One of the (very very many) things Dan was proud of was his speed. In fact, he was reputed to have even outrun a speeding car once. The fact that the car was being driven by a little old lady only going ten miles per hour was hardly worth bringing up, at least that was Dan’s logic if it ever popped up in friendly conversation. Unfortunately, Dan lacked the mental capacity to always look where he was going when running at a full sprint.

He had crossed the border of the village he was staying in, and raced into the woods beyond in his mad dash to get to Taiyo. At a pace that would have winded a marathon runner, Dan kept going for close to five hours. Sadly, had he not been so fervent in his effort to get to Taiyo, he might have heard the other voices he was approaching.

“What the hell!?”

“Who or what is that!?”

“Get him off the set!”

“Take cover!!!”

Dan squinted as a huge flash of light erupted in his field of vision, and his eyes took two seconds too long to get adjusted. As they did, he realized that he was heading for a wooden chair marked ‘Director’. Dan attempted to jump over said chair, but as was already mentioned, it took him two seconds too long to realize it was there. Ergo, Dan’s foot caught on the material on the back of the chair, which was more or less anchored to its position by a large man who had taken some form of cover behind it. Dan’s rather large amount of momentum caused him to take immediate flight, which was temporarily interrupted rather painfully due to a being known as Mr. Oak Tree.

Much to Dan’s surprise, he kept moving. The tree had apparently developed a will of it’s own and decided, as such a stationary thing as a tree would, to come along for the ride. This bizarre oak felt surprisingly light to the pink wonder, as if it were made of styrofoam instead of actual wood. The tree rolled along the ground while Dan grabbed the trunk and held on for his life. As the spinning Dan hit the ground however, the force of the trees motion caused parts of the fake bark to come apart in his hands, forcing Dan to fly through the air and leave poor Mr. Oak behind. Luckily though, the forest had been nice enough to put up some extra obstacles for him. A high trailer with a star on the door loomed up at Dan in the same manner a trailer-like demon of Hell would loom at a snowball. Dan slammed into the trailer face-first, knocking it off its tires and tilting it, promptly spitting its occupant out of a window on the other side. As gravity once again took its hold on our hero, Dan sailed downward and crashed on the side of a table full of doughnuts. Bear claws and cinnamon buns went flying like ballistic missiles, knocking over several innocent bystanders and one large expensive looking camera, which promptly burst into towering orange flames the moment it touched the ground. The fire spread quickly, setting various supplies and costumes (as well as some of the people wearing those costumes) on fire. As (exceedingly bad) luck would have it, the flames reached a makeup table, transforming the aerosol hair spray bottles into miniature bombs, sending additional conflagrations and shrapnel flying through the air in a dazzling fireworks show that would have put out the eyes of anyone watching. Part of that shrapnel buried itself in the tires of the tilting trailer, and the bursting of those tires provided just enough force to knock it fully on its side with a large crash, associated with an immense clattering as the furnishings inside fell.

The world went black to Dan as he heard someone screaming “Wipe that trailer off your face and pick up that doughnut! Put out that idiot and catch that fire!” or something like that. Dan didn’t really care to get the words in the right order at that particular moment.

And, adding this event to his glorious history of head injuries, Dan relaxed as the world went black to him again.

”It’s almost time. See? The sun’s just coming up...”

“Hm.... Well, I suppose it does look rather nice.”

“You suppose? I tell ya man, this is one of the greatest things you can see in the world.”

“Ha. You sound as if you’ve been all over it. Twice, in fact.”

“Oh I will be. Once I finish my dad’s work, I’m going all over the world. Tournaments, street fights, stuff like that, y’know? What’s the point of being strong if I can’t show it off a bit, eh?”

“You have an interesting philosophy. Just when do you think your training will end?”

“I dunno. I suppose whenever Gouken says I’m ready.”

“I wouldn’t trust him in that regard. I think Gouken’s plans are different from your own.”

“Waddaya mean ‘different’?”

“.....You want to kill the man responsible, don’t you?”

“Yes....?”

“Then Gouken will never say you’re ready. Death is a part of life, but he refuses to accept such a thing.”

“So if I don’t kill, I’ll be ready to face him?”

“But isn’t your passion for that man’s death the reason you’re here?”

“...............”

“Don’t worry. The answers will come to you. We’ve talked too long. I’ll have to train an extra three hours to make up for this. Perhaps that mountain trail where you run laps....yes, that should do.”

“You work too hard, you know that?”

“Maybe. But it shall be worth it. Goodbye, my friend.”

“I’ll see ya around, Gouki. Oh and watch out for that jump on the trail. You know why.”

“Of course.”

Back in the little backwater village that SOMEONE hadn’t named yet, the casual passer-by would have thought that Enyah Gail was at ‘that time of the month’ or something. At least, that’s what the casual male passer-by would say when he saw pretty much any woman jumping up and down and screaming like a banshee.

“No no no NO! I can’t get him like this! Stupid little weakling gets knocked out just by hitting ONE LITTLE TRAILER!?” she shrieked. The wrinkled one was going into near-hysterics, as her stomping feet shook the various mystical decorations adorning her walls. One of these decorations, bearing a resemblance to a clown face with horns on it, burst free of its shaky nailed moorings to the weak wooden wall, and came crashing down on the poor midgets head.

Enyah stood there fuming with the oversized mask-like object on her head, before angrily (as if she could do it any other way) flinging it to the ground. The black, void eye holes peered at her impassively as her rage built to proportions far beyond the reach of any Midol known to man.

“Stupid Monstrous Zoamelgustar....”the old one muttered. Her eyes narrowed, a brief flash of glimmering anger illuminating the aged pupils in a golden blackness. With a resounding crash or metal and wood, the Monstrous Zoamelgustar seemed to crunch inward. Four very large indentions bore their way into the yellow and black designs of the giant mask, turning it from what seemed to be a horned dome on the floor, to little more than a flat, metallic pulp imbedded in the rotting woodwork. The metal gave an anguished scream as the pressure let off, but it was cut short as it met the receiving end of another vicious hammer blow. Once, twice, three times more, the invisible onslaught continued as the enraged Enyah stood watching with fury dancing over her aged face. Eventually, the banging came to an end, and the once proud Monstrous Zoamelgustar lay flat, almost totally engraved into the floor. Enyah simply smiled an evil grin, and turned towards the window.

“I feel much better now.”

“Ugh....owie owie owie...” whined the weak voice of everyones favorite Saikyo-Ryuu practitioner. He rolled over, hoping to remove some of the pressure from his aching back, and only received...

WHAM!

...an aching front for his troubles. Dan lay motionless for several minutes, feeling a slight tingle as a tiny rivulet of blood wound its way onto the cold, cement floor from his battered nose. Then, carefully placing his hands on the floor, he pushed himself upwards slowly, the pain very gradually subsiding into a dull throb. Placing one knee under himself on the floor, he rose to a shaky standing position, one hand hugging the wall for support.

“You finally up, Son?”

Dan’s eyes opened carefully, the dull light like a concentrated beam before his pupils, which gradually adjusted to the uniformed visage of a man before him. The man was a bit tall, with a grey moustache covering his upper lip almost as much as the hat he wore covered his balding head. Dressed in shades of blue, Dan noticed more easily the pistol and nightstick attached to the man’s belt. He stumbled forward to get a closer look, but was interrupted by the clanging noise one only hears when iron meets ones skull. Said noise was associated by another surge of pain going through his head. Dan rocked back, teetering on the balance board of...well, balance before his hand felt the wall again, steadying himself.

“Whoa, there Tiger. Don’t hurt yourself any more than you already are.” said the man on the other side of the bars.

“Where....where am I?” asked the young warrior.

“You’re in a jail cell, located in one of the best damn prisons in Taiyo–“ began the elder man with a hint of pride in his voice.

“Did you say Taiyo!?” Dan interrupted, rushing forward to make sure he heard the man right. Unfortunately, he didn’t think of where he was properly and ended up slamming his poor noggin into the bars again. Without the aid of a wall, Dan tumbled backwards and landed on the floor. The guard tsk, tsk tsked and got out a set of keys, unlocking the door and stepping inside, sitting near the fallen one.

“Wh...why am I here?” asked the pink-clad one, his voice weak and sickly.

“Well...lemme see now...” the guard looked up, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Trespassing, Destruction of Private Property, Arson, Assault of a Trailer, Illegal Creation of Explosive Devices from Household Products, and Wanton Hurling of Doughnuts at Old People. That ring a bell, Slick?”

“Oh yeah...tell me, why would someone be filming a movie in the woods here?” asked Dan. He carefully moved his arms up onto his chest and drew his legs together, leaving the spread eagle position he had taken upon landing on the floor the second time.

“Not my job to know. Now, I have some questions for you.” said the guard. “Name?”

“Uh...” only by trying very, very hard did Dan manage to keep in his mad grin, “Ken Masters. Name’s Ken Masters.”

“Thank you for cooperating, Ken. You know you really should carry some ID with you though. Makes this go a lot quicker.”

“I know...no room though. Hey...” Dan turned his head weakly to the guard, his voice still cracking on occasion. He wasn’t getting up any time soon. “How far is it...to Taiyo High School?”

“What? Well...its about in the middle of town, couple miles from here...why would you want to know, Sport?”

“I just...I...I!” Dan suddenly grabbed at his chest, his breathing coming out in loud, heaving bursts of pain. His back arched from the cold stone floor as a weak cry of agony escaped his lips.

“You’re what, son!?” The guard quickly leaned over Dan, trying to assess the problem the young man was going through. Panic was obviously brewing behind the old man’s eyes, as it was rare for people in such bad condition to be brought in.

The guard really wasn’t expecting Dan to sit straight up, grab him by the collar, and smile like nothing was wrong.

“I’m really sorry about this, that’s what. GADOKEN!”

In eighteen years, one person had discovered the ultimate, and undeniable truth that applies to all things in the known universe: Bake-off’s were really frickin’ boring. How could ANYONE be expected to get some exciting pictures of people taking cookies out of the oven which seemed to be cold and stale the moment they were deprived of the oven’s surface-of-the-sun heat? If that damn editor so much as bitched one damn word about the damn pictures she was damn assigned....

Ran sighed. She’s grin and take it. That much she knew. Though she may have been the almighty goddess of good looks, intelligence, and total physical perfection, she couldn’t beat up her editor just for not liking her pictures. Ran stretched her arms and yawned, fingering bake-off’s as her number one cure for insomnia. She stretched her arms, her wrists jutting out of the sleeve mouths of her white school shirt, and set them down on her desk, nestling her head on the confines of her makeshift cushion. Her blue vest seemed to expand around her, cushioning her in a cocoon of warmth that could rarely be felt in the freezing cold of the newspaper room. Surely a few minutes of rest wouldn’t hurt anything....

“HIBIKI!” screamed an irate (and very loud) voice.

“Yipe!” yiped Ran, her arms flailing from underneath her head, which had shot up at the first sound of the screeching. Her right arm accidentally hit a plastic coffee cup, sending the searing-hot liquid on a direct collision course for the crotch of the person who had just deprived her of some serious napping.

The pained look on her editors face really was quite funny.

Eric sighed, as was per tradition in the last class of the day. It was a part of the day everyone knew, when the minute hand on the bell could actually be perceived as going backward instead of performing it’s God given task of making the bell ring and releasing the students from the prison of desks, chalkboards, and unidentifiable cafeteria food. Eric let his face rest on his hand as his teacher made her monotone speech. X equals Y times the cosine of the variable of the thermostat which is why the square root of Z made it so cold that if you stared at her shirt long enough...

Eric shook his head. Shouldn’t think such things about teachers. Scary bunch, they were. Being caught staring (as opposed to the rest of the male portion of the class who the aforementioned teacher failed to notice never looked at her face) would definitely hurt his reputation even more, not that it was that much now anyway. As one of the few students here on the American Exchange Program, he was already used to hearing not only the abrasive use of the word ‘foreigner’ behind his back, but also the snickering accompanied whenever someone picked up on an accent he had developed on the plane ride here.

Eric looked up as a blaring, painful sound reverberated through his ears. Had he the political opening, he would have jumped up and yelled for joy. Final bell! School is dismissed!

Ran smiled gently as she stepped off of school grounds and onto the sidewalk, beginning her ritual exodus to reach The Promised Land, a.k.a. Ran’s Swingin’ Bachelorette Pad. Stopping at the edge of the sidewalk, an action which, if not performed, would have meant a large spattering a Ran-bits over the road due to the passing juggernaughts of the screaming cars, she noticed someone come up to her side. Looking even more relieved than Ran at being released from the ancient prison of Taiyo High, he absently put his hand over his shoulder length black hair to defend it from the merciless onslaught of the ripping wind. Ran hardly worried for her own black hair for she kept it so short, but focused on identifying the unknown boy to her left. She never forgot a face. At least, not one she’d blessed with the honor of being photographed by her. Ah, he was the American boy! The paper had wanted to do a small bio on each, sort of a welcoming for the new students. Of course the dumbass editor hadn’t realized that these particular students didn’t want that much attention. Being recognized for grades was not necessarily looked at with pride. More feared that word of their intelligence would leak out, given that whole Burning Justice incident a while ago. Ran silently cursed the imposing savior of the Justice High students, that damn boy had refused to let even one picture be taken! Oooo, that made her so angry when he took her camera....

“Uh...excuse me? Just why are you staring at me like that?”

The slightly fuming Ran brought her mind back to the present, and realized she had probably just given the exchange boy the Look of Death. She quickly flashed her most dazzling smile, something her bloodline was apparently gifted with.

“Oh nothing! My mind just trailed off for a moment!” she apologized. This prompted a slightly odd look from the boy, who eventually just shrugged and gave a half smile of his own. Before either could continue this farce of a conversation, they both felt some hearty shoves into the road from the people behind them, intent on crossing the street now that the northern lights, more commonly known as the Walk/Don’t Walk signs, were in their favor.

Eric despised being shoved like that. Even if the traffic had stopped momentarily, there was no reason for these people to be so rude! Just how many of them knew who he was, anyway? Were they as blatantly bigoted as the kids back home? And just what was this girl doing staring at him like that? Although...she seemed a bit different. That was the same chick who had snapped his photo on his second day, Eric was sure of that. Same jacket, same hairstyle, and that had to be the same camera hanging on her neck...

“Um...so you live around here too?” asked Ran.

“Huh?” asked Eric. Now it was his turn to snap back to the present. Snapping a quick look behind Ran, he realized he had no bloody clue where he was. Why had he just kept walking with her, anyway? Wait, better not to ask, that’s how he got lost here in the first place. “Well, uh...yes, actually. You don’t mind I walked with you, Miss..?”

“Ran. No reason for me to mind at all, I think. Nice to meet you...again.” Ran struggled to remember the boys name, though she came up blank with multiple tries.

“Eric. Names Eric.” he said. Taking another look at their trajectory, he began with his now usual unsure tone “uh...shouldn’t you watch where you’re going?”

“Why do you say tha-?” Ran began, before hitting the signpost face first. With one leg sticking out comicly as if to finish its next step, Ran fell backward into the arms of Eric, who promptly helped her to her regular footing.

“I warned you.” he said, trying to hold in his giggles at the big vertical red line forming in the middle of his companions face.

“Grrrr....” growled the irate journalist, before ripping into her new friend as per ceremony dictated.

Dan watched the road carefully from his position on the roof. The small, one story building was near enough that Taiyo High could be seen in the distance over the reddening horizon of steel and glass towers, but that was no longer his destination. Surely, he would have continued his journey and gone ahead to the school, but his parameters had changed the moment he saw her. Short black hair, blue school vest, and a figure which made Dan do a quick double-take. That couldn’t be the little girl he left years ago! And yet, that camera was around her neck. That camera, with it’s extending lens and that pop-up flashbulb Dan always thought looked like something out of a black and white movie. Dan quickly winced and grabbed his head as an unnerving pain wound it’s way into his cranium–

”So, what are you going to do with it?”

“I’m gonna....I’m gonna go around the world and take monster pictures!”

“Oh really? Like what?”

“Yup yup! Just like those guys in King Kong!”

“Oh? You mean you’re going to turn a big ape loose on our city?”

“Hehehe of course not! You’re the only ape around here! Besides, Kong would be too enveloped in my beauty to attack anyone!”

“Or maybe he’ll just grab you in his smelly monkey paw and climb up Tokyo Tower like this! Roar!”

–Dan snapped back to the present with the sound of childish giggling still in his ears. Just in time to see the girl, who had walked just past his hiding spot send a slap at the boy with her. There was no mistaking it! The gangsters had beaten him here and they aimed to take his sister for some evil scheme! No way his little sister could survive without his help! Dan took a few running steps, and with a screaming battle cry, leapt off the ledge of the building and sailed down to his sisters aid like a Blazing Comet of Justice(Tm)!

“Don’t worry Ran! I’ll save you! SAAAIIIKYOOOOO!!!!”

Ran looked up, seeing one of the last things anyone would have been prepared to witness. A huge, pink-suited figure sprang from the top of the building like a brightly colored pastel panther, and was rocketing towards Eric and her screaming the name of....

Her mind snapped into instant reflex. Pushing Eric out of the way, she tucked her body into a ball and rolled forward. She came out of the roll and turned around just in time to hear a resounding {SMASH!} and saw the pink-clad man land face-first into the pavement. Time passed for what seemed like an eternity. Her, crouched on the sidewalk, Eric with his back to a wall, and the man looked to be standing on his head, only with his face into the ground. A slight wind blew, just enough to ruffle her hair and send the man down onto his back, knocked out cold. Ran walked over to him, and examined the fallen fruitcake. Pink karate suit, black shirt underneath, ponytail....yup, it was Dan all right. She looked over to Eric, who was needless to say, spooked.

“Look, uh...my house is near here” she began, “could you maybe help me get this guy inside?”

“What!? You want this psycho in your house!?” Eric seemed to be overreacting...slightly. Why should one get so uptight just because a loud man in similarly loud clothes jump out of the sky at you, she wondered.

“Actually...its um....’Saikyo’ not psycho. Anyway, he’s...my brother.”

Eric stared for maybe a minute, shrugged, and then walked over. Bending over the fallen one, he picked him up by the armpits, letting the man’s feet still stay on the ground.

“Lead the way.” he said in an exceedingly exasperated voice that betrayed the owners desire to crawl into bed and forget the day. Ran grinned, and walked to the other side of the man, picking him up at the ankles.

And together, they both walked off to Ran’s Swingin’ Bachelorette Pad.