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When Street Fighters Aren't Fighting

[Sagat]-one-

[The New Challenge]

ver 1.4

by: TJ (note: yes, it's a fighting game fic. yes, I know his real name is Vega. Get over it.)

Sagat's days became very mechanical after leaving the nearby Shadoloo hideout, and Bison with it. He had absolutely no desire to see anyone or deal with anything other than himself.

When you're over seven feet tall, such policy is easily enforced.

After having been champion of so many National Muay Thai tournaments, the federal government had given him a plot of land. Granted, it was a small area, and normally size would be a very important concern for someone built like Sagat, but in this case. . .

This plot of land, located in the foothills of the mountains, had a small river running through it. As it ran from the higher elevation, it flowed off a modest twenty foot cliff, creating a beautiful cascade directly in the middle of the land as it poured into a pool of calm water at the bottom. There, the water would ripple gently until it was carried away towards the ocean. The entire area was segregated by the tropical trees of the region, their great leaves rustling quietly as the wind blew.

Even someone with such simple drives and pleasures as Sagat could appreciate the obvious aesthetic beauty. But now. . .even this seemed.. . .trivial.

Sagat slept in a cave tandem to the cliff of the waterfall. Not being much of a carpenter, he shaped the walls inside through repeatedly beating on them until they took on a more square, domesticated look, going so far as to make shelves in the walls for decorations.

Said Sagat had begun to rise from his rough mattress in a very groggy state, not totally aware of the world around him. With mechanical efficiency achieved only through ritual, he grabbed a folded towel on his way out of the cave. The morning light had not yet reached high enough to peak over the trees of the area, so Sagat did not receive a blinding light upon coming to the mouth of the cave. He simply continued walking towards the pool and the waterfall, stumbling slightly on the uneven path.

He stumbled a little more harshly. "Oowoah!" In an attempt to break fall, he got tangled up for a moment in his towel, causing him to pivot off balance even further. "Augh!" he fell on his butt, yet in a trained fashion, he broke into a backward somersault roll to lessen the impact.

"Gah!"

Right over the edge of the pool.

SPLASH

Sagat's great body plunged into the very cold waters of the pool, shocking him into full awareness rather suddenly. He also realised the flow of the falls was pushing him deeper into the pool. His lungs burned already, not having gathered a fitting breath before his swim, and so he struggled to reach the rocky walls of the pool. After a moment of floundering his large head found the surface of the water. He gasped for the lovely taste of air.

He frowned. (Not the best way to wake up,) he decided. He wiped some of the water from his face, realising he had lost his towel, his eye patch, and his boxers in his trip. (Oh, well,) he thought, beginning his morning cleanup.

His senses had been penetrated from its former haze by the sequence of falls moments earlier. Not much seemed to interest him as he struggled internally for several weeks. Bison's lure had proved too powerful for his will; in Ryu's absence Sagat's quest for the fight became more and more confusing. He frequently looked down at his chest, still seeking the answers. He thought Bison would show him, but he eventually showed where his priorities were. So he left.

He didn't expect the ganster/terrorist to follow after him to try and ‘keep him in line.' He was probably thought of as small potatoes to Bison, but even if he did, he relished the possibilty of a fight. Maybe that would show him the answers he was seeking.

Finishing his tasks, he emerged from the pool at the rocky edge, taking slighlty more care in his step as he made his was towards his cave. As he entered the mouth, he reached for another towel and began the long task of drying his great frame.

Some time later, Sagat could be found in trunks behind the waterfall, beating on the stoney cliff with his bare fists as the water fell behind him. Whenever his knuckles began to ache from the pressure he placed on them, he would turn and soak them in the waterfall for a moment, then continue.

Later still, he could be seen practising his fist burying Tiger Blow against the flow of the waterfall. Every time he leapt at the waterfall with his powerful technique, the waterfall would push him down into the pool powerfully. It was like watching some twisted nature re-enactment of Salmon trying to swim upstream.

During his practise, Sagat's keen sense alerted him to others entering his viscinity. He lashed out again at the waterfall, then dove into the pool for a countless time. As he surfaced, he saw three men in business suits approaching his pool.

Two of them, he recognise almost immediately. One was the Muay Thai Councilman, who currently organised the national sport's tournament sturcture, and its place in physical eduaction in the schools. He also oversaw the instruction of the fighting art, himself a multiple champion in his day. The other was an officer of the government, a public minister who educated (force fed) the populus on what their goverment was doing, and why it was good for them. He was present when the land was presented to him. The third he didn't recognise. They stood, apparently waiting for him to approach them.

Sagat hoisted himself out of the pool, not failing to notice the men balk a bit as he stood to his full height. He grabbed the towel, drying his hands as he approached the men.

The Councilman smiled lightly. "Sagat. . .your practises are as traditional as they are engrossing." He offered his hand, which Sagat took after drying his own hand. "Enjoying your. . .spoils?"

"So to speak," he agreed in a quiet but powerful voice. "Why are you here, gentleman?" he said, impatient already.

The Minister spoke, cutting the Councilman off. "Sagat, this is one of the top officials of our Investigations Bureau." The mentioned man, nodded slightly. "He oversees cases regarding terrorism, border violations, internal affairs, and national security. He has brought to our attention some. . .concerns over your position."

(Great,) he thought. "And?"

"And many of those concerns have recently linked you with interests of our national security." The Minister paused, sizing up Sagat. "Specifically, an international crime ring. . .now normally, we try our best to ignore the situations until they threaten our own security becau-"

"Because they keep money passing through this country?" he said firmly. "Patriotism indeed."

"You mock, but you are the one drawing this attention to yourself," the Minister said. The Councilman cut him off, however.

"Sagat, tell me. . .where are your loyalties?"

The mountain's upper lip stiffened. What a question to be asked at such a time, but he would not lie, not to political dogs, not to scum, not to anyone. The older fighter deserved his respect as well, but he couldn't give them a firm answer. . .or could he?

"They are -not- with Shadoloo," he said confidently to the elder Muay Thai fighter. He could see them visibly relax after hearing that, yet the investigator seemed unsatisfied. "But that's still not why you are here. You want something from me. . ," he said in a dangerous voice.

"Yes, but nothing unreasonable," the Minister said.

(Heh, that's what Bison said.)

The Councilman began. "Sagat, we are facing an all time high for national interest in our pride, Muay Thai. It seems that many of the public speak of it more and more, creating a sense of. . .national pride we havent been able to weild before. We want to capitalise on this wave of interest. And you, champion of champions, victor of most of the organised tourneys and all of the unorganised ones, you're at the focal point of that interest." The council paused for a moment. "Yet there have already been leaks about your. . .association with terrorists to the international press.

"This is bad, Sagat. We can't have the champion of our national sport associated with terrorism. Not now, when it could be used as a powerful tool."

Sagat frowned, and begun to wring the towel dry. The Minister gulped as he watched the towel being strangled, unable to keep from imagining his neck in place of the towel. "So, what do you want of me? I already told you I don't follow those scum."

"That's not enough," the Ministers harsh, high voice cut in.

"What he means, Sagat, is that. . .well, as the champion for so long, we need you to have a better public image. More . . .attainable, and understanding to our people."

"So you want me to become a traffic cop, or something?" Sagat thought with mirth, turning to face the falls. Public image indeed.

"Not exactly, but nothing unreasonable, considering what this country has given -you-," the Councilman answered. Sagat's gaze fell upon the water as he digested what he just heard. They were right, he decided, and he was being childish.

"Very well, what did you have in mind?" he asked, much less tension in his voice.

"Our records of you show you do have a record of secondary education. . .an impressive one. Especially in World History and in English linguistics."

"We have much to learn from them past," he said, slightly defensive about his college days being brought up. "And yes, I did attend the community college, what of it?"

"Well, here's what we were thinking. . . ."

The insects of the flowing stream began to collect around the pool as the light of the day began to reflect off its glassy surface. A light breeze rolled over the area, kicking up some dust from the path near the area and causing the trees to dance. A calm, peaceful serenity seemed to permeate the land.

"YOU WANT ME TO WHAT!?!?!!?!"

___________________

Exactly one week later, Sagat, in a pair of khaki pants, a polo shirt unbottoned completely and dress shoes, walked into a classroom full of teenagers carrying a notebook in his hand. He quietly set the notebook down on the desk in front of the chalkboard. He then turned, grabbed a stray piece of chalk from the tray and began writing his name on the board in big letters. He then turned to face the children who were dumbstruck with the huge man that just walked in.

"I am Sagat, you may call me Mister, or Teacher Sagat," he said forcefully. "I will be your Home room and English instructor for the semester."

_________________________

C&C welcome

I kinda threw this together in about 20 minutes, so i expect it to read a bit jerky in this early version.

lemme know if you'd like to read more.

-TJ
-CSY head
-FFIRC head

[ryougaecho@abraxis.com]