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Takeda blew out a puff of smoke as he waited impatiently from his hiding spot in an alley just off of one of Shibuya’s many crowded streets. It was a rainy Friday night in Tokyo. Spring. Office workers and salary men just getting done for the day and highschoolers flooded the streets. Some shopping, some looking for a bit to eat with their friends. A few, he noticed, were still wearing their school uniforms. Takeda never got the luxury of that. Going to high school, that is. Not many Takahashi’s did. Most in his family, like himself, only ever graduated middle school before being dragged into the scum filled underbelly of society that the Yakuza thrived in. Not that it mattered much to Takeda. Homework and cram school didn’t sound all that appealing. The friends and clubs maybe, but why wish for things that you can’t have. Besides, he had a job to do. One that would hopefully put a little extra cash in his pocket and him and his parents into a better part of town. In an apartment that didn’t smell of mold and leaky pipes.
The sixteen year old took another drag off his cigarette. Seriously, what the hell was taking so long?
There had been a big fuss going around some of the higher ups lately. Someone was going around killing high ranking members of the gang, disrupting business deals, crashing meetings, carving a long, bloody trail through the Yakuza. Someone claiming to be Taira. A Takahashi was rebelling and doing a damn good job of it too. People were spooked. Only problem was now the rest of them were paying for it. So some of the other members came knocking on his parent’s door and gave them an ultimatum: help deal with the problem and be rewarded, or die. Truely an offer you couldn’t refuse. So Takeda volunteered. He’ll be the one to try and weed this rouge Takahashi out. Thus he went from runner and small time enforcer to full fledged Yakuza. Oh, what a world. What a world.
Takeda shifted his stance, the fabric of his shirt and yellow hoodie rubbing uncomfortably against his back. Even after months the pain from the ink being pricked into his flesh still lingered faintly, ink far too deeply embedded to ever be removed. A permanent reminder of what he is; of what everyone in his family is. The Taira were noble samurai warriors and kings. The Takahashi’s are petty thugs, crooks, and murderers. And everyone knew it.
He flicked the cigarette bud onto the ground and shoved his fists into the pockets of the black leather jacket he wore to keep the rain at bay. His plan was simple enough: start a rumor amongst the family that he wanted out too, that he was fed up with being treated like a street rat and being spat at by people who thought themselves better. It was easy enough. He was never known for keeping his opinions to himself and he often butted heads with other gang members for various reasons. His mouth being the main one. It was an easy lie to sell because if he really thought about it, it wasn’t even a lie at all. The only reason he went along with any of this was because it was all there was for him. He could do without all the lying and backstabbing that came with the Yakuza. He’d pay a million yen to just be a normal teenager going to a boring highschool instead of pelting drugs and cutting throats. But he couldn’t. His life was the Yakuza and now even that was being threatened. He had to put an end to it. For his family. Even if it meant betraying one of their own. Hopefully his ancestors would understand.
It didn’t take long for someone to reach out. An unknown number contacted him saying that they wanted to meet, that they wanted his help freeing the rest of the family from the Yakuza’s ironclad grip. Thus the plan to meet up and jump this man, his cousin as it turns out, was set into motion. Takeda himself didn’t even have to do anything, just lure the guy to a meeting place where other members of the gang were hidden and let them do the work. He didn’t have to spill a single drop of blood for this one. Still, a small knife in his back pocket couldn’t hurt.
“Takeda.” A voice from behind him made him jump.
The young man spun around to face the source of the voice and was met with a man with a red blindfold covering his eyes. He was dressed in some sort of red and black body armor with the Taira crest engraved on the shoulder pads and gloves, a sword strapped to his back. This must be him. This had to be him. Kenshi.
“Shit. You nearly made my heart stop.” Takeda laughed nervously, “Kenshi, right? You make a habit of scaring people half to death?”
“If you were more aware of your surroundings I wouldn’t have startled you.” was the only reply given.
“You’re the one with the blindfold on.” Takeda quipped back without really thinking, “Wait? Are you actually-”
“Blind?” Kenshi finished for him, “Yes. It’s a long story. One that’s best not shared here.”
“I know a spot that is more secluded if you want to have a chat. It’s only a short walk from here.” and where everyone else was staged for an ambush, “Do you need me to guide you or anything? I don’t see a cane.”
“I don’t need one so long as I have Sento. Lead the way.”
Takeda paused in astonishment and his eyes darted to the sword on Kenshi’s back. Everyone in the family knew about Sento, the blade their ancestors lost when they fell from power. They all knew it was out there, somewhere, for someone to actually manage to get their hands on it? Takeda never put much thought into the stories about it. The older members of the family saw it as a symbol of their lost honor and that if they could ever reclaim it that honor would somehow be magically restored. Those that were younger, Takeda included, only saw it as ancient history not worth wasting energy on. Kenshi was maybe only eleven or so years older than Takeda himself, and yet somehow cared enough and was crazy enough to actually go out and find the old sword. And lucky enough to succeed.
“Sento? That’s Sento? How on Earth did you even manage to get a hold of that old thing?” Now Takeda was interested.
That earned him a slight smile, “A very good friend. Someone you’ll meet soon enough. Others too. I’ll explain what I can soon enough.”
“R-right,” Takeda was bright back to the reality of why he even went to all the trouble of setting this whole thing up in the first place, “It’s this way. A few blocks past Central Station and down one of the back alleys.”
The walk was made in silence, Takeda steeling his resolve. This wasn’t the first time Takeda has done something like this and he knew it wouldn’t be the last but suddenly the cold reality of what he was about to do was setting in. He was leading a blind man to his death. He was leading his blind cousin to his death. If there was ever such a thing as hell, he was surly about to make a very cozy spot for himself down there. And the man had Sento strapped to his back. By tradition the person with the ancestral blade was the leader of the family, making this the biggest sin Takeda could possibly commit. If there was anything out there worse than a Yakuza, Takeda was about to become it. But he had to. It was the only way to keep everyone else he cared about from being killed instead. He had no choice.
“You’re conflicted.” Kenshi’s voice ripped through the silent air. He hadn't even noticed that they had already walked the distance to the back street the other gang members had prepped.
Takeda turned to look at the blind man that seemed to be able to see him so clearly, “That obvious?”
“You have a good heart Takeda. Troubled, yes, but in time I know you’ll rise to challenges laid out before you.” Somehow this man made comfort seem like a lecture, “This world is a lot bigger than you realize with dangers that go far beyond just the Yakuza.”
“Maybe,” Takeda sighed, “But that’s not my problem. My problem is that there is some blind swordsman carving his way through the Yakuza, causing hardships for the rest of us. We’re receiving threats daily.”
“That’s why I need more allies. Help me, and we can both make sure the Yakuza never bother our family again.” Kenshi told him, “You can start with the ones you had hiding all around us now.”
The color drained from Takeda’s face, “How did you-?”
“Wire tap on your phone,” A large black man, an American, stepped onto the street, and as he did cop cars came to surround them, “You’re not as clever as you think you are, kid.”
“Now then,” the large man cracked his knuckles, “Easy way or hard way, they both end with you in cuffs.”
That’s when all hell broke loose. Suddenly there was movement everywhere. Blades and fists and shouting. Takeda tried to scramble out of there but the large federal agent had managed to pick him up by the scruff of his neck and land a solid gut punch, dropping him almost immediately and knocking the wind right out of him. The rest of the Yakuza fared no better. Somehow, even blinded, his cousin was able to dodge, parry, and slice through his combatants with ease, welding Sento like the deadly weapon it was always meant to be in a deadly dance of blood and gore. Like that blind samurai from that Johnny Cage movie that had recently come out. It was all over just as quickly as it had begun, with Kenshi shaking the American’s hand after a job well done.
The large man than turned his attention to Takeda, grabbing him by the arm and hoisting him up roughly, “Alright, now for you, little man.”
“Go easy on him, Jax. He didn’t know what he was doing. We talked about this.” Kenshi urged his companion, Jax apparently.
“All that audio we’ve got from those phone calls would beg to differ.” Jax rebutted, “Besides, it’s not my decision to make. FBI involvement ends here. He’s being turned over to this country’s authorities. I get you want to protect him, and I respect that about you, but I don’t think they’re going to be lenient.”
“Then you might as well just kill me now.” Takeda tried to get out of the death grip Jax had on him, but it was all to no avail, “If you think I’m even going to make it to a jail cell then you’re fucking dreaming. Do you have any idea what those animals will do to me? It’ll be a mercy.”
Kenshi looked like he was about to say something, maybe plead for another option, but was interrupted by a noxious cloud of green smoke and a man in yellow robes. He appeared from nowhere, thanked them for all the fresh souls and then demanded Sento so he could harvest it. And suddenly Takeda was at the bottom of the priority list. Suddenly it was kombat and things Takeda couldn’t explain. Flaming skulls and Sento glowing blue as the sword came to life. Jax was trying to help but he seemed just as caught off guard as Takeda was and way out of his depth in this fight. This guy and Kenshi definitely seemed to know each other. And hated each other. Kenshi demanding to know how this man escaped his prison and how he got to Earthrealm, the man giving some condescending answer that Takeda didn’t quite pick up on.
The combatants were evenly matched but the man with magic played dirty. When he saw an opening to lunge at his cousin after distracting him with a barrage of flaming skulls, he lept. And, for what reason he’ll never know, so did Takeda. Suddenly, without even thinking, he was on the man’s back and the small knife that he had kept in his pocket was now embedded into this man’s shoulder. The sorcerer let out a hiss, flung the smaller and lighter Takeda off of him, and swiped at him with his metal claws, slicing through Takeda’s face.
Takeda let out a cry of pain as his back hit the ground, his hand moving to cover the gash that now gushed blood across his face. A wave of blue spirit energy rushed past him and slammed into his assailant. Suddenly Kenshi was between them, blade drawn and rage clear on his face. Next to him was a seven and a half foot tall specter, dressed in full shogun attire, a skull mask covering the lower half of its face, an identical spectral Sento in its hands.
“Enough Shang Tsung! This ends here!” Kenshi called out.
Shang Tsung sneered, holding his knife wound and glaring death at the two of them, “No. I don’t think so. Thank your little friend there, for now. His interference has won you this fight. You won’t be so lucky next time. Sento’s souls will be mine, and with them, yours. I look forward to all the experiments I’ll get to perform on them.” His gaze turned to Takeda, “Yours especially.” And he was gone.
Takeda wasn’t paying any attention to what was happening after that. He was lucky to catch what he did after getting clawed across the face. There was blood. Mostly his. A hospital visit. Stitches. Arguing. Phone calls. More arguing. Takeda at least managed to apologize but it probably didn’t mean anything given what he was apologizing for. That Jax guy was freaking out. Takeda would be too but the crash from all that adrenalin mixed with whatever painkillers the doctors gave him after receiving a massive amount of stitches across his face, stretching from just below his eyebrow, across the bridge of his nose, and ending beneath his eye has left him feeling numb and tired. Before he knew it hours had passed and he was sitting alone in an interrogation room, where he would spend many more hours just sitting and waiting.
It gave him time to think about what the hell just happened. About that man in the yellow robes. About the scar that was now running across his face. About Kenshi and Sento. Mostly though, he thought about how much of an idiot he was. Not for attacking that Shang Tsung character. No, that man had it coming and he’d do it again in a heartbeat, even if he didn’t have any of the details as to what the heck was going on in the first place. He felt stupid for even putting this cousin in that situation to begin with. Takeda knew the Yakuza weren’t going to let up on his family for solving a problem they felt like they had caused to begin with. He was so stupid for being so gullible. He should have known better. At least his cousin was fine. At least Takeda hoped he was.
Admittedly Takeda jumped a bit when the sound of the heavy door opening broke the silence and the wall of a man that was Jax entered the room. He asked if Takeda was alright and Takeda was honest with the man. Everything hurt and he could really use a smoke right about now. That actually earned a chuckle from the man who called him a punk before telling him that, though he wasn’t sure what was going on because Kenshi refused to be anything but cryptic, he was lucky he didn’t die that night. And that he was damn lucky his cousin knew a few people in some very high places. He wasn’t being charged with conspiracy to commit murder, but he wasn’t off the hook just yet either. There were some people here that wanted to meet him and that, in exchange for not being arrested, Takeda was going to agree to whatever it was these people asked of him.
He was brought out to the lobby where Kenshi and two others were waiting. Another man dressed in yellow with a scorpion tattoo and the other dressed in gray with gray hair. Both wore sleeveless shinobi garb with facemasks. The larger of the two new faces, the one with the tattoo, looked him up and down as he approached with Jax. Sizing him up. Though his appearance was intimidating and stern, his eyes were kind.
“Takeda Takahashi,” the man spoke, “You’ve survived an encounter with the sorcerer Shang Tsung. Impressive. Reckless and unwise, but impressive. I am Kuai Liang, grandmaster of the Shirai Ryu. This is my brother Tomas. Kenshi has explained the situation to us and we’ve come to a decision on how to move forward.”
“Do I get a say?” Takeda asked.
“No.” Kenshi, Kauai Liang, and Tomas all spoke in unison.
“Given what you have seen and the threat the sorcerer still poses, it’s best if you remain somewhere he and his allies can’t find you, with people that can train you.” Tomas explained, “The Shirai Ryu will provide both.”
“Originally the plan was to take you before the Wu Shi but Liu Kang thought this the better option. I won’t question his judgment. He hasn’t been wrong thus far.” Kenshi added, perhaps trying to explain but really only confusing Takeda more, “I need to head back to the States with Agent Briggs to try and sort this whole mess out. I trust you’ll take care of him.”
“The Shirai Ryu will teach him all we know, as Lord Liu Kang has instructed. Should he complete his training, he will be one of Earthrealm’s finest defenders,” Kuai Liang said with determination, “That I promise.”
Kenshi nodded seemingly satisfied with that answer, “Send Harumi my regards and congrats on the engagement.”
He then placed a hand on Takeda’s shoulder, “Don’t worry about your parents. I’ll see to it that they are safe. You won’t appreciate this now, but you will later. Do everything Scorpion asks of you. I’ll be in touch when I can.”
With that he was gone, leaving Takeda in the care of two strangers, a mess of confusion, and a very bitter taste in his mouth.
“It will be difficult but you will be okay.” Kuai Liang reassured him in a gentle tone, “In time you will find the clan to be your own. Until then you will train and you will learn. You’ll have some catching up to do but we’ll keep the pace slow until you are ready.”
“... Alright.” It was all Takeda could muster to say, unable to look the man in the eye.
“We’ll gather your things and leave for the compound immediately. It’s not safe for any of us to linger openly in a city like this.” Tomas said before a smile crept into his voice, “I hope you still have some fight left in you after your encounter with the sorcerer because training begins at 5AM and you start by fighting me. Loser has to clean the dojo.”