Street Fighter: Dream Never Ends

by Talyn Rahman-Figueroa

  “Sakura? Oh please, you are not serious, are you? Oh my God, don’t go in there.”

  Kei whined with a long face in protest to the plan. Her legs were aching from running after Sakura, and her throat had seized up from yelling so much.

  “I don’t want to do this, Sakura. It’s so stupid,” Kei tried again.

  “No, it’s not stupid,” Sakura snapped. “This is gonna be first class entertainment, trust me. It’ll be fun to teach him a lesson for a change. We gotta show him what a real sensei should be like.”

  “But we have real senseis back at school. C’mon, let’s go back before we get expeled for good!”

  Sakura laughed sarcastically and pushed the door open. Kei moaned, unable to believe that she was skipping school purely out of peer pressure. Her protests to slow Sakura down never worked. “Umm, you wanna at least wait up for me?” she groaned, rubbing her chin irritably as she approached the dojo.

  From the outside, the training hall looked like a fancy store. Kei shielded her eyes from the bright neon lights that temporarily blinded her. Saikyo Dojo, it read in pink luminous letters, with a caricature of the teacher as its logo. Made uncomfortable by the prank, Kei’s knees trembled. She was never enthused by Sakura’s scheming ideas, no matter how good she made things sound. Instead, she felt like a sheep being led to a wolf’s den.

  “What you playing at?” Sakura yelled, with her head poking out of the door, startling Kei. “Get inside before you ruin everything,” she said, yanking Kei into the room.

  The hall was a decent size with a Zen quality to it. The walls were painted a soft peach, and lush plants were lined between wooden benches. It sure didn’t smell as if anyone had practiced in here, Sakura thought. On the contrary, the odor of paint was quite pungent. They gazed around the dojo, looking at framed photographs that displayed cheesy pictures of the instructor. He was shaking hands with successful competitors and Asian celebrities.

  “Just remember what we’ve talked about and you’ll be fine,” Sakura grinned, pulling up her socks securely up over her knees. With a tug, she tightened the thick white headband around her forehead, and ruffled her hair over it.

  Kei stuck her tongue out behind Sakura’s back before following after her. She couldn’t help but feel nervous. She quickly removed her jacket and split her long hair into two ponytails. She at least had to look like a would-be martial arts student, even if they were in their traditional school uniforms.

  “I know,” Kei answered, half reassured. “It’s all a play fight. Just don’t push me too hard, okay?” She looked around, ignoring Sakura as she performed a routine of stretches. “This place looks like some sort of modern art museum. It’s pretty cool actually.”

  “Cool?” Sakura spat, disgusted, her head dangling in between her legs. “You clearly haven’t been to a real dojo. This is an embarrassment, trust me.”

  She shook her head in dismay, stretching her arm overhead while Kei jittered in the corner with a look of boredom. Watching Sakura run at her, her expression soon changed.

  “What the heck...” she squealed, her body bending forward with Sakura’s weight entirely on her back. Instinctively, her arms tightened around Sakura’s spindly legs, and struggled to keep herself upright. “Sak, you’re starting to strangle...ugh...me.”

  The two struggled to gain control over their own actions, their voices getting louder and louder until the sound of a shrieking whistle silenced them. Upon seeing the leer of a man dressed head to toe in pink, Kei dropped Sakura to the hard floor with a thump.

  “I like it. You both seem enthusiastic,” Dan beamed, dipping his head low upon seeing Sakura. He gasped in disbelief that an ex-pupil had returned.

  “Oh, glorious Sensei,” Sakura said, her face filled with an exaggerated smile. “I brought a friend who is itching to learn your inspirational style.”

  Kei glimpsed at Sakura from the corner of her eye. Unlike the overstated grin Dan wore, her trembling smile was suppressed. With his mismatched pink gi and his pink baseball cap, Dan looked like a cross between a baseball coach and a ballet instructor. It was a pathetic sight.

  “Hibiki Sensei,” Sakura grimaced, “I tried my best to teach her your fighting methods, just as you’ve taught me. But I’m no teacher, so I thought it was best to bring her straight to you so she could learn the correct techniques. Saikyo style.”

  Sakura punched the air for good measure.

  “I’m Kei Chitose,” she said, bowing low to the ground. “If you may, Sensei, I would like to start my training immediately.”

  Inspecting Kei with his eyes, Dan frowned slightly. She was scrawny and pale, and looked incapable of doing any arduous tasks. Sakura, on the other hand, looked much stronger. Her legs were meatier and her knuckles were bronzed.

  “I don’t know,” he pondered, circling them with doubt. “People say Saikyo is a style, but I say Saikyo is a lifestyle with style. I see little of that lifestyle with style in you, little girl.”

  He bent low so he was at eye-level with Kei. Uncomfortable with his sudden closeness, she took a step back. She gulped.

  “Oh, she has heaps of style,” Sakura bellowed, putting an arm around Kei’s shoulder until she was in a loose headlock. “I’m not friends with just anyone, you know.”

  “Thanks a lot,” Kei grunted, trying to wriggle out of the grip. “But I really am up for this whole lifestyle change,” she addressed to Dan.

  He smiled, nodding. “You’re staying too, right?”

  Sakura smiled slightly at Dan’s question. His eyes widened at her nodded response.

  “Yuri yahoo!” he yelled, jumping into the air, delighted.

  Kei held her mouth from laughing. Sakura’s previous imitation of him had been so accurate and funny, but it was even more hilarious to watch it done for real.

  “Well sure,” Dan blurted, smoothing out his long ponytail. “I won’t bother with the fees and formalities yet. First, I would like to introduce a short sequence of punches. Let’s see how far you get with that.”

  “Goody!” Sakura exclaimed, clapping her hands. Kei frowned.

  “So, we shall begin by punching like this.”

  The girls stood in a line as they watched Dan execute a punch. “Watch this,” Sakura whispered with an exaggerated wink.

  Dan rested his fists against his waist and flicked his right arm, then repeated the same routine with his left. The girls giggled as Dan screeched “kiah” as if he was giving birth. His face contorted with each yell, and his eyebrows furrowed in a high arch.

  “See how I use my hips to push forward the energy. My raised voice allows me to execute the technique to a heightened level of brute strength. The thrust to the hips and the outlet from the throat is a ‘force to the blow’. A deadly combination.”

  “This was worth skipping school for,” Sakura said to Kei, amused. It was almost too painful to keep herself from laughing.

  “Energy comes from inside,” he continued, pounding his chest. “Keeping that burning energy inside is not good for the heart. As I’ve said to you, Saikyo is a lifestyle. Now you try.”

  Kei and Sakura copied him, but their postures were slack. Their backs were bent slightly forward, and they were punching the air with no strength. But Dan was pleased that Sakura had the courage to yell “kiah” in the same fashion as he did.

  “Forward punch, retreat. Forward punch, get back. Punch, two, three, four, retreat. Thrust to the hips, fire out the mouth,” he instructed, pacing around them.

  “I would like this opportunity to show you what we have been practicing in your absence, Hibiki Sensei,” Sakura beamed chirpily, continuing the giddy sequence.

  Dan’s gaze wandered. He stroked his forehead with his fingers, unsure of the idea. While Sakura spoke, he saw genuine fear in Kei’s eyes.

  “Kei’s like a peacock in a cage, you see,” she continued. “Her energy needs to be unleashed.”

  Dan nodded, gently pushing Kei back to Sakura so that t
hey stood in a line. Then he suddenly blew his whistle. The girls jumped, startled.

  “Excellent idea,” he decided and grinned, repositioning the hat on his head.

  “Am I ready to spar?” Kei asked herself rhetorically, but Dan answered “yes” for her.

  “GO!” he yelled, with another hard blow to the whistle.

  Sakura kicked her legs about before running at Kei, who was too tensed to move. They fell to the ground, both kicking and screaming. Kei would have been lying if she said Sakura’s pounce didn’t hurt, but now she struggled to defend herself. This wasn’t play fighting at all. Sakura was hitting her for real, even if her slaps were meant to be feeble.

  “Hit me,” Sakura ordered, her teeth clenched for extra ferocity. She watched Kei squeal and hide behind her hands. She rolled her eyes and sighed, pulling Kei’s hands to her face, pretending to be attacked. She lolled her head from side to side, yelling “ouch, ouch” to make the charade look real.

  Dan watched with his mouth hanging open, disgusted by the level of incompetency shown by these students.

  “STOP!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. As expected, the girls were greeted by a look of utter disdain. “That is not the Saikyo way. You are fighting like cats and dogs and yelling in appalling fashion. I will need to teach you EVERYTHING,” Dan yelled. “AGAIN!” he yelled once more, stretching the end of the word with an accent.

  Sakura couldn’t believe she was actually missing Kei and Dan. Dan was an incompetent teacher, but at least she had had some fun teasing him, and Kei was a good companion, as much as she hated to admit it. Hobbling out of the bathroom, she ruffled the towel over her short wet hair. As she was fully dressed, she had expected Ken and Ryu to be in her living room, but the room was still vacant. Sakura glanced at the extravagant bouquet of flowers Ken had bought her upon his arrival. It easily filled up one corner of the room. Rain splattered the window, fogging up the corners of the glass. She was just able to hear them talk from the bedroom over the loud drumming of the rain.

  “If it wasn’t for that minor oversight, I would have been there all day.”

  “I highly doubt that, dude. You were ready to throw in the towel the moment the dish landed on your lap.”

  Curious to hear more of the disjointed conversation, Sakura shuffled to the bedroom and pressed her ears against the shut door.

  “Whaaaat? I bailed you out, man.”

  “I didn’t ask you to come, Ken, did I?”

  “Heh, when do you ever ask for help? That dude was a handful.”

  “I could have taken him on. You know that.”

  “What? The Ultimate Champion of America? You do realize, Ryu, that we have fifty states?”

  “What’s your point?”

  “He was the champion, of all fifty states. Even I’d be a fool to challenge him.”

  Pulling a long face, Sakura shrugged, knocking on the door of her bedroom to let Ryu and Ken know that she had finished showering. It had been a while since she left the apartment, obeying Ryu’s strict instructions to rest until her leg was healed. She was excited to finally get to sightsee around Los Angeles, even in rainy weather. Throwing the towel to one side, she re-examined her outfit: skinny black cardigan, red tartan skirt, stripy knee-length socks. She was ready to go.

  Ken sat on Sakura’s small bed with his shoe tucked in his hand. He had tried his best to scrub away the white scuff from the black patent leather but his efforts only frustrated him.

  “I knew I should have had my usual polish and dry at the local cleaners,” he complained quietly. The impulsive drive to Los Angeles had left him with no time to worry about such frivolous things.

  Ryu had his own problems to deal with. “Nope, can’t do it,” he grumbled, unraveling the black silk back into his hand. The martial arts belt and headband he usually wore required the tying of simple double knots that took no concentration. This bow-tie from Ken, on the other hand, was annoyingly complicated.

  “I feel like my fingers keep getting in a knot.” He demonstrated, weaving the material through the loop, only for it to untie again. Dressing like this seemed over the top for their next plan.

  “Tsk tsk. I hear talk of failure over there,” Ken joked.

  “I must have spent thirty minutes trying to tie this bow,” Ryu said with gritting teeth. “By now, my mind would have calculated the intricacy of the technique as muscle memory before perfecting it.”

  “You’re comparing this to martial arts? Jeez, get a grip.”

  Ryu shrugged his shoulder. A sense of despair overshadowed him.

  Ken sensed Ryu’s mood, and went on. “As a great man once used to say, master one technique, and the rest will follow.”

  “Who used to say that?” Ryu asked, cocking his eyebrow as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

  “You,” Ken laughed, winking at him, “...at the age of fifteen. Look, you’re doing this all wrong.” Grabbing the bow-tie off him, Ken wrapped the fabric around his friend’s neck. “Remember the last time I taught you how to do this?” he spoke softly, slowly demonstrating how the loops overlap. “You were making us all late for Mel’s christening photo.”

  “You threw the tux at me on short notice,” Ryu argued playfully.

  Ken chuckled. “You haven’t worn a suit since then, have you?”

  “Uhh, not really.”

  “Oh boy. I wish you could surprise me one day by telling me you had your own party to go to.”

  “I’m clearly not the partying type,” Ryu laughed.

  “Clearly,” Ken agreed, rolling his eyes. “You do know that godfathers are meant to grace their godchild with a few visits once in awhile.”

  Ryu pursed his lips, deliberately playing with a cuff of his white shirt. “These traditions are still a bit foreign to me,” he mumbled, feeling Ken’s eyes on him.

  “And don’t forget I was the one who showed you that restaurant,” Ken suddenly yelled, throwing his voice over the door.

  “Why are you trying to steal my favorite places?” Ryu challenged in the same tone.

  “It only became your favorite after I took you there in the first place.”

  “Wait, what are we talking about again?” Ryu’s tone was strained and perplexed.

  “Dude, this is ridiculous. You’ll have to explain to Sakura as soon as she sees you in this anyway,” Ken pointed at the tuxedo Ryu was wearing.

  “She’s not ready to know,” he snapped, uncomfortable about the plan altogether. “Her state of mind is still fragile. The mere mention of Tawnya will set her off.”

  “But she’s gonna hate you for lying to her. Just tell her the meeting is my idea. She doesn’t need to know about Fei Long’s message to us at all.”

  Ryu pursed his lips again, sliding his hand against the smooth feel of the breast pocket. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said, looking down at himself in Ken’s dress wear. The shoes were a little too big, and he already felt hot around the collar.

  “So?” Ryu said, presenting himself for Ken’s comments.

  “For a man who doesn’t care about his appearance,” he smirked, “verrry nice. But you might wanna lose the bandana,” he said, pointing at the red headband.

  “Ryu Sensei,” Sakura grumbled loudly, thudding harshly at the door.

  “Maybe we should go join her,” Ryu said, noting her sounds of frustration.

  “What the hell are you guys doing in there? You’re freakin’ me out,” she yelled.

  “Yeah,” Ken agreed, cocking his eyebrow.

  “Ken, wait,” he said glumly, feeling like shark bait. “There must be another way I can find out about her without doing this.”

  Ken ignored him. “Chill out. You’ve got plenty of time to practice. By being in her own environment, you’ll have the best chance of uncovering her true intentions. You know that better than anyone.”

  Ryu sighed. “This is much more your way of doing things than mine,” he said, pointing at himself with
abhorrence. Ken smiled, walking out of the room to calm their host.

  When entering the living room, Ryu felt almost saddened to see Sakura frown, but her expression quickly changed when she noticed how he was dressed. Her mouth fell open. It was a sight she thought she would never see - Gucci suit, cute bow-tie, tidied hair and freshly shined shoes. She felt completely underdressed now.

  Ken pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.

  “Ryu Sensei? Hope you didn’t go to all that effort just for my amusement,” she said, smiling in admiration and excitement.

  “I knew this wasn’t a good idea,” Ryu said, stiffening his shoulders as if moving would cause pain.

  “I was only kidding,” she cut in, hoping that she didn’t upset him. “You look great. No, awesome.”

  “Thanks,” Ryu mustered a smile.

  “So, where’re you guys taking me looking like that?” Sakura beamed, unable to take her eyes off Ryu. Quickly he averted his gaze to the ground.

  “Okay,” Sakura said, pouting. “What’s really going on here?”

  “It’s nothing,” Ryu said dropping his head.

  She frowned. “I totally know when you’re lying, and you’re lying right now.”

  Ken and Ryu both looked at Sakura with the same serious expression. This was the reason why she had developed a temper in the first place. Ryu was too big-brotherly sometimes, and it annoyed her.

  “You got a hot date you’re not telling me about, Ryu Sensei? ‘Cause if you weren’t so old, I’d definitely wouldn’t say no,” she joked, then dropped her smile when she saw Ken’s cheeks lifting in amusement.

  “You’re his hot date,” Ken said casually, taking a seat on the semi-broken sofa. Sakura laughed abruptly but Ryu’s frigid movements forced her to quiet down.

  She looked at them quizzically, re-tying the white headband around her forehead to stall time. “I don’t understand,” she muttered before the neighbor’s loud rhythmless drumming started up again.

  “Apparently, I need to be taught the art of conversation,” Ryu said as normally as he could without looking at anyone.

  “The art of what?” Sakura said, perplexed.

  “Don’t be mad, kiddo,” Ken cut in, shaking his head, “but we need to prepare Ryu to meet Tawnya Blaze in person.”

  *****

  Chapter 22:

  THE MEETING