I've wanted a reason to return to writing DOA stories for a while. Dead or Alive is one of the very first fandoms I created fanfiction for, a very long time ago. This story right here? It's just a little something I put together for fun.
If you enjoy it then I'd be more than happy to write a prequel of sorts to tell the story of how the characters reached this point. Without any further delay, let's begin!
Take My Hand
Two years was a long time – almost an eternity since it all began. Yet one thing held surety above all else. Emotions drove the hearts of many, and had the power to sway the direction of the world. Such was the way of things for one young man especially. He didn't know the reason why, but for him, resentment, hatred, a pain beyond all else, had turned into the truest of compassion.
In fact, it was such a thing that made today all the more nerve-wracking. Gazing into the mirror, taking note of his peroxide locks and emerald eyes, a quiet, nervous expression curving those chapped lips of his, he looked to the day ahead.
"It's okay, Mike…. You've got this…. Keep cool and collected…. This is only your first time seeing her since the tournament ended."
Dead or Alive Five – the most prominent fighting competition in the whole world. Thousands aspired to compete. Only a hundred or so made it to the qualifiers, and a mere sixteen to eighteen made it into the final tournament. The memories still rang clear – holding a special place above all else. In fact, it was those memories, frozen like pictures within the vast landscape of his mind that pushed him forward.
Checking over his outfit in the reflective glass, making sure his casual blue shirt and pressed pants were flawless, hair gelled, and shoes polished, the all-important silver pendant hanging loosely around his neck, Mike took a breath. There was no denying how high the tension ran. Running a hand across his smooth, well-kempt features, he tried hard to calm down.
"If anything… you showed me the way… and there's so much I still need to say to you."
"Okay," staring down at his watch, the young man nodded, making his way toward the door, past the cramped conditions of his bedroom, into the hallway of the apartment.
Stopping fast, his feet anchored to the ground as he entered the hallway, eyes scanning the chipped cream paintwork of the wall, thoughts lost upon the shouts of the neighbours next door. A nervousness, quiet and sickening in its own right, stopped him from going any further.
Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all – to arrange a meeting like this. Hand tightening around the bronzed door handle, Mike sighed, shaking the thought from his mind. It was stupid to back out now, after everything.
"She seemed perfectly fine over the phone… cheerful in fact."
Turning the handle, struck by the cool breeze as the door swung open, he gazed out into the open corridor. It was quiet, very quiet. That would do just nicely.
"Here I go. Now or never."
The park – it bustled with activity on this, a warm Friday afternoon. Camden, Northwest London, a place of endless travellers and inquisitive souls, a district lost within a sea of a sprawling capital city. Mike watched, contented and warm inside at the sight of people walking their dogs and families enjoying the sun together.
"I spent so long travelling with the tournament that it feels like forever since I've been home. It's nice to be back."
Footsteps echoed from the side, the familiar light thump of sneakers against concrete.
"Hey you! There you are! I called but you didn't answer. You should check your messages, silly."
That voice, so soft and innocent. A wonderful fusion of the coastal German accent and something delightfully, colourfully Asian, even as the words came out in smooth, paced English. Mike knew that accent well – it lifted his spirits, made this already fantastic day outside all the brighter. Yet at the same time, he couldn't deny the tinge of nervousness hidden underneath, too.
Hopping up from his place on the bench, he turned to greet that special somebody, giving a gentle, respectful bow of the head. "Hey Hitomi. You have no idea how grateful I am that you came…"
Everything about her was oh so picturesque, from the way she smiled, to her upbeat attitude, and goodness was she a remarkable sight. The way she managed to wear a simple white tank top and jeans while still making it look so good – it was a unique talent, for sure.
"My pleasure," she giggled, caring through and through, joining him as they sat together beside a tall, regal oak tree. "I was more than happy to come see you, especially since you left in the way you did."
Doubling down, her eyes of beautiful blue perhaps a little more serious than usual, Hitomi leaned in, placing a friendly hand upon Mike's shirt-clad shoulder. "I saw you in the crowd when I went up against Jann Lee in the final… but once the match was over you were gone."
Guilt crawled through Mike's stomach, forcing him to give a soft sigh as he reflected upon the moment. True, it was many long weeks ago now, but that didn't change the fact.
"Yeah… watching you reach the very end like that… seeing you fight so hard? It made me realize something, and that's one of the reasons I asked you to meet with me."
"Oh?" Hitomi paused – those gentle sapphires of hers pooling with emotion as she mulled things over quietly, the look upon her face spelling it out clearly as the daylight. "You know, Mike…. I was hoping to see you and Leifang after my fight…. When you didn't turn up I felt a little sad."
"That's part of the reason why," he countered, truthful and heartfelt, a hand held upon his chest. "I saw you get so far… after everything… after I'd been so mean… resented you for knocking me out in the qualifiers of the last Dead or Alive… and yet you kept on being kind to me."
"C'mon," Hitomi's hand tightened around his shoulder, her lips curving into a weak smile. "You know I don't hold it against you… I get why you were hurt. You'd thrown your heart into competing. Seriously though. You should be proud! After all, you did so well this time. You're one of the first Boxers to make it into the last eighteen fighters."
"That's true… but I didn't do as well as you."
It was time to be honest, time to lay his feelings on the line, to make all of his innermost known. No longer could he go around carrying such a heavy weight within his heart.
"I lasted until the Quarter Final. Kokoro's just too good. She might act ditzy but damn that girl hits like a train. Then there's you. A finalist in one of the biggest tournaments ever held. People the world over saw you, stood in that arena, putting everything on the line."
"C'mon," Hitomi chose to ignore his awe-struck words.
Instead, true to her kind nature, she cheered him on, gazing ahead with a gentle smile and an encouraging, playful poke against the chest. "I get the feeling you're trying to tell me something here. Stop looking so nervous and say it. I won't bite. Promise! There's no need to be scared of me, Mike Lennox."
"The truth is…."
It was now or never. If he didn't take this chance then it would be gone forever. Breathing deep, both hands rested within his lap, Mike steeled himself for the moment ahead.
"I made a mistake… and I'm sorry… for always trying to go against you like I did… for hating you when there was no reason to hate you. I was obsessed… twisted up by the desire to win… and it was so horr-"
"Shhhh."
The beautiful Eurasian girl silenced him with a finger upon the lips, smiling sweetly as she placed her other hand upon his shoulder, too. Leaning closer, their foreheads touching, she stopped just short, mere inches away. Her breath tickled the edge of cheek, minty and pleasant.
"If that's all you wanted, to apologize… then it's okay… because there's nothing to forgive. I was never mad at you. If anything… I just wanted to get to know you… to understand you. Mike… I wanted to be your friend."
Thank goodness. The pressure was lifting. Once it held so much weight, almost as though a stone pillar were crushing him. Now, piece by piece, the burden upon his conscience crumbled away. It left a feeling of freedom in its wake, bringing an honest, compassionate sigh to escape his lips.
"I just wanted to set things right, that's all. In truth, you've been one of my dearest friends in the past few months. I was so worried when I watched you lose... it broke my heart seeing you fall at the last moment… but it's so much like you. You got back up and you're training all over again."
"Of course!"
Hitomi edged back ever so slightly, flicking back her strands of beautiful brown with elegant fingertips. Hands clasped together, she tilted her head to the side, inquisitive and excited like a little puppy dog.
"Hey! I have an idea! Remember what Zack said when the tournament finished?"
Mike pondered, drumming a finger against his temple in attempt to regain the distant thought. "No… sorry," he shook his head, running a blank. "I left early, remember? I didn't catch any of the live coverage."
Giving another playful poke, the Japanese-German karate prodigy beamed with passion. "They're holding the D.O.A tag bracket of the competition at the end of the year. We should totally enter as a team!"
"You and me?" Mike gave the suggestion some thought, aiming one of his fingers against his chest in confusion. "I would've thought if it's a tag bracket of the competition you'd be entering with Leifang."
"Nope," she clarified with a whimsical shake of the head. "She's entering with Jann Lee. Apparently, this is the one time they're putting aside that rivalry of theirs. So…"
Jumping up, pumped and energetic, Hitomi paused for a moment, to give a short, respectful bow. "I'd be honored if you entered the competition as my partner, Mike Lennox. What do you think? Neat idea, huh? I bet if we worked together we'd do really well."
It was a foregone conclusion – the kind that didn't need a second of thought. Standing up to meet the slightly shorter lady, Mike showed his agreement with a bow of his own. "Count me in. I'll do my best. You have my word on that."
"Awesome!"
Swinging around, her back turned as she looked onward, lost in the sights and sounds of so many different people within the park, a bubble of cultures and nationalities, people of all different ethnicities and backgrounds enjoying the day, Hitomi punched her fists together.
"So! Since I'm here for a while…. How about we go grab something sweet? I'd sure love a piece of cake in hot weather like this."
A fine idea indeed. Moving to stand at her side, Mikey thought it over for a second, pointing off into the distance. "If we take a hike down that way, toward the side street there's a little bakery that sells desserts and coffee. I'll get something if you like? My treat."
Clasping her hands together, Hitomi squeaked happily. "I'd like that! Thank you so much!"
There she was again – happy and upbeat no matter the situation. It was one of the reasons he'd come to care so deeply about her. No matter the obstacle, Hitomi faced it with strength and compassion. It was how she'd risen through the ranks, and ultimately become one of the most recognized fighters out there, even at such a young age.
As they walked through the streets, people and places passing them by, Mike stopped.
Damn, talking about feelings acting up again. Lost within the forest of his memories, there was little choice but to reflect – to take stock of everything. Deep down, after every conflict, every battle, his heart, sometimes against better judgement, had crept, slowly closer to a place of no return.
"Hey…. What's wrong? You look a little troubled…."
Hitomi acted as his savior, the melody of her beautiful voice calling out in an almost musical radiance, guiding the lost fighter home. A sharp nod was the best he could give in response, the strongest showing of strength possible.
"I'm just thinking…. I'm fine."
If he was fine, then why was his heart beating so quickly? If there wasn't anything wrong, then why did the thought of spending the day with this cheerful, dedicated young lady, set his turbulent emotions alight?
"Then c'mon. Let's go!"
Warmth – the precious sensation of a girl's hand entwined with his own. Silenced by the beauty of it, all Mike could do was smile as his dearest companion took the lead, obviously clueless on where to go.
Regardless – he let her have it the way she wanted – following along. This day alone, preserved in stone, was enough to bring a sense of contentedness. He knew now, above all else, how he truly felt.
Hitomi? She meant everything to him. The friendship she'd given and the support she'd provided? They were enough to help change things for the better. That's was why, right now, in the midst of this very special moment, Mike gave her hand the softest of squeezes, a signal of sorts..
"Hey…. Hitomi?"
Almost as though she'd read his mind, the girl beamed. "Yep. What's up?"
More than anything, Mike wanted to say it straight. This was his chance, the perfect opertunity. Those four special words, regardless of the outcome, were all it would take to let the truest extent of his feelings to leave the dark and find the daylight.
A heat – intense and deep-rooted, coursed across his body. He didn't need a mirror to see the redness building within his cheeks. He just knew.
This was it. All he had to do was say it.
"….It's nothing…."
Yet he couldn't do it – could not for the life of him risk changing something so special. This girl, with her love of cooking and her almighty martial arts prowess, was near enough perfect in every way, the finest comrade a guy could ask for.
There was no way he'd ruin that, even at the expense of this swirling feelings.
Just friends was just fine. To spend days beside Hitomi like this? It was more than he could possibly ask for, and far more than he deserved.
"Oh well," Mike whispered - his eyes dead ahead as they crossed the street, hand in hand. "Maybe someday…. Who knows?"
End
Thank you for taking the time to read this through until the end. If you liked it then you're more than welcome to leave some feedback. I value the opinions of all my readers. I'd also be happy to write more if you want to see it. I figure I should stay in the DOA mood since I'm practicing for the Battle Royal competition later this year.
Keep on supporting Dead or Alive, and I'll see you in whatever I write next.