bed buddies.
"Macho, Macho man!!! I've gotta be a macho man!" Without knocking the singing voice entered, "Macho, Macho-" Slam The door, loudly interrupting the silence, was ignored by all three members inside Lilly's cabin. The man, grasping a dozen lilies in one hand and a military field jacket in the other halted his tune realizing-

"Aaron," Ring gasped.
"Inspector…" Yang nodded oblivious. After millenniums of silence only lasting about five earth minutes, Volpe turned to the table that held Yang's shirt crumpled upon it. He reached passed the shirt toward the flower vase removing wilting flora replacing the vase with the freshly picked milky-white lilies.

"Aaron," Ring repeated. Minutes of Aaron and a silent room never foreshadowed content.
"My apologies for interrupting. I'll never do it again," Volpe spoke never looking Lilly nor Yang in the eyes. Callused fingers touched the breathing petals in their prime before Aaron turned and began a disciplined military walk out the door one boot infront of the other.

"Yang," Volpe began, his usual smile non-existent.
"Sir?" Yang questioned.
"It's Investigator… but the title itself is meaningless" -and Aaron T. Volpe walked down the stone steps, passed the rocked decorated walk-way, beyond the next couple of cabins and deep into the woods.
 

Disbelief ran through Lilly's eyes and swept her thoughts. She flew off her bed as the notes flew off her flute when she performed from it. But her internal demons refused to grant her such a need to inform the Investigator of the truth and remind him appearances are deceiving.

She wanted to yell Aaron's halt. -To order him to blind his eyes from his heart and to speak of the innocence of the scene that was masked with beer and bed sheets. But her weaknesses refused her to do so; they were always in the wrong place at the wrong time. She grasped herself feeling pain shoot throughout her body as if being burned in a conflagration of blades were a mere cordial experience.

Collapsing to the floor, she dug her nails into the wooden floor as a side-effect to a feeling of suffocation she experienced within. A larger power, one she wasn't granted to see, touch or hear, squeezed her heart, teased her life, and cause her to fall in a state of unconsciousness.
"Lilly!" Yang called aloud rushing to his damsel in distress.
"Lilly!!" -And the voice faded away until a gaping blackness surrounded briefly shutting out all light, all sound, all smell, and all feeling to delicate Leng-fa.

The day after
 

"So this is where the match is to be held," Victoria mused, examining a fine manicured nail and sighed. "No accounting for taste."
Kumori grinned. "What's wrong with this place? It's like home, only-"
"-not." Finished Yun, twirling his hat with practiced ease.

Before our entrapped heroes (and heroines) lay a massive array of foodstores, corner shops, peddlers tents, merchant tents displaying disturbingly overpriced wares, and other similar constructs. Having so many fighters from differing cultures means many different preferences of diet, which the owners of the tourney were quick to recognize and begin making a profit on. Hence the existence of the impressive market that could, for a sufficient wound to ones wallet, satisfy even the most obscure pangs of hunger.

The narrator, having successfully read off of the brochure for the island and thereby shamelessly plugged for the inherit goods therein will now return the reader to their regularly planned dribble.
"Slurmph!" added John through a mouthful of cup'o noodles.
"Slurmphurgle!" retaliated Zero1 from within the recesses of his own cup o' noodles.
"SLURP!"
"SLUMPH!"
"SLUUURRRRR-"

"Continue slurping that ramen," Iwa began sweetly, "and I will personally rip out your tongue and feed it to the wolf."
"-rrrrppp."
The wolf growled.
Zero1 growled back.
John continued eating his noodles.
Iwa threatened to nuke something.
Night and Crista broke into laughter.

Somewhere in the world a zebra without stripes was jumping up and down repeatedly on a mimes spleen, but that did little to effect our story, save giving your faithful narrator yet another excuse to annoy the reader.
Crimson nudged Lilly with a dark-skinned elbow. "Eh? You're awfully quiet." He glanced towards the ornate flute she was tapping nervously. "Not a peep from you flute or anything." His piercing eyes gazed softly at the young woman from underneath the confines of his faded red cap (which if you ask him he stole from Terry Bogard).

"Hook a brother up, you okay?" Lilly smiled slightly, her cheeks flushed.
"Just thinking, that's all." She glanced at the distant figure of Yang, his back slightly turned, silent spikey-haired as usual, his eyes seemingly searching the clouds overhead. Lilly closed her eyes.
"Um.. have you seen Volpe?"
"Yep." Crimson grinned. "He dropped back to grab a chilidog or three."
"Oh."
 

Sakura plucked down next to Shockwave and Night, who were currently giving each other nasty looks.
"-and I'm telling you that I'D be the one!" Shockwave thumbed his staff absently. "If this was an anime I would most definitely be the main character."

"And why would that be, exactly?" queried Night.
Shockwave smiled darkly. "Because I look just as badass as I am! I've got the clothes, the moves, and all the attitude," he spun his staff about with practiced ease, flashing pearly white teeth once more. "Oh, yes, the story's all about me!"

Night's brow furrowed in thought. "Hmm… all I see is a tall, unshaven shopworn Ryu-clone with a shiny stick" He grinned.
"Check out my hair, it's all jagged an pointy, anime style! Plus, I've got ancient forms of martial arts and kung-fu to back me up! Plus, check this out!" His smile was overshadowed only by the intensity of his eyes. Turning towards the wind he closed his eyes and loosed a deep, soft sigh and anything and everything that could dramatically sway in the wind did so. Thereby causing the nearby women to melt.

"He's so cool!" one oogled.
"I want him!"
"I saw him first!"
"Ooooo my gaaaauuudddd," slobbered another.

"MARRY ME KYO!-er, YANG!-er, IORI-umm.. WHATEVER YOUR NAME IS!"
Shockwave cast a negligent hand to his side.
"That's nothing, baka." His eyes glinted dangerously from shadows that had absolutely no reason to be there. "YOSH!" cried he, grasping his staff and twirling it dramatically. "For the sake of my brother-" he brought his hands skyward, brandishing the weapon overhead,"

"REVENGE!"
The staff blurred in an upward stroke.
"SHALL BE!!"
The weapon twisted once, twice, then nearly nine times in one jagged motion.
"MMIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNEEEEEEE!!!"
The metallic staff was brought downward with enough force to crack the pavement below, this display only glorified by the electric blast of energy that followed, causing hair to stand on end.

"Wooooooowwwww…." Several of the young women murmured in unison.
"Did you see the size of his stick?" one giggled.
"Check out those muscles!"
"Hot stuff!"
"I wonder if he performs that well in *other* activities," a brunette blushed.
"I hope he doesn't have to pay for that." Crimson murmured.
"What is the air velocity of an unladen swallow?" Volpe called out from somewhere a good distance away.
"African or European?" Victoria yelled back.
"..I don't know that.. -WAAUUUGHHHH!!

Any luck finding him?" asked the unseen voice.
"Ryu?" Sakura grinned. "He's over there in the corner with Chun-"
"No." Kumori shook her head while levitating cross-legged several feet off the ground, her silken hair whipping around with complete abandon.
"Not Ryu." She clenched a forearm dramatically, shaking it wildly and causing the fabric of her trenchcoat to rustle. "Him."

Sakura suppressed a fit of giggles and looked to the ground sadly. "Nope."
"Kay's been out for a while too.." Victoria checked her mirror and smiled, then shrugged. "But they'll turn up. Guaranteed."
"Shlluurp." Brain gazed at the giant semblance of a Chinese market in wonder. "Sho, voooo's maccch iv it tooay?" he managed through yet another mouthful of noodles.

Sakura thumbed through a hefty stack of papers. "Lessee.. tourney, fifth day.. preemptive match of the day…"
"Preemptive?" asked Crista.
"First match, kind of like a spicy appetizer for what is to come."
"Cool."
"Anyway, it says here the match is between an… undecided person as of yet and… oh, wow…" Sakura grinned fiercely.
Shockwave grimaced.

"Wow?" He wrapped his covered knuckles along the side of his staff. "Who's it gonna be?"
"Me." was the flat reply from right behind him, causing Shockwave, Night, Victoria as well as pretty much everyone except the melancholy Iwa and a grinning Crimson to leap several feet into the air with an impressive display of acrobatics.

Crimson winked. "Nice one, old man."
Gen chuckled evilly. "The Bushin master has taught you well, it seems."
"I get by."
"So it seems." And with that Gen wordlessly strode past the hordes of video cameras and screaming fans, pausing briefly to cuff Yun along the backside of his head (who was only moments ago doing backflips to impress some of the more dramatically endowed female fans. Yang, to his credit, just sighed and fondled his hair.)

The crowd cheered.
A brilliant flash of light, some flowing purplish hair, a tight fitting outfit enhancing many plentiful curves, and about twelve different packs of orange candy marked the entrance of the referee, Ayame.
Gen stroked his beard and raised one white eyebrow.
"Ain't it cold in that?" Iwa sniffed.
Victoria, Sakura and Kumori just grinned from ear to ear.

"Hiiiiiiiiiii" chirped Ayame, her voice boosted by a megaphone empowered by easily three hundred pounds of bass-enhanced speakers. She spun around, and flung a hand towards the supercharged crowd. "Are you ready for some awesome scenes of uncensored, unwarranted acts of gratuitous violence?"
The crowd cheered loud enough to nearly shatter nearby glass fixtures and windows.
"ALRIGHT!" Ayame jiggled deliciously.

"Kleenex please," moaned John while attempting to suppress a massive nosebleed in the making.
"In our first preliminary match of the week.." Ayame posed and winked. "In the left corner we have the legendary martial arts master Gen!"
Once again, the crowd cheered.
Gen's aged hands disappeared within the voluminous royal blue sleeves of his garb. "There is a storm brewing." He closed his eyes. "My power has not yet declined. I will see it through."
Ayame tittered and spun. "Isn't he just AWESOME? And for his opponent, we have …" with a puzzled expression she leafed through her cue cards. "Umm…" Out of sheer desperation she turned the cards upside down. This failed to help matters; however, the abrupt motion did indeed make certain portions of her anatomy wobble much to the delight (and pain in Heagy's case) of the audience. "Che…" With an exasperated sigh she turned towards the referee's chair, only to encounter…
"A.. an orange pudding cake?!" The ref's eyes burst into twinkling little stars, tears of happiness brimming underneath. "But who-eh?" Ayame blinked, brushing back a stubborn strand of purplish hair from her eyes. Inscribed on the cake in Icy-blue laced frosting were the carefully scribed words.. "…wait for it?" She blinked once more. "For what?"

Exactly on cue the unmistakable sound of dance music with a heavy techno beat began to echo in the surrounding area.
"Nani?" murmured Ayame.
Sakura was happily dancing to the beat. "Cool!"
The crowd twisted this way and that, glancing about with interest.
It was just about then that the psychedelic strobe lights (seven of them) burst to life.
"Wooooooo!" exclaimed the crowd.
Iwa palmed her head with an audible slap. "Oh no…"
Kumori twirled like a ballerina directly alongside Victoria, Sakura and Crimson (who was currently getting down with his bad self), wolf and squirrel lopping around alongside.
Gen remained motionless. Again.
"'Tis time…" began an oddly jovial voice, "that I graced the stage of life with some style-enhanced sunshine, yes?"
Leaping off a nearby rooftop the brightly illuminated visage of a man nimbly landed and flipped up to his feet, and immediately began dancing to the intense music.
"Who is that?" murmured Ayame, attempting to shield her eyes. "The damn light…"
Lilly and Crista just chuckled.

$$$$$$

"Dad, who's that?" asked and excited Mel, jumping up and down with uncanny grace. "He's weird!"
Ken smiled and tightened his loving embrace with Eliza. "I have no idea."
"He certainly has a touch for the dramatic," replied she.
"He's gonna need to be more than dramatic to beat Gen." Sean palmed his fist. "I saw the tapes on how that guy almost took Ryu. He wasted over a third of the alpha tourney runners…"
Mel gave a energetic nod.
Ryu glanced to the side only to discover Chun-Li struggling to resist massive fit of laughter. "Li, are you all right?"
Chun-Li struggled for her breath as Ryu, Sean, Ken and Eliza watched on. "Do you remember the investigator that volunteered to help us for free, Ken?"
"Yup. Strange thing to do, with all the money we could have offered him." He shrugged his muscles shoulders. "What about it?"
Chun-Li pointed towards the figure doing the monkey while illuminated in strobe lights with a smirk.
Ken whipped his head from the man to Chun-Li's nod.
"No way…"

$$$$$$

The figure stroke a heroic pose. "Endowed by the lovely fates of destiny with mighty attire, a rapier-sharp wit and an entire novel full of glib witticisms.." The man spun quickly the toes of one foot, rotating around once, twice, even thrice and assumed an unidentified fighting stance. "-and being further empowered by a steady diet of government cheese and a complimentary truckload of hairspray-which I do NOT use, by the by-" the figure have a thumbs up to the crowd. "Damsels and men at arms, ladies and gentlemen-especially the ladies-prepare to witness, with the aid of the worldly and skilled master Gen, a spectacular display of marital arts unlike any other you have ever seen!" The music swelled up dramatically.
"For I, the moderately heroic bardic warrior Volpe, champion of love and justice…" he bowed to the crowd as the lights froze in place, then showered the area with one final burst of light as the music died, then clenched a gloved fist dramatically ".. have arrived!"

@@@@@

"Master there is something you might want to see."
"Put it on," Bison (or Vega if you prefer the Japanese version) chuckled evilly. Then the lord of Shadowloo who conspired each and every day to claim the entire world as his own, did the unthinkable: He sweatdropped.
On screen was the grinning form of a fighter, hopping back lightly from toe to toe with practiced ease. The man was short, probably only 5'7" or so at most, but that wasn't what Bison noticed first. He was wearing a *pink* muscle shirt. The only other man that wore a pink anything was Dan Hibiki, who somehow single handily took out both Balrog and Sagat in the middle of their collective missions of capturing Ryu. That had been expensive. The fighter had a military block cut, curly hair spilling outward atop his head, with a set of round shades placed carefully on the bridge of his nose. Along with a set of dog tags a military shirt danced freely in the wind, the sleeves rolled up to reveal brawny forearms. Bison blinked as the man adjusted his rope belt and wiped the shinning toes of his combat boots… which had white Kacki pants carefully bloused in them.
With blinding speed Bison towered over a flunky with practiced malevolence. "Do you know the price of wasting my time?!"
"N-no-no milord, this isn't what you think!" the flunky blubbered searching rapidly for somewhere to hide. "This man is rumored to be one of the essences you spoke of!" The man cowered in absolute and total fear. "No hurt, no hurt--glurg!!"
Bison paused to consider while holding the flunky several feet in the air by the throat, then unceremoniously dumped the man in whimpering heap. "Show me."
"Rightawayatoncesir-" the man rasped.
Bison examined a glowing fist. "What is so special about this one?"
"We don't know sir."
"YOU WHAT?!"
The flunky squealed in horror. "That's just it sir, we can't read him at all!"
"Explain."
"Despite out best attempts we can't assimilate the data we receive from him. It always changes. Even Ryu who we failed to capture gave off a reading, albeit an extraordinary one when he came to recover Ken Masters. We've had inclinations that his chi levels seem to be off incarnation stock, but only for mere seconds for no apparent reason whatsoever."
"Continue."
"But this one is different. Unreadable. Also, not only did he survive contact with Man Sei he was fully healed within a few short days. We have no idea what he is capable of, or whether he would make a useful tool for your project."
"Very well, you get to live."
"Thank you sir." The flunky bowed and hastily assumed his post.
Bison's pupiless eyes gazed towards the massive monitor display once more. The ref gave the signal, and the man launched forward in a burst of pink and military fatigues. "Let's see what this grinning fool is capable of." And with that Bison broke off into throaty, evil, (and well practiced) maniacal laughter for the next five minutes.

$$$$

"….." Night commented.
"Sigoi!" Kumori clapped wildly.
John lowered a chopstick a fraction of an inch. "Wow."
Lilly and Yang watched wordlessly.
"Holy Shit," murmured Victoria, who then grimaced and covered up her golden cross with a grin.
"Looks like he improved." Crimson nodded.
"Which one?" asked Iwa.
Sakura's eyes refused to blink
"Fast." Night breathed.
Crista nodded. "Very." She turned once more to the battling combatants in awe. There was absolutely no delay in any of the attacks. Where a fist launched outward, another was there to counter it, the legs of both fighter snaking outward searching for a mark and failing to achieve it. The only noticeable difference in their frightening dance was the gleeful sound of Volpe's laugher.

%%%%

"Here I come again, Gen-senei!" laughed the curly haired fighter, who then rushed towards Gen with startling speed, then leapt easily into the air leg outstretched and heel set forward. "Time to boot some head!"
Gen rolled swiftly underneath the strike and brought his palm towards the fleeting form of his opponent, only to find that the man had somersaulted off a nearby wall and was now grinning dangerously many feet overhead.
"Wow." Ayame breathed.
Aaron's body seemingly paused in mid-air, then burst downward with an incredible amount of torque, his right fist blurring dangerously towards the aged master. "FUJIN-KEN!"
A very surprised Gen was sent sprawling to the ground.
"Ayame bounced up and down, wrestling with her mike and cake at the same time. "And a vicious stroke is made by the challenger!"
Volpe's face twitched with a faint smile. "Umm.. are you O.K?. 'Tis to early to be taking a na- AUGGH!!"
Gen's left and right fists rocked back and forth, the flew towards Volpe's neck which he deftly parried, then the left hand launched forward in a knuckle strike towards his midsection, glancing off of the Italian fighters ribs. Gen's right fist struck his shoulder squarely, causing Aaron to lose his balance. Then the heel of Gen's sandal connected with Volpe's chin, knocking him backwards in a burst of speed and blood.
"Now that had to hurt." Ayame winced.
Gen followed up with a twisting side kick which landed in Volpe's side, then a roundhouse kick towards the temple, which Aaron grasped solidly with his left hand in a vise-like-grip.
His shades turned oddly luminescent. "My turn." He smiled. Then sent Gen hurtling in the air with a massive uppercut. "'Tis not over yet." Swiftly Volpe leapt into the air, grasped Gen's free-flying form by the tunic, and launched towards the ground, his elbow landing solidly in Gen's torso with excessive force upon impact with the dirt covered floor, causing nearby items to shake dangerously.
Both fighters rolled away from the collision, studying eachother.
The crowd roared in approval.
"You have a surprising amount of skill, young one." Gen shifted his hands outwards, his legs back, settling into a vicious looking mantis stance.
Volpe barked sharp laughter towards the sky. "Thy compliments are most welcome, ancient one." He bounced lightly on his feet, grinning. "But methinks this duel 'tis far from over. Shall we continue, good sirah?" He gave a sweeping bow a loosed a wolfish smile.
Gen despite himself, chuckled. "It is not so often," he intoned. "that I meet one dressed as a blind pauper that parades around like a prince, nor speak so much and have so very little to say."
"My ego will get back to you on that." Volpe grinned and tucked in his pink muscle shirt underneath his worn rope belt, flexing a few times experimentally. "Care to dance?"
Gen beckoned him forward with two fingers. "Come as you will."
Volpe exploded into a burst of speed, hurtling towards the master, who strode forward almost soundlessly despite his unnerving speed. Gen's knuckles missed their mark by being glanced aside by Volpe's open palm who then jabbed the other in the temple, then twisted around and brought his heel where Gen's head was but a few moments before.
"You missed." Gen's tone was flat as he struck the exposed area between Volpe's legs.
The men in the crowd let loose a collective cry of shock and pain, covering their own nether regions out of sheer empathy.
"Ow." Volpe squeaked, rolling away from an overhead axe kick that obliterated a packing crate less than three meters from his cranium. He rolled swiftly to his knees, fiercely grinning. "The victor of this fight…," he squeaked, adjusting himself briefly as he brought himself once more to a standing position. His eyes and tone grew steady as he gave a toothy smile. "Has yet to be decided." And once more he launched forward, releasing a elated war cry.

@@@

"Why are you frowning, Crista?" Night glanced towards her clouded expression.
"His strikes are too high," she murmured.
The duo watched as the fighters assaulted eachother with a blindingly fast array of hand strikes, countering and attacking one another with unbelievable speed. Volpe ducked low avoid a palm strike to the head, spun around and embedded a combat boot in Gen's midsection, knocking him back a small distance.
"And he crosses his feet too much." Her lips twisted into a frown as the form of Volpe hurtled straight into another wall with a sickening crunch.
"But he's hanging in there. See?" Wai Lim pointed just as Volpe grasped Gen's outstretched arm and delivered a snap kick to the man's face.
Crista shook her head, multicolored hear flailing about. "He shouldn't be, though. If that was you or I out there, we wouldn't be standing. Gen's hitting him with every trick in the book."
Yun and Yang nodded at this.
Despite himself, Brian laughed. "If it were you or I, we wouldn't have been getting hit in the first place."
Crista chuckled. "There's that." Then her delicate eyes narrowed. "… and he's holding back."
"..what?"

++++

"You do realize," Volpe grinned as he parried a strike to the legs, "that my ego can only withstand so much punishment."
"….." replied Gen.
Aaron twisted to the side to avoid a knuckle strike to the throat, then lifted a knee to counter a pushkick, then dove groundward to avoid a set of roundhouse kicks that nearly took his head off. "Close, good sirah," his dogtags flashed as he hopped back lightly on his toes. "But 'tis seemingly akin to my love life.." in rapid succession his fists connected with Gen's ribs (both sides), his lower leg, "..as of late…" the side of his head, his left shoulder and the old man's jaw with a brutal spinning punch, sending him reeling.
Volpe crouched low, leapt high, and sent the heel of his combat boots crashing into Gen's temple with a mid-air spinning roundhouse kick. " Not likely at all, I'm afraid. Eh?"
Gen recovered quickly, rolling out of range with practiced ease, leapt off a nearby wall, then drove his heel into the back of a very surprised Volpe's neck, slamming him into the pavement.
"Ow."
Gen chuckled softly a good distance away.
The crowd cheered.
Ayame bit deeply into her fifth slice of the orange pudding cake, her eyes brimming once more with unshed tears of happiness.
"That HAD to hurt.." murmured Yun.
Yang nodded and tousled his hair. He was getting very good at that.
Sakura, Kumori and Iwa happily munched on popcorn with about fifteen pounds of artificial flavoring atop it.
"Your friend can't keep this up." Victoria frowned.
"He seems to be okay," John reached for his twelfe or so cup o' noodles.
Zero1 wordlessly shook his head.
"Volpe…"
"Did you say something, Lilly?" Yang turned his bushin eyes, nearly concealed by his massive bangs, to meet hers with a smile.
"Um… no." She smiled softly and patted his shoulder awkwardly. "Never mind."
Yang nodded and turned once more towards the battle.

"Not yet." Aaron shook stray chunks of concrete from his hair, ignoring the pain his head was in. "This poetically-inclined knight shalt not stray from his-" Volpe briefly glanced towards Gen and sighed.
"Damn."
Less than a second later the blurred form of Gen seemingly warped through the Italian fighter in a mad rush of inhuman speed….
"Oh no.. " Sakura breathed as Crimson lowered the brim of his hat past his eyes.
.. then one and all witnessed Volpe twist and weave in largely uncomfortable positions as his body was assaulted by countless unseen blows, allowing the fighter to collapse in a bloody heap with a strangled cry after the twentieth or so blow.
"Zan'ei…. It has taken many a foe to their knees." Gen stroked his beard softly. "You are not the first to fall by it's hand. Nor will you be the last."
"Eat me," was Volpe's curt reply as he crawled under the cover of a nearby food court building.
"Mmph!" mmph'd Gen, his fist obliterating a massive sack of rice shelved just a fraction of an inch from Volpe's chin.
"You fiend," exclaimed he, attempting to crawl out of striking range. "Don't you know that rice is good for you?"
Gen stared at Volpe.
Volpe panted heavily back, whipping stray droplets of sweat and blood from his face.
"Then I suggest," intoned Gen, "that you try it." With that his leg snaked outward, brutally snapping in sequence two of the main supports of the building.
"Oh hell," he muttered as Gen backflipped a good distance away. Volpe had about all of three seconds to release a shrill cry of dismay rivaling that of a panicked schoolgirl before the entire ceiling atop his prone form, not to mention about 700+ pounds of rice and shelving units they were originally set on.
Spectators gazed at the forming dust cloud in awe and wonder.
"Well," Ayame jumped up to her toes, spinning her mike expertly, then bringing it to blue-tinted lips. "That seems to be it, ladies and gentlemen!" Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Let's start the final ten count, shall we?"

"1…"
Wolf growled. Maru buried his head in his paws.
".2.."
"Is he.. all right?" asked Crista nervously.
"3….4…"
"He had an entire building cave in overhead." Iwa muttered crossly. "I doubt it."
Yun laughed. "You mean you actually believed that fool could defeat my grandfather?"
"…5…"
Kumori closed her eyes and brought her hands together in a odd litany.
"..6.."
"Is he alive?" murmured Iwa Hoshi.
"Near as I can tell…"
"..7…"
Kumori's eyes widened in horror. "How…!"
Ayame's mike dropped from nerveless fingers as she watched the beaten and weary form of Volpe pull himself out from the rubble surrounding his immediate area.
Volpe tossed the tattered remains of yet another shirt and jacket to the side after whipping the blood from his head off first. "That was considerably more effective, master Gen." His shades lay broken and twisted next to his side. Amazingly brilliant silver-green eyes regarded Gen with a smile.
"Give up now." The old man suggested.
"I would like nothing more than to take a nap at this point," began the weary investigator, "-And where I anyone else I would have conceded defeat a great deal of time ago." Aaron stepped forward, bracing himself against the onrushing sensation of dizziness and nausea. "But I have a promise to keep." He took another unbalanced step towards Gen, then another. And another. "Life 'tis funny that way."
"Um…" Ayame looked around nervously. "Hajame!"
Gen's hands and feet blurred as he assaulted Volpe with ferocity not unlike a cornered animal. Instead of parrying or dodging Aaron slammed his entire frame, shoulder first, straight into Gen, knocking him back a good distance. Gen's right leg lashed forward, glancing off of Volpe's temple, his follow-up strike then caught neatly in the middle of two gloved hands.
"Our play is at an end, good sir." Volpe rested lightly on his toes. "Bid the waking hours goodbye, if thou whilst." Then his knee sunk deeply into Gen's stomach, only to have his other knee brutally impact Gen's upper torso. Immediately in mid motion Aaron jackknifed an entire 360 degrees in the air, his left combat boot slamming against the top of Gen's head, sending the man flying.
The master immediately recovered and slammed his fist against the side of Volpe's face in an abrupt motion. Volpe chuckled as he grasped the still outstretched arm of Gen and slammed his opponent face first into the ground in a suplex. Gen unsteadily resumed his assault, only to encounter Volpe's elbow impacting against his jaw. Gen stumbled long enough for Aaron to rush forward and deliver a blindingly fast collection of palm strikes to his midsection. The last strike snaked outward, glowing with raw chi, launching Gen into a nearby pillar where he slumped and lay still.
"Are we finished, mayhap?" Volpe gazed towards the distant forms of Lilly and Yang, their arms encircled around each others waist. "That is indeed a harsh dose of reality." He chuckled darkly, then turned towards the referee.
Or he would have, had Gen not launched into the air and delivered a brutal snap kick to the investigators head, sending him flying neatly into a pillar of his very own. "Ouch."
Gen grunted from within the recesses of his voluminous beard. "You are a hundred years to early to consider defeating me, streetfighter." His fist raised skyward, directly overhead the fallen form of Volpe. "Goodbye."
Volpe's eyes snapped open with alarming clarity. "Hello," he declared with a wry grin, driving a glowing fist against Gen's body, which then exploded upon impact into a burst of raw energy, flooring the ancient fighter in a bath of greenish wind. Aaron smiled underneath bloodied lips as he brought his opponent to his level, grasping Gen's tunic in his left hand.
Gen released a short cry of surprise as a gloved fist slammed directly between his eyes, then a second time, then a final third time, causing the man to see twinkling little stars. Volpe released his hold, allowing Gen to stumble backwards where he began to gather his strength, his entire body tensing up for one final, undeniably brutal attack.
Volpe coughed up a nasty glob of blood. "It is time for the curtain to fall."
Gen nodded wordlessly, his garb becoming animated as the air around him burst into chi-filled life, as crimson as the burning sun. Gen cracked a seldom seen smile. "I don't know your reasons for giving up the advantage, young one, but that was a poor move." Gen launched towards his opponent in another maddening rush of speed. "THIS IS THE END!"
Time slowed almost to a complete standstill, the enraged streetfighter bearing down on the weary form of Volpe.
"ZAN'EI!!" roared the master, his hands snaking forward.
*CRUNCH*
"No way.." Ayame breathed.
"You lost," murmured Volpe thoughtfully, gazing at his fully extended fist imbedded in Gen's stomach, still shaking from the impact. The elder fighter was bent nearly double around Aaron's outstretched arm, gasping for air.
The crowd roared in approval.
"How…" Gen's shaking hand grasped Volpe by the shoulder, his fingers digging in with urgency. "for…. Honor.." Gen spoke. "…finish…." He gasped. "..it.."
The Italian fighter took Gen's trembling hand in his own, gazing directly into the others eyes. "Not for all the riches in all the lands," he began with a broad smile, "Would I consider taking that which you offer, Sensei Gen. This is a friendly match, remember?"
"..baka.."
And with that Gen lapsed into unconsciousness, his body becoming instantly limp. Volpe eased the man's frame to the ground, resting his head on the remains of the torn jacket a few feet away. "Given a few days treated by the amply-endowed nurses here, ye should feel as right as rain in but a few short days…." Unsteadily he rose to his feet, turning towards the referee and crowd, brandishing a fist to the sky, laughing with glee.

"WINNER BY KNOCKOUT, VOLPE!!!" Ayame screamed into her mike, attempting to shout over the insane cheering of the crowd.
 
 
 

Scene 2
 
 

Waves rippled carelessly bashing the island terrain into a slow molding form only the evolution of mankind could proved a slower process. The beach, where thoughtless gliding water met the small land mass, showed exception being how the entire island was made of metallic substance and not basic packed sedimentary dirt. Don't let the foolish eyes perceive wrong, white sand played the icing on this violent cake. Irony finds many similarities between the creator and what one creates. But enough of sessile scenery, it was she whom took advantage of all that surrounded her. She, whom ignored man made beauty, man made by a psychotic that created allies with her enemy drawing her to this very island… to this very spot… at this same exact moment in time.

One who gets distracted deserves failure The sentence repeated in Crista's mind like her grand master echoed it throughout the island from above. Indeed, she did get distracted. Last night, she became most distracted. How could she let herself get so off track? A part of her attempted an answer, "It was a harmless kiss," -but she knew for sure, "There is no such thing called a harmless kiss. A kiss changes two people's path. It ends friendship and begins a step up to a greater experience. Yet most who step up so happen to step down beyond friendship into a pit of the lost. No one can change the past and hope for much in the future… b/c of a kiss." --That Crista knew was the uttermost truth. A quick sniff responded her thoughts minutes later. A tight strain upon her throat caused a high pitched tone. "Why?" she squeaked through her sporadic sniffs.

The kiss didn't really bother her. What caused her to walk the fine line of breaking down and crying caused her to lose the meditation stance which her grand master took six month of perfecting. Meditation wasn't required, but it was practiced as often as her martial arts as well as the strict control of her emotions. For years she knew how to control her emotions. She became a fine actress, academy award winning indeed. She learned for years how to push emotions aside, callous her heart only to those who deserve such a gift she offered from it, and fight determined focusing all her attention on her target. -But now… she couldn't focus and fight, she couldn't push back emotions and her heart she offered generously to him. The moment he saved her, the moment her life changed, she experienced a happiness her martial arts could never compete with.

"Of course he's my total opposite. I'm darkness and he's light. I'm the one chasing my opponent and he's being chased by his. He's everything I'm not… and vice versa," she quietly spoke. She closed her eyes causing an oncoming of tears to fall prisoner against her eyes. "Your so stupid," she began, "I hope your hearing this, Crista. Your a fool. This will only end in pain." Crista opened her eyes and smiled. Infront of her stood a red robin. "Hey you," she sighed, "You appeared out of no where." The robin flew off at the presence of a larger power. In it's ascending motion a crimson feather escaped the small, delicate wings. Crista caught the feather in her palm and stared. A light breeze caused each hair follicle to ruffle slightly. "Cute…" Suddenly the feather responded. "Huh?" Fwish… The soft feather so glowed ablaze in the palm of her hand. The fire soon faded into ashes and blew from her palm to the ocean. "Nani?"

"There you are!" Exclaimed a foreign voice. Ignored by Crista at first, her mind knew not to ignore this sign. "Burning, ashes, water, purification…" she listed in order of the events she witnessed. "Death? Who?" She gasped jumping up, "Oh gawed no…" The foreign figured closed in upon her presence still undetected. "No, no, no, no…" she ranted, "Who? Obviously someone important. Feathers just don't set afire for the hell of it." "Crista?" The voice asked closer to her. "Ok, this was an incomplete sign, the rest should be coming. It's coming… yes! for sure-" "Crista!" The voiced repeated more firm. Crista spun around, her jaw dropped, eyes gamed and goose bumps ran up and down her body. "Wai Lim…" she whispered at his sight, "No…" "Huh?" He asked approaching her. He smiled, "I knew you'd be here. You just vanished after Volpe's fight."

Crista's enhanced eyes fought her previous tears back once, but it wasn't so easy now. "Is something wrong?" he asked viewing her pale face. She stood, blinked once, and bit her lip. Brian noticed her armed lined with goose bumps, "What are you doing out here in the breezing wind without a jacket? Come on, your going to catch a cold and not fight to your fullest potential. You know as well as I do you need to be at fullest strength to fight Akuma." He took her hand only to notice the freezing numbness. He'd never touch such a cold hand before, "Whoa, you've been out here long. Come on," he walked her back to his room. She sat wordless, her mind echoed too many thoughts to be comprehended.

Wai Lim came back with one of those Instant-lunches you pop in the microwave for 3 minutes and have fresh noodles. He handed Crista some chop sticks and the noodles. Crista took them already smelling the artificially flavored steam. She, then, looked at the chopsticks confused. "I haven't used these for years… I mean, Grand Master Kim tried to teach me, but when he would train me 10 hours non-stop and not give me a fork yet sit a roasted duck infront of me I would get really cranky." Wai Lim smiled wondering how such a serious girl can get so cute in just a two minute difference. He sat beside her, "Hold one like your holding a pencil." Crista obeyed with a deep feeling of stupidity lodged in her stomach where her hunger also beckoned she down the noodles even without eating utensils.

Wai Lim, then, carefully placed the other stick almost parallel to the pencil-like one. He, then, wrapped his powerful arm around Crista's back enclosing her chop-sticks holding hand w/ his, "Now it's just like this." He carefully lifted some noodles with the juices falling off back into the carton and slowly drew it to Crista's mouth. Crista lightly laughed slightly shaking her head before she consumed the noodles. She nodded at Wai Lim with approval, "You fix this stuff pretty well." "Thanks, I always prided my culinary artistic worth," he sarcastically, but softly spoke. Crista laughed relieving her embarrassment. He removed his hand, but just slid it down around her waist.

Crista lifted more noodles and motion Wai Lim to try his own edible masterpiece. Wai Lim opened his mouth and ate atleast over half of the noodles. The remaining fell on his shirt as did enough of the hot juices to cause a sudden rising, "Whoa. Hot!" "Zut alors! Je regrette! I'll grab another one of your shirts." She slipped from the room before Wai Lim could watch her exit. He stole a couple seconds in the kitchen to retrieve a soaked wash cloth. Crista entered the kitchen holding a random shirt. "I don't know what's more scary, you knowing where I keep my clothes or you trying to feed me," Brian joked. Crista smiled raising an eyebrow, "C'mon, give an American woman a break." She left to gather the food in the living room. When she came back Brian's shirt was removed and in the process of changing shirts. Her halt followed with a long gaze at his natural beauty. "Bishounen," she mouthed softly. Brian looked up seeing Crista and slightly blushed, "Umm… are their any noodles on me I can't see?"

She responded by dropping almost releasing the carton of noodles everywhere, "Shit! I'm s-so clumsy today!" She quickly tossed the carton and grabbed a couple paper towels. "Let me help," Brian offered kneeling down helping Crista clean up the spill. Crista's face, now scarlet, focused to the spill too embarrassed to look into Brian's comfortable, cozy eyes. Yesterday they kissed and today he caught her staring at him. He probably thinks I'm infatuated with him… just calm down, girl. Your one of the best world fighters. Atleast the psychopath running the tournament thinks so. Just calm down and- "Why-why were you looking at me?" Brian asked outta the blue. "H-Huh?" Crista responded confused and looking straight at him. "Why?" he asked still possessing a tint of rose in his cheeks. "M-Me… looking at you? Oh! Y-You have some soup still on you." "Oh, thanks for noticing… I think I got it all," he spoke standing up.

"You have it all, all right…" Crista responded. The two stopped, blushed more, and quickly left the kitchen swearing the walls were getting entertained greatly by their corny performance. Brian placed his shirt on as he noticed Crista was getting ready to leave, "Going so soon?" "Oh, yeah. I-I thought I should leave you some hours before your fight with Yun. You shouldn't get distracted by me. You, as well as I, are in this tournament." "Right," Brian responded. Crista nodded placing her arm bands back on safely hearing the clasp bind reassuring her protection from the Phoenix God. "Your arm guards," Brian spoke observing them. "What about em?" She asked. "T-They're faded." "Oh yeah, they've done that recently. I gotta break out the polish." "I see. Ya know, since your birthday is coming up, I was thinking I could get ya new ones." Crista smiled, "Thanks, but no thanks. Till death to us three part," Crista smiled raising both arm guards.

Brian smiled, "Your turning what? 19?" "Oui monsieur," Crista responded. Brian nodded, "Well…" Crista's watched beep, "Oh, I just remembered! I have to be… somewhere…" Brian quickly nodded, "Of course!" Crista returned the nod, "Ok, well… ja ne." "Yeah, ja." Crista, halfway out the door, sighed stopping; Brian, half way turned, quickly turned back. Crista turned slowly and faced him, "Forgive me for what I'm about to do." "Eh?" Brian questioned. Crista approached him, pulled his freshly new shirt forward till his body pressed against hers. She, along with Brian, experienced the dejavu of the night before with the exception of being drunk. Brian carefully placed his hands on her hips concentrating on the lip lock the two experienced. Then, from her left shut eyes, a single solitary tear escaped down her cheek. She quickly wiped the evidence of its' existence.