For These Scars

Written by: RinoaDestiny

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

Comments: Because my brain cannot simply let me enjoy happy stuff for long, this story came out of the woodwork days after "Life Line". I got sad even hearing it unfold in my head as the day went on. So, I've written a few Kyo/Iori fics already and in those, they tend to avoid scrutiny. However, in this one, reality ensues and oh, does it. Does it, ever.

Chapters will flip between Iori's point-of-view and Kyo's. I don't intend for this one to be very long (have enough long fics already to manage), but since the idea's not leaving, it needs a place to go. It needs room to breathe and develop besides inside of my head, which is a chaotic place right now.

It was the harsh knock on his door at three in the afternoon which first alerted Iori to trouble. Most of the apartment tenants were either out to work – salarymen working long hours – or high-schoolers not yet home due to clubs or cram school. That usually meant quiet afternoons and most of the time, no one bothered him. His landlord, if needed, would simply drop him a note in his box. He made an effort to check it twice every week, since he did have bills to pay and junk mail to get rid of. Afternoons were usually his – he was playing his guitar right now, working on a new piece – and Kyo tended to stop by either earlier in the morning or around eight at night.

No one he knew would be knocking on his door at this time.

Placing his cherished guitar aside on its stand, he removed himself from the couch and approached the door. There was yet another knock – force behind the blow – and that made all his fighter's senses run high, pumping adrenaline into his blood.

Who was standing outside looking for him?

Then, he heard the voice. Someone had lost patience. Apparently, knew he was here.

"I know you're in there, Iori Yagami. Open the door."

What the hell was Saisyu Kusanagi doing here? Why was Kyo's old man…

His blood ran cold. Did he know? Was that why he was –

"If you don't open the door right now, I'm going to melt the hinges and come in anyway. Do not make me."

There was nothing friendly or conciliatory in the other man's tone. Iori knew, if he refused, that Saisyu would make good on his word and storm in, wreathed in flames. He wished to avoid a violent confrontation at all costs with Kyo's father. Their long-standing feud was dead, insofar as Iori was concerned. Being on extremely good terms with his former rival did that, as well as maintaining as secret a relationship with him as possible.

This caused his blood to turn to ice again. How did Saisyu Kusanagi know his address? It wasn't as if he told anyone about his and Kyo's clandestine meetings. Kyo, he knew, promised to be discreet. So Kyo wouldn't have said anything, given anything away…

"Open up the door, you Yagami scum."

He did, because right at that moment, the heat wave hit him through the door.

Saisyu had brought out the flames as promised and was about to destroy the entrance way. He'd never known Saisyu to be a violent, blunt, or unpleasant man but he was quickly amending his belief about that. When it came to their clans, the hatred still lived within the old guard and young as he was, Saisyu wasn't playing nice with him.

That was understandable. He wasn't exactly kind to Kyo before, either.

But he had no quarrel with the old man, so why…

The moment his door opened, Saisyu barreled through with enough force to throw him back. Quick on his feet, Iori realigned his balance, adjusting his stance but refusing to bring up his hands. He didn't want to fight the old man. The feud was dead. Over. If he fought and hurt Saisyu Kusanagi or accidentally killed him, Kyo as heir of the Kusanagi clan would be forced to take revenge. He knew how it worked, how it ran in their families' histories since the betrayal and divide. He had to maintain control of himself here. Play defensive. It ran counter to all his training, all his experience in the arena and outside of it.

But he refused – Orochi in his head be damned – to draw blood on the man across from him. Because it'd be his fault, no matter who started it.

The door closed behind Saisyu Kusanagi. It was the loudest click Iori ever heard in his life. The man stepped forward, brows drawn together and every line in his body was intent on some unknown action.

Iori stepped back, unconscious he'd done so. Something was wrong here.

What was it?

"How'd you find me?" he asked, his voice loud in the silence.

"I have my means," Saisyu Kusanagi responded and Iori noticed then that he was dressed in the full garb of his clan. Whereas Saisyu usually wore the green kimono with the sun crests and his hakama, this time, he came clad in formal wear. Black haori with crests on both sleeves and on both sides of the collar, the sun crest in embroidered gold. This wasn't just some casual visit – this was business and Saisyu meant for him to know whom and what he represented.

Kyo might've been the heir but Saisyu was the Kusanagi head patriarch.

One head patriarch against the heir of a once strong clan.

Iori resisted stepping back again. The hairs rose on the back of his neck. What was this about? Why the waiting game?

"Why are you here?"

"What are you doing with my son, Yagami?"

His gut curled tight, went cold. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play the fool with me," Saisyu said and it was as if the temperature in the apartment dropped. "You think I don't know?"

How'd he find out? Through whom? What gave it away?

"Your sources misled you."

"They do not lie. You do. You are. Tell me, Yagami…what exactly are you doing with my son?"

"Nothing. I –"

Saisyu made a single gesture and Iori stepped back in time to avoid a wave of flame crackling in the spot where he once stood. Sweat dripped down his face, down his back, spotting his shirt. He clenched his fists. Stood his ground. Refused to fight.

"A liar as always. Just like your father. Just like the rest of your worthless clan."

He was going to ignore that, because it didn't matter. Not anymore.

"I have nothing to –"

"You do."

"Go ask your son if you want to know so much. Why are you here?"

"To hear it from you. Because I know, Yagami. I know what you're doing and what you've been hiding. You and my son both."

Iori made a choice, then. He couldn't let Kyo take the blame. To suffer his father's wrath. He had to deflect this away from Kyo, because... Because if he really cared for Kyo, he wouldn't allow Kyo to be maligned. They'd made their own decisions – conscious and completely mutual – but only they understood that. Saisyu Kusanagi standing before him, judgment in his eyes, wouldn't. In the end, he had to shoulder the blame.

"Does he know you're here?"

"What does that concern you?"

"He doesn't need to know. None of this…"

"I'll deal with my son in my own time."

"He did nothing wrong."

"Then, I'm not wasting any more time here."

He'd kept his sights on Saisyu, wary since the moment the man showed up outside his door and so Iori glimpsed the subtle movement of his foot. Throwing himself backward, using his leg as an anchor to keep his balance, he watched as Saisyu's hand arced right past him. A trail of bright orange flame followed, heat shimmering in the air. Still, he forced himself to remain defensive, nails digging hard into his palms. He didn't want to fight. Not at home. Not right now.

Not against Kyo's old man.

Saisyu moved again and Iori barely had time to blink, let alone process the speed as the other's arm arose, black sleeve swirling in his wake. It aimed for his face, for his eyes. Without hesitation, he threw his arm up to deflect the path of the attack. The blow that took him in the chest – the immediate follow-up – smashed hard against his sternum. Something snapped, pain ice-cold and numb and his strength sapped in that instant.

Heat and flame on the heels of that, Saisyu's fingertips gouging into his flesh and the agony was such that Iori couldn't even scream. It was too much at once and he had no strength left to resist, let alone manifest actual signs of pain.

Fire in his veins, burning and heat went through him like a vicious wave, undermining whatever reserves he had left. It was worse than the Riot of Blood, worse than Kyo's Orochinagi, worse than many things he'd suffered.

It left him hollow, burnt out but alive.

It was worse than death and he had no idea what it was.

When Saisyu was done, he was dropped unceremoniously to the floor, gravity pulling all of him down into a limp heap. His skin blistered where the internal heat flowed and through the pain, through the haze, he realized it was all going to scar. He'd been marked – the action was deliberate – and he knew, between the broken sternum and the burns that he needed to seek medical attention. Already, it was getting hard to breathe – fire in his lungs – and he didn't want to die.

"Why?"

Getting the word out was hard. Everything hurt.

Saisyu looked down at him, implacable. His voice was winter, was ice. "For what you did to my son."

"I…I didn't hurt him. I wouldn't…"

"You corrupted him!"

That hurt, even knowing what Saisyu thought of him; Iori flinched at his tone. The Kusanagi patriarch was stern, unforgiving – there was nothing to forgive; he hadn't done anything wrong – and the other man's voice didn't change as he continued talking.

"Like father, like son. Would it interest you to know this exact technique took your father out during our little rivalry? He never fought again after that."

No…

"To think I'd visit it upon you years later. You could have avoided it, if you didn't meddle."

"I didn't…"

"My son has a life and a future. None of which require you in it."

"But I…" Heat with every breath. Cold in his chest, a different kind of burning.

"I'm going to make this very clear, Iori Yagami. You only get this warning once. There will be no afters. No second chances."

Night coming down fast, swift and merciless like death over whatever joy he managed to grasp.

"If you approach him, if you even contact him, I'll bring the rest of the clan – without him – and give you such a death that there won't even be ashes left. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"

He'd thought his father terrifying. Saisyu Kusanagi would be in his nightmares for the rest of his life, if he didn't die tonight.

"But…Kyo…"

He never got further than that.

Saisyu's voice was steel, was cold controlled rage. "You're never seeing him again. I'll make sure of that."

A death – his happiness crushed, trampled – inexorable, relentless.

"This will be the last time I see you, Iori Yagami. Do not make me come a second time."

The second time would be his last.

Iori closed his eyes, unable to muster any response. He…he didn't have the strength for it. Or the words for it. He was also very close to the edge of losing control…of…

The door opened. Closed.

Saisyu Kusanagi had left. Hadn't said anything. He'd done his deed, said his words, and left him for dead on the floor of his own apartment. Because his life was nothing to him. Would mean nothing to him without Kyo.

He wanted to cry. Instead, he fumbled for his phone, unable to feel his hands past the lingering burning pain. Forced his consciousness to last long enough to call for the ambulance. Darkness crashed down after, light fading until all sensation passed.