Description: Reaping the remnants left in the wake of Shadaloo's collapse in Thailand, Rugal extends an offer to the opportunistic Kurow Kirishima.
A hill overlooking the capital of Thailand, Bangkok. The large city had served as a hub of sorts for the Shadaloo operations. Thus it came as no surprise that it became the primary target of the Thailand resistance once all of the pieces fell into place. The assault on the prison just days before was the first massive loss on the part of Vega's regime. And in the confusion that followed, the rest of his ambitions began to crumble around him.
The people were united against him, and leading their ranks were some of the most powerful individuals on earth. The outcome was inevitable. The time now is late afternoon with the multi-hued horizon of evening encroaching in the sky. The city below the hill is in flames - thick pillars of fire rising up from bombed out structures. Voices can be heard. Voices of men fighting, of men dying, paying the ultimate price for whatever their cause may be. Some fight for greed or blind, zealous devotion, while others fight for their homes, their families, their freedom.
And there, ready to reap whatever might come in the aftermath of the collapse of such a powerful empire is Rugal Bernstein. His left hand is in his pants pocket while his right hand folds and unfolds the end of the black scarf hanging open around his neck while a stiff breeze ruffles his hair and suit coat. From high on this hill he has been able to observe the ebb and flow of the battle throughout the day. Like a vulture eager to prey upon the remnants of Vega's organization, Rugal waits, a malicious grin on his face. People on both sides of the fight have fallen to weapons provided by "R" and the twisted irony of that has not been lost on him. It's always nice to see the fruits of treachery pay off so well.
At his feet are the broken, blooy bodies of several Shadaloo soldiers. A company of men who had foolishly attempted to ambush Rugal at some point during the afternoon. No one will ever get to hear their story. Their legacy ended here; just another nine souls lost to the War in Thailand.
What little is left of Shadaloo in Bangkok is ill-prepared, lacking in resolve, and really little more than rabble at this point; they've lost their advantage, and as such lost their will to fight. It's no wonder that Rugal tore through these nine men -- there's little left for them here. All they are to Lord Vega's empire, at this point, is detritus -- the ruins of what could have been. Their deaths will likely go completely unremarked upon even in Shadaloo.
Their disappearance /has/ been noticed, however, by at least one member of the cracking monolith that feeds Vega's lust for power. Perhaps it is fortuitous for Bernstein that it is not the twisted Ken that comes to him, not Vega himself, not a complement of more elite men... but Kurow Kirishima, a young man who has always stayed with Shadaloo for one reason only: accrue power. Even the rumors of Vega's attempts at immortality, so similar to the unfinished technique Mugen Imawano taught him before meeting his unfortunate end, are not enough to keep Kurow's loyalty any longer. It's time, he realizes, to seek power somewhere else.
The youth moves toward the men's last reported position slowly, at first, unsure what to expect; after all, he could be walking into something as dangerous as Ryu or as innocuous as another friend of the Taiyo students -- one never knows anymore, in Thailand. When he gets his first glimpse of the imposing man standing over the fallen, however, his guard drops; Rugal is -- if not /trustworthy/ -- at least someone he may not have to strike. He continues to move closer, but his efforts to mask his presence are all but forgotten. He wants Bernstein to know he's here.
Given Rugal's thirst for combat, he may very well have welcomed an attack by Ken - though clearly such an encounter would likely leave him far less well composed as he is at the moment. He doesn't worry about Vega coming to fight him here. With his empire on the verge of collapse, no doubt the dictator would have better things to do than try to pay Bernstein back for "R"'s backstabbing. And surely he won't allow himself to be felled here by the many who would see him dead. No... that fight is still yet to come. Of that Rugal is certain. If not tomorrow, then next week. If not next week, then another month, or another year. That fight will come. And he will be ready when it does.
"It won't be long now," Rugal speaks up as Kurow approaches from behind. Trying to hide his presence from this man would be a challenge for Kurow even when putting the best of his training into it. Rugal doesn't glance over his shoulder; instead opting to fixate on the city below. Another explosion goes off in the distance and a structure falls. It will take years to rebuild when this conflict is over. But at least the people of Thailand will have their capital back. "Heh," Bernstein muses with a scoff. "It's only a matter of time. Lord Vega never was one for subtlety. He's made himself the target of far too many powers." he contemplates with a shake of his head.
"But his methods weren't all bad." the crimelord adds, as if willing to engage in a moment of post-fight analysis with the boy who's loyalty for Shadaloo may be waning. "The best part of his plan, however, was forcing friend to fight friend, ally verses ally, student against student... Though... That wasn't entirely his doing, now was it?" Only then does he turn around, his hand still in his pocket, and regards Kurow directly.
"But even there he failed. His tactics, his Psycho Drives... they took too much from those he forced to his side. Fighting a once-friend who now behaves like a catatonic zombie just doesn't create as much conflicting anguish as facing a friend who seems very much cognizant, yet has undergone a powerful change of perspective... Wouldn't you agree?"
Kirishima doesn't take long to move toward Rugal, once he knows he's been sensed -- without even being seen, someone like himself... that's quite a feat. Kurow has a high opinion of himself and his abilities, as most do in this world -- and when he knows he's beaten in his own arena, he has to stop and pay his respects. "I knew it was going to fall apart from the start. Vega... you're exactly right. He doesn't know subtlety. He wants to be the strongest -- he has such a desire to prove his power that he lets it get in the way of accruing more."
Kurow steps up to Rugal's side, staring out over the city, letting his vision wander across as much of it as those grey eyes can take in. As that building falls -- a building he knows well, for he'd used it to resupply at least twice -- he starts to reflect on just how much Shadaloo has lost in recent times. Not two months ago it was one of the most powerful organizations in the world. What Vega didn't personally need to handle was crushed under the fists of Sagat or the kicks and throws of the Killer Bee. They had practically limitless strength -- a half-dozen of the world's strongest, men who could stare down armies and hold their ground, led their number, and hundreds more were at their command.
And yet... in such a short time, that was all dashed away.
Rumors were circulating about Cammy being crushed under Lord Vega's ambition. Mike Bison, once content simply to jab and hook Shadaloo's enemies into oblivion, left in a huff. There was no mistaking the face of Sagat amid the hundreds of enemies arrayed against Shadaloo even in those first, early days of the war. All that remained of the once-proud organization, if every rumor was true and every betrayal could be taken at face value, were some particularly brutal thugs, men and women whose minds were destroyed, Lord Vega... and an ambitious young man who had once sold his entire power base out to Shadaloo, in the hopes of accruing more.
There is little left here for Kurow Kirishima, and he knows it. He's not stupid -- the only ship he intends to sink with is his own, and even that's not for certain. He looks up toward Rugal, hearing the man praise his methods... and, at first, simply nods. It takes him a few moments to muster up the courage to speak -- willful though he is, Kurow knows when he's in the presence of someone who has him more than beaten. "Wholeheartedly," Kurow says, with a nod. "I am... proud of some of the work I've done, here. I look at Shoma and Sakura, and look at how their friends' once-steady resolve now ebbs and flows, and I have to smile." He does just that, saying, "I wouldn't have had some of the opportunities I've had here if not for 'Lord' Vega... but then, I took them a step farther than he could ever have hoped. It's a pity so much of it is wasted here, now that the world has turned its eyes to Shadaloo."
"Wasted, but not lost," Rugal replies with a somewhat correcting tone, turning once again to look over the city. He finally releases the end of his black scarf and folds his right arm behind his back. "While Vega will reap only defeat here, that doesn't mean you have to as well, Kurow Kirishima."
A rallying cry is heard off to the distant east as another wave of the Thailand resistance pours into the narrow streets of Bangkok and engages a small platoon of Shadaloo's men and gun fire is exchanged. "You can take your trophies and leave before it becomes too late. The longer you linger here, the greater the risk of sharing Vega's demise." Then comes another question. "Have you given thought as to what you might do next? Many have seen your face as an ally to Shadaloo. It would be impossible to silence them all now. While I do not doubt you could pull the right strings to return to Justice High, do you think you could really do that? You would need to take on a new identity, a new life, a new name. You would have to conceal your true power, your true potential, just to 'enjoy' a life of mundanity."
The question and commentary is allowed to hang in the hot, humid air for a moment. "Or you could come work for me." The offer is simplistic, succinct. No bargaining, no litany of how "R" could be the right fit for the young man. No attempt to flatter him further as if he expects the invitation itself to be all the flattery that would be needed.
In the distance a few helicopters take off from the southern tip of the city and retreat into the horizon. Perhaps mercenaries who had decided that they weren't getting paid well enough to allow their bones to pave the streets of Bangkok.
The idea of being unable to return to Justice High is a somewhat curious one to Kurow; while he /has/ been 'found out,' and no doubt will find it somewhat difficult to reintegrate with the schools of Southtown, he harbors no doubts that he /will/ be able to return. It was never as though Hyo Imawano was barred from returning, after all, and his attempt was perhaps even more egregious than Kurow's. Besides -- there's a great degree of control over the future that comes from having an ear to the ground in the school system.
However, on the other hand Kurow does need to form new ties now that it looks as though Shadaloo is so hobbled. And -- while he can't be sure -- he doesn't /think/ that the "R" organization has much experience, or even contact, with the schools of Southtown that he knows so well. And Rugal, if what little information Shadaloo has on him is accurate, does seem to have a much stronger appreciation for subtlety coupled with a solid handle on when to discard pretense.
The invitation is enough to pique Kurow's interest, certainly. "... I have too much invested in the schools to fully leave them," Kirishima admits. He doesn't give up on a mission that he still sees as viable. He can't. "I can't say the same, however, of Shadaloo. There is little left for me here." Considering what he's just said, he finishes, "I think this could be an excellent partnership, Mr. Bernstein."
Now that business is out of the way, though, there's still something nagging at him. This man who clearly has the ability to surpass Vega, by the combination of his wits and power if not by power alone... just how similar /is/ he to the Imawano family's former pet assassin? It is this that prompts Kurow, spurred by some half-remembered words from Rugal and a likewise spotty memory of a dozen studied fights, asks, "...with that concluded, if I may ask, tell me about your family."
There is a deep chuckle at the mention of the schools. Ah, yes, the Southtown Schools. A more deeply woven network of subterfuge among youth cannot possibly be found elsewhere in the world. Almost nothing is as it seems at any one of the supposed educational institutions. If anything, the are the training ground for the future tyrants, crimelords, cartels, and mercenaries of the world.
"Good," Bernstein states when Kurow mentions not being able to leave the schools completely. "Your ties there will be beneficial to us both in the days ahead." He is silent with regards to Shadaloo. The both of them can clearly see where things are headed with that empire. It has made its mark in the world, scratched and clawed out its place in the history books. But beyond that...?
Partnership, hm? For now, that suits Rugal's needs perfectly which is why he merely nods, silently concluding the arrangement in that gesture. Things will not be the same as it was with Vega. Bernstein seems to seek a different type of relationship with those who work for him. Building them up, even if via brutality, honing them into the perfect tools to further his own needs. Rather than blunting them, smothering them, crushing them as Vega might.
There is a small measure of surprise in Rugal's expression at Kurow's question. And he is a man who is rarely surprised. "Hmn," he replies, silent for a long moment. So very few even know he has a family. Twin children; the last gift his wife would live to give. "You have no doubt seen my son, Adelheid Bernstein." A name comprised of two German words for 'Noble' and 'Kind'. The name of a prince born to a monarch, poised to inherit all Rugal had someday. As a fighter, he had appeared in some Neo League matches as well as other public venues. "He is your age." The hand behind Rugal's back comes forward as he gazes over the city, resuming that incessant folding and unfolding of the end of his scarf once more.
"And Rain, my daughter. Like her mother, she has never had a future as a fighter. Her path to power lies elsewhere..." There is a quiet sigh, the groan of a father burdoned with children who just don't seem to be as easy to mold as he would like. Possessing so much power, yet being defied by his own progeny...
Curious -- a son who stands to inherit everything if he only reaches out and grasps it, and a daughter who is hardly the greatest of fighters but who could, perhaps, seek something more with her own set of skills. It hits close to home for Kurow, though he'd never admit to it, especially not to a man like Rugal. The same sets of patterns seem to repeat the world over, something which the young man is only beginning to understand -- and something which he has to be sure to remember, if he's to survive in the world that he's finally stepped so completely into.
"I see. I remembered your son, but was unaware of his sister... they sound like they would make quite the pair, with a common purpose." He isn't sure if they have one or not, of course; all he knows of Adelheid is that he's inherited much of his father's fighting style, and -- of course -- bears the name Bernstein. There's not a lot one can learn simply from studying dozens upon dozens of fights as compulsively as Kirishima does. That groan does not go unnoticed, however, and Kurow decides it might be best to let the topic slide away for a little while. "I was simply curious."
He watches the horrible drama that surrounds what's left of Bangkok unfold. One particularly adept member of the resistance cleanly moves through a small squad of Shadaloo men, barely close enough to be seen; a tank shell collides with the wall of a building, sending much of the structure crumbling. This vantage point, strewn with the bodies of dead Shadaloo soldiers, does a fine job of putting things in perspective.
"I'm glad to hear our assets will complement each other," Kurow says, moving back to the topic of business. "Redundancy is a fine thing in small doses, especially when it can feed off itself... but there /is/ such a thing as too much."
Other than in passing reference to a mother to compare Rain to, no other mention is made of the woman that would have born Rugal his children. It's just as well the topic shifted, however, as the silence that hung in the air after that sigh would have persisted indefinitely. Of his family, Rugal had no more to say for now. In truth, the pattern Kurow notices spans generations and in the quiet moments that linger between the two would-be cohorts, Rugal's mind seems elsewhere, lost thinking about another bygone partnership of years past.
"I know your purpose." He finally states. "And in time, you will come to know mine. And where our ambitions overlap, we will have a powerful, common purpose as well." His left hand comes out of his pants pocket at last as Rugal turns to face Kurow directly. His right hand, with the scarf idly folded around his palm, reaches out to take hold of Kurow's wrist forcefully. Into the boy's palm is forced a black business card that had been palmed in his left hand perhaps all along. As if he had been waiting for Kurow on this hill all afternoon.
Only after forcing the card into his hand does Rugal release his hold, both of his hands returning to his pockets now. "A number where text messages may be left." There will be no point in calling it directly. No living voice would ever be heard on the other end. "When the collapse is over... when /you/ have determined your time is best spent elsewhere... contact me and we will meet again." There is a certain tone with the way Rugal address Kurow. As if he truly believes that the young man is in complete control of his destiny going forward. As if the real power in Thailand is Kurow Kirishima rather than Lord Vega.
Those quiet moments are not spent on the past, in Kurow Kirishima's mind, but the future -- it is the benefit of youth to be sure that there's more ahead than behind, after all, and if Kirishima learns more about the value of patience and planning than he already has, learns how to turn futile grasping at power into a firm, relentless grip, his future is bright indeed.
Specifially, his mind lingers on one loose end, one that the leader of "R" might likely know quite well from the youth's recent behavior, where he's been seen, and who with... and specifically, his mind lingers on how to seize it. Lord Vega's hold is strong, but it had seemed strong on Thailand, too... all things, Kurow realizes now more than ever, crumble. The best thing to do is to simply wait for that moment, and as that monolithic vision begins to crumble, snatch anything of value that falls. ... in this realization, perhaps Kurow and Rugal become just the slightest bit more the same.
Rugal Bernstein's patience is often rewarded, and this time is no different. On some level, Kurow can sense that the older man has been waiting, and this is a fact that plays to Rugal's advantage. Coupled with the claim of a moderate amount of common purpose, it makes him feel like he's truly Rugal's peer, and that is quite the feeling. If Kurow was interested before, now he's eating out of Bernstein's hand -- practically literally, now.
The youth takes the card, withdrawing his hand from that firm grip, and give sit one quick examination. He learns everything he needs to know from that one glance, and elects to put the card in his own pocket. The phone number joins his flute and his claws, in more respects than one -- moreso than simply being things in his pocket, they're the tools he has to construct his future. "Thank you," he says, with a smile. "When I've taken all from this that I can, you will know, and, yes, we will meet." He turns, taking a few steps away, only stopping once to look back and finish: "You're an interesting man, Rugal Bernstein. This was quite an... educational meeting," before continuing back toward Bangkok. It's time to see just how much truly is salvageable, and how much is going to be swept away by the flood of 'good men' not content to do nothing.
The suited crimelord turns to watch Kurow as he begins to leave, as if the battle waged below no longer interests him. That unique pair of eyes of Bernstein's focus on the young man now. "The first of many to come," comes the simple reply, continuing to dangle the promise of there being more... as long as Kurow is willing to keep following the path to claim it.
And with that, with his hands still in his pockets, Rugal begins to descend the hill in the opposite direction. There will be more scavanging to do among the wreckage of a fallen empire, but for now he leaves satisfied that he's already made the best catch to be had here now.
Over the city, from one corner to the opposite, spreads a cheer of victory. Word of Vega's retreat from before the might of a few of the most powerful fighters has brought a rallying cry of hope, triumph, and of brighter days ahead to the desperate Thailand resistance. Chuckling, Rugal vanishes into the thick jungle surrounding Bangkok. From his coat pocket he casually withdraws a cellphone and flips it open, pressing a single button to make a call. "Yes. Have the men begin working on the engines. We will be moving soon. The Black Noah will be returning to the Pacific Ocean. Our work here is done."
Log created on 02:48:47 07/04/2007 by Rugal, and last modified on 14:06:52 07/04/2007.