Street Fighter: Dream Never Ends

by Talyn Rahman-Figueroa

  Her fingers clawed rigidly in front of her. She had not known that the muscles in her hands could ache so much. No matter how sore her feet were and how her arms had tired, Sakura knew she must continue this sequence until she was told otherwise.

  From the moment Ryu dragged her into Ken’s training dojo, she knew this was exactly where she felt most at home, to fight, and train to fight, but Ryu’s strange behavior was beginning to bother her. Other than to tell her to pack her bags for their training in San Francisco, he had hardly spoken to her. That was precisely a week ago. Ryu looked frazzled. The area under his eyes was darkened, evidently by terrible lack of sleep. She knew his mind was still with Tawnya Blaze.

  Sakura frowned as she thought of what might have happened between them. It angered her that Ryu refused to speak to anyone except Ken. She felt so shut out of his life. Perhaps she was nothing more than just a student to him after all...so much for being best friends.

  “Sakura, concentrate! You’re wilting,” Ryu said firmly, staring at her with cold eyes. “Tighten your fist and hold your head upright. This stance must be mastered. It takes months of practice to develop. Let the energy flow into your arms. Now try again but this time, distribute your weight equally on both legs.”

  Once again, Sakura tried to position herself with respect to Ryu’s orders. He sat watching her from the sidelines. Determined to get at least one movement correct, she placed both hands on her waist before stepping forward with open palms. She had been practicing to form a Hadou-ken for half an hour now. Except she wasn’t allowed to form a fireball until her form was consistently perfect. At least she looked cool wearing Ryu’s karate top, she thought, even if it was thrown over her gym shorts and shirt.

  She shook her head trying to concentrate on Ryu’s words. If her mind didn’t stray so often, his commands wouldn’t be so difficult to follow.

  “Now stay in that position. I’ll count you down and I want you to put all your energy forward. Imagine the power of the Hadou pushing further than the length of the dojo itself.”

  Sakura focused her gaze on the tiny candle at the other side of the room, thinking on how Ryu could extinguish its light with nothing but empty air. Pushing energy forward to the other side of the room wasn’t impossible, but no matter how many times she tried, Sakura couldn’t blow out the candle, not even with her mouth.

  “Remember,” Ryu instructed, “...invisible ki is the power, the energy source to the Hadou. Once perfected, you will be able to manipulate this ki to control your fireball. In this way, your fireball will be able to gain more reach. Now, your aim is to push the flow of the energy to the furthest point of this room. Your stance is wilting again. Get ready.”

  She quickly straightened up, feeling agony in her muscles. To conjure this invisible ki was proving difficult, but she told herself to stay focused. She had expected exactly this kind of hardship as Ryu’s student, but she had simply forgotten how hard he trained her.

  Mind over body, Sakura reminded herself, dreaming of a time when she would finally be holding up her very first tournament cup, with Ryu smiling proudly by her side.

  “I can do this,” she said with grim determination.

  “Concentrate,” Ryu said sternly, gripping onto his karate pants. “Get ready.”

  “I’m already ready, Ryu Sensei.”

  “Stop talking. Now focus.”

  Ken and Sean watched quietly from the other side of the dojo. Ken had wanted to coach Sean with Sakura and Ryu, but Ryu was very vocal about training her alone and without distractions. He had known Ryu’s meeting with Tawnya wouldn’t go smoothly, but he hadn’t expected to see him physically beaten. It was strange to hear about the brief encounter with the gang, and even stranger that Ryu lacked emotion when speaking about his experience. He had never known his friend to stop training. Diverting his energy by equipping Sakura with the best martial arts defense was a way to distract himself.

  While Ken housed his guests for the ‘special’ training, he was also insistent to train, hard. The fight may not have ended up as the focal point of his life, but martial arts had given him direction, discipline, a role model, and an eternal friend. He wasn’t going to let Ryu take the whole burden of finishing off Akuma. It was his duty too and he was damned if Ryu was going to take all the glory.

  “Pssst, Ken,” Sean hissed behind his fighting mitts. “Why don’t we just train with them? It’s your dojo and there’s plenty of room. Why are you letting Ryu bully you?”

  Ken continued to watch Ryu instruct Sakura with great intensity. The look in Ryu’s eyes was something Ken had never seen before. He knew Ryu wasn’t going to stop until he was satisfied with Sakura’s progress. She had become the center of his attention, even more so than preparing for his fight with Akuma.

  Poor kid, Ken thought somberly, Sakura had no idea what Ryu was going to put her through, but then again, his methods were admirable. Sean was too much like Ken in his younger years, brash, arrogant and out of control. Watching Ryu’s discipline over Sakura made him feel like a failure as a teacher. After all these years, Sean still hadn’t picked up the Hadou-ken and was too impatient to recycle one technique for practice.

  Ken was unsure of why he felt so jealous of Ryu right now. Sean had never been his main project, like Sakura was to Ryu; he was merely a distraction from his mundane routine, a reminder of his bygone street fighting life.

  “Out in the yard now, punk,” Ken snarled, pulling Sean roughly up by his arm until he was standing tall.

  “What? Really?” Sean spluttered, confused by Ken’s abrupt action.

  “Don’t challenge me. Now get the hell out.”

  Before leaving the dojo, Ken glanced over at Ryu and Sakura continuing to practice. It wasn’t Sean’s inability to pick up new skills that had him irritated, but his sense of failure over his son Mel’s lack of development. Since the moment Ryu arrived in San Francisco, Sakura had begun her training, but it had been months since Ken paid any attention to his own son in the same way. Perhaps Eliza was right to notice the change Mel was going through in Ken’s absence. Mel was barely engaged in training, and he didn’t really care for it---not nearly as fervently as Ken once did. Watching Sakura and Ryu practice ignited a new drive in Ken.

  Sean shuffled his foot in the grass, feeling aggravated that Ken paid him so little direct attention. For once, he was actually serious about developing his skills. Ryu’s presence was enough to make him want to train so that one day, he could defeat him and finally earn Ken’s respect.

  “Yo, we gonna spar or what?” Sean failed to hide the frustration in his voice.

  “Not until Mel comes down,” Ken answered him firmly, walking toward the main building of his house.

  “But Mel ain’t trained with us for months,” Sean responded, dumbfounded.

  “Exactly.”

  Ken had no idea why Mel’s training spirit had withered, and felt inclined to blame his wife because he knew how much she despised having their only child involved with fighting.

  “He can’t continue to ignore me forever,” Ken mumbled, looking around his vast home. It was about time Mel engaged in the martial arts discipline and showed him some respect.

  “MELVIN, I NEED YOU TO GET DOWN HERE NOW!”

  He vowed that his son would train into the Shotokan arts as a small token from father to son. Even if he didn’t need Mel to become the next American Champion, it was enough to see him have a healthy interest in it.

  “MEL, I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME. HURRY UP!” he yelled, looking up at the highest floor of his white mansion.

  Bored, Sean picked up a basketball nearby and bounced it hard against the ground. His teacher clearly had other concerns than him.

  “MELVIN, DON’T MAKE ME GO UP THERE.”

  “Dad, I’m right here,” Mel cried, approaching the house from the front yard on his bicycle. By the looks of his sweaty blushing cheeks, he had just got home. “I was out with Eric. I did tell Mom. What’s up?”
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  “Go and get changed into your gi. You’re training,” Ken said all too casually, unbothered that Sean was walking back into the dojo where Ryu and Sakura were audibly training. Mel looked at his father, consumed, as he panted to catch his breath.

  “What? Now? I only came home to grab my other bike. I’m gonna test out the new wheels I bought for them. It’s gonna be so sweet riding down that hill with those,” Mel grinned excitedly, but his face dropped at Ken’s angry look.

  “You’re training. Now. You can ride that bicycle anytime.”

  “But, I’ve spent so long trying to--”

  “Don’t argue with me, Melvin. You’ve neglected the arts for too long. I’m free today so take advantage of it.”

  Mel dipped his head low, suppressing the urge to argue back.

  “Just go in and watch Sakura train. It’s magic,” Ken tried to encourage his son.

  Mel hesitated. “But my friend is waiting for me.”

  “Just do as I tell you for once,” Ken cried, frustrated that his son was acting like a typical stubborn teenager.

  Mel looked at his father with resentment. He hated when he was forced to do something he had little interest in. Martial arts was cool in the movies, but practicing it in real life was a chore. He hated waking up feeling sore in the morning, and he usually despised practicing a kata, knowing that he could never use it.

  Watching Mel chew on his knuckle anxiously, Ken let out a big sigh. “Listen, buddy,” he said with a softer tone. “Think of this as your chance to show Uncle Ryu how much you’ve matured. It’ll be like old times, having a little tackle with your old man.”

  “I dunno, Dad,” Mel grunted, swinging his rucksack over his shoulders.

  “Be a pal and get ready for practice, please?”

  “Jeez, Ken, the kid said no. Just let him be,” Eliza shouted into the courtyard. Then she pushed Mel by the shoulders as a sign for him to get indoors. “Don’t force him to do something he obviously doesn’t wanna do.”

  She pointed at her husband threateningly. “We don’t all have the same passions as you, okay? If you want to train and fight, then go join Ryu in there.”

  Eliza’s sudden defensiveness took Ken aback. He had been sure Mel was ready to cave in to his request without his mother’s fret.

  “Stop treating him like a child, Eliza,” Ken said as calmly as possible, getting ready to walk back into the dojo as she had suggested. “I have a responsibility to teach my son self-protection. Don’t get in the way of that.”

  “That isn’t what I would call being responsible, Ken,” she fired back, suppressing her disappointment through clenched teeth. “Go and help your kid study once in a while, or ride with him, something normal. You hardly see him but when you do, you just want him to train? Don’t you see what you’re doing to the kid, Ken?”

  “Stop calling him a kid, Liz!”

  “Umm, Mom, I guess I can train,” Mel said somewhat feebly, unable to understand why his parents were arguing. “I mean, Dad isn’t always home so it’ll be--”

  “Mel, I told you to get inside,” Eliza scolded without taking her eyes off her husband. “And get washed up.”

  “Since when have you become so controlling, Liz?” Ken said resentfully. He didn’t flinch at Eliza’s facial reaction. “I want to spend some time with my son. You always rave on about how I don’t do enough of that, and now you tell him to go away? Do you hear yourself sometimes? Mel, get your stuff. Let’s go on a trip, father and son.”

  “Whoa whoa,” Eliza said, taking a step closer to her husband. “A trip? So, will that include me by any chance?”

  Ken paused for a moment, wanting to laugh, but he stopped himself. The idea of Eliza finally participating in their activities was too hard to comprehend. He had tried so many times to get Eliza out of the house, to spend some quality time, but she was always too quick to escape to her sister’s place for support. It was almost like she didn’t want to burden her time with him, and it seemed certain that she no longer wanted Mel to be in his presence. Somewhere along in their marriage, Ken figured he must have hurt her without knowing.

  “Seriously, all I want to do right now is make Mel understand the importance of his training, or at least convince you that it’s for his own safety.”

  Eliza sighed exaggeratedly at Ken’s comment.

  “Okay, scrap the trip, I was kidding,” Ken said, as he muffled a chuckle. “Just let me spend some time with him, okay? And come join me on the trip to Ohio in two weeks instead. Husband and wife. Please?” He offered his hand to Eliza in a gesture of solidarity.

  Years of mental training had taught him to be patient with his wife’s strange behavior, and to accept her criticisms and insults. It was easier to let her win than fight her, a philosophy he didn’t take with him into a physical brawl, but Eliza was no match.

  Eliza stammered, but before she could answer, a loud crash distracted her train of thought.

  “Oh, Ryu Sensei, shit...I’m sooooooooo sorry.”

  “SAKURA! I told you to hold it, not release it.”

  “Oh, shoot, shoot, shoot.”

  “You said you could handle it.”

  “I thought I could, Sensei.”

  “Now you’ll get us both in trouble.”

  The burning planks of wood crashed against the ground one by one, leaving a gaping hole in Ken’s dojo. Ken and Eliza approached the building with caution as the small fire died down.

  “Ken, I’m so so sorry,” Sakura pleaded, peeking at him through the charred hole in the wall she had made with the Hadou-ken.

  Ryu shrugged his shoulder empathetically. She had been told repeatedly to restrain herself from releasing the fireball. Apparently strengthening her level of control was yet to be mastered. Now the efforts of her labor had left a mark on Ken’s dojo, with half the wall no longer there, bringing in an uncomfortable draft.

  “Ryu Sensei, I promise not to do that again. I’ll restrain myself and work harder,” Sakura said adamantly. She took a deep bow, desperate to be the good student again.

  Eliza gasped, not sure what to say, but she couldn’t help but feel relieved that the dojo was only partly destroyed by the hands of an amateur.

  “Heh, no biggy,” Ken said, trying to casually usher his guests out of the wreckage with a wave. “I’ll just have to build a bigger and better dojo.”

  *****

  Chapter 25:

  MEDIA STUNT