The River Crossing

Written by: RinoaDestiny

King of Fighters, Kyo Kusanagi, Iori Yagami, and Yuki Kushinada belong to SNK

Comments: So technically, I'm on hiatus. Shouldn't even be here. My brain does weird little things, characters start talking or thinking in a separate headspace and off I go. Well, after trying to read - *cough* trying *cough* - Chinese and Japanese mini-doujinshi about my favorite pyros (of course, those doujins ship them and some of the art's really nice), I've noticed a commonality that runs through most of them. In about 80-90% of the super-angsty ones, I've noticed that Iori tends to angst about the fact that he's going to die from his blood curse and that he doesn't want Kyo around to see it. This strikes me as very odd in terms of Iori's characterization. So my headcanon Iori began ruminating and this fic is what I got.

Keeping in line with the above, this short one-shot fic experiment places them in a relationship but leans more heavily on the emotional side of things. The time frame is within the last year as the blood curse starts calling its dues.

He wasn't sure how it started. Neither, when he asked Kyo, did the other man know. It wasn't as if they hadn't had girlfriends – Iori was sure Yuki Kushinada still didn't know – but somewhere between the constant fighting, the constant rivalry, and the constant contact, the lines blurred and ran together. Initially, after one savage throwdown, they crossed the boundaries staked by their ancestors and were able to see each other not just as rivals but as genuine equals. That might've been the start but Iori would be hard-pressed to pinpoint when things shifted.

When he questioned Kyo, curious, his former rival shrugged. Had no answer.

Perhaps some things were just like that – no explanation to be had.

Something had changed – barriers torn down, tossed to the winds of old – and Iori didn't ask too many questions after that. As though the other had a like mind, Kyo also didn't push too hard as to why their rivalry became something else entirely. It was a change of pace – some peace of mind – after years upon years of taught hatred enforcing their lives. Kyo dropped by to visit once in a while when it first started, since neither one of them considered it serious.

After some time, there was another change and Kyo stopped by more often.

Iori took his visits as a gift – knew his father would've been livid, but he didn't care much about old history by then – and lived his days in relative ease. Time went by like this, pleasant enough, but as the days turned to weeks to months and then to years, both he and Kyo faced a reality that had always loomed before them from the beginning.

The relationship wasn't going to last and not from lack of trying.

It was simply because Iori's days were numbered and they both knew that.

The first time he approached Kyo about it, Kyo had heard him out – Iori wanted him to reconsider if it seemed pointless – and then the other man answered, face still and eyes set, solemn like some ancient priest. "I always knew that, Yagami. When this all began."

"You still have Kushinada." He didn't bring up the fact that Kyo was two-timing his faithful girlfriend, since that was between them and he wasn't a part of that relationship. All he knew was that Kyo could always stop this and go back to her. If that was what Kyo wanted, Iori wouldn't protest. He was going to die young and even he didn't know when that'd occur. On the other hand, if Kyo was willing to stick around, to brave through the time that'd come, then Iori would continue to welcome his presence. It was a comfort now, which was strange with what preceded all this.

He would never understand it.

"Yagami, I wouldn't leave you to deal with that alone. Don't think about it for now. You're still young – may get lucky."

That was three years ago. Iori had been twenty-four. Had left the conversation alone afterward. Had left the room to dwell in his thoughts, to see the path of where their current course was headed. He knew death was always there – could strike at twenty-five, twenty-six, or even twenty-nine and that was if he was lucky – and while both of them were aware of it, the knowledge didn't stop it from eventually happening.

That was three years ago and he was now twenty-seven. Twenty-seven and the blood curse wreaked havoc, destroying his body and his health and it all started with subtle innocence. He'd been fatigued but that was nothing new. Just because he and Kyo were on intimate terms didn't stop them from training – from sparring with each other – and the annual King of Fighters tournaments continued benefiting from their attendance. Between that, a surge in popularity for his band which meant touring, and his usual schedule, Iori wasn't surprised he was so tired lately. On the days Kyo wasn't around, he took to sleeping in late.

Then, the alarming symptoms manifested, took him by surprise.

He'd been reading a book one afternoon, sitting on the floor by the couch, when the second symptom set his nerves afire. It was a scalding within, as though flames scorched him from inside-out and the agony tensed every muscle. He'd screamed. That much he remembered. Symptom number three followed, short but brutal as his insides betrayed him by spattering the wooden floor with blood. It was as if an invisible hand wrenched his jaw open and his insides were stripped raw, crimson pouring from his throat in a messy stream while he watched in growing horror.

He'd blacked out that time, woken later, and somehow pulled himself onto the couch.

Kyo had found him like that the next day, covered with dried blood.

It only intensified from that point onward. Each bout increased in severity until it became plain to both him and Kyo that he wasn't seeing his twenty-eighth year. Kyo's visits were daily, with the other staying around until Iori dozed off and sometimes, the other man wouldn't leave. As he weakened, Iori asked Kyo again if this was all worth it. If their relationship coming to an end like this carried any meaning or left any memory worth remembering. He brought up the Kushinada girl again, told Kyo he need not stay, and prepared himself for the other to stand and leave.

But his former rival lingered by, eyes never wandering towards the door.

"You want me to leave that badly, Yagami?"

"Not particularly. But…" He was tired. Very tired these days. "You don't have to…not out of obligation…"

"It's not obligation. How many years has it been now?"

"Five. It's been five, Kyo."

"I've never spoken about leaving, Yagami, have I? Not in all that time."

"I did want to kill you at one point…years ago."

That brought a brief sad smile to the other's face. "Still alive, aren't I?"

"Yeah."

That had been one of the few conversations they had before Iori lost strength to even speak. As the pain burned through him – sapping his stamina and wringing him limp – coupled with the gradual blood loss, he was aware of his fading. It was like this for his father and for all the males in the bloodline before him. His voice disappeared into a whisper, his senses became muddled, and all the while, he knew Kyo hovered about, a solid presence that never seemed to fade.

The last conversation they had, Iori could no more than breathe; the words tenuous and frail. He was nearing the end – knew it had to come – and considered himself fortunate. He wasn't dying alone. He'd accepted that possibility years ago but this…this was unexpected. He'd never thought anyone would consider him worthy of it, let alone Kyo Kusanagi of the rival clan. Iori had been ready to be forgotten, to have his bloodline die out without anyone knowing. In the end, most people would've considered that well-deserved.

To have this…

"Kyo…" It no longer sounded like the other's name; yet, he sensed his reaction. A possible head turn, a subtle shift of movement.

"Yagami."

"You…you're still around…"

"Don't quit, do I? Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

He tried to smile at that but couldn't. "I…"

"It was worth it, Yagami. Never tell yourself it isn't."

"Kyo…"

That was the last conversation. Iori didn't have to see the lunar calendar – couldn't see any more as the blood curse stole his sight – to feel the slipping away of days. He hovered at the edge, stood with his feet near the river crossing that all took at the end of life, and knew without needing confirmation that Kyo was with him.

He never doubted that at all.