Two Halves Whole

by Melissa Abigail

  In the midst of Haruna’s thinking, she took in her surroundings and found herself on a familiar path. She had started up the street leading to the church. It was a weekday. It was certain to be empty, warm, and peaceful. Perhaps Marie would look for her there later, but being drunk as she was, she wouldn’t know her back from her front, let alone have the wherewithal to find Haruna there any time soon.

  Steps away from the entryway, the familiar hum. Haruna went for her phone and saw the name. A text from Ryu. Finally. She sighed, her smile wide with relief. He was the only one who she could turn to now.

  The fourth of November, 1998.

  It was the day of Ryu’s birthday, and though he hadn’t expected much, he anticipated one thing. Seeing them. Her. Haru-chan.

  “Your father… was a dangerous man. He’d been a major player in the Yoshinza-kai, not a word of this was a lie. But he turned away from all of it. All of it because of your mother. Because of you.”

  Ryu couldn’t remember it all as clearly as he thought he should, but it came back. It came back in fragments, fuzzy and pixelated like bad photography. Some images with no meaning or feelings attached. A small old house in a far, remote-seeming place. The word “lonely” came to mind. Ryu couldn’t quite see his mother’s face, but he heard the way she said his name, with the slightest roll of her tongue. And Ryu remembered sitting in the tub with the water meeting his chest, gazing in awe at his father’s tattooed back as he came out of the bath, tan skin and long hair dripping; a red-devil ogre mask leered back at him, both eerie and fascinating. From then on Ryu remembered thinking he wanted to be that magnificent too. The long, carefree hair. The glorious tattooed back and arms. And Ryu remembered that fourth birthday on that fourth day of the eleventh month and the cool touch of that silver necklace being looped around his neck. He remembered staring down at the pendant for the longest time.

  “It’s a dragon.” Someone said, in Japanese. “Don’t lose it. Haru-chan has one too.”

  Ryu felt tears sting at the back of his eyes. Haru-chan. He remembered feeling pure joy just at the sound of her name. Joy at knowing they both had the same of something. That’s where the similarities ended. She lived in the city, and she wasn’t lonely. And whenever she came over, she would play with him even though he was too shy. Ryu didn’t know how to play. He didn’t have anyone his own age to play with because people weren't around. He never understood why. But those times when she and her family came, when anyone came, were rare.

  It’s him.

  Ryu shut his eyes, forcing himself to refocus, staving off any emotion he thought he might show. He was transported back yet again to reality, their present. He was in the atrium, and there was Kitsune, the deceiving fox-demon leering at him, ready to spit deadly fox fire.

  "It was you…" Ryu said.

  Katsuo remained still, but Ryu saw a crease at the corner of his mouth. An involuntary smile.

  Of course.

  Ryu wondered how he had failed to make the connection sooner. Sure, Katsuo had aged a bit. Gained a little weight and muscle. He no longer had the perm of his younger self. He wasn’t wearing the oversized sunglasses, the flashy clothes, or outrageous, very ugly snakeskin shoes. He’d long shed the look of an original gangster. But it was the same man. The same man who had, among other men, showed up to his house tucked away in the countryside that day. Katsuo was the man, the one man who knew where the Debirus lived after Ryu’s father had trusted him enough to tell him. Katsuo was the man who had betrayed this information to Matsumoto because he had chosen revenge masquerading as “honour." He'd chosen revenge over his friend. He was the man who had led the others as they smoked them out, opened fire, slaughtered everyone.

  According to Katsuo, those were the events of November. Of 1998.

  Ryu swallowed hard, struggling to loosen the barb in his throat. He decided to choose his words carefully. He’d managed to hold himself together this long. He couldn’t lose it now. “Matsumoto ordered the hit. And you carried it out.”

  “Akuma knew the consequences of deserting. There was no choice.”

  “No choice?” Ryu rasped. “My father was your friend. You said he was—”

  “That has no bearing.”

  “But why didn’t I… how come I didn’t remember…”

  "When you were four-years-old you were programmed."

  "Which means?"

  "It means you were bred to be a weapon. You were stripped of past recollections and left with the ones that mattered."

  "You mean… I was brainwashed?"

  Katsuo sniffed. "This isn't Hollywood. Such things don't exist."

  But what did exist was slick deception and coercion, banking on Ryu being too young for the memories to stick… all of it starting with the lie that he was named after the dragon, that he'd been a destined soldier from birth. But Katsuo explained it clearly. Ryu had been made to feel he was abandoned and unwanted. He’d ask questions but be denied answers or be beaten by the goons if he became too curious. Being that small, it was easy to make a choice. It was easier to accept unresolved questions over punishment. It was even easier to forget it all, forget about having a past and having loving parents. In due time. Ryu had chosen this fate—he had chosen the lies of a sly thug like Katsuo “Kitsune” Kazama. Ryu’s parents had died that November day. The innocence of a four-year-old boy had died along with them.

  “You have every right to feel angry or betrayed,” Katsuo said suddenly, so evenly it was almost infuriating, “but Akuma had betrayed the Yoshinza-kai. His death was justified. Your mother—the others were in the way.”

  Ryu eyes bored back. He forced a smile. “What can I say? A bond is a bond, right?”

  “That's right. So you understand.” Katsuo folded his arms. “A mature response for a teenage boy. Impressive.”

  “What I don’t understand,” Ryu continued, scratching his head. “Why take out everyone? Why not just get my father and go?”

  Katsuo narrowed his eyes.

  “You should know better than to ask such an idiotic question. Gokudo. There is no halfway. A command is a command, and everyone in the house becomes a target. Even that bastard, Mitsukai Seijin. He tried to get Akuma to turn from us, but Akuma never would. Prison couldn’t do it. Assassination attempts from rivals couldn’t do it. It took knocking-up a gaijin—and now Mitsukai’s daughter has that spell on you too. Heh. How do they do it?”

  Ryu only watched Katsuo coldly, allowing him to sneer and speak. One thing Ryu couldn’t help but notice was the way Haruna’s father’s name was being thrown about casually. Katsuo must have known him well. But who was he, if not yakuza himself?

  “Love. That’s what they say it is,” Katsuo droned. “It's amazing what people would do for it. For the sake of it. They say it changes people too. You're like your father, Ryu-kun. It changed him. It changed you. And such a pity you’ve let it become your undoing as he did.”

  “Undoing? He tried to save you, and you killed him! Why should I give you or the Syndicate my loyalty?”

  Katsuo’s belly rattled from deep laughter. “You owe me your life. I spared you once already. Now look. You had a job—one job from our Boss. You hadn't carried it out and I saved you from that as well.”

  Ryu knitted his brows. "Saved me how?"

  “Enough questions.” Katsuo sneered. "There’s still a chance to redeem yourself. What do you choose?”

  Ryu hovered in place. He didn’t have to think long. It wasn’t the time to think. It was the time to act. He dropped to his knees, lowering his body until facedown, his forehead and palms pressed against the floor.

  “You're right. I’m a disgrace, and so was my father. Forgive us.”

  He heard Katsuo snort, but didn’t lift his head. Ryu could also hear his footsteps near. Maybe he’d take Ryu's gun. What was next? Would he take his life there and then? Surely Katsuo wasn’t going to make him part with pinkies like actual yakuza.

  “Ki-kun! T
y-kun isn’t home!”

  Ryu lifted his chin, his grovelling exhibition forgotten. He noticed Claudia, then the annoyed look on Katsuo’s face.

  “What do you mean? He didn't have any jobs today… unless…” Katsuo swore under his breath. Not sparing a second more, Katsuo snatched up his jacket, spun and stormed away and out of the house. Ryu wrinkled his nose as Claudia turned to peer down at him, her worry shifted to delight, her mouth pulling into a slick grin.

  “Oh, look at that. The Devil Hafu reduced to his hands and knees. I suspect that will be a permanent position for you from now on.”

  “Nah. Wouldn’t want to steal that position from you.”

  Ryu watched as Claudia's lips became a thin line. Ryu smirked, beyond smug. She was insulted, but not for long. Her frown morphed into another suspicious smile.

  “I heard an old Chinese legend once. About the dragon and tiger, both bitter rivals on a quest for power. The dragon is always so sure of himself, maybe too confident that no one can surpass him. What happens when the dragon sleeps? Might the tiger teach him a lesson? Might the balance be tipped in the tiger’s favour?”

  Then she turned. Then she left. The front door opened and closed for a second time.

  Ryu rolled his eyes. Claudia was full of it. He reached into his pocket and frowned. His phone. He had left it in his room. That’s when he recalled his original intention to find Haruna, and with all he’d discovered—more than ever—he needed to find her. All her talk of Street Fighter? By now it was crystal clear. She’d uncovered something as well.

  Ryu stampeded up the stairs to his room. There it was, his phone, neatly placed on his dresser. He snatched at it, finger hovering over the autodial when suddenly he noticed something odd. His text history.

  Can I see you? Please? It’s super important. Like, URGENT!

  No problem. Let's meet tonight.

  Where?? I’m at the church.

  Okay. Hold tight. I’ll meet you there.

  Ryu knitted his brows. What in the hell was this conversation? He’d never sent any of these messages, and he definitely didn’t remember receiving them either.

  But something ripped through him like a winter wind.

  No.

  No, it couldn’t be …

  The only one who had had the time, who had been in this very room since Ryu had left it, had been Tyler. And when Ryu thought back, he recalled that he’d left his phone not on the dresser, but on the floor. Ryu hit the autodial.

  Voicemail.

  He lulled into silent panic. Claudia’s metaphors about rivals. She must have known something. And that weird, creepy smile Tyler had given him? Tyler was the tiger on a mission. He was going to go above-and-beyond. He was going to finish the job Ryu couldn’t.

  Haruna groaned.

  It was just her luck that she’d forgotten her wallet at home and neglected to charge her phone. The battery waned to a pathetic level, and she was left with no option but to turn it off.

  Haruna leaned back into the pew, in the same spot she had once sat in beside Ryu. She gazed up at the church’s curved ceilings, chandeliers hanging from wooden bows, reflecting their light against stained glass. She couldn’t believe after all these years…

  Haruna removed her glasses, wiping roughly at her eyes and her face with her sleeve. She recited in her mind all the things she would tell Ryu. The contents of the letter. The pictures. Her grandmother’s confession. Haruna didn’t know much, even at this moment. But at least they weren’t related. She knew that much. But still—the tears wouldn't stop coming. Their parents had been murdered.

  Haruna jerked back, hearing a sudden loud creak and the sound of someone advancing. She turned her head sharply and her insides squirmed.

  “Been a while.”

  Haruna sprung to her feet and glared as Mani came to a stop a few feet away. Indeed it had been a while. She hadn’t set foot in the church for over a week, and it was wonderful to be away from him. Yet something about him being there had rendered her speechless. Both of them alone in this large building. It wasn’t the first time she’d been alone with him anywhere, but this time the thought of it sent her head spiralling.

  He didn’t smile. His long arms were fixed at his sides. “Your grandmother is now going after my family. Makes me wonder. Does backstabbing run in yours?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Don’t give me that fake innocent crap, Haruna. It’s in the news everyday!” His hands balled into fists. “Your evil witch of a grandmother is building a case against them—working with some conman who claims—who thinks Baba and my uncle are criminals!”

  “Well, aren’t they?”

  Just as Haruna had blurted it out, she let her mind work. So it was true. Her grandmother was involved with the case. Marie never discussed such things with her, and Haruna almost never watched the news. But it was a fact that the Vangelis’ were well-connected with the man who ran the orphanage, and that man forced Ryu to be some sort of thug. It was Ryu too who had been the first to say Mani's father was shady…

  Haruna’s grip tightened around her eyeglasses.

  Something wasn't right. Even she was well aware that she knew too much just by knowing that much. What was Mani's father up to? Haruna couldn't risk getting involved in that kind of detail. Haruna watched as something sinister washed over Mani’s face.

  “'Well aren’t they?' Well aren’t they what?” he sneered.

  “Look, never mind. I don’t know anything about your dad or whatever—"

  “No, Haruna, explain to me. What do you know about my old man?”

  Haruna stepped back. “I don’t know anything—I told you!”

  “You’re lying, aren’t you? You’ve always been a terrible liar.” Mani closed in. Haruna screamed as he grabbed her, and her glasses flew from out of her hand and clattered to the floor. “What does grandma know? Or wait—your nothing-boyfriend told you another lie didn’t he?”

  “Stop it—Mani!”

  “Does Grandma know you snuck out to meet him here?”

  Haruna’s heart skipped several beats. He knew?

  "And a confessional booth of all places. I thought you were classier than that."

  Haruna's skin flushed. Mani smirked. “What? Thought no one would notice a kid that unfortunate-looking hanging around? He stands out like a—”

  “Yo!”

  Ryu! Feeling a flood of relief, Haruna whirled around, squinting into the distance. She hadn’t heard him enter. Mani released her. She moved away only to become stiff for a second time. The guy stepped forward, more solid and less out-of-focus as he neared. He wasn’t Ryu, but an odd-looking Asian guy with a partial mohawk bleached white. He must have been a couple of inches taller than Ryu was and slimmer.

  “Is this guy bothering you?” he called out.

  “Stay out of this, leech!” Mani shouted back.

  “Sorry—what did you call me?”

  “Leech. You know? Like the little parasite you are?”

  By this point, the guy was much closer. He stopped in front of Mani, who puffed out his chest and leered at him, sizing him up.

  “Who do you think you’re look—?”

  Mani's mouth formed an "O." Gut-punched. He doubled-over and sunk to the floor. Haruna stooped to retrieve her glasses and gawked as Mani quivered into the fetal position, clutching his centre. She eased her head to meet the stranger’s eyes as he unclenched his fist and dropped his arm. It would have been logical to be frightened, but instead of fright, Haruna was in awe. She gawked, rapt, struck by how perfect, how breathtakingly beautiful he was. It might have been a weird way to think of a guy. And yet, with his clear skin and sleek white hair in the dimly lit church, he glowed. It was like looking at some kind of angel. An angel with a partially shaved head, but an angel nonetheless.

  He smiled.

  "You must be Haruna?" Instead of offering to shake her hand, he dipped his head in a polite, princely manner. “I�
��m Tyler, Ryu’s brother. He's told me all about you.”

  "Brother? You mean you’re also from Heaven? Er, the orphanage?"

  He nodded. She raised her brows, noticing his stretched, plugged earlobes.

  “Pardon me, but why are you here? He said he was coming,” Haruna asked.

  Tyler didn’t look off-put by her question.

  "Something came up, so he sent me instead."

  Haruna gave pause. Was it something related to Ryu’s double-life? The life he promised to leave behind? She hid her disappointment. "I need to see him."

  "I understand. Trouble is, you won't find him at the house. He isn't there. But don't worry, I'll take you to him. If you want."

  Haruna bit her lip. Something about all of this seemed dodgy. Ryu had never talked about anyone from the orphanage. He especially did not seem like the kind of person who would promise to meet, but change his mind on short notice. Show up late, maybe. Or declare in his clear-cut way that he wasn’t interested from the start. Then again, her phone was dead, and who knew if he’d tried reaching her. Haruna turned as Mani groaned pathetically from the floor and rolled her eyes. One thing she knew—she couldn’t stay here.

  She sighed. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  Fifteen minutes.

  That was all the time it took for Ryu’s suspicions to be confirmed.

  By that point, he had skidded around Wood Valley’s wretched roundabout, and tore onto the main road, shooting past the pine and maple trees. Through Main Street. Past Red Creek. Towards the big church on the other side of town. It was a race he needed to win. A race to find her. To stop him. It was just Ryu’s luck that it would begin to rain for the umpteenth time, testing the traction of his tires and the extent of his patience. But what else was new for this time of year, right? And fifteen minutes… fifteen minutes later, just as Ryu had found himself stuck in a traffic jam frustrating enough to trigger a Hulk transformation, Ryu received the text:

  Gonna take back the throne, brother. Red Creek and Main at 7. Come say goodbye.