Description: Chun-Li. The strongest woman in the world. One of the most skilled martial artists history has ever seen. But even someone like her must have a teacher. A teacher who is not...entirely pleased...with his student's progress.
Until recently, the name 'Gen' had seemingly vanished from the circuits.
But as of late, the old Assassin has seemingly returned. A sudden and unexpected contender on the SNF circuits once more, it came as a big surprise to Chun-Li to see her former sensei about once again. But it wasn't just a surprise to the woman--it was a pleasant surprise. It was good to see the old man was still hanging around.
A regular in the streets of Chinatown, Chun-Li's face is by no means an unfamiliar sight to its foreign denizens. A few stops here and there to meet and catch up with the locals later, the Tai Chi Mistress finds herself standing outside the old building nestled off the beaten path. Almost immediately a small, almost shy smile crosses her face. She pauses in her step to draw her eyes shut and inhale a deep breath through her nostrils, the scents of fresh Chinese food a pleasant scent.
It may not be 'home,' but Chinatown is a close second.
Stepping inside, Chun-Li's soft brown eyes immediately survey the interior and décor. Grinning still, she stands in waiting, comfortably clad in an Oriental blouse and jeans and looking the part of an eager customer and less like the World's Strongest Woman. She waits to be addressed, and almost immediately her request becomes clear.
Without hesitation, the woman asks for the owner of the Genhanten, Gen.
"Can you tell him a friend is here to see him? Please..?"
The waiter standing by the door looks up, from where he's just finished pointing a couple to a table in the corner. He blinks, once, almost instinctively going for his reservation book - then pauses, as he takes a second look at Chun-Li. It's hard to tell if he recognises her or not, clothed as she is, but anyone turning up at the door of /this/ establishment and claiming to be a friend of the owner, well...
All that takes just a heartbeat, though, just an instant, before the man's expression goes smooth in the manner only someone in the restaurant business is capable of. He tucks his notebook back in the pocket of his uniform, and gives a small bow, nodding his head.
"Of course, miss," he says, "please, have a seat while we send word to the owner."
The young man takes a few steps, them bows again once they're beside a booth tucked away by the corner of the restaurant's main floor. A menu finds its way before Chun-Li, and then the waiter melts back. He exchanges a whisper with a waitress as he leaves.
In Teochew, not the Cantonese dialect of most restaurant folk.
Whether the World's Strongest Woman goes recognized or not, it's the last thing on Chun-Li's mind. Instead, she tilts her head just a fraction, a distant look of bemusement on her features. Did she happen to say something wrong, she wonders. Doubtful, the woman begins to open her mouth to explain, when he simply tucks the notebook away and bows.
Relieved, Chun-Li smiles and bows politely in kind. "Thank you very much, sir," she offers in kind before she moves, taking refuge in the nearest available seat at a small table. Taking the menu in hand, the woman thoughtfully cracks it open and takes a glance over the appetizers. Barely does she catch an ear of the whispers exchanged, a glance spared to the side as she eyes the man and the waitress briefly.
The old and seemingly out-of-place dialect noted, her lips purse faintly before she drops her gaze onto the menu in hand. A moment later she lifts a hand, attempting to flag a waitress down before ordering a glass of water while she waits. Surely the old Assassin hasn't forgotten about her.
A minute passes, then two, then three, as Chun-Li sits alone in the booth. Well past the afternoon rush, and still early for dinner, interior of the restaurant is relatively quiet...filled only with the quiet murmur of conversation from the few other occupied tables and the clink of tableware.
Then the presence of a waiter appears beside Chun-Li's table, that of a small stoop-shouldered man bearing a little beverage tray. Not with the glass of water that she requested, though, but rather the white and blue shape of an old porcelain teapot, the handle made of carved wood. Wizened fingers grip this handle, as the teapot comes off the tray.
The place settings are already before Chun-Li, as is typical for restaurants of this kind. The man deftly pours into the cup beside the woman, a rich aromatic stream coming from the spout with nary a splash.
"And," asks Gen, arching one eyebrow, his tone studiously servile, "would miss be wanting anything else, hmm?"
For what seems like the longest few moments of her life, Chun-Li anxiously waits in her seat. Still eyeing the menu before her, she patiently waits amidst the quiet ambience that embraces her in the occupied restaurant. Beneath the surface of the table her sneakered feet absently fidget, the toes of her rubber soles idly kicking against the floor as her fingers gently taps against the menu.
Out of her peripherals, a relatively short figure catches her eye. Letting the menu fold back together in between her palms she rests it flat against the table's surface. Before she even regards the figure fully, the aged hand that swiftly and gracefully pours her a glass of warm, fragrant tea tells her all she need know.
It's Gen. Her old sensei.
Turning to regard the older man with a bright, almost too cheerful smile, the woman politely rises from her seat and steps aside, giving the man room before she respectfully bows. "It has been a long time, master," the woman offers, sounding almost coy before she stands upright once more. Naturally, the Chinese woman is still smiling brightly.
"And no, I am fine." Pausing, she laughs, taking her seat before she adds, a little quietly, "You didn't have to go out of your way. I appreciate the offer, though." Reaching out, she takes the warm cup into her palms, drawing it near.
"I'm not keeping you from any pressing matters, am I, sir..?"
The old man's eyes are nearly white, shaded with the milky discolouration of cataracts. But this does not seem to hinder his sight any. His gaze is still powerfully piercing. He makes eye contact with Chun-Li, holding the look for a few heartbeats.
Then he pours a dash of tea into the cup at the place setting opposite the young woman. This done, he sets the teapot on the table with a clink of porcelain on wood, and settles down into the seat across the table.
"Bah," he retorts, almost spitting the word, "the lazy fools can run the place themselves for a while. Heaven knows I pay them enough for them to /occasionally/ earn their keep."
He turns a baleful gaze to one side, eyeballing the waiters visible in the main dining hall of the restaurant - who are, indeed, putting on the kind of exaggerated show of busy-ness one is wont to do when the boss is in the room.
Gen gives a disdainful sniff.
"No," Gen says, raising a finger, "but what about -you-, hmm? Doesn't a big and famous fighter like you have something better to do than waste your time speaking to an old relic, hmm?"
There is no doubt that Gen's gaze is intimidating, the odd, near-white off-putting to likely anyone who meets his gaze. But in that brief moment, when his gaze meets the warm, friendly eyes of Chun-Li, she does not look away or falter; if anything, her smile only broadens in response as she lightly tips her head to one side.
It really has been a long time.
Absently the cup in Chun-Li's hand rolls, the smooth porcelain gliding gently across calloused palms as she observes the man. He pours a glass and seats himself, the gesture earning him a smile as she shifts her weight in the chair across from the aged fighter. The comment which follows only makes her smile broaden, a quiet laugh escaping the woman.
"I wouldn't expect you to run this place any other way," she replies.
"As for me?" Pausing in that moment, she lets her question hang as the teacup is raised to her lips, a careful, patient sip taken. Slowly the glass lowers thereafter, set back onto the table as she offers a soft shake of her head, the corners of her lips curled slightly. "No, not really. I've taken a small break to help out some friends lately. In that downtime I figured I would stop by. I heard you've been active in the fighting circuit again. Well...in the Saturday Night Fights, anyway." She pauses briefly to smile.
"It's very good to see you again, sir. For a while there I was worried, but you seem to be doing well now. How have you been?"
"I'm still breathing," Gen replies, archly, "make of that what you will."
His voice has the quality of age to it, a raspy, soft undertone. But his words are still precisely enunciated, and there's no shortage of steel there - as if he's almost /challenging/ her to make some comment about his incipient brush with mortality.
And making it equally clear, too, he cares not for platitudes.
He hooks his fingers round the cup before him, holding it lightly by the brim. He brings this up to his lips, visibly inhales the steam, then takes a sip.
Over the rim of the teacup, he eyes Chun-Li.
"But you...a 'small break', 'downtime'..."
He echoes her words, putting stress on them.
"Maybe 'taking it easy' is acceptable for a decrepit ruin like /me/, girl."
His tone makes it clear he thinks nothing of the sort.
"But you?"
Noting the old man's words carefully, the woman's response is silence--at first. Slowly over thin lips a smile blooms anew, the corners of her lips curled just so as her weight shifts. The cup lifts to her lips once more, another tiny, thoughtful sip of her tea taken before its set down before her.
"I'm glad you are," she replies with that same smile. "But I can't say I expected you NOT to be." Even if she may have been just a tiny bit worried he'd finally given up the ghost. That remains unsaid; instead, Chun-Li lightly drums the pads of her fingertips against the smooth surface of her porcelain glass.
The smile fades only a touch as those white eyes peer across the rim of his glass, a feeling of scrutiny washing over the woman's spine as she meets his gaze. Carefully and closely she listens, lips pursing lightly before a tiny apologetic smile passes over her soft face.
"Well, it was for good reason, master Gen," she explains, brown eyes dropping to her hands as they discreetly fidget. "A friend needed my help. His sister got picked up by the Syndicate's goons. She was held captive and he wanted to rescue her, but couldn't do it alone." A brief pause follows as she sucks her bottom lip inward and lightly chews in thought. Mere moments later, Chun-Li looks back up.
"So I took a break from everything to help get her back, because those are dangerous men and I couldn't let him go at it alone--which he likely would have, had I not said yes." Soft laughter follows.
"You know how I am."
Shaking her head softly, Chun-Li's features soften a touch as she regards the aged man across from her. "So that is my reason, sir."
"And that," Gen says, sardonically, "is what you call a 'small break to help out some friends', hmn?"
He speaks the words like he doesn't quite believe them, as if examining a concept heretical, alien to his point of view. He gives a shake of the head. Gen lowers his teacup, replacing it on the tabletop. He leans back a little in his chair, staring at Chun-Li across the expanse of the booth. For a moment, he fixes her with one of /those/ looks.
"Hmph," he snorts, "always foolishly -noble-, just like that father of yours."
His gaze goes half-lidded.
Then the old man's face parts, his whiskered lips stretching back into a sly toothy smile. "That -is- your nature, isn't it, girl? Yours and his."
The old man's words earn him a faint blush from the woman, almond-brown eyes dropping to the tea in hand as she continues to grin--albeit a little nervously. "Y-yeah," is her reply, brows knitted slightly before she merely chuckles softly. "I suppose it was a bit much..?" Looking up, she gives the aging fighter a thoughtful glance.
...and finds the man giving her a sharp look. Almost immediately the woman's posture tenses.
But when he speaks of her father, she can't help but grin. Bowing her head, the woman's hands loosen around the warm porcelain cup, eyes drawing to a thoughtful close as she smiles and nods. For a brief moment Chun-Li is quiet and contemplative before she gently stirs her hands.
"It is, yes. I like to think...that I inherited the best qualities from my father." After all, there's no shame in nobility. "So I like to wear it proudly, you know?" Her smile broadens just a bit as she curls her fingers and taps her nails lightly. A pensive silence blankets the woman as she opens her eyes and peers at the man across from her.
"Forgive me for asking," she asks, briefly pursing her lips before she continues. "What have you been up to all this time, master Gen? You have been absent for some time..."
The old man doesn't reply immediately. He remains sitting across the table, returning his student's look. He raises his cup, holding it with two fingers. He takes a swallow of the hot beverage. Then he gestures with it, pointing at Chun-Li.
"Absent? Hmph. You make me sound like a child playing truant, girl."
He gives a harsh bark of a laugh, shaking his head.
Then his gaze sharpens, narrowing to a knife point. His voice takes on an edge.
"I could say," he murmurs, "that I have been spending my time training the idiot sons of Lee - much as I did for you, in your father's memory."
And there it is again. Gen speaks the words levelly, with nary a twinge of emotion - though he watches Chun-Li
And there it is again. Gen speaks the words levelly, with nary a twinge of emotion - though he watches Chun-Li's face, gauging her reaction.
"Of course," he adds, with a smile, "and that would be true. But not the whole truth. So. What do -you- think, hmm?"
Tilting her head a slight fraction as the cup is gestured toward her, Chun-Li's expression is mildly bemused. But when the old man speaks she grins in response, a humored expression on her soft face as she nods her head. Who knows? Maybe he did go missing without leave to get some time to himself, away from everything?
Her thoughts shift as he offers a sharp gaze, lips pursing lightly as he continues. "Really? I had heard that you had new disciples training with you, but I wasn't aware you were still training them. That's good to hear. Surely they aren't a handful?" Lifting her glass, Chun-Li takes a sip of tea, to hide the sad smile that creeps up on the woman.
Her eyes betray her with their distant light of sad fondness. Regardless, she sips her tea.
The moment the cup leaves her lips, the woman's smile is brightened anew. "What do I think? I'm not sure /what/ to think. Travelling was a thought." Her eyes hood slightly, the corners of her lips curling a touch as she adds, teasingly, "The thought of retirement crossed my mind, admittedly."
Gen's eyebrows lift, nearly reaching his hairline. Which is quite a feat indeed, considering the receding nature of the shock of white down his skull. The elderly man's lips curve downwards in a scowl.
He shifts his grip on the teacup in his hand, such that he can point one bony finger over the tabletop at his student. Accusingly.
"I suppose," he says, coolly, "you think that's -funny-, girl."
His voice drops to a whisper, barely audible over the background noise of the restaurant, forcing Chun-Li to strain her ears to hear it.
"I'll have you know there's still one battle left in me yet."
With a practiced motion, Gen tops up the warm beverage in his cup. Then, still holding the teapot, he beckons across the table, for Chun-Li to extend her own.
"Though I suppose my idiot students might yet be the death of me."
He eyes Chun-Li, then says, deliberately:
"Like you."
The moment Gen's expression shifts into a scowl is the moment when Chun-Li wonders if she really did say the wrong thing. She blinks once, eyes fixed on those shocking-white eyes that peer across the table toward her. In an almost absent gesture she bites at her lip, brows furrowed slightly as she turns her eyes from the man to the finger that's singling the Chinese woman out.
"W-well," she begins, trying to correct herself with a small and somewhat nervous smile. She did think it was funny! But she didn't mean it to insult the aging Assassin; her expression is telling enough. But she continues to smile--at least until he quietly, almost barely whispers he has one battle left. Her features shift, a mildly stern look upon her face before she merely draws her eyes shut.
"My apologies, master Gen," the woman offers with an apologetic grin as her eyes open.
The cup in hand is nudged forward, given to the man opposite of her for a refill. At first his accusations toward his pupils draws a soft chuckle from the woman. But when he eyes her and accuses her, the woman offers a soft pout. "Hey now. What's /that/ supposed to mean, master Gen?"
Gen returns her look with a flat and level stare.
They call Chun-Li the 'Strongest Woman in the World'...and that may well be truth. But Gen glares at her as if she were nothing but an errant child, or a particularly dim pupil. Which, perhaps, from his point of view, she is.
Tea sloshes into Chun-Li's cup as Gen refills it to the brim. Steam curls from the surface as he lets it settle. He does not break his silence as he returns the teapot to its place by the side of the table.
That done, he finally deigns to speak.
"Far be it from me to criticise," Gen says, mildly.
His expression, of course, indicates he believes anything /but/.
The look noted, the woman sinks /just/ a little in her chair. Though she has come a considerable way since her training with the old Assassin, the man is still her master, a man to whom the woman looks up to and respects. After all, without his help, she couldn't have become as strong as she has. And if he is still a master in her eyes, then that makes her still his pupil.
And that makes the look quite all right. But it doesn't make it any easier to take. The silence doesn't help, either. But, regardless, the woman tries to maintain a smile on her face as she offers her cup for a refill. The moment it's replenished she takes her hand back, wrapping both hands around it once more.
The response given draws the woman's gaze back onto Gen, a mildly puzzled expression crossing her soft face before she offers a light grin and lifts her glass. Taking a cautious sip, she considers his words before she lowers the porcelain cup.
"Well, I hope you aren't disappointed in me, sir," the woman ultimately replies, grinning softly still. "And I will have you know it is my intention to do anything but be the death of you. I'll let that be the responsibility of your new pupils." A pause follows as she takes another sip.
When the glass lowers, her expression is a bit somber. "I must admit, however...I find my battles these days against the men in such organizations like the Syndicate to be difficult ones." Glancing aside, Chun-Li thoughtfully casts her eyes onto the restaurant, a brief survey of its occupants before she looks back.
"I wonder if they've gotten stronger..?" Unspoken is the uncertainties of her own skill, but damned if the look isn't there in her eyes, as her brown gaze shifts from the aged man to her cup, despite that smile.
"Say, master Gen?" Again, her gaze lifts. "I don't suppose you would be willing to spar with me again sometime in the near future? It's been so long, and I think I could use a few pointers. That is, if you don't mind..?"
The cup raises once more as she takes yet another sip.
"Tell me, girl," Gen says, as he curls his fingers round the warm surface of his own cup, "is that respect you have, in asking...or timidity?"
What passed unsaid has not gone unnoticed. If she is questioning herself - no, that is not something the old man approves of. And that fact is evident as he regards her, meeting her lifted eyes cold and unblinking.
"Because /that/," he states, distaste dripping from his voice, "does not become you."
The silk fabric of his changshan shifts, the rich purple of his sleeve billowing...and he slams one hand hard to the table, his palm rapping against the wood. The shock is hard enough to rattle the teapot and cups, loud enough that it draws some attention from servers and customers in the restaurant.
Gen pays them no heed.
His eyes are on Chun-Li.
"Who are your enemies, girl?"
There are no real word to describe this moment.
The man before her speaks sternly, his words cutting as sharp as knives into the woman, leaving her mildly surprised and stunned. She says nothing in that moment, instead opting to let the man speak his piece until she is spoken /to/. She knows well her place before this man, and she does not dare wish to defy it.
Especially not when the man is looking at her with such a chilling stare.
She stirs when the man slams his hand upon the tables wooden surface, the noise loud and shocking, drawing more than its share of looks from around them. But like the Assassin, Chun-Li does not pay attention to them; they go ignored. Right now, the woman's almond-brown eyes are on that man seated across from her.
Slowly, the porcelain cup of tea in her hands lowers, nestling upon the table. Only then does she stir; with her hands flat upon her thighs, the woman bows her head deeply--respectfully--to the man before her, her words audible only to the man as she replies.
"My greatest apologies, master Gen." She will correct herself, she decides.
"It would be a great honor if you would give me a chance to again spar with you. Your input is of considerable importance to me." But a greater question lingers on the horizon, haunting her thoughts. Who ARE her enemies?
"My enemies...are men like Vega and Shadaloo. Like the men who run organizations like the Syndicate, or Rugal and "R."" Looking back up, the woman's expression in stern as she meets his gaze without fear or uncertainty. "But my greatest enemy is Vega. I have to become strong so that I may someday have revenge for my father." Under the table, the hands upon her legs curl into fists.
"They are my enemies, master."
Gen inclines his head, acknowledging this. His eyes close, momentarily, as he takes a breath. His hand lifts from the table, moving to the teapot. With an almost gentle motion, he replaces the cover jarred loose during his outburst...with a soft clink of porcelain.
But while his movements are slow, now, and his breath even, there's still an edge to his expression - evident as he turns just enough to stare at the one waitress foolish enough to pause in her work at the sudden commotion. She twitches, guiltily, caught by her employer's stare, and resumes clearing the table.
Gen gives a small, almost imperceptable nod.
He turns back to Chun-Li.
"So."
His eyes open.
"You have said this before, of course. But I ask you again."
He looks straight at Chun-Li.
"What do you /mean/ by revenge, girl? And what /will you do/ for it?"
Closely, Chun-Li observes as the man gently tends to the ajar teapot and its lid, brown eyes distantly thoughtful as she watches. She remains quiet, like before; in a moment such as this, it seems the most respectful gesture she can muster. And the last thing she wants or wishes to do is insult a man as wise and skilled as Gen. He has been a valuable asset on her quest for revenge.
Eventually his odd, white gaze turns back onto the woman, and almost immediately her posture tenses, a subconscious effort to be polite. What does she mean by revenge, he asks her. And more importantly, what would she do for it..?
Her thin lips purse in response, eyes drawing to the teacup she'd abandoned in favor of placing her hands upon her legs. Peering at it, she says nothing immediately; instead, she chooses to consider her words carefully.
"To me, revenge is dethroning that madman and putting an end to a cutthroat group like Shadaloo. I know it won't come easy, that, because he is a man without pity or remorse. Thus...if I have to...I will kill Vega to avenge my father's death at his hands...and the countless others who have died at that vile man's hands."
But a question lingers.
What WOULD she do for it?
"I have to become strong, if I want to fight him and achieve my goal." Looking up, she regards the old Assassin before her, features stern and resolved. "Therefore I have to push my body to its limits. I have to continue training, no matter what. I can't slack. To me, revenge is worth the pain of pushing myself to the limits--and surpassing them."
"So you know what you must do," Gen states.
He holds his own cup up, bringing the rim to his mouth. He takes a long drink of the tea, swallowing the bitter beverage, draining the cup until all that's left is flecks of stray leaf fragments, dancing round the bottom of the white ceramic.
With finality, he sets it down, for the last time, pushing it away with the back of his hand.
"And I will help you, girl. But I ask you -this-, as well."
He regards his student, unblinking.
"What is more important to you...that Vega dies, or that -you- be the one to kill him?"
His statement draws an immediate nod from the woman, her hands finally straying from beneath the table. Reaching out, she takes into her hands the porcelain glass once more, taking one last sip from its warm contents before setting the glass down before her. Only then do her eyes lift once again, settling upon the white depths that peer across at her.
"Thank you very much, master," the woman replies, bowing her head gently. She couldn't ask for a better man than Gen to teach her what he knows once more. As far as Chun-Li is aware, there is still considerably much more for her to learn. A smile briefly returns to her lips as he speaks once more.
His question causes the smile to fade a little.
For a moment the woman is without response. Across from him she sits, brown eyes fixed on the man's unblinking gaze. It's a heavy question to consider, after all, one that she had not really thought about--until now. A soft breathy sigh slips past her lips before she offers a small grin.
"Vega has wronged so many people," she replies. "It would be...foolish of me to think it was my destiny or something to be the one to kill him. As much as I would like to be the one to have that honor...I think and believe that with his demise the world will be a safer place, and many people who have been wronged by that man will be avenged.
"Thus, as long as Vega and Shadaloo are destroyed...I think I would be content."
Pausing, she lets her smile falter a bit.
"Even then, I know my work is not done. There are others out there who are just as ambitious and cruel. They too must be stopped if possible, and I will continue to fight as long as I can to put an end to such injustices out there.
"I think that's what my father would have done, were he in my shoes."
Gen brings his hands together, joining his fingers. He looks over his interlaced digits at Chun-Li.
"He would," Gen confirms.
The assassin is a cold man, a hard man, but he is still human, in the end. And he cannot forget that the woman sitting across from him, however grown she may be...is still his old friend's little girl.
"He would," Gen repeats, with certainty.
"But he is not," Gen continues, "so /you/ must."
A thin smile crosses the elderly fighter's visage.
"Of course, you don't need a doddering old fool to tell you that, do you?"
The words spoken from Gen are powerful. In mere seconds her features shift; where once her expression was stern and assured, now her features are sincere. Looking upon the aged Assassin with a gentle smile, her gaze is sincere and immensely proud. There are no words to describe how grateful she is for his sincerity. None, except:
"Thank you...very much."
Bowing her head deeply to the old man before her, the woman struggles to keep her smile small. Sometimes a little reassurance goes a long way, and where once the woman began to doubt her abilities, now there's confidence again.
"It helps to hear it from someone who knew him other than myself," she confesses with a sincere smile. "So I take it to heart, and I mean it." Were there any doubt, the woman's gaze assures that she means every word.
"And believe me, I will, master Gen," she assures, meeting the man's gaze with a smile.
With a scrape of wood on the floor, Chun-Li pushes her chair back and rises to her feet. With a few steps taken aside, she gives the aged man room to rise up himself, if need be. But, regardless of his action, the World's Strongest Woman offers him a deep bow from the waist up.
"I apologize, master, but I should probably head back to town and check up on my friend and see how his sister is doing while I'm in the area," she offers, rising up with a friendly smile. "It was so good to see you again. I very much look forward to the next time, sir."
Gen comes to his feet. His body is small. He is shorter than his student, with the slender fragility of an elderly man. But the movement, as he stands, shows no trace of stiffness. The motion is fluid, and his spine is straight.
He inclines his head in a nod, just once his hands folding in front of his chest, nearly covered by his sleeves. Slowly, deliberately, he returns the bow - shallower, perhaps, but a bow all the same.
"Just be sure, girl..."
The old man smiles.
"...that there /is/ a next time."
Log created on 20:35:08 10/22/2008 by Gen, and last modified on 17:45:47 10/23/2008.