Oo After watching Street Fighter Assassin's Fist, I went on a Street Fighter spree watching all the anime and reading a few of the comics. After that came the slash. DO NOT read this if the idea of Ryu and Ken together make you want to tear out your eyes. Also, I've combined various aspects from the many different universes of Street Fighter so this is my own interpretation of the characters. oO

The Chosen Path

Chapter 1: No longer in sight

The blazing hot sun had yet to make its way above the horizon when Ryu began his strenuous training for the day. No two training days were ever the same because Ryu was always on the move. He used whatever was at his disposal to polish his strength and skills with. Sometimes that meant climbing mountains. Other days that meant racing through the forest at full speed, hearing the light crackling of pine needles and dry leaves beneath his bare feet while feeling the humid air brushing against his sweat soaked skin. He absorbed every sensation, every experience, with the utmost concentration.

As Ryu was slowing down, finishing his 20 kilometer run, he became aware of the high pitched drone of a swarm of cicadas welcoming the new day with their frantic singing. They were scattered around him, filling the nearby trees and bushes with the sounds of summer.

Ryu wiped the sweat from his face with the front of his white karate gi, and then shook his fingers through his drenched dark hair in a vain attempt to dry it. If Ryu hadn't been born and raised in Japan, the intense summer humidity might have sent him to the nearest hospital, suffering from heatstroke. If he were actually anywhere near a hospital, which he wasn't.

He still remembered his best friend's first summer in Japan. In the middle of August, on one particularly scorching hot day, Ken had sprawled on the steps of the dojo, fanning himself with the top of the red gi that he had taken off. "I can't spar today, Ryu. I'm melting," Ken had complained, swiping his long blonde ponytail off of his neck in annoyance.

At that time, Ryu hadn't been very good at English and Ken had been even worse at Japanese, so little had been exchanged between them. Ryu had just stood there, patiently waiting for his American counterpart to recover, absently noting that Ken's pale skin didn't naturally tan like Ryu's did. Ken was as red as umeboshi – Japanese pickled plum – a food that Ken absolutely hated.

After a few minutes went by with Ken grumbling and Ryu feeling his patience waning, Master Gouken appeared from the path leading to the temple. He was wearing black hakama - traditional Japanese pleated trousers – with a plain white kimono, despite how uncomfortable the heavy material must've been making him feel.

"Ken. Ryu. Continue your training inside." Master Gouken was carrying a tray with iced barley tea and salted rice crackers. He stepped over Ken's legs to get into the dojo, taking the tea time snacks with him.

At the time, Ryu had to admit that he'd been disappointed to see his master showing the foreigner leniency during their training. Master Gouken had never allowed Ryu to slack off, or altered his training regiment, regardless of the weather. But after they were inside the dojo and the true extent of Ken's sunburn became obvious, Ryu softened a bit. Of course Master Gouken hadn't directly addressed the issue, choosing to spare Ken's dignity by casually dropping a healing salve into his lap on the way out. It was just one of the many indirect lessons that Ryu had continued to learn during his time training under Master Gouken, and with Ken.

The image of Ken's shiny red shoulders faded to be replaced by rough bark and a marching trail of ants.

Ryu blinked, not sure why he had been drawn back into that particular memory or why he was halfway up a Japanese cedar tree, his nails filthy with dirt and pieces of bark. There were times when his attention span would lapse and he'd find himself in the middle of some odd activity that he had no recollection of having started. This was one of those times. At nearly twenty meters off the ground, Ryu paused to try and force Ken from his mind. His powerful thighs locked around the thick trunk of the tree, giving his arms a rest as he debated whether to continue going up or go back down.

"Do you ever stop training? What do you do for fun?" Ken had asked Ryu in grammatically incorrect Japanese when they were well into their second year of training.

In the process of reaching for a new handhold, Ryu's grip faltered and he slipped backwards, clawing ungracefully for the trunk of the tree. He missed and ended up arching his back at an uncomfortable angle, letting the muscles in his legs do all the work in keeping himself in place.

Ryu hung there for a few seconds, eventually working his abdominal muscles and managing to pull his upper body back into alignment with the tree trunk. The ants curved away from his calloused fingers that he used to grab onto the bark, quickly easing himself back down the way he had come. He could just imagine if Ken had been there to witness his little slipup. Ken would've been laughing his head off, teasing Ryu for not being as perfect as he made himself out to be.

With an inaudible sigh, Ryu realized that he would've given anything to hear Ken's laughter again.

Halfway around the world, as well as 16 hours behind, Ken Masters was sitting at his desk, staring at a spreadsheet full of seven digit numbers. He leafed through a few booklets on his cluttered desk, entered a few more numbers, glanced up, then back down again at some handwritten notes. Switching applications, he typed up an abrupt note to his father, hit send, and then pulled up his schedule for the following week.

Less than five minutes later, Ken's cell phone was buzzing on top of the desk, his father's personal number flashing ominously at him.

"What now?" Ken muttered to himself. He tapped the screen to accept the call and returned his attention to his schedule. "Hey, Dad! What's up?"

"Ken, what are you doing now?" Mr. Masters' accusing tone immediately got Ken's attention.

"Going over the spreadsheet that you sent me. Again. It was full of mistakes," Ken said sarcastically.

"Are you sure that you're really focusing on work? Because judging by that email you just sent me, it seems like you're multitasking again."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"'Hey Dad, I don't know hadouken the accountant missed this handful of expenses. Will fight it now. Ken.'" Mr. Masters read back Ken's most recent email, trying to keep his tone level as he did so. "Hadouken? You're not doing that now, are you?"

"Dad, come on!" Ken swore under his breath. "You know how unreliable technology is. I can't type my name without autocorrect changing it to something bizarre."

"Autocorrect didn't do this. Hadouken isn't even a word. If you can't keep your mind on the task at hand, I suggest you take a break and leave the financial records alone before you screw something up. I don't have the time to double check your entries."

Counting backwards from ten to one, Ken used all his willpower to prevent him from mouthing back at his father. "Okay. Whatever. I'll check it again in the morning." After hanging up, Ken ran his hands through his long blonde hair in frustration. Was he really doing this again? Thinking of fighting in the middle of working hours? Lately he was having trouble separating the boring drudgery of paperwork that his father kept dumping on him from the exciting life of fighting and honing his ki. If Ryu were in his place, there would be no question about his dedication or focus.

Ryu…

When was the last time he'd seen Ryu? It had to have been at least a year ago because Ryu never visited San Francisco in the winter, and Ken never went back to Wakayama in the summer. In fact, Ken hadn't been back to Japan for over three years. Although he had a lot of fond memories of Japan and enjoyed spending time in his mother's birthplace, he had very little time for leisure trips while studying to take over his father's legacy. Every day there was something waiting for him to learn and memorize. If he wasn't studying the fluctuations in the marketplace, he was being taught how to keep his facial features still and impartial, putting on what his father referred to as a poker face.

Ken shuddered to think of the first business meeting his father had thrust him into. It had been a disaster.

"You fight with a wild rage," Ryu had said to Ken a few months after they discovered their beloved mentor murdered at the hands of Akuma. Ryu had easily blocked all of Ken's wild kicks and taken him down with a swift combination of punches, followed by a casual foot sweep. Ken remembered glaring up at Ryu, his chest and shoulders heaving with the exertion and embarrassment of having been defeated so effortlessly.

"I'll show you rage," Ken had snarled, ready to get up and knock Ryu off his high horse.

But Ryu's next words plowed through the fire that burned in Ken's veins and heart. "I am not your enemy, Akuma is. You are not alone in this, Ken. We will avenge Sensei Gouken's death. Together." Although Ryu would never elaborate on what he meant or how he was feeling, the words alone were powerful enough to bring Ken back to his senses. Ryu reached down, offering his hand to Ken, and Ken took it, being hoisted back onto his feet.

Ryu's mere presence was enough to keep Ken grounded and his vision clear. The longer he went without seeing Ryu, the more control Ken seemed to lose. He was having trouble understanding why he wanted to take over his father's multi-billion dollar hotel enterprise, or why he was even sitting around in a chair all day looking at a boring computer screen. His leather shoes pinched his toes, and his designer necktie was always too tight, causing the starchy collars of his business shirts to chafe his neck. He felt like such a phony, pretending to be something that he was not. This was not the life that he had been raised to lead.

As Ken undid his necktie and flung it onto the desktop, toeing off his shoes on the way to his private elevator, he began to wonder if Ryu ever thought about him. And if so, was the confusion and emptiness a one-way thing, or did Ryu feel the same?

Oo Please review if you want me to continue this! oO