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"Believe in Dreams" "In today's news, a sudden crash of an American flight caused major casualties. Twelve people were reported dead at the scene while at least 36 others are in hospital suffering minor or major injuries. More on this report at 11..." A stranger walked into the open bar. Nothing new than before except he was covered in a somewhat conspicuous cloak. Perhaps a shield from the now 2-day constant rainshower. He was trying to be unnoticable, the bartender noticed, and though the regular crowd wanted nothing to do with him, they couldn't help but stare at some unspeakable appeal he possessed. He came to a stop at the bar table. The crowd maintained their silence, and only the television gave a tiny ruckus. Looking up from wiping a beer mug, the bartender came upon him. It was his job to serve customers regardless of appearance. "What will it be?" "Gimme a beer." he said simply. He grinned widely then erased it should anyone recognise his signature trademarks. The bartender raised an eyebrow. That voice, and what little he could see of the face, was quite juvenile. But he shrugged, a customer is a customer, and served him the request. In the back of the stranger's mind, he could hear a nagging presence in the form of a voice shake his head in disapproval. If that presence let itself be known physically, he would have listened. Probably. Oh well, such is life, and he graciously accepted the beer given to him. "At 2 am last night a man was reported to have broken into a home and stole several precious belongings, including various antiques and electronic equipment. Police are looking for a suspect said to be in his mid 30's..." With nothing to say and only the television to keep him company, the young stranger eyed the calendar. Strange that such a dingy bar would keep itself to date. 'Has it been 2 days already? Damn, this must be the 3rd bar...? 5th...? Whatever...' he wondered to himself. He shook his head at his unsuccess then folded the cloak over his eyes. "You know anything 'bout the Flurry Blue Dragon, Yang Lee?" Somehow, the silence grew denser. The bartender knew there was something fishy about this character. "How much will it owe you?" The stranger slammed a roll of money on the table. Said bartender frowned deeply, then stuffed the money in his apron. "Well, word's goin' around that the Twin Dragons were sucking up money in the underground tournaments. Somehow their grandfather - Gen the Assassin Fist - found out and kicked 'em outta house and home. Yang Lee seemed to have disappeared completely without a trace 'cause no one's seen him since. Witnesses said that for the past 2 days they saw his brother lookin' for him. But as for Yang Lee's whereabouts, sorry but I dun'no nothin'." "Yeah, cool. Thanks." the stranger muttered, taking a sip of his beer. 'Damn. No answers here, either. Where the hell do I go now?' He then closed his eyes and thought of yesterday. "Yang! If you can hear me, answer me! Ya..nn..." His revere was cut short as he tripped and fell in a puddle of water. Uncharacteristic of him. He was tired, hungry, and near desperate. Yet, he was not going to give up, nor was he going to blame his problems on his physical state. Searching by himself was going nowhere. He must have searched all over town. As much as he prefered doing things alone, he knew the only solution was to ask for help. But he was also wet. He went into a store and bought a rain poncho. At first the storekeeper didn't accept his money - she didn't want anything to do with him. However, she saw how soaked to the bone he was, and that he may catch a cold. Not to mention she was slowly taken in by his charm. She offered him the cloak free of charge, plus a change of clothes, plus a towel, and a bowl of warm soup. The young man never asked for that and accepted with a warm grin. Sometimes, having that charismatic effect on others helped him out. Feeling refreshed, he left the store and went to look around. He knew he couldn't ask just anyone off the streets. He'll have to trust his instincts on who to ask. But they're just the ordinary breed of people. 'To hell with asking them about underground connections.' he muttered to himself. 'Heck, they're staring at me.' One person, a lady, stopped him. "After all you've done, you still roam the streets of Hong Kong? Are you still thinking of going home when you have none to return to?" He tipped his cap. "Sorry, ma'am. I ain't goin' home until I find my brother." The lady paused and left, disgusted. The young man realized he couldn't go around asking people with his recognisable features and quickly tarnished reputation. He displaced his cap and hid it underneath his shirt. Then, he covered his face from the rain. Once those actions were completed, the people didn't appear to recognise him so easily, though some still did. And it'd be better if he comes off anonymous. So as he walked, the crowd spoke less of his name and status directly to him and spoke of that instead as a flying rumor. To the side he saw a random martial arts school - Karate to be exact - along with a boy and his father. "But daaaddd... I don't wanna learn Karate. I wanna learn Kung Fu just like the Twin Dragons!" The young man grinned. 'We're that popular, eh?' "You will not learn Kung Fu and that's final! Don't you know that they had entered illegal tournaments just to get money?" "Yeah, I know, I heard about it at school. They had to get money for their sick grandma's medicine." "But they did bad things to get the money. They have a job, they should have worked honestly. I don't want you to be bad like them. Now come on, I'm going to sign you up now." "But daaaddd...!!" The next thing they knew, the young man had stepped in between them. "Give the kid a little slack. He's gonna learn about the real world sooner or later." He turned to the kid. "You're gonna be a great martial artist one day. Just remember to never, ever do anything illegal. 'Cause it's bad." And before either could reply, he walked away. Splish, splash. More sloshing in the rain. He was now out of ideas on how to find his brother. He couldn't go home. He couldn't ask the underground connections - they'll eventually lead back to grandpa. What other choice did he have? 'Barhopping...' he thought to himself. 'They're usually great for underground rumors. And besides, I'll get a drink or two and no one will be there to stop me.' Grinning mischeviously at his future misbehaviour, he set on. "Hey, you!" one of the locals cried, grabbing the stranger's arm and feeling tensing hard muscle underneath. "Get out of here. You should know when you're not wanted - " he leaned over to whisper, " - Yun Lee." The young man neither flinched nor gave his trademark grin. But when the man went to twist his arm he was ready with a quick punch to the face followed by a spin kick in the same area, a kick that usually ended a Sourai Rengeki. The arm twist was reversed - the youth was the one twisting the older man's arm - then was slammed away. The young man's hood fell off, revealing it was, in fact, a capless Yun. He stood over his pursuer, giving a sort of head gesture Yang would give, then gave the bartender a thumbs-up sign. "Thanks for the drink, man. Gotta go find my bro' so he can scold me." he said jokingly. He tore out of the bar, running, seemingly gliding through the air as if he was on his skateboard. While the regulars were trying their best to act as if nothing has happened, they had to admit Yun was the kind of person to attract attention whether it was purposely or not. A few minutes passed. The bar returned to normal with only the whispers of the television to entertain them. "And just in today, we have reports that Gen, the Assassin Fist, was badly injured in a fight with Japanese foreigner Makoto Rindou. The fight took place earlier this day around noon in the back of the Lee family's grocery. Thankfully, no one had to be taken to the hospital, no any charges pressed, though injuries were serious. However, it is said that Ms. Rindou talked Gen into finding his grandsons - the Twin Dragons, who have now been reported missing for 3 days..." |