Chapter 7 - The man who saved metro city

Kusanagi's eyes flashed open as a rather annoying and loud beeping sound ringed within his ears, not unlike an alarm clock. . .

Along with Iori, Leona and Ralf. Kusanagi was now on a plane flying to America and the king of fighter's tournament 2002. A month and a half had passed since the meeting with K-9999. Despite Kusanagi's predictions he had seen nothing of Angel, Guy or Lilith. Though the young fighter was hardly displeased with this run of things.

Kusanagi looked to his right to see Leona with her eyes raised. Since he had met the soldier girl he had seen little emotion of any type displayed on her face.

Looking to left Kusanagi found the source of the sleep offending sound.

"Ralf. . . why do you have an alarm clock with you?" He asked, still shaking off the last dregs of sleep

"He probily forgot about the time change" Iori said from the row in front

"It's not an alarm" The mercenary said, in a rather defensive tone

"He's had it for months now" Leona said, sighing

"What is it?" Kusanagi asked

"It doesn't matter" Ralf said, his thumbs were pushing the buttons of something

"What is it?" Kusanagi asked again

"Nothing" Said Ralf shortly, putting what ever it was back in his pocket

"It's a tamagochi (sp?)" Leona said, shaking her head

Kusanagi burst out laughing. Iori had a similar reaction, his roaring laughter could be heard from the row in front. More than a few heads turned to find the source of the roaring laughter.

"Is that the battle hardened training they put you through with the Ikari's" Kusanagi taunted between laugh's

Ralf untied his bandanna and draped it over his face, clearly he didn't want to be part of the conversation anymore, or anywhere in the plane for that matter.

"Where's yours?" Kusanagi asked, turning to Leona

He received a glare in return before Leona returned to the window in hope of getting some sleep yet.

"IORI!" Kusanagi mimicked Iori's usual call to his rival, with an identical voice impersonation as well

"Shut up" Iori replied blankly

"Where are we?" Kusanagi asked, as they walked through the tunnel off the plane

"Metro city" Leona answered

"I thought we were going to south town" Iori stated, stopping, holding everyone up in the tunnel up though he was quite obvious to the fact

"We catch another flight tomorrow" Leona informed him

Iori gave a nod and then turned and carried on the way he had been previously heading.

After going through various checkpoints and getting their luggage back the group found themselves walking through the entrance to the main airport lounge.

It was crowded but Kusanagi made out a few faces he recognized.

"The Korean's" He said point out to a group sitting on a bench around a pillar nearer the center of the lounge.

Kusanagi studied the group. There was Kim. . . Jhun was it? The larger man was Chang. . . But who was the other?

"Who's that?" Kusanagi asked Iori, pointing to a boy with blue hair who stood with the Korean's

"Never seen him before" Iori answered shortly

Kusanagi found a near by empty bench and dumped his bag down, sitting down his gaze continued to linger on the group of fighters. Leona joined him, followed by Ralf. Though, Iori had disappeared from sight.

"Where did Iori go?" Kusanagi asked

"Just said he would meet us back here or at the gate" Ralf said

"We're staying here tonight, gate 12. The flight is early so get some rest" She advised

Kusanagi looked back at the Korean's and then realized that Kim Kaphwan was walking towards them, alongside him was the rest of his teammates.

Leona, also watching the scene unfold immediately got too her feet and took a few steps forward. Ralf didn't seem bothered as he gave the approaching fighters a casual glance.

"See you later" Kusanagi muttered as he got up and walked off

He walked into one of the many airport restaurants, not bothering to take a glance back at his teammates. It would be better if he wasn't there when the Korean's went babbling on about justice and such.

He took a seat at the first free table he found, looking around for a waiter. Kusanagi chuckled mentally as he imagined as Kim took of with a moral lecture, Leona stood there taking it in while Ralf was at behind her with his face in his hands.

Kusanagi's eyes wondered the busy restaurant trying to pick out a waiter, it had only been a few minutes yet his patience was limited after eating only airline food for the past day. He shivered just thinking about it.

Suddenly Kusanagi spotted a man sitting at a table not too far away from him, with him was a girl Kusanagi did not recognize. She had almost ginger blonde hair, but Kusanagi noticed there seemed to be a kind of far off look in her brown eyes. He also noticed she was wearing a long coat, strange to wearing a heavy coat while in a restaurant.

But the man. . . Where had he seen him before? He was quite tall, easily over six feet and slim with longish blonde. He looked relaxed but Kusanagi knew the way of a warrior, the man was leading on a false atmosphere around him, while his senses while constantly alert. The girl however looked as though she was just waking from a coma. A sense of unease ran riot over Kusanagi's mind then, then the memory came. . .

Vega was one for the finer things in life, such a shame he could not relax. There was of course the call of 'duty' he thought with a sigh.

For some reason Bison was obsessed with finding this 'clone'. Vega had dismissed this as just delusion the shadowloo leader had came up with to find a solution for yet another problem with the psycho drive. Ryu was not enough no he wanted some evil clone, it all seemed rather pointless to Vega.

Soon enough after no solid evidence of this clone had been found, it starting to seem pointless to anyone at shadowloo with some level of intelligence. But of course Bison had ordered searches and so on.

Apparently Balrog had spotted a man in Alaska who met the vague description Bison had issued his agents with. Balrog of all people. . . Aside from this why had Balrog been in Alaska? Vega knew the boxer had wealth and was no stranger to certain mind influencing substances. Most likely this had been some crazy dream that Bison was all too willing to believe.

Apparently now the clone was wandering somewhere in Barcelona. So Vega was stationed here, like many other agents, including the boxer, who were scattered within the city on the look out for a man who wears mostly black and has red eyes.

Vega laughed out loud, ignoring the sudden increase of onlookers. This was truly saddling. Had it occurred to Bison that if this clone really was the man they were after he clearly had money and/or contacts to move around to any country? (Fake passports as well, no doubt). Not too mention he was probily aware shadowloo was after him, it wouldn't be too challenging to elude the description that had been set for him.

What a waste of time Vega thought. There was the ever present urge to drown his sadness, the sadness from the realization he was working for a bunch of desperate fool's. He would stay alert now and remain loyal for just long enough but his allegiance to shadowloo would be severed soon.

A cloaked figure rushed through the entrance, knocking over an approaching waiter. There were places in Spain where this scene would not have seemed out of place. However, this was bar commonly known for its upper class of customers. This intrigued Vega, this couldn't possibly be the man they were after. . . Could it?

Vega rose sharply, he took a few steps away from his table, watching the cloaked figure. Whoever it was had stopped and seemed to be looking around wildly, as if someone was in pursue. . . Vega ran a hand down his silk shirt, smoothing a crease. Many eyes were on the stranger. A few on the Spanish noble man

Vega walked out of table area, standing a few paces in front of the stranger.

"Not again" He heard a distinctively male voice mutter

"Again" Vega said, so events were fated to this night after all

The stranger's hand griped a fold in his cloak and the material whirled into the air, revealing a young man in his early twenties. He had a dark shade of skin, you wouldn't call him black, but certainly not white. He wore black pants, a black jacket with some gold trim and a white shirt underneath.

"Dead or alive" Vega said, he noted his opponents lips curve at the corner for the barest trace of a smile.

The man stepped forward, his fist lashing out in a vicious but precise swing.

Vega jumped, flipping backwards. Landing, he quickly drew his claw which hung from his waist. Taking up his fighting stance, he paused to wipe a strand of hair out of his eye.

"Why are you after me?" The man asked, not letting his stance down

"What is your name?" Vega asked

"Kusanagi" He replied

"Bison has ordered it" Vega said

"He is?"

"You'll find out soon enough" Vega said

The Spanish Ninja leapt forward nimbly. He was forced to twist and evade as a wall of flames erupted from a wave Kusanagi's hand's, much to the Noble's disbelief.

Vega edged a few steps back, digesting his opponent's ability. Clearly Bison wanted to absorb the power of this flame welder, or possibly create more of him. . . Vega shuddered at the thought.

Vega somersaulted back, he landed crouching onto the near by bar. His feet pushed off and Vega sailed through the air towards the flame wielder, his claw seeking ripe flesh. Normally Vega would have let the battle lust take its toll here, but for some reason he fought to keep control, something was different here.

Kusanagi dived to his left a bare moment before gleaming silver tore through the place he had been standing. He rolled to his feet and shuddered in shock as he found Vega barely two steps away lunching another attack.

Using Kusanagi's recovery time to his advantage Vega lunged forward, his claw stabbing forward ready to use his 'Red impact' technique.

The claw raked upward once catching just below his rib cage, leaving a shallow wound that stared to spill a few drops of blood.

Seeing the blow was no where near the force required to knock Kusanagi into the air Vega cursed his lack of accuracy but reacted quickly.

He flipped backwards in a forward motion. His feet connected with the wounded man, launching him into the air.

Vega landed and raised his claw ready to impale the young flame welder. The Ninja braced himself for the heavy impact. . . But it never came. . . Just a light push. . .

Vega looked up to find the most impossible sight he could have imagined.

Kusanagi had a hand wrapped around the claw, his body balanced perfectly in mid-air.

Vega started at the boy in disbelief and suddenly shivered as a pair of flaring red eyes started right back. The shiver broke his perfect balance and made Kusanagi flinch.

The young fighter let go of the claw and swung his leg's down, connecting a solid blow with both feet to Vega's face.

Vega was thrown back, his back slamming against the wall, he slid to the floor.

Kusanagi landed on his back, immediately scrambling to his feet. He watched as the Man slowly rose to his feet, leaning against the wall and shaking his head.

Vega ran a hand over his face feeling the ugly lump of skin start to form, a bruise. . .

Kusanagi ran forward, watching the man's eyes go wide as he hand ran over the forming bruise. Kusanagi gave him no time to react however as focused all his energy into the flame budding from the palm of his hand.

He felt his whole body go alight in a strange sensation. His mind felt hazy for a moment then his eyes locked on his target. The hand swept down, a tidal wave of fire in its wake.

Vega was slammed back against the wall from the sheer force of the move. He felt agony of his flesh being charred by the flames. However, the feeling started to fade as his eyes started to lose focus.

Kusanagi half dived out of his chair, rolling to his feet he ran out of the restaurant, severing to avoid tables and customers. Daring a glance over his shoulder he saw Vega and the girl react immediately. He cursed, why did he make a scene! He should have just left quietly while the opportunity was there.

Kusanagi ran through the crowded airport lounge, quickly finding the exit and running out into the street beyond.

Not paying much attention to where he was going Kusanagi bolted across the taxi riddled road and run off down the street. Risking another glance he saw Vega and his companion standing at one of the exits. Vega was looking around wildly while the girl looked calmer as she scanned the street.

Suddenly the girl's eyes locked onto Kusanagi, standing further down at the corner of the street. Cursing himself again this time for hesitating, Kusanagi bolted off again.

It had to be around 7:00 PM by now, Kusanagi realized, surprised by how dark the sky was. It was easier to escape in the dark opposed to daylight anyway.

In the effort of trying to lose the pursuing couple Kusanagi ran through numerous streets, twisting through alleys when they were presented and at one point even climbing a fire escape and doubling back when the pursuers had passed, realizing they're error.

After what must have been twenty minutes of pointless evasion Kusanagi turned down another identical alleyway. He stopped dead to find a group of people spread out, seemingly just hanging around. They all stared at the newcomer, one of them took a few steps forward, he looked like a supposed punk with a mo-hawk and a hoodie. He was about to speak when Kusanagi interrupted.

"Out of the way!" Kusanagi shouted.

His fist connected with the punk's face, flames exploded as the punch landed. The man was sent flying back through the air while Kusanagi started to run once more, the stunned group did little to stop him. As he pasted them Kusanagi noted some of them seemed to be nursing wounds. . . Strange, he thought.

He ran further down the alley coming out of it finally. But rather than leading to another street it lead into a giant open space. After a few seconds of scanning the place Kusanagi realized it was a construction yard or building site where little work had been done yet.

"Fucking great. . . Open space" Kusanagi muttered

In the near distance Kusanagi could spot smoke rising into the air. With lack of any other option he started to head towards it. In the hope there were people there who could help him or he use them as a distraction or both really.

As he ran on over the rough, uneven terrain Kusanagi could make out a few other people lying on the floor, battered and bloody. What's happening here? He wondered. The echoing footsteps of his pursers broke this wondering, though they sounded quite faint. Perhaps I'm losing them, he thought.

Kusanagi found the source of the smoke to be a giant bonfire. A group of people were surrounding it. They seemed ready to fight, the Kusanagi picked out why. A few yards away from the fire Kusanagi picked out a lone figure.

"Iori" Kusanagi muttered, his hope rising slightly

As he came closer to the lone figure he realized it was not the dark, brooding orichi warrior. It was someone else. . .

Kusanagi stopped a few paces away from the man, who turned to give him a short glance before turning back to stare on at the group of people before him. Kusanagi studied the man.

He was around Kusanagi's height, a little taller maybe. He was of a bigger build while still looking quite slim. He had an untidy rag of blonde hair, with a face that seemed to have the qualities of both care-free laughter and brutal anger. He wore a white T-shirt, blue finger less gloves, Blue jeans with white trainers. Kusanagi also noted he had a pair of handcuffs clipped onto his jeans.

"What's going on?" Was all Kusanagi could think to ask

"No matter how many time you beat gangs down they keep coming back, but now I guess this is the end pretty much" The stranger replied with a short laugh

Kusanagi turned to face the group of thugs who were apparently the last of some gang. They were making a last stand it would seem. There was quite a few of them. This guy must have something up his sleeve if all of them are afraid of him, Kusanagi thought, casting another glance at the man.

They don't look up to that much, he thought. Maybe if I help him out he'll help me. Kusanagi smirked and took up a fighting stance. The man turned to look at him, a look of surprise if anything. He was about to speak when he stopped and then turned back to the gang, taking up his own fighting stance.

The two began to advance. The gang members reacted, running forward, in the hope of surrounding the two fighters.

Iori Yagami stood watching the on-coming battle. He had watched Kusanagi being chased around Metro city. He had toyed with the idea of helping his team mate but watching him laboring, trying avoid his captor's had been much more entertaining.

Though this amusement was forgotten when he saw the clone take up his fighting stance. He wasn't taking up his normal stance. . . He had spared with Kusanagi a number of times now but his basic fighting style was that of some ancient style of Chinese boxing. However, now. . . He stood in a completely different stance, a strangely familiar one at that.

"Kyokugen" Iori muttered in disbelief

When did Kusanagi train in Kyokugen Karate!

Iori Pondered this as the fight began to unfold. Kusanagi launched forward in the air. His one foot connecting with an opponent then he spun in the air and his other foot slammed into someone's face.

I've seen Ryo use that technique Iori thought. How could he possibly have mastered Kyokugen, he's only been alive for a year or so. . . Or has he? Iori thought.

"This is some joke" he said aloud as if to strengthen his resolve, though his eyes still strayed to Kusanagi

The clone charged back for a few seconds and then let a giant ball of energy knocking several opponents down who were unlucky enough to be in his line of sight.

An imitation of Ryo's 'Haou Shoukou Ken' Iori realized. Advanced techniques like that. . .

Then a horrible theory dawned on him. What if Kusanagi was clone of Kyo only in appearance? What if he could imitate hundreds of fighters? All the fighters who entered the tournament.

No, I've seen him lose, Iori thought. If that theory was correct he'd be invincible, he'd be able to predict a fighters every move, every characteristic of a style. No, this was some trick Kusanagi kept up his sleeve. It was cunning, Iori admitted.

Still if Kusanagi had only lived for a year he must have mastered Kyokugen Karate in a short amount of time. Barely half a year. . . unless Kyo had learned it. It was a possibility anyway. At this Iori realized how little he actually knew about Kusanagi, he had assumed too much with the clone.

Iori watched the other fighter as well. He seemed to be going through one opponent after another. Iori watched as the man hammered a fist into a thug's stomach, the thug slumped to the floor. The man then turned, swinging a fist into the face of another oncoming opponent. Nothing I couldn't do, Iori thought.

Iori watched on as another figures came running across the construction site. They had lost Kusanagi for a short while but now seen the bonfire.

Deciding that this time he should probably help the Kyo-clone he walked down from the large mound of up-turned earth, which had proved to be a useful vantage point.

Iori watched the two stop as they came in view of the brawl in which Kusanagi was now sending bursts of crimson flames into the air, usually followed by one or two thugs.

I'll take the man out first then play with the girl, Iori thought. A trademark smile flickering on his lips.

With that he broke into a run.