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Origins of the Spanish Ninja:Tastes Like Red Wine	By : lilwitch Category: +S through Z > Street Fighter Views: 3420 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: WARNING: Graphic violence and abuse depicted in this story. Read at your own discretion! I do not own Street Fighter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Author's Note: I don't normally make these, but you've noticed I haven't been able to post as often as I like! This year has been very busy and...tragic for me, so it's been difficult. I'm sorry, but know that even if I don't publish, I'm still continuously thinking and writing on this story! I am not stopping until it's done and that's a promise.
I dedicate this chapter and this story in loving memory of my greatest fan and friend.
She loved and understood my passion for Street Fighter, Vega, and video games like no one else! She will always be my greatest muse.
Life continues and so must the story!
I marveled at his words and he put his arm around my shoulder, leading me to a back door, hidden in the wall. I wondered just how much stuff he had hidden in this place.
When he opened the door, I discovered it was not so much a room as a sort of shelf; and on it hung every piece of weaponry imaginable. I walked passed each weapon, hungering to touch it; I noticed some star-shaped discs.
"Ah, Shuryken." he said. "Those are throwing stars, used in the art of Ninjutsu."
"You mean like...ninja?" I asked and my heart raced.
"Or shinobi, as they are commonly referred to in Japan."
I saw every kind of mace, flail, axe, and sword, and while I was familiar with all of them, I found that I just was not as drawn to them. I stopped at what looked like a glove with three long blades coming out of it like claws.
"Kurasu," he informed me, "Or claw, also used in Ninjutsu. They can have any number of blades on them, though three is also common. Here, Vega. Try it on." He lifted it from the display and slid it over my left hand.
"How does that feel?" he asked, buckling the strap around my hand. I ran my finger carefully down the sharp blades and admired how they shined in the dim light. My lips curved into an irrepressible smile told him all he needed to know. I thrust my arm out, stabbing at the air and Remy flinched. I imagined his pretty mouth bleeding, just as mine had done.
"This, Vega, is a tool of the ninja. It is a weapon like any other except in how you use it." I continued punching and stabbing at the air.
"So this is how he will fight? Pretty boy can't really fight so he uses a weapon? Do you find this fair, Gauldera?" Remy pushed the hair from his face.
"Fair? Fighting is never fair. It is simply a matter of who wins and who survives. Do you think you'd do any better?"
Remy folded his arms and shifted his weight with a scowl.
"I don't need anything so...primitive."
Gauldera grinned and patted my shoulder. I could see the pride gleaming in his eyes.
"It is a matter of perspective. Vega is a vicious fighter, a gallant matador if I've ever seen one. You may have power, but he has hunger. So, boys, how about it? Care to try a round?"
"Mon dieu! Are you crazy? He'll kill me!"
"What's the matter, Remy? Are you afraid? What about your power, hm?" Gauldera chuckled. I smirked at his shocked expression.
"There will be no maiming during this match."
My heart sank. I longed for revenge after my repeated humiliation at his hands and I longed for his blood—just a little bit was all I wanted—just enough to mar his perfect face, enough to let me savor his defeat. I was not one to stay down long, however, when an idea came into my mind.
"Pity. I wanted his blood." I said, peering into his mysterious blue eyes, running my hand over my claw with a grin.
A look of terror, and perhaps some anger shown on his normally emotionless face. His delicious lips quivered.
"Well, if I can't have your blood, I'll settle for your secrets."
I knew that more than anything, I wanted to know him. I wanted to understand him and this was one way I could do it when conventional socializing failed.
"What?" he cried.
"Remy, I think Vega has a wonderful idea. For each hit made, you will answer a question. Anything he asks, and you may do the same of him."
"I won't fight this...freak!" he spat and I grimaced.
Marc Antoní walked towards him and I could see Marc Antoni's body tense. He grabbed Remy by the shoulders and Remy's eyes widened. I smiled knowing now he would see Marc Antoni's wrath.
"You will fight him! The Master is very anxious to see what progress he is making and I won't disappoint him." his voice was low and his face was inches from Remy's. "I won't tell you again."
Remy jerked free from his grasp and swore at him. He launched a kick at Marc Antoní, but the older man blocked it.
"So, you want to play that way, do you?" he said, raising his fists and smirking at the boy. His eyes seemed unnaturally dark now and they had an ominous gleam. "En garde,"
I moved away from them while they took their stance.
"You are as stubborn as Vega, Remy. I had hoped that I had broken you of it by now."
"I do not take orders from stupid old men and I do not bow to your 'master'."
"Yes, I know. Change your attitude and someday, you could be a high-ranking assassin in his army."
"Never!" yelled Remy, sweeping a high kick at Marc Antoní's face, knocking him to the ground. To my amazement, he just rubbed his head with a chuckle.
"That is the fire I admire about you, Remy. Now, shall we continue?"
Remy spat at the ground and Marc Antoní rose to his feet. Remy took his stance before me, cold blue fire gleaming in his eyes.
"Let's go now, eh, pretty boy?"
His fists began to glow with blue light once more. Not to be defeated again, I let my instinct guide me and I jumped to one side of the cage, grabbing onto it and clinging from it like it was a vine.
I felt the rush, growing even more hungry to make him talk to me. Using the chain-link to bound off from, I pushed myself off and kicked him. The force of the kick knocked him to the ground and I pinned him there, kneeling over him with my claw at his throat. I smiled at him, savoring the moment.
"What's your sister's name?" I asked.
"Go to hell!" he hissed.
I held the claw against his throat so that the edge of the claws pricked against his milky flesh.
"Now, Remy. You know the rules!" chided Marc Antoní.
Remy looked away from me, a darkness washed over his bright blue eyes.
"Émilie, her name was Émilie."
I could see a tear forming in the corner of his eye, but it did not fall. Instead, with a great cry, he grabbed my arm, flipping me over and pinning me on my back. I was stunned for only a moment.
"Why?" he cried, yelling into my face and I laughed.
"What?" I smirked.
"Why do you do this?"
I sighed, rolling my eyes.
"You know why. I already told you; ask me something else."
"So, spoiled rich brat still has to get his way? Why me? Why?"
"Because you are beautiful; I have never met anyone else as beautiful as I am."
He was quiet suddenly, searching my eyes for something, maybe some deeper meaning, and I read his frustration in his furrowed brows and pursed his lips. I could have reached to brush his turquoise tresses from his face with a free hand, but I did not dare.
"Beautiful!" he snickered after pausing a moment, almost as if he were coming out of a spell. "Nobody talks like that! Gah! You disgust me." he pulled off me and I smiled to myself.
There was a measure of hope in his voice that perhaps he did not hate me as much as he professed. I certainly needed a friend at that moment, if only someone to talk to while I was there.
Remy grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to my feet roughly, the force sending me backwards against the cage.
"My mother does,"
"What?" he glared.
"She talks that way,"
"Oh, right, and I suppose she is beautiful too?"
I moved from the cage and stood before him.
"As a matter of fact, yes." I replied, folding my arms. "But why do you ask? I told you she is already. Just as I know your sister was."
Again the ferocious gleam in his eye returned at the mention of her, and I knew I had stirred his passions.
"Don't talk about my sister!" he exclaimed, "You know nothing."
"I know that you love her, like I love my mother," I could see him start to speak. "But there is no shame in that." I interjected before he could say anything.
His hands were balled into glowing blue fists at his side, his breathing hard. I felt the heat radiating, the blue waves blowing softly through our hair. I stood mere inches from his face, unafraid of him. I knew the truth and so did he.
Remy shoved me, and I raised my fists, ready to go again.
"Light of virtue!" he cried, the balls of energy headed straight for my precious face. I raised my clawed hand and I felt the push of the energy as it hit, but this time I did not fall.
"Very good, Vega! You're learning."
My mentor stood there, arms folded, watching us square off. I was so focused on Remy that I had almost forgotten he was there.
I had almost no time to react while his legs came up, flipping back and towards my face. Blocking again, I felt almost no impact. I swept my foot under him and he fell back, stunned.
Again, I had my claw to his throat, threatening bloodshed. Remy contorted his face, grimacing.
"What now?" he hissed.
I shrugged with a victorious grin.
"Whatever you want."
"Marc Antoní Gauldera works for a crime syndicate called Shadowlaw and was trying to recruit me. I refused and now, he holds me here. He is trying to recruit you." he leered at Marc Antoní, and I glanced up at him, reading his face for some kind of answer, and he laughed heartily. I looked down at Remy with a laugh.
"I said to tell me something true."
"You don't think it's true? Why do you think he's so eager to train you?"
I looked at Marc Antoní again and he regarded me with a beaming smile. I shook my head.
"I've never heard of this ‛Shadowlaw'. Why would he care? I'm only trying to protect my mother."
"You'll protect her more if you leave." cried Remy, clinching his teeth.
"What?"
"Leave!" he exclaimed. "Before you can't!"
I took the claw from his throat and fell back on my heels, laughing.
"Think about it, Vega. I see it in your eyes. You trust him about as much as I do."
He was right, especially with regard to my mother, I did not trust Marc Antoní at all—he was a snake in the grass and I was determined to keep him from biting her—still, I was not about to tell him that I agreed.
"I think you've had enough for tonight, boys. We'll resume tomorrow."
"I've had enough of you, Gauldera!" he exclaimed Remy, rising suddenly and charging towards the man. He pummeled the older man to the ground, striking blows to his face. All of Remy's rage was not enough to take down Marc Antoní and Remy was no match for his strength.
Marc Antoní pushed him off, sending him backwards. He staggered and continued towards the man.
Marc Antoní punched his face in a series of quick blows. I watched him try to block the man's attack, but it was not enough. Marc Antoní kicked him in the stomach and he fell on his back, coughing and sputtering. Seeing him laying there holding his sides, Marc Antoní laid one final blow to his face. I saw Remy's beautiful face running with blood from his nose to his lips.
"I'll break you yet, Remy! If you won't bend to the Master's will, you'll bend to mine."
Marc Antoní started to kick him when I threw myself in front of Remy.
"Enough!" I yelled, "He's had enough."
"Well, aren't you a clever boy?" his smirk seemed menacing, and his words dripped with poison. "Trying to save your new friend now, are we?" I shrugged off the chill it gave me with a feigned nonchalance.
"I don't have friends. He simply needed my help."
"That's enough, Vega." the sharpness of his tone almost startled me. "Don't get between me and my punishments again, or you'll suffer the same."
"Is that a threat?"
"No, Vega. It's a fact. You will learn to listen to me or there will be consequences...and in future, I am the one who decides who's had enough. Remy, clean yourself up and go to bed." Marc Antoní said, casting barely a glance at the beautiful bleeding boy as he went out the door.
With Marc Antoní gone, I gently raised him up and he propped himself up against the stone wall. I found a rag and began to wipe away the blood from his face; his eyebrow, his nose, and I hesitated at his lips, colored with red.
"Thank you, Vega." he said, "but I think I can do the rest." he gave me a weak smile.
"You're not going to try to kiss me again, right?"
I chuckled,
"No."
I sat next to him, and we were quiet for a while. I stared into space and he stared at his hands.
"Vega, what I said earlier about Marc Antoní..."
"Yes?"
"It's true."
TO BE CONTINUED...
- 14
- 15
- 16
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Origins of the Spanish Ninja:Tastes Like Red Wine