Terry Bogard

South Town Scuffle: Two Wolves (Terry Bogard VS Broken Promise)

_{“Nap time is over, babe. Look no further than a brand new post by your friendly resident badass Terry Bogard!”
– Terry Bogard}

Chinatown, South Town
_{1:50 PM}

▶︎• ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌၊|• 3:33
_{Osaka Jo Koen ~Kyobashi~ – Real Bout Fatal Fury 2}

Xiangfei swore she could hear a voice yelling “hey, watch it!” from behind the nearby buildings, and she recognized it. It was like she’d heard it from somewhere…

Wait a minute… Is that who I think he—

Then, her eyes went wide, and her hands went on to cover her gasping mouth. If that was who she thought it was, then the yelling voice was none other than Ken Masters, the former national martial arts champion. She was shocked yet a little perplexed. What could possibly bring the blonde street fighter from Metro City all the way to South Town? Was he here to challenge Terry, too? Or was there a business appointment he had to attend to this afternoon? But either way, Ken’s hypothetical presence (and hilarious defeat) might not be Xiangfei’s biggest concern right now because…

“Hey, what are you doing!?”

…She’d just witnessed Oros speeding what appeared to be a stolen sports car in the direction of Terry, oblivious to the mad woman’s intention in attaining the car. Immediately, Terry had to cancel his Buster Wolf midway when his wolf-like senses alerted him. He slightly shifted towards the speeding car, eyes wide.

“Uh-oh. Gwahh…!!”

Unfortunately for him, it was too late. The car was already inches close, preventing him from rolling away. By force, the king of fighters had to swallow the impact head-on, his side colliding with the car’s front. Immediately, he was sent launching towards the other end of the makeshift stage, rolling harshly across the ground. He was so close to getting tossed out of the stage, but thankfully managed to halt himself just in time.

“Agh! Oww… What the hell!?”

The king of fighters winced and held his injured side, his iconic cap already flying out of his head. He wasn’t sure if he could still stand in that moment, but he tried to push through the lingering pain, carefully attempting (yet failing) to pick himself up. It took a while for him to finally assume a kneeling position, only to be greeted by the sight of Oros’ car accidentally running forward again. Reflexively, he tried to stop the car with whatever strength he had left in his bare hands, grunting when the abrupt movement gave his ribs a stinging sensation. Thankfully, though, he didn’t have to exert more power, as the car had stopped itself not long after. Not an innocent was harmed in the process, and Terry sighed in relief.

“Whew… Oh, man… Oh, my Gosh…” he mumbled under his breath, now trying to rise on his feet. Although the injury still hurt like a brick, he still managed to stand a bit, albeit unsteady. “Thank God… Thank God, everyone’s okay…”

As he panted, the king of fighters’ gaze went to his opponent who was standing by the other end of the stage. Blades still at hands, he could tell that she was about as messy and hurt as he was, yet refusing to yield just yet. Frankly, a part of him just wanted to rest, but he knew that he couldn’t quit just yet, either. Not when he still stood consciously, and his opponent was just there: waiting and standing across from him.

“What? Why just stand there?” he asked, gritting his teeth. “The fight ain’t over yet. C’mon, bring it! Don’t hesitate!”

“Enough!”

Xiangfei’s exclaiming voice was enough to catch the attention of Terry and every spectator present. As she ran into the stage, she waved her hands ‘no,’ arms raising above her brown head.

“We can’t continue. At least, not this way. Both of you are injured, and it couldn’t help when this silly tournament only did more harm than good to everyone. I should’ve known I didn’t pitch this to my uncle…”

She sighed, then facepalmed. Neither she nor her uncle expected the battle to see a disastrous outcome. Everything was under control at first until… she showed up. At least, that was what she assumed. The concerned Xiangfei then turned her gaze towards Oros, frowning and gritting her teeth.

“You… It was your fault!” she reprimanded and leaned forward, a shaky fist raised above her collar. “None of this would’ve happened if you didn’t start messing around! Now look at it! Look what you did to Terry! What if you ended up running everyone over with that stupid car!?” Then, she gestured at the sports car, now seemingly broken from all the collision.

Seeing what Xiangfei did, Terry could only sigh, then grabbed her by her bare shoulder, trying to calm her down. “Shush… It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ve been through worse before,” he reassured. “If you say so, let’s just call it a match, should we? Kinda a shame we don’t get to fight longer, but it was fun while it lasted. Say, how about I treat y’all to lunch now? Mika?” He then glanced at his opponent, the prior animosity no longer present. As long as he had a good fight, that was all that mattered to him. “And who knows? Maybe I can help you find that guy you’ve been looking for.”

FIN.

South Town Scuffle: Two Wolves (Terry Bogard VS Broken Promise)

_{“Gotta admit, I was runnin’ outta jokes, but not anymore. Because Terry learned from his mistakes.”
– Terry Bogard}

Chinatown, South Town
_{1:45 PM}

▶︎• ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌၊|• 3:33
_{Osaka Jo Koen ~Kyobashi~ – Real Bout Fatal Fury 2}

It seemed that the more Oros hoped, the farther she was from achieving her goals. The way Xiangfei smirked, though, it was clear that she’d started to pick up the cues. Whether or not she reciprocated her feelings, well… it seemed that we had to wait for a bit.

“Of course you can,” she said, the stern expression from early on fading. “You want your date, right? Then, go out there and make me proud… cutie~”

Meanwhile, Terry was still recovering from delivering a feigned Crack Shot, just moments after landing in a splitting position. Too bad, by the time he stood up, he noticed that he’d accidentally torn the back of his jeans (as the impact of the awkward landing position), immediately placing a hand over it in embarrassment.

“Aww, man…” he muttered, blushing, all while focusing on the blade-wielder ahead of him. “Wha? Why are you lookin’ at me like that?”

Partly, it was true that his words (his battle cries in particular) held an unspokable power when they were shouted. It was as if they were amplifying the strength of his moves—or so, it seemed? Either way, it didn’t seem like the point Mika was trying to make because it might have more to do with his (failed) attempt in attacking her with a Power Wave. Instead, he was now greeted by a spectral cat bouncing out of the edge of his opponent’s blade, which left him a bit confused at first.

“Huh?? Seriously?” he asked, lowering his guard a bit. “What is this? A chibi—”

Thankfully, just seconds before the cat exploded, Terry’s wolf-like senses had already warned him. In a swift motion, he flailed the ground, erupting and sending a bigger, taller shockwave in its path.

“ROUND—”

KA-BOOM!

“Gwahh–!!”

Too bad, the collision between the exploding cat and the explosive Round Wave managed to launch him several feet to the back, much to the spectators’ surprise. The king of fighters did absorb the impact a bit, so now he’d started to cough blood. He could feel his heart beating at an abnormal pace, his muscles weakening. Still, despite all of that, his willpower was yet to be diminished.

“Urgh… Goddammit…”

Rubbing his chest, the king of fighters carefully picked himself up, keeping his breath controlled. When he glanced ahead, he noticed that Mika had lunged closer and closer in his direction. He thought he would’ve been finished once he failed to anticipate that slash to the arm. So with all his might, he curled himself, then forced himself to roll back, whiffing the blade completely. Once the distance was maintained, he halted, then tried to stand back up, bringing himself forward to punish Mika with a…

“BURN KNUCKLE!!”

The dashing, flaming fist was held out, aiming to hit Mika in the face. If connected, he’d bombard her with a series of flails and kicks, building his power gauge to completion. Then, once the power gauge was filled and activated, he’d execute the most bombastic move in all of KOF.

“Are you okay??”

As if not too concerned by his opponent’s condition, he’d dash forward a fiery haymaker. If this also connected, he’d shoot an energy explosion out of his knuckles, capable of sending Mika flying out of the stage.

“BUSTER WOLF!!!”

KA-BOOM!

They weren’t done with each other just a moment ago, but now? Terry was willing to call it a match, whether the Buster Wolf was connected or not.

FIN.

South Town Scuffle: Two Wolves (Terry Bogard VS Broken Promise)

Hey, man, don’t worry, I’m still alive. Lol. And yeah, the trip was great and I’ve finally overcome my writer’s block.

Terry’s new post is out, btw 👍🏻

South Town Scuffle: Two Wolves (Terry Bogard VS Broken Promise)

_{“In the words of my boy Snake: kept you waiting, huh? The match ain’t over till it’s game over.”
– Terry Bogard}

Chinatown, South Town
_{1:45 PM}

▶︎• ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌၊|• 3:33
_{Osaka Jo Koen ~Kyobashi~ – Real Bout Fatal Fury 2}

That was an impressive showcase of magic, Xiangfei had to admit. Oros did more than she’d asked her to do, even healing the no-name NPC bunch the lunatic had knocked out beforehand like the one-sided beatdown never happened. Still, despite her effort, Xiangfei just huffed, folding her arms and tilting her head away from Oros.

“Hmph! Fine, I forgive you. I guess you’re not as crazy as I thought you were,” she finally admitted, albeit nonchalantly. “And thank you. It’s Li Xiangfei, by the way, but you can just call me Xiangfei. It’s nice knowing you, Oros. I guess. Maybe when all of this is over, can you also make sure that the guys fighting over there are patched up, too? You look like you’re good at healing people, though.”

And here Xiangfei was: bossing Oros around like she was her superior. It was apparent that she was still annoyed, but at the same time, the one-sided ass-whooping that Oros did prior didn’t exactly infuriate her anymore. Besides, she might be right. It looked as if Mika and Terry did need to be tended to after the bout. Well, especially Mika after the series of hard-hitting attacks given to her by the furious wolf.

As he stood still, Terry tried to control his breath, using this moment to compose himself. Perhaps, he’d begun to let his fury get the best out of him (and he wasn’t, in any way, proud of that). He still remembered what Master Tung told him, about how one had to fight like a tree, instead of an animal. This was the reason why his mentor favored him over his brother when it came to deciding the next inheritor of the Hakkyokuseiken’s secret technique. He knew he could be calmer than this. He knew he could be more level-headed. After all, had it even been proven that Mika was one of Geese’s stooges?

Right, Terry, right…

The blonde bruiser gulped, then took a deep breath. He smirked when Mika began opening her mouth again after (seemingly) failing to cast a mantra.

“Ooh… You think those ghosts scared me?” Terry sarcastically pointed out, referring to the dead spirits leaping out of her blades. “Sounds like somebody forgets what I just did. Just a heads-up, though, I don’t really have to punch you to beat you.”

Terry started charging his fist with energy, swirling lights gathering around his knuckles. True to his words, when he couldn’t contain the energy any longer, he slammed his leading fist downwards, releasing it in the form of a shockwave that traveled across the ground towards his opponent.

POW!

“POWER WAVE!!”

Yup, and that was the exact move he used to prank Mika earlier in the bout. The king of fighters could’ve zoned on his opponent, but he knew it wouldn’t have been fair if all he did was just spam projectiles (and besides, nobody paid to see a top-level fighter like him putting up a boring show like that). So once the Power Wave connected, Terry would wiggle his finger at his opponent before leaping forward, performing an acrobatic kick/heel drop that was meant to connect with her shoulder.

“CRACK SHOOT!!” he exclaimed, close to charging his power gauge completely.

FIN.

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

Level 10 Terry Bogard

_{EXP : 48/100 (+2)
Location : Esaka’s High Tier
Time : Clear Thursday Afternoon
Word Count : 1,093}

---

▶︎• ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌၊|• 3:55
_{Neo City (Normal) – Tekken 8}

Leaving the Winecup Hold, Terry was relieved to learn from Amaterasu and the UN representatives that they didn’t need to assassinate their targets. Still, despite the fact, the thought of having Azucena and Lucky Chloe as their primary targets continued to weigh him down. He thought he could’ve dealt with actual menaces to society like Bryan and Sergei, but instead, it was the clueless participants of the G-Corp’s sportswashing practices that he and his crew had to deal with. It seemed likely that Chevalier knew that those poor ladies weren’t much of a threat when compared to Kazuya’s actual stooges, but were they really that weak?

Not sure about Chloe, but from all Terry knew, Azucena was Peru’s best. She was an undisputed MMA champion at one point (and, perhaps, one of the many reasons why G-Corp took interest in her in the first place). The renowned Coffee Queen was far from being a weakling, but when it came to facing himself and his crew? He wasn’t too sure. He’d never fought her before, but he would’ve liked to make an educated guess that Azucena was, at the very least, competent enough to keep up with a fighter of his caliber.

The broad Urban Square immediately came to view, as the king of fighters and other Seekers designated for Team B strode into the heart of Esaka’s High Tier. The High Tier was where Terry was meant to reside—where the place that had long rejected him stood and jammed between other, bigger top tier dojos, waiting for the day when they elevated past the fourth wheel status. When compared to Esaka’s Low and even Mid Tier, the difference was day and night. Esaka’s High Tier was cleaner and crowder, perhaps far more vibrant and futuristic. It was like a look into Japan’s future—of what the country might turn into in the next ten or so years.

There, at the Urban Square, the sight of skyscrapers welcomed their arrivals, followed by gigantic electronic billboards endorsing various events, brands, and even highlights of today’s tournament matches. Surely, one of the showcased advertisements included the promotion for Azucena’s coffee brand, Azucena Blend. There, her bright face occupied half of the screen, as if announcing her presence. Just a few feet from Terry and his fellow Seekers stood a redheaded woman in a silver medieval armor. She was Hildegard, the person whom Chevalier told them to find. She seemed quite out of place when compared to other residents, though he refused to be surprised. Not when there was a team of samurai annually competing in his tournament. Friendly as always, Terry gave the German swordwielder a smile and a big wave, the pet monkey on his shoulder mimicking his gesture.

“Yo, sup?” he loudly greeted, then once close, offered Hildegard a handshake. “Nice meetin’ ya, lady. The name’s Terry. Terry Bogard. Chev told us to find you.”

Sure enough, the swordwielder went straight to the business shortly after, informing that Azucena was nearby, managing a publicity event where she openly challenged nearby paid fighters to a bout. While Terry didn’t want to hurt her, the prospect of challenging an erstwhile MMA champion seemed to be tempting him. Not only was he in a better mood to fight after he was friendhearted, he found that her fighting style might be comparable to his, considering he, too, mastered various martial arts disciplines. But then came the part where Hildegard told them to remain discreet. How were they supposed to remain discreet when the only way to approach their target was by joining a public event? Harry’s notion seemed to involve one of them participating in the event, as well, and while it was by no means discreet, Terry seemed to entertain it. Though, there was only one problem if Harry was the one challenging Azucena…

“Aww, sorry, Harry, but you don’t look so well yourself. You sure you’re gonna be okay with that, buddy?” Terry asked, his concerned gaze gesturing at Harry’s battered state. He, too, was bruised after his own duels, though not as badly as some Seekers were since he only competed in two matches. “I mean, it doesn’t look like you’re in full health after that brutal beat down against Sasquatch. I think I could be the one dealing with Azucena if you guys wanna. I’m a local, after all, and everybody in this city knows that I love to compete in street fights in my free time. It ain’t gonna look too sussy if I’m the one taking up her challenge, don’t you guys think? But then again, I don’t mind taking care of those big ass clankers, either.”

Then, a shrug. Whatever it was that his crew had in mind, Terry would just rather follow along, as long as their mission could be accomplished. More importantly, as long as they only used Azucena as a bait, instead of assassinating her. Still, given his mixed feelings in regards to beating the Coffee Queen senselessly, he didn’t mind being assigned for something else, either way.

“Actually, I have an idea in mind, too,” Terry claimed, taking a more serious tone as he tipped and readjusted his cap. “You told us to keep the whole act discreet, right, Hildegard? So, I’ve been thinking, why don’t we just pretend to act like some clueless spectators watching the entirety of the event from the sidelines? Y’know, just blending in with the crowd and all that? Then, after the event is over, when the crowd resolves and the shellheads lower their guards, that’s when we launch into action.” With hopeful eyes, he looked at each and every individual nearby, gauging their reactions. He wasn’t sure if this was a decent plan, either, but so far, it was the best he could come up with when it came to tackling their target discreetly. “But anyway, what do y’all say? I’m sure there has to be a better way we can approach this, right?”

In the meantime, Terry would just attempt to withstand the scent of the large smoke ring coming out of Harry’s cigar, trying as best as he could not to flinch. The sight was even funnier to look at since he stood next to the chubby detective, the smoke ring trying to circle the blonde’s face before its eventual dissipation. He could feel his face flushing, his allergy slowly kicking in. If only he could tell them that he was allergic to cigars, but he couldn’t risk looking ridiculous while telling so. Not when he was built like a brick shithouse.

Oh, God, please help me…

FIN.

Terry’s Training Room

Level 10 Terry Bogard

_{EXP : 48/100 (+12)
Location : Esaka’s High Tier
Time : Clear Thursday Afternoon
Word Count : 1,093}

---

▶︎• ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌၊|• 3:55
_{Neo City (Normal) – Tekken 8}

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

Level 10 Terry Bogard

_{EXP : 46/100 (+2)
Location : Winecup Hold, Esaka’s Mid Tier
Time : Sunny Thursday Afternoon
Word Count : 1,204}

Instead of being annoyed, Terry was rather amused when the Koopalings began questioning the best meals that the winery had to offer, instead of focusing on the important subject at hand. A part of that reminded him of every time he ate out with his surrogate son when the latter was roughly their age, and just the sight of that made him smile from ear to ear. One could say that he was even close to giggling.

“Alright, alright… I know you kiddos are hungry, but… hear me out!”

Then came the part where Terry came up with the notion of which Seekers should be assigned to which assignments, and it didn’t take a while for Junior to chime in and agree. His exhilaration for the mission finally prompted the king of fighters to giggle for real, saying something along the lines of: “Man, you sure look so excited for the gig, Raphael! I’m jealous that you got to kick more butts. Boo hoo!” And as much as he preferred combating as many battle-hardened individuals as possible, he knew he couldn’t just join Team A and leave Esaka when he had a tournament to attend. Albeit leisure, what if his team’s tournament schedule clashed horribly with Team A’s assignment? He’d never know. He could be right, but he could also be wrong about it.

Nevertheless, a number of Seekers (aside from the Koopalings) seemed to agree with what Terry had to suggest, with Yayama and Roland giving their own takes in particular. Chevalier—and to some degree Anji—also gave them all the right information needed to aid them in the missions ahead, even going as far as providing a map and further details of the type of Jack units the Koopalings and the rest of Team A had to deal with in Midgard. Surely, having decided to stay in Esaka, the information might not be that necessary for him, but he was still glad to be informed, regardless.

“Ooh… Gigas, huh?” he asked, arching a curious eyebrow. “They’re huge cyborgs, ain’t they? Good luck takin’ care of ’em, I guess.” He giggled, then shrugged, just imagining the laughable differences between the Koopalings’ sizes and theirs. However, considering the humongous mechanical striker that Junior accidentally summoned (and the same one that had Terry screaming “holy shit!”), he still had faith in the twins.

While a number of Seekers reasonably held their words back, some seemed to share the same skepticism that he couldn't help but sense throughout the rendezvous, most notably Therion. While Terry didn’t say it, he inwardly agreed with what the Octopath Traveler had to ask. Why bother chasing after G-Corp when their main goal was to overthrow the Four Kings? Wouldn’t it be far more effective if they could just focus on every individual directly connected to each King? But knowing the Kings and their so-called Heavenly Principles, perhaps things were easier said than done. And given Chevalier’s explanation, it was equally reasonable to use G-Corp as a gateway to their primary targets.

“Almost thought the same, too, but now I know. Hei’s offer is a trap in and of itself, ain’t it?” the king of fighters chimed in. “Glad none of us fell for the bait, then, I guess.”

When the rendezvous began to reach its conclusion, a white-haired waitress approached, taking and serving orders for both the Seekers and the UN representatives. Surely, like most staff, she didn’t look so fishy. Or so, it seemed? Regardless, Terry chose to hold his words back until there were no other people but his crew and their newfound allies around.

When the menu was finally passed to his gloved hands, the hat-wearing bruiser picked it, absently flipping its pages. For a Mid Tier restaurant, both the meals and the beverages served were surprisingly pricey, though not as expensive as those of a Top Tier restaurant like L’Amor. After what felt like a while, his eyes soon fell upon the picture of a cake-like dessert mixed and baked with beautifully arranged apple slices. Compared with other meals, the dessert was slightly more affordable than the rest. Though, before he could place an order, he first had to consult with his bestest friend.

“This one?” he asked, then peered over the monkey on his shoulder, pointing a finger at the picture. Ukee, being into all sorts of fruits, nodded without hesitation, screeching loud enough to draw the attention of the nearest customers. “Ha! Okay! We’re gonna eat that, then.” Once decided, he whistled at the white-haired waitress, about to place his order until… he struggled to read the name of the dessert. Funny since the dessert originated from France, and he didn’t have a problem understanding anything that came out of Chevalier’s mouth.

“One apple claw… erm, clay… uh… ugh!” Terry huffed, sheepishly scratching his blonde temple. It took him quite a bit until he finally got the name right. “One apple clafoutis, please. Thank you!” He smiled and nodded at the obviously trustworthy waitress.

When there was no other person nearby to eavesdrop, Terry began opening his mouth again, striking up a conversation. Unfortunately, when he did talk again, Band had already left the winery to attend his third World Warrior match, meaning that he possibly missed out on anything that the king of fighters was about to bring up next. Initially, he wanted to talk about who to send where with his KOF team while waiting for his order. However, he changed his mind. Instead of discussing with his teammates right away, he chose to ask a couple more questions to both Chevalier and the others present at the same table.

“Sorry, guys, I was just wondering. When we’ve agreed to come after Azucena and Chloe, it means that we just have to kick their asses senselessly, right? Not that we gotta finish them off?”

The way Chevalier suggested the plan early on, it sounded as if assassinating them wasn’t just an option. It was a must. Despite his notorious pacifism, ironically, Terry knew exactly how it felt like to (nearly) execute a living person—and the emptiness that came out of it. Some might say that he slain just the right person when he shoved Geese off the top of his tower, though nobody knew the fact that he never intended the bout to end that way. Hell, he never even wanted to kill him. All he wanted to do some years ago was to give the kingpin the bloodiest beatdown of his life, thinking it would’ve let his surrogate father rest easy. But as it turned out, he ended up doing exactly what Geese did to his father when he was 10, and rather than being satisfied, Terry was disgusted with himself.

While Geese did survive the fall, Terry had already made a promise since that he would’ve never made an attempt on someone’s life. But now that claiming two lives seemed to be the objective (let alone the fact that the only real crime that both Azucena and Chloe had ever done was cluelessly partaking in G-Corp’s sportswashing practice), was it wise for him to go ahead with it?

“They’re just baits, right? There has to be another way we can approach this, right?”

Up until that moment, Terry had never been so conflicted in his life.

---

Level 7 Ryu

_{EXP : 27/70 (+4)
Location : The Pools, Esaka
Time : Sunny Thursday Afternoon
Word Count : 3,308}

Ryu’s remorse was still palpable, even after he’d parted ways with Sakura. He’d been looking around the Pools area with a rather tensed look, his face devoid of expressions. As much as he didn’t want to admit, the prior sight of his fangirl breaking into tears and giving him a somber face was still weighing on him. While he didn’t know what prompted her to cry and said stuff like ‘it’s not your fault,’ he knew that he had to be part of the reason why she even felt gloomy to begin with. He assumed it might’ve had anything to do with him leaving Esaka for a long period of time, but what if it was something else? Something far grander and darker than his rather miniscule brain could think of? Something related to his… gleaming red eyes?

No matter! As long as I’m here, Sakura will be fine. I just have to continue fighting and meet her in the bracket, do I?

Most importantly, he didn’t want the guilt to get the best out of him in the tournament. Not when he’d gotten this far. Breaking out of his reverie, the street fighter began scanning the area seriously, finding that he’d absently strolled past a small pond with waterfalls and statues of Herculean men grappling with mythical horses. If the nearby map board was to go by, his next stage, F-187, was supposedly within reach. And it appeared that he couldn’t be any truer.

▶︎• ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌၊|• 2:06
_{Theme of Makoto Mizoguchi – Fighter’s History}

Ahead of him was a spacious timber bridge connecting the stony-floored area with the small, abandoned island where the alleged ‘bonus cars from Hell’ were dumped, holding a torch and a traditional kettledrum that simply matched the illustration provided by the map board. Overlooking the bridge was a cliff with a massive waterfall cascading past its bedrock and an abandoned traditional Japanese house surrounded by a cluster of trees facing the cliff from afar.

Right across from the street fighter on the bridge was a fellow headbanded man seemingly in his late 20s or early 30s hurriedly running towards the makeshift stage. At first glance, he looked almost identical to the original World Warrior champion, save for the white (seemingly lengthier) headband, the lack of karate gi, and the dark school trousers—a peculiar sight for a grown adult who was about as old as the other headbanded warrior was. Ryu recognized who this man was. In fact, both his dojo and the man’s dojo had a rather intriguing history together.

Once upon a time, the Street Fighter Dojo took a legal action against the Fighter’s History Dojo after its founder, Jinborov Karnovski, allegedly stole and produced cheap imitations of the Street Fighter Dojo’s missing secret scrolls for his dojo’s applicants to learn from. While Karnov was later proven to be innocent (and the missing secret scrolls have never been found until this day), the damage had already been done, and since then, the Fighter’s History Dojo had been struggling to attract new applicants. Nowadays, though, the Fighter’s History Dojo has become one of the many subsidiaries of the KOF Dojo spreading all over Esaka. While their applicants used to be banned from competing in the World Warrior tournament during the legal proceedings that took years to conclude, things had started to change lately with the inclusions of Mizoguchi and Samchay.

“Mizoguchi!” Ryu greeted, as he closed in on his third opponent, his bare strides finally grazing the bridge’s rough, ligneous surface.

“Hah! Ryu! There you are!” Mizoguchi returned the warm greeting with a wide smile, panting and halting his strides. Hands on his knees, he tried to control his breath before adding: “Shimatta! Guess I’m late to the party now, huh? Sorry to disappoint ya.”

Ryu, seeing how Mizoguchi had been bowing repeatedly in apology, drew an amused smile. “It’s fine, Mizoguchi. The match hasn’t even started yet. Though, it is true that I’ve been expecting your arrival,” he reassured, then lowered his duffle bag, letting it fall close to his feet. Then, he reciprocated his opponent’s bow of apology once. “It’s good to see a Fighter’s History Dojo representative in this tournament after what feels like an eternity. I almost assumed you had already signed up for the King of Fighters tournament like you normally did.”

Mizoguchi widened his already wide smile, his teeth bare and his hand around the nape of his neck. Just like Ryu, he still remembered the bad blood between their dojos. “Yeah, I gotta admit, that court thing was a bit of a hot mess, ain’t it? Glad y’all ain’t so mad at us anymore,” the Jissen karate practitioner joked before adding: “Actually, I did wanna enter the KOF tournament, but you know what held me back?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ryu admitted with an arching eyebrow. “Do tell me, then. Perhaps you missed the thrill of competing in the World Warrior tournament, my friend?”

“Nah… It ain’t just that,” Mizoguchi revealed, darted his eyes left and right, then leaned a step closer to Ryu to whisper: “There’s somebody I’m looking after…”

Ryu widened his eyes momentarily before narrowing his gaze at Mizoguchi. “Oh, really?” he asked. “And who might this person be?” Face stern, the street fighter was half-expecting Mizoguchi’s target to be somebody as threatening as Bison (or perhaps, Bison himself). But as it turned out…

“It’s the guy who stole Naniwa Ichiban’s mighty octopus the other day,” the comical headbanded man revealed, which elicited a puzzled reaction from Ryu. “And I think it’s not even a guy. He looks like a… clanker.”

“Huh? Clanker?” Ryu asked, oblivious to the rather modern lingo used by Mizoguchi. “What’s that?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Mizoguchi asked, gritting his teeth and facepalming. And here he thought he was the most old-school guy ever. “It’s a robot. R-O-B-O-T. Got that? And not only did that clankin’ scum leave with the octopus, nope, he even bet the crap outta the owner while I was away! And that just doesn’t sit right with a top tough guy like me, Ryu. ’Least not when the owner’s my father’s friend.”

“Oh, so that’s what! I, uh… I’m sorry,” Ryu said, his face dropping slightly. “So you’re saying that this robot you are looking after is… participating in this tournament?”

“Yosh!” Mizoguchi confirmed with a nod, smirking and bumping both of his fists together with a vigorous bam! “Heard rumors about ’em joining the tournament, so that’s why I’m here! To give that clanker a historical ass-whooping and avenge Naniwa Ichiban’s owner for good!”

As he listened, Ryu caressed his mandible and nodded, visibly impressed. “Hmm… I see. I commend your fighting spirit, Mizoguchi, but hearing your reason makes me wonder… Is it possible that the robot you were referring to was… Seth? Or was it Jack-5?” And he only thought of Jack-5 upon remembering what happened at the Banishing Flats last night. Jack-5 attacking a random takoyaki shop nearby might not be too hard to believe, after all.

At the question, Mizoguchi shook his head. “Nah… No chance in Hell,” he answered. “Actually, I don’t think any of us has ever seen this robot before. They said it’s awkwardly jacked, faceless, has some kinda funny-lookin’ golden chest plates and, I guess, red gauntlets?”

Hearing the description, Ryu was even more puzzled. He tried to recall if he’d ever met any machine with the exact same appearance in the past, but so far? He couldn’t remember any. “Hmm… Odd. I don’t think there is anybody in Esaka who looks exactly like that, let alone in the World Warrior tournament. At least, not that I can think of,” he said with a small, defeated shrug. “Nevermind… Let us fight, shall we? I’m sure we’ll find that mysterious ambusher you’re looking for, as either of us advances.”

Mizoguchi grinned again, struck an akimbo pose, then pointed a dramatic finger at Ryu, his toned chest puffing. “Ha ha… Yosh! Now we’re talking! I hope you know that I’ve been waiting for this moment,” he told Ryu, enthused and exhilarated, before stomping the ground and striking a pose similar to one of his opponent’s taunts. “Ora!”

“Koi!” Closing his eyes, Ryu then brought his hands over the back of his head, tightening the knot of his headband. He drew a deep, deep breath. “The answer lies… in the heart of battle!” The street fighter opened his eyes, then crossed his arms over his face, slamming them with a sharp motion. Then, instead of a metaphysical bell, the kettledrum was drummed.

DUM!

DUM!

Loud enough to attract the nearby unoccupied contestants. As both competing fighters assumed their respective stances, the glittering light emerged and flew out of the water, transforming into a cue separating the two that read:

---

_{RYU VS. MAKOTO MIZOGUCHI
ROUND 1 – FIGHT!}

---

As usual, the glittering light dispersed and transformed into a timer and the pairs of health bars and power meters. The two headbanded men began to circle one another, trying to get into each other’s head. This was the third round, so Ryu expected Mizoguchi to perform immaculately, given that he’d gone this far. From the sidelines, the street fighter could already hear dozens of fellow Esakans screaming his name, telling him to “rough him up!” and that he should “show no mercy!” As expected, given the history between the Street Fighter and the Fighter’s History Dojo, the spectators didn’t seem to treat Mizoguchi nicely, calling him all kinds of insulting nicknames such as “Ugly Ryu!” and “Fighter’s Knockoff!” While Ryu remained unfazed, Mizoguchi, on the other hand, started to sweat and darted his eyes around anxiously, visibly affected by the crowd’s brutality.

After a moment of silence, eventually, Ryu leaped back just enough to distance himself from his opponent. Mizoguchi did the same, as if already reading what the street fighter was thinking. Sure enough, when Ryu launched a fireball out of his hands, Mizoguchi did the exact same thing, letting the tiger-shaped projectile collide with Ryu’s palm-shaped one.

“HADOUKEN!!”

“TIGER BAZOOKA!!”

WHAM!

The impact was so great it created a sharp, resounding noise upon collision. Perhaps now he knew why most Esakans labeled Mizoguchi one of his biggest, most blatant copycats. The way the delinquent approached the bout—coupled with his fireball technique—said it all. A funny coincidence, indeed. It felt like he was fighting himself more than anything.

Both competing men continued to distance themselves from one another, even after their projectiles had collided. Face hardening, Mizoguchi ducked and brought his hand forth, blasting another “TIGER BAZOOKA!!” out of his palm as if it would’ve fruited anything. Ryu, predictably, went with the same approach, bringing both of his hands forth to launch another “HADOUKEN!!” out of his palms. It was a bigger, heavier Hadouken than the one he launched prior, easily engulfing the Tiger Bazooka before its eventual dissipation.

_{“Kuso...”}

Impatient and irritated, Mizoguchi went on to try a different approach. Instead of distancing himself, he closed in on the street fighter with an abrupt leap, executing his own take on Ryu’s famed dragon punch. Seeing this, Ryu did the exact thing, leaping forth and countering Mizoguchi’s fiery dragon punch with that of his own.

“KORYUSAI!!”

“SHORYUKEN!!”

POW!

The flying uppercuts connected with each other, erupting an explosive hitspark that jolted and sent both lookalikes back atop the bridge. When Ryu finally reached the ground again, Mizoguchi wasted no time and bombarded him with a series of fiery, flying kicks—a technique oddly similar to a certain long forgotten variation of Ryu’s Tatsumaki Senpuukyaku. The headbanded delinquent sounded his battle cry aloud, though it wasn’t clear whether he was shouting “CHESTO, CHESTO, CHESTO!!” or “RENZO, RENZO, RENZO!!” due to the crowd’s deafening noises.

CLASH!

Fortunately, when the Renzoku Geri was within reach, Ryu was able to anticipate the series of kicks in time, instinctively parrying each and everyone of them with an energy-laced wrist. Each time the wrist connected with his opponent’s foot, a loud clash echoed, a blue, almost fluid-like spark emerging. Before Mizoguchi could finish the combination attack with an ankle drop…

THWACK!

…Ryu had already lunged forth with a high-leaping hurricane kick.

“TATSUMAKI SENPUUKYAKU!!”

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

WHAM!

The spinning kick hammered the delinquent’s cranium over and over, pushing him further and further towards the other end of the bridge. He could feel the street fighter’s bare ankle knocking his brown temple rather firmly, building up his stun meter slowly but surely. The harsh mockery of the spectators grew louder and sharper, urging Ryu to knock him out right there and then because they couldn’t stand his opponent. Fortunately, in spite of the rejecting bunch, Mizoguchi wasn’t truly alone. The other Fighter’s History guys were present, stuffed and hidden between the mocking bunch by the sidelines, yet their noises were equally loud.

“C’mon, Makoto! Don’t just stand there like a wimp!” shouted a spiky-haired detective, his teeth gnashing and his clenching hand raising high. “Rough him up and knock him out!”

“Yeah, Mizoguchi!” shouted a brown-haired woman in a torn Taekwondo uniform. “C’mon! You can do better than that. I know you can!”

“Go for his weak spot, Mizoguchi!” advised a nak muay with a thin mohawk who also happened to participate in the same tournament. “Remember our last training!”

Samchay’s advice was loud enough to reach Ryu’s ears, as he continued to pressure Mizoguchi with one strike after another. Knowing the legal dispute between his dojo and his opponent’s, it just occurred to him that the reason why the Fighter’s History Dojo emerged victorious in the court was because they successfully proved that the contents of the alleged imitations of the Street Fighter Dojo’s secret scrolls detailed the many ways they could utilize their opponents’ weak points to their advantages (the cheat codes rarely taught by other dojos), instead of blatantly copying the secret techniques from the alleged stolen scrolls. The scrolls dictated that every fighter had their own weak point, and it’d even been a known secret among many Esakans that the Fighter’s History combatants had the most jarring weak points of them all, which led Karnov to compose said scrolls. Now, it was clear that all Ryu had to do was to figure out what Mizoguchi’s weak point was.

Initially, Mizoguchi managed to fend himself from the subsequent flurry of strikes, blocking each flail and kick coming his way. However, as Ryu began mixing up lighter, more digestible strikes with heavier ones, the delinquent’s defense began to falter. He continued to be knocked back, perhaps close to getting cornered. Loud grunts and red liquid drops began to leave his mouth, albeit in the most theatrical fashion.

POW!

POW!

WHAM!

“Ouchouchouchouch–!!”

When he began working on Mizoguchi’s temples with his fists, it didn’t take long for Ryu to notice that his opponent’s white headband had been flickering uncontrollably. Perhaps, this was the kind of weak points that Karnov had been talking about in those scrolls. Instead of a body part, it was an accessory presumed to grant a Fighter’s History combatant either a protection or a special ability, which made it all the more obvious. All it took for Ryu now was to execute Jodan Nirengeki—a flail and a kick so strong it instantly stripped his opponent off his headband.

WHACK!

And just like that, the kick sent Mizoguchi colliding with the nearby kettledrum with a resounding thump, immediately bouncing him back across the bridge. He quickly sprung up, but instead of entering his fighting stance, the delinquent was frozen in place, his brown hair disheveled and his stun meter completely filled. He could feel the stage around him spinning, imaginary octopuses swirling around his head rather comically.

As somebody who valued fair fights, Ryu chose to wait for Mizoguchi to recover, while he began charging and concentrating his inner force, spirals of dark ink forming around him. They grew thicker and hotter by seconds, though even after what felt like forever, the delinquent remained frozen, unable to move nor fight back. A yellowish light began to glow around him, flickering faster and faster as if urging him to execute his Focus Attack already. The majority of the crowd even agreed, demanding Ryu to just “knock him out now!”

“Urgh…!! Mizoguchi, gomen...”

Unable to contain the overwhelming rush of energy any longer, Ryu forced himself to channel his spiraling inner force into an ink-trailed fist, bashing his opponent’s torso with a resounding…

KA–POW!

Eyes wide, face pale, Mizoguchi could feel his bones crumbling and his knees shaking at the sensation. He could’ve sworn he was close to throwing up right there and then. Even worse, it wasn’t just an average Kaze no Kobushi that Ryu executed onto Tiger the other bout, but rather, the Level 3 variant that dealt with far higher damage.

Mizoguchi staggered a few strides back, hands around his ribs, as his eyes desperately searched for his own health bar. In just a split second, the super move had depleted what was left of his health bar, emptying it altogether.

“R– Really!? I…”

He was left speechless. After a small, bloody cough, the delinquent rolled his eyes—more out of exasperation than it was overwhelming agony. He brought himself down on his knees, then crumpled, still deciding between laying on his midriff or simply kneeling. His arms fastened their clutch around his ribs, and his ferocious face sank deep into the bridge, tears coursing down his cheeks at the knot in his chest. As the match reached its conclusion, the kettledrum was drummed.

DUM!

DUM!

Both the timer and the pairs of bars flew overhead, merging to form an enormous announcement that read:

---

_{K.O.
ROUND 1 – RYU WINS!}

---

Mizoguchi was strong, indeed, but Ryu also thought that his opponent could’ve delivered a better performance than what he showed him. Most of the spectators, however, exploded in joy, as Ryu emerged victorious in what appeared to be a one-sided bout. Out of sympathy, the street fighter approached his fellow headbanded warrior, holding out a helping hand.

“What’s wrong, Mizoguchi?” he asked. “Haven’t been feeling like yourself?”

Gnashing his teeth, Mizoguchi lifted his face, then accepted his opponent’s hand, using it to prop himself up. The tears still welled up on the corners of his eyes, but he was quick to wipe them away—a sight laughable for somebody as brutish as he was.

“I knew I could’ve done better, but dammit… Those dumbasses,” Mizoguchi protested, then glared sidelong at the disrespectful jabronis by the sidelines, his ears vividly catching the chant “Ugly Ryu!” shouted loudly and repeatedly. “They’ve been distracting me the whole time! What’s wrong with these punk ass wimps, anyway??”

Ryu followed where Mizoguchi was glaring at, capturing the same view of rabid spectators calling his opponent all sorts of derogatory nicknames. Oftentimes, they’d even trash around the bridge, tossing toilet papers and peculiar banana peels in Mizoguchi’s direction. And just the sight of that made Ryu scowl.

“Well, this doesn’t look too good,” he remarked before looking back at the fellow headbanded man in front of him, his face softening. “It’s fine. The next time we fight, just pretend as if those people never exist. The fight is what matters the most, not some frivolous jeers.”

It’d been revealed now that the crowd had gotten the best out of his opponent. Unlike Ryu, Mizoguchi had a very, very short fuse, so managing emotions wasn’t exactly his forte. Though, hearing the street fighter’s advice, it did make him think that he should’ve been able to put aside his doubt and fury rather than let them ruin his performance.

“Welp, yeah… I guess you’re right, Ryu! This is the match of my dreams. I’ve always wanted to fight you. I shouldn’t have let some assholes discourage me from fighting,” Mizoguchi agreed, realization finally dawning on him. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for him to put up a cheery demeanor again, his thumb striking up and his wide, optimistic grin restored. “Yosh! Don’t worry, Ryu! Starting the next round, I’ll give ya my best shot!”

“Now that’s the spirit!” Ryu approved, then raised his fists below his mandible, a small smile drawn. “So, Mizoguchi, ready for Round 2?”

“Oh, you bet!” Mizoguchi exclaimed, bumping his fists together vigorously. “I’ll bring ya my A-game, Ryu. That’s a promise. Kakattekoi!”

FIN.

Terry’s Training Room

Spoiler for Terry & Ryu.

Terry’s Training Room

Spoiler for Ryu (3).

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

The Street Fighters

_{Esaka’s Low Tier | Thursday Afternoon
@Terry Bogard @Zoey Boey}

---

Level 7 Ryu: 24/70
Level 11 Sakura Kasugano: 31/110
Word Count: 2,542
EXP Gained: +3

---

If there was anything that Ryu loved the most next to fighting, that was eating. Coincidentally, he could already feel his stomach rumbling rather wildly after his second match against Tiger. He knew he hadn’t eaten anything since this morning, skipping breakfast just to go straight into the heart of battle. Considering the gap between his second and third round was a bit longer than usual, the street fighter decided to go to the nearest (and perhaps the most affordable) eatery he could find just below the Pools.

It just so happened that Pao Pao Café was situated only a few feet from the lift he’d taken, and so Ryu headed there, only to be greeted by the owners Richard and his protege Bob. He thought both men were quite hospitable, with Bob even went as far as declaring his desire to fight him if he ever managed to win the Losers Bracket of the World Warrior tournament. Ryu, on the other hand, didn’t really talk much and just smiled at both men, parting ways only after his roasted-garlic mayo egg teriyaki burger had been served and paid. On his way back to the lift, the street fighter gobbled the Japanese-styled burger with gusto, savoring its rich flavours. For some reason, even the paper wrap used to enfold the burger had his face on it, as if the menu was specifically made just for him.

However, before Ryu could truly walk further, somebody caught his attention. A familiar face, perhaps. As he halted on his shoeless feet, he stopped munching, craned his head, and squinted his eyes a little, his puffing cheeks hilariously stuffed with food. It didn’t take a while for him to recognize who the said familiar figure was: a fellow street fighter, seemingly heading in the same direction after guiding a violet-haired woman in a finely embroidered kimono to Quick Rise. He took a moment to approach her, his bare strides drawing closer towards the female street fighter.

“Sakura?” he questioned the tomboyish girl in a baggy yellow jacket, his voice muffled by the food in his mouth. He quickly swallowed. “A pleasant surprise. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Sakura recognized the voice immediately, even muffled. ”Ryu-san?!” She whirled, eyes wide. Unlike the casual demeanor of the world warrior, Sakura was dumbstruck by this revelation and only stared at her hero. It felt like a lifetime since he first freed her from Galeem’s influence, all the way back in Lumbridge. She didn’t even know what to say or where to start.

”..!” She stammered.

At Sakura’s astonished reaction, Ryu arched an eyebrow. He didn’t remember ever seeing his biggest fangirl in the world being this surprise before. When he snapped and succumbed to his Dark Hado, maybe, but that was ages ago when he was still relatively green within the fighting business. It’d almost felt like a lifetime since he overcame that inner demon within him, anyway. And so, he curled a gentle smile, amused.

“What’s the matter, Sakura? You seem like you’ve seen a ghost,” Ryu asked with his head slightly tilting to the right, the tails of his headband swinging along the gesture. “How is your training going, so far? I heard you’re competing in the same tournament as I am.”

Ryu her hero, who saved her from Galeem and even before that. He was here, infront of her, and he was once again consumed by Galeem’s evil curse. How had that happened? He was fine the last time she saw him. Except it was her fault he hadn’t been able to join the Seekers, even if he wanted to. Then they had separated and now, this.

Emotion overwhelmed her. Her eyes began to water and she put her fists to her eyes, turning away from him.

”Sorry, it’s not your fault. It’s something else. My training is going really great, Ryu-san.” She managed. ”Just give me a second, please.”

Ryu, noticing the stark shift in his fangirl’s state of mind, was palpably oblivious to the irony of the situation. While he’d managed to overcome the Dark Hado within him, he now had to deal with a different demon resting within him, waiting to be awakened. It was the kind of demon who turned his eyes red. The kind of demon whom he also, ironically, freed Sakura from when they met at the now demolished Lumbridge. It felt like a lifetime ago when it happened, even though it’d only been roughly a week since. Surely, this Ryu wouldn’t have known anything that his prior iteration had gone through with Sakura (and possibly the other Seekers), especially not when he was still blindfolded by this same curse that Galeem had planted in each and every resident of the World of Light. When Sakura shifted against him, the world warrior quickly finished his lunch, then took a small step forth, placing a gentle hand over her shoulder.

“What’s the matter, Sakura?” he asked with a soothing voice, both puzzled and curious. “Are you alright? Did… Did I do something wrong?” All of a sudden, he felt remorseful, his face dropping and his heart aching. Worse after Sakura reassured him that “it’s not your fault.” Knowing how rare it was for his fangirl to cry like that, he thought he must’ve done something that elicited the exact reaction from her, but what could it be?

Sakura cleared her throat and wiped her eyes quickly. ”No! No. I am not lying. It’s not your fault.” It was her fault, really. ”You just caught me off guard. I was thinking about— something else.”

Ryu was a very straight forward person. But there was no way to explain any of this to him, especially when his mind was deluded. Again. Somehow. She lifted her shirt and used it to dry her eyes and then turned back to him with a smile.

”I really am happy to see you.” She said.

“Likewise, Sakura. Likewise,” Ryu replied with a weak, wistful nod. Then, he hesitated. “But… are you sure you’re alright, Sakura? I mean, it’s not like you to cry like this. If there is anything you’d like to talk about, I’m willing to listen, you know?”

Despite her smile, Ryu could kind of tell that Sakura was still burdened, deep down. What could it be that had been bothering her recently? Was anybody after her? Or was she just overwhelmed with joy that she couldn’t help but cry when they finally reunited after what felt like a lifetime? If only he could read her mind, but he was no telepath. If only he could convince her to get a weight off her mind, but he knew he had no right to force her to talk when she continued to refuse. He and Sakura were the same specimens, after all. Instead of using their mouths, they’d rather express themselves with their fists and kicks, letting their fighting prowess speak for themselves. And it showed.

”Tell you what. If you really are worried about me, I’ll explain everything to you the best way I know how.” She rose her clenched fist towards him. ”When we meet in bracket.” That fire in her, the spirit of combat, shone brightly and she grinned.

”Until then, let’s just be happy, okay?” She said with an earnest tilt of her head.

Ryu was, indeed, worried about her, his guilt still readable across his face. Why wouldn’t he when one of his steadfast comrades—a ray of sunshine such as herself—suddenly broke in tears and gave him the gloomiest look he’d ever seen on her usually bright face? But as were most battle-hardened fighters residing in the Tiered City, the world warrior did believe that every flail and kick could convey more meanings than the mouth could ever express. If Sakura would rather speak through her actions, then so be it, he thought. Maybe that way, she would’ve been able to let go of her burden rather freely.

“Yosh! That’s the way I like it. The way we like it,” Ryu reciprocated with a slight smile, clearly referring to her promise to explain everything once they met in the bracket. He raised and collided his knuckles with hers. “Cheer up, will you? I’m sure you’ve been doing spectacular in the tournament. I can’t wait to see you in action firsthand. Let’s just hope that our paths eventually cross again in the World Warrior tournament, should we?” He then tightened his grip on the rough string of his duffle bag, his spirit reignited despite his uncertainty. “So, ready for the next round?” He knew she probably was without a shadow of a doubt.

”I’m sure we will. I don’t plan on losing. And I know you won’t.” Sakura said. For once, she had to force the bounce in her step, but it became natural after a few moments.

”I’m fighting against someone named Arina Makihara next. I don’t know ‘em. The last guy I fought was spinning around like crazy. He kind of reminded me of Jimmy-san, or maybe Honda-san. Though a bit more dour than both.” Sakura tapped her chin.

Ryu’s smile went a little wider—not just out of amusement, but due to her progress in the tournament so far. While he wasn’t quite familiar with the nature-loving giant of a man she had as her third opponent, if Golrio was as much of a powerhouse as either Honda or Blanka was as Sakura described, then perhaps, she’d done splendidly well in the competition so far. And that really made the world warrior happy, seeing how she’d grown as a fighter.

“I’m sure you’ll do amazing in your match against Arina, too. Holding your own against a man with Honda’s or Blanka’s size is impressive in and of itself. Though, I’m not too surprised. I’ve always known you have a knack for fighting from the first time we met,” Ryu complimented, snickering quietly. Then, briefly, he drifted his eyes towards their upper corners as if trying to recall something. “As for me, I fought Skullo for my first round. I’m certain you know who he is. Then, for my second round, I fought a martial master whose fighting spirit was about as fiery as Ken’s was. They even look similar, though their fighting styles are the complete opposite of one another.” He readjusted the duffle bag on his shoulder one last time, ready to stroll. “As for my third round? I’ll be fighting Makoto Mizoguchi from the Fighter’s History Dojo. A pleasant surprise, don’t you think? Considering the past legal dispute between our dojo and his…”

As they continued to chatter and closed in on the nearest lift, Ryu remembered something. It was a conversation that he had with a number of fellow locals yesterday afternoon—a conversation that concerned Sakura in a way.

“I almost forgot, but there is, indeed, something that I’d love to talk about with you, Sakura. I must say that I’ve been hearing things about your heroic deeds since the first time we parted ways, and I was… inspired. Perhaps, we could talk more about that after our next fights?”

It was true that the story of the younger street fighter battling a group of yokai alongside the Seekers had also come to his ears, thanks to Richard and several other Esakans and nearby villagers witnessing the fray. The notion of contributing to the world and making an impact outside of the fighting business had been tempting him in recent years, especially given his renewed resolve. Perhaps, it was no coincidence that he was reunited with his old friend this afternoon. It had to happen for a reason, and that reason seemed to be aligned with his journey to self-improvement.

“I mean, if you don’t mind, of course…”

Sakura blinked, and looked at Ryu. ”I…inspired you..?” Sakura asked, voice quietly dazzled.

The world warrior gently closed his eyes and nodded. “Indeed, Sakura, you heard it right.” he confirmed, his words straightforward and matter-of-factly.

”I’d- I’d love to talk with you! About anything you want!” Sakura said, shaking her hands around. ”I mean-” Overexcited, she tried to tone it down to look cooler in front of him.

”I mean, yeah. Like, whatever. I just fought some Yokai and some turtles…I was with a giant wolf for the monster turtles, and she did a lot of the work, too, so…y’know, it’s um, it’s no big deal. But yeah we can talk about it.” Sakura said.

Ryu raised an eyebrow and grinned, close to snickering at Sakura’s hilariously sheepish reaction. She might’ve found what he said odd and flattering, he thought, but it was what it was. Everything that he said (from hearing about her heroic deeds to being inspired by his own admirer), he meant every single one of them. Or perhaps, it also had more to do with Sakura’s prior gloomy expression than it was his change of heart. Maybe if he got close to the fellow street fighter and perhaps joined one of her adventures, he’d make her feel significantly better. He had a hunch that he needed to know the reason why she felt so guilty and uncertain all of a sudden, after all.

“Well, that sounds… intriguing, Sakura. I surely would love to hear more about it,” Ryu expressed. “I know those small creatures can be troubling at times, but… battling an army of monstrous turtles with a giant wolf? Why do I have a feeling I know who that wolf is?” The older street fighter hummed, his pensive eyes locking with the opening lift ahead. Not sure if it had anything to do with him recalling a long, distant memory or that he misremembered something. Still, the sound of said ‘giant wolf’ (albeit vague) was strangely familiar. “Nevermind. Let’s just focus on the battle ahead, shall we? We can save that for another time.”

And so, the street fighters entered the lift together, moving back to the tier above for their respective matches.

FIN.