Chapter Text
“Were I the Keeper of Time, I’d live in this moment forever.”
Tomas looked up, brows furrowed. Someone must be reciting poetry; that was his first thought. Ashrah, maybe? Her pursuit of Syzoth had proven fruitful, and he was happy for them.
Except, she was standing right in front of him, poised for training. It was a bright day at the Wu Shi Academy and most, both students and teachers, had seized the opportunity for battle training.
While his current counterpart remained to be a nuisance, the battle with Titan Shang Tsung was still fresh on the academy’s mind. Even Tomas, who’d been training for battles like that since his childhood, felt vastly underprepared.
There was always more to learn; that had been a lesson in and of itself.
“Smoke?” Ashrah asked gently.
Ignoring her to find the source of the words, his eyes led him to none other than one Takahashi Kenshi.
He sat under one of the various cherry blossom trees lining the monastery, slowly sharpening Sento. Johnny Cage was beside him, fiddling with his phone.
Tomas’ gaze whipped around frantically. Had no one else heard that! Kenshi said it so loudly, loud enough for even Johnny to hear, and..
The realisation hit Tomas like a truck.
He’d said it in Japanese.
“If that’s you asking me to delete the photo in Japanese, the answer’s still no.” Johnny responded, then let out a low whistle. “Damn. Maybe I picked the wrong career going into acting. This pic belongs in a museum.”
“Are you alright? Tomas?” Ashrah asked again, worry seeping into the edge of her voice.
Tomas blinked a few times to pull himself out of his stupor.
“What’s wrong?” She pressed.
“It’s nothing. Takahashi just.. said something funny.” He glanced at the pair under the cherry blossom for a final time. “Apologies. Shall we continue?”
Ashrah may have forgotten about what happened, but Tomas could not.
Since that day, Tomas couldn’t escape Kenshi’s voice waxing poetry about the American. Anytime they were in the same room, soft spoken Japanese always found its way past Kenshi’s lips, confidently knowing none could understand.
None except Tomas, apparently. He had half a mind to hunt Harumi down and throttle her for teaching him the language. It was useful to know, especially with the Shirai Ryu being located in Japan, but this entire situation was beginning to wear him down.
How was he meant to get anything done with the way Kenshi was following Johnny around like a lost puppy, indirectly torturing Tomas? Whether they were training or eating or in the middle of serious kombat, Tomas couldn’t escape. He’d had it bad enough when Kuai Liang and Harumi’s relationship was budding. He was a fool to think it’d be any better with the Shaolin.
Cicadas chirped contentedly across the grounds of the academy, the light from the half-moon bathing everything it touched in a mystical blue. While most of the students were asleep, Johnny Cage was proving to be a bad influence on their little outfit. Somehow, he’d managed to sneak a small TV into his room.
Liu Kang was not pleased when he found out, but after promising it wouldn’t distract him from his studies, Johnny was permitted to keep it. The size of it surprised Tomas— surely a man like Johnny Cage would’ve sprung for something larger; a wall-mounted flatscreen, perhaps? Tomas chuckled. That suited his personality more than this one, which was no bigger than the wooden crate it sat upon.
The door to Johnny’s room was open, allowing the occasional breeze to wash over them, each gust of wind a welcome mitigation for the summer's humidity. Raiden and Kung Lao were sitting across from each other in the corner, a checker board between them. Tomas only had to take a glance at Kung Lao’s sour expression to know who was winning.
Ashrah leaned against the wall beside him, her fingers nimbly weaving thick pieces of thread together. He briefly wondered who taught her the skill, or if this was something she brought over from her time in the Netherrealm.
“Who’s that for?” Tomas asked, gesturing to what he assumed was being fashioned into a bracelet.
“It is for my sister, Sareena,” Ashrah smiled. “She is recovering well from our battle with Quan Chi thanks to the Empress, but I wish to give her a gift the next time I visit her in Outworld.”
“I could join you, if you wished,” he offered.
Warmth flooded Ashrah’s gaze, and she dipped her head in gratitude. “It would be much appreciated, Tomas.”
The moment was interrupted by a hiss from across the room.
“Shh!” Johnny glared at the pair from his seat on the futon.
Tomas opened his mouth to tell Johnny to shush himself, but the retort died on his tongue when he saw what was on the screen.
“Why on earth are you watching Snakes on a Plane?” Tomas asked incredulously.
“Hey, don’t pin the blame on me. Takahashi’s never watched it before,” he gestured to the man beside him.
Kenshi clicked his tongue in distaste. “The way the movie’s going so far, I haven’t missed out on much.”
Johnny turned to him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious. This is like, one of Sam Jackson’s most iconic roles! I have had it with these motherfuckin’ snakes on this motherfuckin’ plane!” He recited.
“Language, Cage,” Raiden admonished without looking up from his game.
“Sorry,” Johnny apologised dryly.
“I don’t know how you can watch movies like this,” Kenshi pressed on. “They seem pretty pointless to me.”
“It's not about how good they are, Kenny. It’s about the impact. The culture, you know?” Kenshi snorted at his words, and at the nickname. “Don’t laugh! This movie came out what, like, twenty years ago? But I bet at least half of the human population knows about it.”
Kenshi ignored his rant. “At least if it had you in it, I’d have one reason to pay attention. Why haven’t you watched one of those with me yet?” He said, mouth downturned as if the prospect was genuinely upsetting to him.
Now it was Tomas’ turn to roll his eyes. Everyday he grew closer to his breaking point. A feat on Kenshi’s end, honestly; one of the first virtues he’d learnt with the Lin Kuei was patience.
“Come on, how am I meant to fight back when I don’t even know what you’re saying?” Johnny whined.
Kenshi just shook his head. “Pay attention to your movie, Cage.”
Johnny did as he was told and returned to the TV with a pout.
Ashrah looked at him quizzically, but Tomas just shrugged. Where would he even start?
Tomas’ reprieve came in the way of Liu Kang.
They got along better these days; but he’d be lying if he said a part of him wasn’t still bitter over Liu Kang’s unwillingness to bring his family back. His more rational side knew the God’s reasons weren’t unfounded— there were just some things that shouldn't be meddled with, whether or not you were the Keeper of Time.
After some time away from the man to sort out his.. complicated feelings, he was now able to look Liu Kang in the eye without feeling a stab of indignation. After all, a life lived clouded by anger was no life at all.
His heart lurched, thinking of Bi-Han.
Bi-Han chose his side, he told himself. He must accept the consequences.
“Is there something on your mind, Tomas?” Liu Kang’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.
The pair was walking down one of the numerous stone paths that led all throughout the academy, the afternoon sun beaming down on them in spears of light through the lush trees. He sighed wistfully, gazing up at them.
“It’s nothing Master,” he assured, returning to Liu Kang with a weary expression. “A memory arose unbidden, that’s all.”
Liu Kang hummed. “Of your brother, I’m sure.”
“He’s no brother of mine. Bi-Han made sure to let me know how he felt,” he spat.
“You mustn’t worry yourself with the opinions of others,” his teacher spoke sagely. “Only you can truly judge your own character. If Bi-Han was not wise enough to see yours for what it is, that is his loss.”
Easier said than done, Tomas thought. Yet he couldn’t ignore the truth behind the fire-god’s words. If Bi-Han could so easily toss his family aside without a second thought, then he wasn’t worth Tomas’ time or energy.
“You’re right, of course. Thank you, Liu Kang.”
Liu Kang didn’t answer, and instead smiled softly at his student.
As they travelled further up the path, Tomas spotted two figures at one of the ranges. Several practice targets were lined up alongside one another, littered with stray arrows and shurikens. Upon moving closer, the figures morphed into the familiar shapes of Kenshi and Johnny.
Both men were dressed in the academy’s orange training garbs, faces mere inches apart. Tomas halted, thinking he was intruding on the end of this whole fiasco (finally!), until he moved close enough to hear their conversation.
“I’m not pulling your leg! You think my obsession stopped at Sento?” Johnny was saying.
“Prove it then,” Kenshi smirked. “You only have to hit the middle of one target.”
“Game on.”
Johnny removed a shuriken from where it was embedded in the target and stepped back into position. He lifted his arm, tongue poking out between his teeth in concentration. Then, at a speed Tomas barely registered, Johnny twisted around and released the shuriken.
It landed squarely in the centre of the target.
Tomas couldn’t see his face, but from the way Kenshi froze, the man was clearly in shock.
Johnny peered at him over his shoulder, grinning confidently. “Told you. We should have put some money on it.”
“Alright,” Kenshi said slowly. “I won’t lie. That was impressive.”
“Haha, yes! Score one for Johnny Cage!” The man struck a pose, grin still plastered to his face.
Kenshi stared at him like he’d just hung all the stars in the sky. “Your eyes glow like amber in the afternoon sun. How lucky I am, to bask in their warmth.”
Tomas scarcely managed to suppress a gag. Kenshi must be reading romance books in his spare time, because what normal person talks like that, infatuated or not?
“Oh, goodness..” Liu Kang chuckled softly from behind his fingers, and Tomas spun around to gape at him.
“You—! Obviously you would speak Japanese! Of course!”
“Of course,” Liu Kang repeated, eyes gleaming with humour.
Tomas was so relieved he could cry. He no longer had to suffer alone!
“So, does that mean.. as in, do you...” Tomas struggled. How does one approach a literal God about something like this?
Thankfully, Liu Kang finished his question for him. “Am I aware that Kenshi Takahashi harbours feelings for Johnny Cage? Yes. But I cannot say I was expecting it.”
Tomas frowned curiously at that.
“What do you mean? Weren’t they together in your original timeline?” He queried.
“No. Nor any of the ones before it, as far as I’m aware,” Liu Kang revealed. “Although I suppose it makes sense.”
Tomas cocked his head. “How so?”
“The non-existence of one variable means another has taken its place.”
Tomas blinked in confusion. It just sounded like a bunch of Timekeeper talk to him.
“So will you help?” He continued.
Liu Kang raised an eyebrow. “Help with what?”
“With getting them together! Maybe you could, I don’t know, talk some sense into Kenshi? Tell him about fate or destiny or something,” Tomas pleaded. If anyone could convince him, it was their teacher.
Liu Kang shook his head in response, and Tomas’ hope shattered.
“If Kenshi does not believe he is ready, then no amount of discussion can push him forward. He must make this decision on his own.”
“But I can’t take it anymore!” Tomas stomped. He knew he sounded like a petulant child, but he didn’t care. Clearly the fire-god hadn’t spent nearly as much time with them as Tomas.
“If I have to hear Kenshi go on about Johnny’s hair or his eyes or his arms one more time—“
Liu Kang raised a hand to put an end to the tirade, but his face betrayed his amusement. “A watched pot never boils, Tomas. Give them time.”
Tomas sighed, returning his gaze to Kenshi and Johnny, who were still messing around with the targets. Watching them, it was obvious that Kenshi’s feelings weren’t as one sided as he might fear.
“I pray you’re right,” Tomas muttered.
If only for the sake of my sanity, he added silently.
Since the Wu Shi had caught wind of Shang Tsung’s movements, Tomas’ promised trip to Outworld with Ashrah had turned into one for the whole group.
The Empress sent word to Liu Kang that her patrols reported suspicious activity at an abandoned shipping warehouse near the Kingdom’s coast. She claimed to be too busy to investigate herself, but had full faith in the academy to handle it.
“Let the Empress know we will have left by the time you return to her,” Liu Kang told the messenger, “and that her faith will not be misplaced.”
That left the four of them— he, Johnny, Kenshi and Ashrah— to start their trek to the warehouse in question.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stop by the palace?” Tomas questioned Ashrah beforehand. “I’m sure we can make some time to see your sister.”
Ashrah shook her head. “It’s fine. I’d rather finish our business first.”
Tomas understood her reasoning. This way, they wouldn’t be pressed for time, and she could spend as much time with Sareena as she wanted.
He was following closely behind Johnny, who led the way with a machete in hand to cut a path through the dense foliage. Tomas was certain he heard Johnny mutter something about a temple and deja vu, but settled on finding out more later.
After a couple of hours, they finally reached their destination.
Tomas peered past the fronds that lined the path between the forest and the warehouse. The salty aroma of seawater filled his nose despite the mask secured on his face. Waves crashed against the rocky outcrop, and above it sat the warehouse, supported by a log foundation that disappeared down into the water.
“I’m not picking up any movement,” said Kenshi. “Ashrah?”
“Kriss senses nothing. We should be safe to continue.”
The group padded nimbly across the path before stopping once more when they reached the large wooden doors.
“How about now?” Whispered Johnny, to both Kenshi and Ashrah.
“Still nothing,” Kenshi replied.
“Better to be safe than sorry,” said Tomas. “I’ll scout ahead, then let you all know how to proceed once I return.”
“Alright,” Johnny agreed.
“Tread carefully,” said Ashrah.
With a nod, Tomas crept around the corner to find a point of entry. He scanned the outer wall of the warehouse until his eyes landed on a small window, close to the roof but not so far that Tomas couldn’t climb to it.
Tomas leaped as high as he could before stabbing one of his blades into the timber as leverage. Then, using the same blade as a foothold, he grabbed at the edge of the window and pulled himself up.
He raised his head to risk a peek over the ledge but didn’t detect any movement. Slipping through the window as quietly as possible, Tomas landed squarely between two crates without a sound. Not even the dust stirred at his entrance; if anyone was here, they remained unaware of their guest.
He swept the warehouse for any signs of activity, but there were none. If the Empress hadn’t given them the heads up, he would’ve assumed this place hadn’t seen any living souls in at least a decade.
Sure that they wouldn’t be ambushed, Tomas got to his feet and headed towards the entrance to let his friends in. Their faces were all painted in surprise, clearly not expecting him to appear right at the front door.
“There’s no one in here, but be on guard. That could change at any minute,” he said.
His three companions followed him inside, hoping to find a shred of evidence as to where Shang Tsung could be, or where he planned to strike next.
Tomas started with one of the shelves in the corner, but all they held were empty glass vials and books filled with old shipping manifests. He moved on to the crates below them, but they, too, contained nothing useful.
“I haven’t found anything,” he announced. “Johnny?”
“Zilch.”
“Nothing here either,” Kenshi tacked on.
Tomas turned to Ashrah, hoping she had something to show for their efforts.
She closed the drawer she was at. “Unless Shang Tsung has started hiding his clues with invisible ink in rotten books, there is nothing of use here.”
Tomas groaned in frustration. So they had just walked for six hours for nothing, he grumbled to himself. He took a deep breath in an attempt to relieve his annoyance, then turned to the exit. “Come on. We need to tell the Empress what we found.”
“More like what we didn’t find,” he heard Johnny murmur as the group left the warehouse.
Once the forest grew dark, they made the decision to set up camp and continue to the Palace tomorrow.
The group settled in for the night, huddled around the fire Ashrah lit and sulking over the failed mission.
“Geez, you’d think we just witnessed a murder,” Johnny finally spoke. “It’s okay, guys. So we hit a dead end. Not like that’s anything new.”
“Anyone ever tell you you suck at pep talks, Cage?” Kenshi chortled.
“I’m not done! As I was saying,” Johnny went on after shooting Kenshi a glare, “we’ve been in worse spots before. We know Shang Tsung’s not going anywhere, so we just gotta be prepared for when he does show up, and he will. Eventually,” he added.
Tomas let the words sink in. Although it had felt like a massive waste of time, it was nice to get out again. Plus, after this, he now knew how well the four of them worked as a team. Glancing at each of them, he was struck with a very random surge of appreciation for the three warriors.
Tomas opened his mouth to thank Johnny for the kind words, oddly comforted by them.
But Kenshi beat him to it.
“Ever my comfort in dark times, Johnny. How do you always manage to say just the right thing?”
Okay, that was it. Tomas refused to put up with this any longer.
“How is he meant to answer if he doesn’t understand what the hell you're saying?” He snapped hotly. Kenshi whipped around, eyes ablaze as if he was personally offended Tomas spoke Japanese.
“What’s the matter? What’d he say?” Johnny asked him, gaze flicking between the two men.
“Can you keep your mouth shut?” Kenshi hissed back, ignoring Johnny completely. Tomas could see Kenshi’s cheeks darken from where he was sitting, and didn’t think it was because of the fire crackling between them.
“You’re not doing yourself any favours with this. Please just talk to him!” Tomas was practically begging.
“It’s not that easy,” said Kenshi, nostrils flaring.
Tomas rolled his eyes at the theatrics. “Yes it is, Takahashi. You’re just—“
“You couldn’t possibly understand!” Kenshi snarled and was suddenly on his feet.
Tomas made a move to follow, but Johnny cut in before he was even off the ground. “Woah, woah! What the hell’s going on?”
Ashrah’s hand had, at some point during their altercation, instinctively wrapped around Kriss’ grip.
“He was.. making a suggestion.” Kenshi’s attention remained on Tomas as he spoke. “I told him I disagreed with it.”
Johnny pursed his lips. “Okay,” He drawled. Clearly not much of an answer in his opinion, but he continued anyway. “How about we all simmer down and get some sleep? It’s been a long day.”
“Good idea,” Ashrah said, eyeing the two of them cautiously. “I will take first watch.”
As Tomas lay in his bedroll, back warmed by the dying embers of their fire, he found himself sending out a prayer to anyone that was listening.
Please, he thought despairingly, someone bless Kenshi Takahashi with the wisdom he so clearly needs!
Kenshi didn’t say another word to Tomas, even after returning to Earthrealm reporting to Liu Kang. Then he was called away to assist the Shirai Ryu, and that was that.
The few days he had spent at Wu Shi academy, though, Tomas didn't hear Kenshi speak a lick of Japanese. It wasn’t because he’d finally worked up the nerve to confess to Johnny, Tomas knew that much. Instead, Kenshi seemed to be acutely aware of whenever Tomas was in the same room as him— when he was with Johnny, at least— so there weren’t many opportunities for Tomas to overhear something he wished he hadn’t.
The only time he had picked up on more than a letter was one week, when Kenshi and Johnny seemed to be in the middle of a dispute. Kenshi would spit Japanese at Johnny, only for the man to respond in broken, elementary level Spanish (nothing very interesting, according to Liu Kang— apparently he was asking for directions to the bathroom or expressing his love for the colour red).
Tomas later found out through Kung Lao that the argument was over one of Johnny’s movies going missing.
“I know you took it, Takahashi! Just admit it!” Johnny had demanded. “It was signed by the director, it’s an extended cut, please man, I’m begging you here!”
“You call this begging? I could make you really beg, if you like.”
Tomas nearly threw up. He was all too glad that his stay at the Academy lasted a short twelve hours.
He’d been jumping between the academy and the Shirai Ryu headquarters for the past eight days. Only now was he able to finally settle down— he’d remain with the Shaolin for another couple of months, at the very least. He could feel the exhaustion on his shoulders like a fur coat, and Tomas feared if he concentrated on anything other than getting to his bunk, he’d fall right over.
That’s probably why he didn’t notice the two men under the gazebo until he was already halfway past them.
“Hey, Smokeshow!”
Tomas whipped around to face whoever had called out, hackles raised.
Johnny held up his palms. “Woah, easy tiger. Just me.” He regarded the grey warrior for a moment. “You okay, buddy?”
Tomas relaxed, running a hand down his mask-less face. “Sorry. Just tired.”
He usually remained aware of such etiquette as speaking in full sentences, but he was just too tired. He didn’t think Johnny would really mind, anyway. The man couldn’t care less about being gracious, and Tomas found himself thankful for it— he wasn’t sure if thinking before he spoke was possible in his current state.
Johnny’s shoulder was pressed up against one of the gazebo’s marble pillars, and he was dressed down to his sleep clothes. Behind him was what looked like some kind of kotatsu, holding half eaten plates of various foods.
“I won’t keep you from your beauty sleep, then. Unless you wanted something to eat?” Johnny offered.
Tomas opened his mouth to decline, but his stomach betrayed him once he set his eyes on the spread laid out across the table. His legs moved against his will, carrying him up the few steps to the candlelit gazebo.
He inspected the food. Takoyaki, tempura, curry?
“You made Japanese food?” He asked.
“Hell yeah I did!” Johnny beamed. “This guy gave me some tips.”
He gestured to the man beside him, and it was then that his brain registered the second figure sitting at the table, looking very pointedly at Not-Tomas.
“I hardly did anything at all,” Kenshi growled into a piece of onigiri. “You’re practically a Michelin chef already. How are you so good at everything?”
Johnny anxiously raked a hand through his hair. “Alright, be honest with me Smokey,” he started. “He’s being mean to me when he does that, right?”
Tomas hoped Sento was nearby. He wanted to make sure Kenshi could see the daggers he was glaring into him.
“What he’s doing,” Tomas replied dryly, “is being an idiot.”
“Aw, he totally is!” Johnny cried. “I told you I hadn’t cooked in a while! You promised to tell me if it sucked.”
Kenshi huffed a laugh. “It tastes great, Cage. Ten out of ten.”
“Swear it?”
“I swear.”
Then Kenshi, the absolute little.. had the nerve to say, “I could never lie to a man as honourable as you, Cage,” loud enough for the other two to hear.
“I can’t with you, I just can’t.” Johnny said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. He turned back to Tomas. “So, did you wanna join us— or take a plate back to your bunk, since you said you were tired.”
Tomas couldn’t stand to be within three paces of these two for another minute.
“I’ll take a plate back, thanks.” He hoped the words hadn’t come out too quickly.
“Sure thing,” Johnny shot him a smile and moved to get some food together.
“I should get going too,” Kenshi announced, standing abruptly. “I have early lessons with Kung Lao tomorrow.”
Johnny’s face fell. “Aw, seriously? The party’s just getting started now that Smoke’s here! I got a bottle of Kentucky under my futon, we could crack out a few glasses..”
“I appreciate the offer, Cage. Maybe next time.”
Kenshi stepped past the obviously crestfallen man, brushing against Tomas’s shoulder on his way down the steps. Half asleep on his feet, Tomas barely resisted the urge to face-palm.
Johnny’s gaze remained on Kenshi as he walked off, presumably to his own room.
“I can’t get a read on that guy for the life of me,” he said. “Sometimes I think he doesn’t like me at all.”
It took all of Tomas’ remaining strength to stifle a laugh. If you only knew the half of it, he thought.
Later that night, when Tomas was finally able to try some food, he found himself agreeing with Kenshi. Johnny Cage was a damn good cook.
The image of Liu Kang shaking his head in disappointment was the only thing holding Tomas back at this point.
Look, if Johnny hadn’t shown any interest in Kenshi, that’d be a different story. Then maybe Tomas would understand, but that wasn’t the case. To everyone except Kenshi, the attraction was clearly mutual. That was what had Tomas so riled up.
It’s not like Kenshi was socially inept, either. Surely he had to have some idea that Johnny felt the same way. The only thing standing in his way was himself.
One evening, when the monastery was preparing to wind down for the night, Tomas found himself caught in the crossfire again.
He’d been spending most of his time with Raiden and Kung Lao, learning new manoeuvres and kombat tactics. It was only because Liu Kang had put him on lantern duty with Johnny that he was subjected, once again, to this unending torture.
Lantern duty consisted of lighting all the lanterns along the path for the night. Why the God of Fire can’t just light them all with a flick of his wrist, we’ll never know, Tomas grumbled silently.
Johnny was a couple of lanterns ahead of him on the opposite side, humming softly to himself.
“Nice to see you working for a change,” a voice called out.
Tomas looked up to respond, but the person wasn’t talking to him. Of course they weren’t, since the voice belonged to Kenshi.
Johnny’s face lit up instantly. “Takahashi! Where’ve you been?”
He abandoned his task to step over and pat Kenshi’s shoulder. Tomas groaned inwardly. You couldn’t have just kissed him and saved me all this trouble?
“I had business in Japan. Taira Clan isn’t going to restore itself.” Even Kenshi was beaming, merely because he was in the presence of the other man. A minuscule part of Tomas that was not yet tired of this whole situation warmed.
I hope someone will feel that way about me someday, it said.
However, it wasn’t enough to snuff out his immense irritation.
“Look, I gotta finish lighting all of these, but we’ll catch up later, yeah?” Johnny cemented his words with a squeeze of Kenshi’s bicep.
Kenshi’s smile softened. “Of course. It’s always the height of my day to see your face, my star.”
Johnny tilted his head, face scrunched in confusion. “Uh, yeah. You too, I guess.”
With a final pat, Johnny released the swordsman and returned to his duties. Kenshi didn’t so much as acknowledge Tomas as he walked past.
Tomas watched him leave, annoyance burning through his veins like liquid fire. Alright, then. Two could play at that game.
He didn’t want to make it seem like he was badmouthing his friend behind his back, and he definitely didn’t want Liu Kang to think he was meddling, but a little push in the right direction couldn’t hurt, right?
“Don’t you wanna know what Takahashi’s saying when he speaks Japanese?” Tomas asked, with Kenshi no longer in earshot.
When Johnny raised his head, his eyebrows were furrowed. “Sure I do. Why do you ask, my guy?”
Tomas pursed his lips. “I don’t know. You never say anything about it. Don’t you find it rude?”
Johnny shrugged and moved onto the next lantern. “Not really. Lots of people here speak different languages. If it was something important, Kenshi would tell me in our shared one.”
Tomas turned his back so Johnny wouldn’t see the face he pulled. If only.
“Honestly, I just wanna know if he’s making fun of me or not,” the man continued. “Least he could do is insult me in English and give me a chance to defend myself.”
Tomas hesitated, choosing his words very carefully. He wanted to give them a push, not give Kenshi away entirely.
“I can confidently say he isn’t making fun of you, but that’s about it.”
“Then that’s all I really needed to know,” Johnny said, and happily continued lighting his lanterns.
Of course Johnny would respect Kenshi’s privacy. If it were anyone else, he’d be all over the place trying to grab hold of the juicy details.
Tomas sighed in defeat. He had underestimated just how strongly the actor felt about the swordsman.
“So, do we know exactly where he’s hiding?” Johnny asked, “or are we winging it?”
Shang Tsung had been spotted in Earthrealm this time, on a large island southwest of Tokyo. His presence was less of a suspicion and more of a solid fact.
“If this really is a Yakuza offsite as Kenshi fears, that’s reason enough to believe it will be heavily guarded,” said Raiden. “So let’s try not to draw them all out at once.”
Kung Lao’s voice crackled through the speaker next. “As much as I hate to admit it, I’m glad Johnny had the impulse to buy these earpieces. Makes our jobs a lot easier.”
“Hell yeah it does!” Johnny cheered, before a shh! made its way over the headset.
Kenshi started with something in Japanese before continuing in English. “We’re meant to be infiltrating. You know, quietly?”
“You could at least tell me off in English,” Johnny huffed, but made sure to keep his volume low.
Raiden cut in before Kenshi could respond. “Alright, Kung Lao and Smoke are about to head in. Let’s keep the comms clear,” he said, obviously trying to put an end to the idle chatter without seeming pushy.
Like anyone could accuse Raiden of being pushy, Johnny bemused.
After a few minutes, Smoke updated the team. “Point of entry is clear. Kenshi, Johnny, you’re good to follow.”
“Copy that. You ready, Samurai Jack?” He asked Kenshi, who was stationed directly opposite from him on the other side of the compound.
“Yes, and I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”
“Make me,” Johnny replied smoothly, and Smoke let out a strangled groan.
“Smoke? You okay there buddy?” He asked.
“Peachy,” the man grunted, comforting Johnny none. “Can we just get this done?”
“Please,” Kenshi agreed.
Johnny cracked open the window he was at, stepping softly onto the hard concrete. It was game time.
Trailing a safe distance behind Smoke and Kung Lao, Kenshi only had to dispatch a couple of goons as they closed in on the main hub of the compound. It was all concrete, with catwalks along the ceiling and the occasional set of tables and chairs scattered around. Large metal crates took up most of the space, which could contain any number of things if these guys really were Yakuza.
He pressed a finger to his ear. “Anyone checking for tattoos?”
“I am,” Johnny replied curtly, “but it’s been hit or miss. Some have tattoos, some don’t.”
“Copy that. Let’s keep moving.”
So, they weren’t all Yakuza. Then, what? Shang Tsung just started picking up strays? Kenshi snickered to himself. It wouldn’t be too out of the ballpark to assume Shang Tsung would stoop that low, especially if he was desperate for allies.
That itself brought forth a new set of questions, though; who exactly had he recruited, and how far were they willing to go for him? He could predict a yakuza’s end goals, even predict their kombat moves; but if some of these guys weren’t yakuza, anticipating their behaviour would be much more difficult.
Since the compound was built perfectly symmetrical, Kenshi surmised Johnny was as far in as he was. They were technically Kung Lao and Smoke’s backup, but that didn’t mean it was a walk in the park.
“You guys didn’t think to warn me about the guy taking a nap in the broom closet?” Johnny piped up. He sounded out of breath.
“Sorry. Didn’t think he’d wake up. He looked so cozy!” Kung Lao joked.
“Har har, very funny.” Kenshi could practically hear Johnny’s eyes rolling through the earpiece.
“Guys, comms clear, remember?” Raiden repeated.
Kung Lao murmured an apology, and the four pressed forward.
The rest of the mission went off without a hitch, Kenshi only having to incapacitate three more of their black-clad enemies on the way. His and Johnny’s rendezvous point was up ahead.
“I’m here, Johnny. What’s your ETA?”
“ETA is ASAP, Ken-doll.”
Kenshi grasped Sento on instinct, but relaxed once Johnny’s outline shone through the darkness of the room.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” he grimaced.
“Hey, you’re the one who said we were infiltrating. ‘You know, quietly’?” Johnny said, mimicking Kenshi’s tone.
“You should think about doing stand up,” Kenshi replied flatly. “Now plug the thing in and let’s go.”
Johnny strode over to the massive array of screens. “Best thing about being on Earthrealm; the baddies always leave a digital footprint.”
Pulling a hard drive out of his back pocket, he plugged it in and began combing through the files.
“Man, not even a password? Someone needs to teach Shang Tsung a thing or two about computers.”
Kenshi watched the man work in silence. His hands began to sweat.
“So, what are you doing exactly?” He asked. Anything to keep his mind occupied while alone in a dark room with Johnny Cage.
“Pretty simple stuff, honestly. I had one of my contacts fuck around with the hard drive and have it extract any files with key words, words like ‘Sun Do’ or ‘Wu Shi’ or ‘blueprints’, stuff like that, and..”
Even in a world stripped of all light and colour, Johnny was still the most beautiful creature Kenshi had ever laid eyes on. It was infuriating at first, to hate someone you also found astoundingly attractive; made it much harder to find flaws that weren’t superficial. Johnny did have them, but if they came with a pretty face, they were easy to ignore.
Then, between when his sight was taken then partially restored, he found that there was a softer, sweeter side to Johnny Cage. The one that wordlessly guided him through a strange forest, protected him at his most vulnerable.
The Johnny Cage who returned his lost family heirloom to him.
Now, there wasn’t a single bad word Kenshi could utter against Johnny. He was crass, cocky, overconfident, and often forgot his manners— but he was also honest, loyal to a fault. He made the best of every situation, and he was so, so kind. Remembering the tenderness of Johnny offering Kenshi his blindfold (the blindfold he wears to this day like a badge of honour) sent shivers down his spine.
All his life, he had believed people to be inherently evil. That no matter what, mankind would always succumb to their selfish desires.
Johnny Cage changed his mind.
“Kenshi?”
He glanced up and saw the shape of Johnny, except his back was now turned against the screens.
“What is it? What’s the matter?” Kenshi urged.
A scrambled voice bled through his ears. “Ken— found us— moving— your—“
“Raiden? Smoke?” Kenshi called, to no response. He turned to face Johnny. “What the hell is happening?”
“I got about halfway through the extraction before it locked me out. I could’ve sworn I heard..”
The door flew off its hinges, and Kenshi dived for cover. An acrid smell overtook the compound’s stale air, filling his lungs, and it took every ounce of self control for Kenshi to stop himself from coughing.
“Spread out and find them!”
Quan Chi.
His first instinct was to make sure Johnny was okay, but Sento couldn’t pick up on the smoke’s shape and he didn’t want to risk exposing himself. He had to focus on clearing the room out before making any attempt to reunite with the other man.
Kenshi’s ears picked up on the sound of a boot hitting the ground behind him. Turning around, he unsheathed Sento and waited. Perhaps he could use the smoke’s invisibility to his advantage.
Keeping low, he crept forward as quietly as possible. The looming figure of a man in a gas mask stepped out from the shadows, and Kenshi put an end to his search before he could react.
“Kenshi!”
Following the sound of his friend, he saw Johnny crouched beside the computer and silently made his way over.
“Are you alright?” Kenshi asked.
“I’m fine,” Johnny whispered back. “Just took me by surprise, the bastards. How’d you get past all the baddies?”
“Sento can’t see the smoke,” he said. Johnny grinned.
“Taira Clan for the win.”
Kenshi was certain he felt Sento’s power surge at the man’s words. He frowned. It had certainly never done that before.
“Now, what’s the game plan?”
“Since I’m not affected by the smoke, we have the element of surprise. I’ll take point and we can both take them out one by one.”
“The hunter becomes the hunted,” Johnny beamed. “I like it.”
Alright, now Kenshi understood why Sento had reacted that way; compliments from Johnny always felt nice.
He fought to keep his pride from bubbling over. “Let’s go.”
Sneaking through the smoke with Johnny tailing closely behind him, they managed to dispose of three more guards.
“The smoke’s dying down,” Johnny told him, “but I think we made a dent in their numbers.”
With the knowledge that they were no longer protected by the smoke, Kenshi stood to his full height, searching the room for any more enemies.
“Oof!”
Kenshi crashed down onto the floor, shuffling to his feet after a moment. The attacker grabbed him by the neck before he could get a hold of Sento, and he clawed desperately at the arm around him.
“Don’t move!” Kenshi felt the cold press of a gun against his temple. Johnny’s hands shot up in surrender.
“Oookay buddy, let’s all calm down. I don’t even have any weapons, see?” Johnny twisted from side to side, proving his claim.
“I have orders to bring you in, but I’m permitted to kill you if you make it too difficult,” the man told Kenshi. “What will it be, Taira?”
The swordsman struggled against his grasp, but that only worsened the pressure. Kenshi was released for a moment before being struck across the face with the butt of his gun.
“All right, playtime’s over.”
Johnny phased closer to the goon, held him up by the shoulders, then slammed him back down onto the concrete with a sickening crunch.
“Now that’s a money shot right there,” Johnny preened, legs still open in a split while he appreciated his handiwork.
Kenshi, with an unnamed interest he didn’t want to examine too closely, watched as Johnny pulled a handkerchief out from his breast pocket and wiped the splattered blood off his shoes.
“Shit, on my nicest pair of Bentley’s, too. Shang Tsung is so gonna get it.”
Neither man noticed the dark figure approach, both too engrossed in their thoughts.
“You lot have a particularly irritating sense of determination,” Quan Chi announced. “It would be easier to just give up, you know.”
They whipped around instantly. Kenshi snarled at the sight of him, but Johnny just scratched his neck nonchalantly.
“Yeah, well, I don’t remember asking for the bald guy’s opinion. No offence, I mean, you totally pull it off.”
Quan Chi sneered. “You would do well to remember your place, Earthrealmer, and hold your tongue in the presence of a necromancer of my calibre.”
He raised his hand.
It was as if the spirits of his ancestors possessed him entirely, the way Kenshi’s body moved to deflect Quan Chi’s attack. He slashed at the necromancer’s forearm, dodging the blast that followed with ease.
Quan Chi let out a cry and staggered back, Kenshi taking the distraction as an opportunity to move in. Sento glowed an icy blue with the indignation of fallen Taira warriors.
He held it to the sorcerer’s throat. “Speak. What are you and Shang Tsung up to?” Kenshi demanded.
Quan Chi’s face split into a grin, sparking unease in Kenshi’s gut.
“Speak!”
“You are already too late, Swordsman,” he replied ominously. “This was only the catalyst.”
Kenshi opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but Quan Chi began to slip away like sand between his fingers, his sharp, gleeful laughter bouncing across the compound. Kenshi growled in frustration. They had escaped again.
He sighed and returned Sento to its sheath.
“Let’s just take what we can and get out of here. Unless you can get back into their systems?”
No response.
“Johnny?”
Scanning the room, he saw the man lying motionless on the cold concrete.
“Johnny!”
Kenshi ran over, inspecting his condition; he couldn’t see any physical wounds, but Johnny wasn’t reacting to any of Kenshi’s attempts to wake him up.
With shaky hands, Kenshi pressed a finger to his earpiece. “Anyone there? Johnny’s been hit, I think with a spell, he’s not waking up—”
“We’re on our way,” Raiden crackled back immediately, easing Kenshi’s nerves by an inch. “Whatever just happened, these guys are turning tail quicker than startled rabbits. We’ll be there soon.”
He fell to the floor beside Johnny, cupping the man’s face. He was still breathing, thankfully, but it was slow and shaky enough to have Kenshi trembling as he drew a thumb across Johnny’s cheek.
“I can’t lose you, not now, not yet, not ever. Please.”
Ashrah and Raiden strode into the room, interrupting his desperate rambling. Kenshi retracted his hand like he’d been burnt.
“He— he just collapsed,” Kenshi stammered out. His voice shook with anxiety. He clamped his jaw shut, grinding his teeth.
His ancestors wailed on in the back of his mind.
‘American! American!’ They cried.
‘This is no time to lose myself!’ He shot back. The voices fell silent. Kenshi could hear his thoughts as if he were speaking the words out loud. ‘I have to retain my composure. I have to get Johnny to safety.’
Raiden’s voice pulled him from his head. “Ashrah, guard the door while we get him up.” She stiffened at the request, but conceded to follow his instructions. Kenshi would ask about that later; right now, Johnny was his first and only priority.
“Smoke and Kung Lao are clearing a path out for us as we speak. Liu Kang will be waiting for our signal to open a portal,” Raiden explained, picking up on Kenshi’s thinly-veiled panic. “Help me sit him up.”
Kenshi nodded in response, afraid his voice would only fail him again.
Scrambling into position behind Johnny, Kenshi knelt down and slipped a hand under his head, softly cradling him up to lean against his chest. He watched through the colourblind eyes of his ancestors as Raiden moved a hand to hover over Johnny’s chest, listened to the snaps and crackles of lightning that struck down against Johnny’s pale skin and sent a soft, pulsing glow across his veins. His chest rattled with a large inhale, before petering out into even breaths.
“I’ve done everything I can,” Raiden said finally. “He should be able to make it back to Liu Kang if we hurry, but until then, he is in the hands of the Elder Gods.”
Ashrah stepped towards them. “The Earthrealmers working with Shang Tsung have all retreated. Cowards,” she spat.
“Ashrah, we need to get Johnny out of here,” Raiden reminded her sternly.
Her eyes were flooded with grief and anger when she returned his gaze, but it disappeared instantly at the sight of her injured friend. She nodded resolutely.
“Of course. This way.”
The two men carried Johnny through the concrete maze, staggering slightly under his weight. Ashrah was right; the compound was eerily empty, the only proof that they were ever here being the bodies of their enemies.
Good, Kenshi thought bitterly. Even if Johnny does wake up, they deserve all this and more.
It was an effort to drag him all the way to the exit, but Kenshi barely noticed. He was in fight mode, adrenaline pumping through his body, ready to defend Johnny with his life if anyone dared get in their way.
Eventually, they stepped out into the cold evening, surroundings awash with the green light from Liu Kang’s portal. Kenshi didn’t bother to wait for the others as he stepped through with Raiden and found Liu Kang waiting for them.
He ushered them forward with a wave of his hand. “Come quickly. We have much to discuss.”
Kenshi’s brows deepened in a frown. “What about Johnny? I can’t just leave him.”
“I understand how you feel,” he replied knowingly. When Kenshi opened his mouth to defend himself, Liu Kang pressed on, “but Johnny Cage is safe now. We will take him to be treated, and leave him to rest until he awakens.”
Kenshi’s mouth clicked shut, and he glanced between his former teacher and the man he loved.
“Johnny wouldn’t want you to waste time fussing over him,” Raiden muttered. “You and I both know that's true.”
The swordsman hesitated for another moment.
“Okay,” he resigned with a huff. “Fine. But let’s be quick about it.”
Kenshi would not soon forget this day. He had a bone to pick with Quan Chi.