Chapter Text
A Touch of Red
By evolution-500
Genres: Horror/Friendship/Romance
Feedback: Always welcome
WARNING: This story contains violence, coarse language, mature themes and disturbing imagery. Reader discretion is advised.
Disclaimer: KILLER INSTINCT is a property belonging to Rare and Microsoft while RESIDENT EVIL is a property belonging to Capcom. I do not own any of these characters.
Chapter Fifteen: Shattered Dreams
She hated waiting.
Tapping her foot on the white floor, Claire leaned back against her chair as she fidgeted, watching Dr. Gupte's door with all the alertness of a cat.
God, come on already!
Squirming, she crossed one leg over the other, blowing her bangs from her forehead with an anxious though irritated huff.
What was taking so long?!
Closing her eyes, Claire pinched the bridge of her nose.
'Patience, Claire,' she told herself. 'You'll get your turn soon.'
The girl leaned back, staring upward at the ceiling in boredom.
God, if only she had a Gameboy or something to play with, maybe even a magazine or newspaper.
Anything to distract her from how nervous she was.
Following Orchid's match, the fights after had become much more frantic and aggressive, some lasting between mere minutes to mere seconds depending on skill level, and Claire was really beginning to feel the intensity in the air as one by one the number of contestants started to whittle down.
She couldn't believe how quickly the number of fighters had dropped with the passage of time, and she hoped - well, prayed, to put it more bluntly - that she would be able to keep on participating.
Two contestants had to leave due to health problems, with one sporting a bad stomach flu, while another fighter - a woman in her twenties with long and thick curly brown hair - had to drop out after getting herself pregnant.
One contestant in particular had gotten into a heap of trouble with security after he had drunkenly wandered into the sealed-off Spencer Estate, though curiously, he had made claims stating that he had no idea how he had even gotten there in the first place.
Whether or not there had been any truth to his claims, nobody knew; the only thing that everyone was certain of was the growing pressure that was felt amongst all, and with it, a greater sense of uncertainty.
Whereas the early period of the tournament had started off relatively light, with some combatants engaging in friendly banter and interactions, even in some cases drawing up the odd friendship or romance, more recently, there was an abrupt change, and now everyone was on edge.
Sitting quietly in the waiting area of Dr. Gupte's office, Claire glanced around as she lazily swung her legs, adjusting herself on the chair, her bottom feeling sore.
God, if only she could talk to someone!
Ever since Piers had left, everything felt...colder, for lack of a better word.
Lonelier.
Both Billy and T.J. largely kept to themselves following Piers' departure, although the latter became increasingly more morose compared to earlier; by all indications, Piers' words had deeply affected the boxer, and now he seemed to be struggling with that.
Claire had tried to get T.J. to open up on one or two occasions, but he would either just shrug her off or flat-out ignore her, at one point bluntly telling her to mind her own business and to "get lost."
Since then, she had tried giving the boxer space, although she did let T.J. know that she would always welcome an opportunity to talk with him if he ever saw fit to speak with her.
As she turned in Billy's direction, Claire let out a breath.
With Billy, things were somewhat...complicated, for lack of a better word, and a little bit tense.
Where Claire had tried to lend an ear to T.J., by contrast, she found herself unwilling to do the same for the former Marine.
There were a few times where he had tried to speak with her, but Claire would find herself putting some distance between them.
Perhaps it was pettiness on her part that kept her from completely forgiving Billy, but the truth was that part of Claire was a little worried about the hinted troubles that Orchid had alluded to.
After all, did she really want to know what dark secrets he had, even when she had her own matters to worry about?
Looking in the former Marine's direction, Claire watched as Billy leaned back against a wall, his arms tucked behind the back of his head while he stared up at the ceiling, his expression troubled.
More than once Claire had found herself tempted to reach out, only to find herself refraining from doing anything.
Orchid's words suggestively lingered at the back of her mind, making the girl hesitant and wary, if not conflicted.
Part of her wanted to know just how bad Billy's situation was.
On the other hand, perhaps it was for the best that she didn't know the details; people's lives were complicated enough, and God knows, Claire's troubles were more than enough to take on by herself.
It was one thing to lend an ear and comfort someone at their most sad and vulnerable, but how much would one want to know until they find themselves neck-deep in the other person's problems?
As sympathetic as she was, even she had to admit that there were limits in what she could do and would be able to do for anyone, which made it all the more sad to think about.
Squirming in her seat, Claire guiltily glanced away from Billy, slumping in her chair.
No matter the decision she made, someone was going to get hurt regardless, and she felt terrible about it.
Claire glanced up as Billy ran his hand through his dark hair, sweeping it back, his fingers straightening it, his eyes no longer looking in her direction.
A feeling of gloom hung over the girl, her shoulders drooping.
Since their last meeting, Billy became reluctant to continue speaking with her, and whenever she saw him, he would have a dejected look on his face, which made the pain that she felt even worse.
Closing her eyes, Claire raised a hand to her face, her fingers massaging her forehead.
God, why did things have to be so complicated?!
Try to help someone, and she would potentially run the risk of getting involved with someone's legal troubles.
Try to ignore them, and then one becomes the biggest bastard in the universe.
No matter who won, someone would lose.
As Claire sat in the waiting area, she deliberated on whether or not to approach Billy.
Scrunching her brow up indecisively, the girl bit her lip as she wrestled with her conscience.
Finally, her shoulders drooped.
Perhaps it was for the best that she ended up minimizing contact with him as much as possible, that way she could focus on the tournament ahead and who she might have to face in the future.
And yet, the guilt remained.
Pulling her hand away, Claire let out a tired sigh.
God, she really hated waiting.
Glancing around the waiting area, Claire allowed her eyes to roam, taking in all the other fighters one by one.
Orchid was patiently seated alone, separate from all the other contestants, ignoring everyone, her face coldly composed.
Watching her, Claire's brows furrowed as she tried making sense of the woman in green.
Aside from her one or two interactions with Claire, Orchid never made any efforts to socialize with any of the fighters, if at all; she was cold and distant, and from the looks that she would offer on occasion, Orchid regarded them all as if they were mere annoyances to be dealt with.
Like buzzing flies, or like gum sticking to the bottom of her shoe.
Orchid rarely spoke a word, her brown eyes possessing a sharpness that made the teenager reluctant to even engage with her, even on a friendly note.
Part of Claire was put off by the cold yet quiet arrogance that the older woman exuded, and more than once she felt annoyed by her presence.
'Still,' Claire thought, 'Orchid can't be all that bad, right?'
At least, she hoped that was the case.
Allowing her eyes to roam again, the girl continued to observe the other fighters.
Jago was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his eyes closed, looking as if he were asleep, while Thunder was silently reading a National Geographic, focused on some article within.
Letting her gaze linger on the former, Claire recalled Orchid's warning about him, her curiosity growing.
Out of all the people that she had interacted with, Jago had always been the friendliest of the bunch, so soft-spoken and kind that the idea that he had killed anyone, even if perhaps unintentionally, seemed at odds with the type of person that he was.
It was possible that Orchid was just filling her head with bullshit in order to turn her against him, but why would she have such animosity toward him if that were the case?
What purpose was there in spreading potentially poisonous lies about someone that, as far as Claire was aware, had done nothing to provoke said-individual?
Then again, it was always hard to know what a person was truly like; some people were masters at hiding their true selves, even their monstrous sides, and because of that, it was easy for anyone to be fooled by a person's facade.
More than once Claire debated whether or not to broach the subject in private, and more than once she found herself feeling conflicted.
The last thing that she wanted was to alienate the monk and risk offending him...and yet...a part of her wanted to know.
Claire stared at Jago for a long time, then averted her eyes, turning her attention to the rest of the waiting room.
Glancing at the other fighters, Claire was struck by how different they all were from one another. Some looked so ridiculously over-the-top, while a few were just plain boring.
One guy looked like a grizzled biker, while another looked like a goth chick.
One figure in particular, however, drew Claire's immediate interest - a young boy that sat just about a foot away from her, wearing peculiarly old and anachronistic-looking clothing.
Turning in his direction, she studied the boy beside her, curious as she took in his features and clothing.
Lean and wiry, with some slight musculature, the youth looked to be around the same age as her, eighteen or nineteen-years-old, with long scruffy red hair that was all spiked up and pointing in several different directions. Nothing involving hair gel, as far as Claire were aware, but more of an unkempt bedhead sort of appearance.
A blue headband was wrapped around his forehead, the boy dressed in a unbuttoned short-sleeved green shirt that revealed a red top underneath, the fabric thin and silky, his pants an ugly orange, with a pair of buckles tightened around the hems.
Adorning his wrists were a pair of brown leather cuffs, though his most unusual features, however, were the outdated Cavalier boots that he wore, which were worn with age.
Taken together, the boy looked woefully out of place next to the other fighters, if not somewhat out of time, for in a lot of ways, he looked like a young pirate.
As if sensing something was amiss, if not that he was being watched, he turned to face her, allowing Claire to get a good luck at his eyes, which were bright green, full of mirth and kindness, though tinged with a hint of mischievousness.
"Hello," he greeted, his voice lacking any identifiable accent. "Can I help you?"
Blinking rapidly, Claire smiled, slightly blushing. "Uh, hi! Ah, s-sorry. I just couldn't help staring at your clothes."
The boy blinked. "My clothes?"
"Yeah," Claire nodded. "That's a cool outfit that you're wearing! I love the whole pirate theme you have going on."
Puzzled, the boy's eyes widened slightly before giving a shy smile, letting out a light laugh. "Ah, thanks, I guess," he said as he scratched the back of his head.
Claire then held out her hand. "I'm Claire. Claire Redfield."
The youth reached out, shaking the offered limb. "The name's Edson."
The girl blinked. "'Edson'?" she repeated.
"It was my Pa's name, and his Pa's before that. It means 'son of Edward'."
Claire thoughtfully digested the information, nodding as she pulled away. "Sounds like you have an interesting family."
Edson chuckled. "Not really." His features fell slightly as he continued, "He had passed on ages ago, so it's just me, my little sister Ellie, my dog Dinger, and my girlfriend Madeleine."
Claire felt a flicker of disappointment upon hearing about the latter, for in some ways, it almost felt as if fate was rubbing her nose in it.
A shame, to be honest; he looked cute.
Claire nodded. "I'm sorry for your loss."
He smiled. "Thank you. It was long ago, but still, your condolences are appreciated."
Shifting in her seat, the girl turned to face him directly, surprised by how much more relaxed she felt in his presence. "So you have a dog?"
His smile brightened, the boy nodding. "Yeah!"
"What breed, if you don't mind my asking?"
"A German Shorthaired Pointer," he answered. "Very energetic, but he's a good boy." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a cheap-looking brown wallet and extracted a photograph from it, handing it to her. "Here's a picture of him, along with my family."
Taking it, Claire studied the picture curiously.
In the photograph, Edson was standing with two girls. Wrapped around his midsection in a tight hug to his right was an adorable nine-year-old munchkin with curly dirty blonde hair, a cute little button nose, a huge smile, and a pair wide matching green eyes, the girl dressed in a pink skirt and yellow top.
The other girl to his left, Claire noted, was older, looking about the same age as Edson, if not a year younger, and pretty, with an oval face and long, shoulder-length peroxide blonde hair, wearing a white dress.
Seated in front of them, however, was the happiest-looking dog that Claire had ever seen, with an eagerly wagging tail and his tongue hanging out, his expression making her aweing as she cooed, "Awww! He's so adorable!"
"Thanks!"
Claire studied the picture for a long time.
'They look so happy together,' she winsomely thought.
"You have a beautiful family," Claire said as she handed the picture back to its owner.
"Thank you," Edson replied. "We sometimes get on each other's nerves, and God knows, I can be a handful sometimes, but we manage. Seeing Ellie and Madeleine's smiles always makes my day, and I can never get enough of them."
As he spoke, Claire noted the warmth in his tone, along with the unmistakable look in his eyes of pure adoration and love as he gazed upon the picture, the sight of which was so heartwarming that Claire couldn't help smiling herself.
"You are very lucky," she nodded.
He gave a charming laugh, causing her heart to flutter as he shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm more fortunate than most, I guess," he replied, putting his picture and wallet away. "How about you?"
Claire shifted in her seat as she took out out her wallet, pulling out a photograph.
"I live with my brother Chris," she replied, handing it to Edson. "He'd been looking after me ever since our parents died."
Edson glanced up from the photo in surprise. "They died?"
"Yeah."
"What happened?"
"Car accident. I was too young to remember it, though. What about your parents?"
"Ma had died shortly after giving birth to Ellie," Edson explained. "Pa died a few years later of cancer."
Wincing, Claire lowered her eyes to the floor. "I'm...I'm so sorry to hear that."
He shrugged again. "It'd been rough, but we'd managed." Edson studied the picture, nodding thoughtfully. "Looks like a handsome fella."
"He is," Claire nodded, her eyes lighting up in mischief, "though I do try to keep him humble by reminding of his shortcomings, along with his place."
"Yeah?" Edson chuckled.
She grinned. "It's a little sister's job, you know."
He scratched his cheek. "Don't know about that. Ellie's pretty well-behaved."
"Just give her a few years," she winked. "By then, I'm sure you'll need to fend off all the boys with a stick. She is sure to grow up into a real head-turner when she's older."
Edson leaned his head back and uttered a groan at the thought while Claire giggled at the boy's apparent dismay.
"God, I'm not looking forward to when that day comes." He glanced back at the photo, tilting his head slightly. "Your brother is a police officer?"
"Yep. He's a Point Man for S.T.A.R.S."
"'S.T.A.R.S.'?"
"Yeah. 'Special Tactics And Rescue Services'. It's an elite police unit here in Colorado."
"Ah." Handing the picture back to Claire, he pressed, "So what brings you to the tournament?"
Claire's smile fell. "My brother and his partner - ah, his police partner - ended up in a car accident."
"Another car accident?" he said in surprise.
"Yeah. A hit-and-run. The police are still looking into the matter."
"Are...are they okay?"
Claire shook her head. "They're alive, but...they're both unconscious. I've been doing what I can to support them, but between the hospital bills and all the other bills that keeps piling up, well..." She trailed off, feeling too exposed and vulnerable. Tucking some bangs behind her ear, she glanced up at the boy. "So, uh, what about you?"
Claire watched as the normally upbeat air dissipated in its entirety around the boy, a slight gloom coming over him as he spoke. "Times have been pretty rough for me and my family," he admitted.
"Really?" He nodded. "How...how bad is it?"
A sigh escaped from Edson's lips, looking like one who had the entire world on his shoulders, a feeling that Claire herself could relate to. "Pretty bad, to be honest. Madeleine and I are struggling to make ends meet, but all of the jobs that are available don't pay enough as it is. I had to drop out of school in order to pay for my little sister's school fees, and the bills are just growing more and more, so much so that the bank is threatening to take away our home."
Claire's eyes widened. "What?!"
He shrugged. "It's true. Even worse, Children's Protective Services are threatening to take my little sister away from me."
The girl stared pityingly at the boy, noticing the sag and strain in his shoulders, along with the weariness in his eyes. "Have you...have you tried contacting a lawyer?"
He shook his head in a slow arc. "I've been in contact with Colorado Legal Services, but I still need money in order to pay for everything. I saw an ad for this place on TV, so I kind of figured, why not give this place a shot."
Hearing his story made the girl's heart ache as she watched him.
"I...I'm sorry to hear about your troubles," Claire softly said.
He shrugged. "It is what it is, but still...thank you. For what it's worth, Claire, I'm sorry about your brother. I hope things go well for you."
Claire smiled. "You as well, Edson. Good luck."
"Good luck to you too."
As the two teenagers sat together in silence, Claire found her mood brightening.
She had no idea what would happen next, but hey, at least she had made a new friend.
An audible crack filled the arena as a man's nose was broken, staining the floor with blood as it gushed out from his nostrils.
Flinching at the sound and at the sight, Claire shifted uncomfortably as the fighter collapsed onto the floor, drawing the cheers from almost all of the fighters.
Standing along the sidelines waiting for her turn, she found, was an altogether different experience from watching from the safety from the audience seat, and part of her found herself regretting her decision to participate.
As Ultratech medical personnel carried the defeated challenger off on a stretcher, Claire found herself drawn to the blood-stained floors, watching as personnel scrubbed and cleaned as much as they were able while also picking up broken teeth.
Averting her eyes, Claire wrung her hands, looking down at her feet and at the floor.
"Are you alright?"
"Huh?" Glancing up, Claire was surprised to see Jago beside, causing the former to smile. "Oh, hi Jago!"
He nodded. "Hello, Claire. Are you alright? I couldn't help noticing that you didn't look well."
She gave lopsided grin. "That obvious, huh? I'm okay, thanks for asking. I just can't stand the sight of blood."
The Tibetan monk cast his eyes over to the arena. "Understandable. It is never an easy thing to witness."
The teenager then gave him a curious look. "Does the sight of blood bother you as well?"
He shook his head. "Not really. I just have a stronger constitution compared to most."
"Lucky you." Claire then shifted her foot around, crossing her legs. "Out of curiosity, Jago," she began slowly, "would it be alright if I ask you something, well...personal?"
Claire noticed him tense slightly, his eyes puzzled yet wary as he slowly replied, "...You may."
The girl then brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "Why did you join? From what I know, you don't seem like the type of person that would want to be a part of something like this."
She watched as the monk thoughtfully considered the question, nodding as he crossed his arms.
"There are...many reasons," he spoke enigmatically. "Chief among them, however, is my desire to help others."
"How so?"
"By getting to know my opponents and getting them to question why they are fighting."
The girl blinked rapidly, confused by the answer. "But...how does fighting help with that? Isn't hurting people against the tenets of your religion?"
"It isn't about inflicting violence," Jago clarified. "It is about making a connection and fostering understanding and growth, in both yourself and in your opponent. True strength isn't just muscle and bone, Claire - in order to not fear the Tiger's bite, one needs control. Martial arts is a discipline as much about mastering the body as it is the mind and soul, about understanding. It is about discovering not only your own strength, but also helping your opponent discover theirs as well. Knowing your own limitations, learning where you went wrong, and learning how to transcend them."
Claire pondered his points, her ponytail swishing from side to side behind her. "Well, when you put it that way, I guess that makes sense." She gave him a questioning look. "Is it hard?"
"Of course," Jago nodded, looking over to the arena. "'Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional.' Nothing is ever gained through doing nothing, Claire. Hardship is a part of life, and as such, it needs to be faced directly in order for one to progress and succeed."
Claire shrugged. "True, I suppose." She then gave the Tibetan monk a curious look, his eyes drifting along the various rows of fighters. "Is this your first time being in America?"
He nodded, keeping silent.
"How do you like it here?" she asked.
Jago remained quiet for a moment, his eyes roaming. Finally, he spoke up.
"It is certainly...different," he replied, seeming a little stiff and somewhat uncomfortable as he glanced at his cramped sides. "It is very noisy here compared to back home."
"I can imagine," Claire nodded. "The culture shock must be something else, huh?"
"It is a lot to take in," Jago admitted, nodding in agreement.
"Is this anything like how you imagined?"
He shrugged, eying the holographic jumbotron. "I had no expectations, really. That being said, there are...many wonderous things here. I can see why many come here, especially my countrymen." The Tibetan monk mournfully shook his head. "It is a great pity what is happening back home with the Chinese."
An air of melancholy surrounded him for a moment, an exhale escaping from his lips.
"Do you miss being there?" Claire gently asked.
The Tibetan monk gave a tentative nod. "A little, I suppose."
"Home is where the heart is, right?"
He gave a small chuckle. "I suppose that's true."
"I bet your family is cheering you on, right?" Claire winked with a smile.
The girl then sensed Jago tense slightly, looking uncomfortable.
Hesitating, Claire's smile fell. "Don't you have family waiting for you?"
Jago clicked his tongue, then let out a breath through his veil. "No. No, I'm afraid not."
As he looked back to the arena, Claire found herself watching the monk.
"So," she said slowly, drawing his attention, "you have no family? Like, at all?"
He nodded. "That's correct."
"None whatsoever?" As the monk shook his head, Claire gave him a sad look, reprimanding herself for crossing such a sensitive line. "I'm...I'm so sorry to hear."
Jago casually shrugged. "It is what it is," he said in acceptance, looking not at all offended by her questions. "None of us can dictate how we are conceived, nor what our parents have done in the past. We can, however, look ahead to the future and determine our own paths. Though I may not have either a mother nor a father, I am blessed to have been raised by my Order, and I will always be thankful for that."
Claire smiled. "I'm glad that you have such an optimistic view of things."
"It comes with perspective," Jago replied, looking ahead to the cage. "Many years ago, I was a troubled child with no family. I was often angry, confused, even at times bitter. There had been many times when I felt like black clouds were perpetually hanging over me. There have been...many times, where I was tested, and there were...many times where I found myself questioning my place in this world." His eyes softened as he continued, "But...in retrospect, I am more fortunate than most. Were it not for the Abbott of my Order, I would not have overcome that darkness that plagued me, and now I wish to help those who have been where I had used to be, and help them attain enlightenment."
Claire stared in wonder, taken by the steely determination that the monk possessed.
"That's incredible!" She complimented.
Jago hummed, politely nodding. "Thank you."
"I mean it! That's pretty badass!"
He gave her a curious glance, quirking a brow before giving an amused grunt. "...Interesting expression."
As Jago stared at the bloodied floor of the cage as it was cleaned, the girl then pointed to the golden teeth-like decorations on his light blue veil. "Out of curiosity, Jago, what is the story with those?"
"Hm?" Looking away from the cage, Jago gestured to his veil. "This?"
"Yeah!"
His eyes warmed, his veil concealing his smile. "These fangs that I wear symbolize the Tiger. In my Order, the Tiger is a dangerous animal, but it is also a symbol of awareness, kindness and confidence. These qualities are considered necessary for walking the sacred path, and for that reason, all practitioners must be willing to sacrifice all sense of self in order to follow the path of the Tiger. Only the path of the Tiger Spirit can guide us toward enlightenment by becoming one with it, in mind, body, and soul."
He then turned his attention back to the cage, his eyes and form taking on a more rigid and serious air. "And it has led me here."
Claire was silent as she absorbed his words, watching him with growing fascination.
Looking over to the far left, the teenager spotted Orchid and watched the older woman as she studied her nails.
'What is your deal?' Claire wondered.
Was there some history with Jago that she didn't know about?
Looking back and forth at the two standing figures, Claire silently regarded them both, her interest piqued.
Based on what little she knew, both Jago and Orchid were quiet individuals and excellent fighters, but in many ways, the two were polar opposites of one another.
Whereas the former seemed a very pleasant and sociable person to be around, Orchid by contrast seemed far more guarded and secretive.
Whereas Jago was modest and conservative in his appearance, Orchid was far flashier and bolder, more than comfortable with her own body and sexuality based on her clothing alone.
Whereas Jago exuded a sense of warmth, by contrast, Orchid exuded more of a sense of coldness, an aura of mystery surrounding her.
In many ways, the two of them couldn't be any more diametrically opposed.
And yet, Claire couldn't help noting, there did seem to be something more beneath the surface.
Something that she wasn't seeing that connected the two.
As Claire continued to compare and contrast the two fighters, she was suddenly struck by how similar their eyes were; not only were their eye colors the exact same shade of brown, but their very shapes were the same as well.
But even more, they both had the exact same dark intensity and inquisitiveness that suggested so much more going on beneath the surface.
Blinking rapidly, the girl's brows furrowed slightly, squinting, looking back and forth between Jago and Orchid.
It can't...are they...?
Looking down, Claire gave a slight scoff, shaking her head in dismissal.
She was overthinking things.
Looking back to Jago, Claire found herself wanting to know more about the mysterious monk. There were so many questions that she had, especially about this "Tiger Spirit" that he worshipped, but as she opened her mouth to speak, she unexpectedly heard the announcer call out her name.
"CLAIRE REDFIELD!" As the spotlight fell on her, Claire raised a hand, blocking out the light.
"Looks like you're up," Jago commented, placing his fist into the palm of his hand and respectfully bowing. "Good luck, Claire."
She smiled. "Thanks, Jago."
Looking ahead with a shaky breath, Claire pushed through the throng of people, making her way slowly toward the arena.
Upon entering the cage, the girl glanced at the bloodied floor, wincing.
Even though much effort had been made to clean it, the cleaning solution wasn't able to get the blood off.
Swallowing, Claire looked around the arena, her heart pounding in her ears as she found herself reflected on the screen of the hovering holographic jumbotron, the teenager looking like a startled deer caught in the headlights.
"EDSON DREAMS!"
As the name echoed across the aisles, a spotlight fell on an individual in the crowd, drawing Claire's attention.
It can't be! There's no way that it-
The thought was abruptly cut short as Edson moved his way through the crowd, moving toward the cage.
As he stepped inside, the boy froze, looking equally startled as he found himself staring at Claire.
"FIGHT ON!"
Swallowing, Claire shook her head. "I...I didn't know that this would happen."
"Neither did I," Edson admitted, scratching the back of his head. "I should have looked at the schedule." He looked meaningfully at her. "I don't...I don't want to fight you, Claire."
Claire shook her head. "I...I don't want to either." Looking conflictedly at the screen, then at the other contestants, the girl struggled to think of a solution to their predicament.
Finding nothing, Claire closed her eyes, exhaling as the realization of their situation sunk in - they had no choice.
"I...I'm sorry, Edson," she apologized, getting into a fighting stance, raising up her fists, feeling guilty as she did so, "but...I...I need to do this...for my brother..."
Part of her expected him to look taken aback, if not outraged.
Maybe offer some contempt-filled sneer or make some remark that would change her opinion of the young man, if only to somewhat justify her hitting him.
Instead, Edson gave her a kindly and gentle smile, his eyes showing no trace of either anger nor hurt, only sympathy and understanding.
"I get it," he nodded. "You have people depending on you, just as Ellie and Madeleine are depending on me. I don't want to fight you, Claire. You really seem like a nice person. But..." He let out a breath, squaring his shoulders, "I'm not backing down, either."
The two teenagers stood stock still in a standoff, both focused on one another.
Sighing, Claire shook her head. "I guess this is it."
Edson nodded. "Seems like it. May the best fighter win." In a gesture that caught Claire by surprise, he held out his hand.
Blinking dumbly, Claire relaxed a little, then obliged, taking his hand and shaking it. "Good luck, Edson."
Edson smiled, showing no malice whatsoever, his eyes kind and gentle. "Good luck, Claire."
Once the two of them finished, the teenagers took up their respective stances.
Claire heard the fabric of her fingerless gloves straining against her knuckles as she tightened her hands into fists, her heart beating loudly in her chest and ears.
Finally, the announcer uttered that one, fateful word with a resounding roar that echoed.
"READY!"
And with that fateful last call, Claire stepped forward with balled-up fists, meeting her opponent head-on.
A few hours later...
Claire sat beside the still form of Edson as he lied on the hospital bed, his heartrate monitor beeping, her heart aching at the sight of the bruised and battered figure.
Watching the boy stir, Claire straightened in her seat.
"Ugh." Opening his eyes, the boy winced, lifting a hand to block out the light. "...Claire?"
"You're awake!" She exclaimed, turning to face him. "Thank goodness. Are you okay?"
Edson sat up from the bed, massaging his forehead. "Ugh. What-where-?"
"You are in the recovery wing of the castle," Claire explained. "I am so sorry about what's happened! I swear I never meant to hurt you!"
Edson raised a placating hand. "It's okay. Honestly, it's alright." Groaning, he rubbed his bruised and swollen left eye. "I gotta hand it to you, Claire, you can hit pretty hard."
Claire rubbed the back of her head, sweat-dropping as she laughed lightly in embarrassment. "Yeah, sorry about that! My brother showed me a thing or two."
"Your brother, huh? What, does he punch cars as part of his training and eat engine parts?"
"Boulders, actually," Claire quipped.
The boy let out a light laugh, wincing. "Crap, I think you might have busted a rib with that kick of yours."
Flinching, Claire lowered her eyes. "God, I'm sorry."
"It's fine." Edson adjusted himself on the hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling. "How long have you been here for?"
Claire shrugged. "Ever since you lost consciousness."
The words lingered, the teenager digesting the information.
"So I lost, huh?"
Claire fidgeted slightly, biting her lip as she averted her gaze, feeling uncomfortable.
Taking a deep breath, Edson's eyes drooped slightly as he exhaled. "I lost," he dejectedly spoke.
Hearing the defeat in his voice and seeing how Edson slumped in the hospital bed, Claire couldn't help feeling a churning in the pit of her stomach, her eyes tearing up.
"I'm...I'm sorry, Edson," she spoke, trying to keep the trembling out from her voice. "I know how much this fight meant to you. I...I didn't know that this..."
As Claire trailed off, she let a tear fall. "I'm so sorry."
Edson shook his head, his eyes not showing any anger nor envy at all, much to her incredulity, only filled with pity and sadness. "It's okay, Claire. It's not your fault. I'll just need to find another way, that's all."
Wiping her eyes, Claire swallowed, willing herself to meet his gaze. "What...what's going to happen now?"
Edson pondered the question. Exhaling, he gave a small shrug. "I don't know. Since I've lost, I'll have to go back home, I guess. In terms of what comes after, well..."
The words trailed off, his eyes empty and dejected.
Claire sniffled. "L-Listen, um," she said slowly, drawing his attention, "w-would...would it be okay if...if we could stay in touch? Do you...do you have...a phone number or email or-?"
The girl watched as Edson shook his head. "We had to cancel our internet and telephone this week."
Hearing that made Claire's heart break even more, the guilt of her victory over him overtaking any sense of triumph or joy she might have had.
"But," he said slowly, drawing her attention, "that being said, you are always welcome to send a letter."
Blinking in surprise, Claire then gave a small smile. "Okay." She then tucked her bangs behind her ear. "Listen, um...let's make a promise, alright? If I win the tournament, I'll-"
"Don't," Edson raised a hand, cutting her off.
"Huh?" Claire murmured, her eyes widening in shock, caught off-guard.
The boy shook his head. "Don't do this for me. Do it for your brother."
Claire stared, sputtering, "But...your sister and girlfriend-"
"We'll figure something out," Edson replied, his tone firm, his eyes softening. "Listen, Claire, I like you, but I don't like getting free handouts, nor do I like mooching off my friends."
"Are you sure?" Claire pressed. "I have no problem letting you borrow money."
"But I do," he interjected. "I'm sorry, Claire, but it's something that I must do, otherwise, how does that even make me a man? A man is supposed to look after and protect his family. If I cannot even do that, if I take from every pretty face that I meet, then what right do I have to call myself that?"
"You can always pay the money back-"
"That's not the issue, Claire," Edson cut her off. "It's the principle of the thing that matters. But even more, we barely know each other as it is - why would you want to lend money to someone that you've just met? Someone who, as far you as know, could be lying?"
Claire struggled to make a retort, only to find herself unable. Letting her shoulders droop, the girl glanced down to her gloved hands as they rested on her lap.
Edson sighed. "Look, I really appreciate the offer, Claire. Really, I do. But...I'm afraid that I'll need to figure this out on my own."
A moment of silence passed between the two teenagers, the words lingering.
"...Okay," Claire softly replied.
Even though she greatly disagreed with Edson, she would respect his decision.
Swallowing, Claire cleared her throat. "Listen, um...I-I know that you want to be the man of the house or whatever, but...if you ever need help...just know that you can always reach out, you know? You can't take on the world by yourself."
He nodded. "I know."
"So, um...if you...if you ever want to, say...send a letter or call, well...you have a friend here in Raccoon City, okay?"
Hearing the offer caused the boy to glance up in surprise. Giving her a soft smile, Edson nodded. "Okay."
Once the two of them finished exchanging addresses and contact information, the door opened, revealing Dr. Gupte as she entered with a clipboard.
"Ah, Mr. Dreams! I see you have company," Gupte noted, looking Claire up and down, the older woman giving her a quirk of her brow. "I'm not catching you at a bad time, am I?"
Claire cleared her throat. "Ah, no, Doctor. We were just finishing our talk."
"Oh good. Now, if you'll excuse me, but I need to do a check-up. Could you step outside please?"
"Okay."
As Claire was about to leave, Edson waved. "Goodbye, Claire. I hope the tournament goes well for you."
Blinking, Claire smiled back, offering a wave of her own. "Goodbye, Edson." She squirmed, looking uncomfortable. "N-No hard feelings, right?"
To Claire's surprise, Edson flashed back an honest and warm smile, his eyes kind and lacking any deception. "No hard feelings."
Feeling slightly relieved, Claire turned back to the door and exited the room, her eyes tearing up as she wondered what else this tournament had in store for her.
Author Notes: And that concludes this chapter! So, fun fact: the character of Edson was the protagonist of "Project Dream", which was a cancelled Rare game that was a precursor of sorts to "Banjo-Kazooei". The game was initially going to have a pirate theme in its design, but eventually Edson and co. were dropped in favor of Banjo. You can find information about that on some of the Rare Replay behind-the-scenes videos on YouTube, and I highly recommend checking it out. Kind of a shame, really, just because it looked like a potentially interesting game. I don't know if Edson would have been a popular character or not, but I think "Project Dream" could use a revisit imo, at least, someday. I wanted to include him, partially as a reference to Rare, but also because I kind of wanted someone as a sort of parallel to Claire and her journey without making him an antagonistic asshole. I don't know if I've succeeded, but I've tried.
I hope you all liked this chapter.
Stay safe and healthy, everyone! :D