Fire.

It started with fire. Everywhere, licking, feasting, destroying all in its back, hungrily making its way toward her. She remembered pressing up against the wall, wailing, crying out for her mother, her father. It was all fear inside her, terror that nearly blinded her, smoke that burned her lungs. Over and over, she thought why is this happening? The fire just kept coming, kept burning.

It lashed out at her ankles, and she yelped, trying to escape, trying to flee, but her back was against the wall, and there was no where clear, no where safe from those terrible flames. She thought it was over. She waited for the heat to start to burn, to start peeling her skin, her muscles. But a figure rushed in, through the fire, like it was nothing. The way it moved, it was like he was dodging the flames, like he was so lithe and fast that he avoided them even though they seemed to be everywhere.

Strong arms wrapped under her arms and lifted her, pressing her to a firm chest where she closed her eyes and did nothing but listen to the sound of the heartbeat pounding until the heat was gone, and replaced with the soft kiss of fresh crisp air. She gulped it in as if she had been drowning, coughed and coughed, and cried.

"It's okay, little kit," assured a man's voice, "I'm here. You're safe, I promise. I promise, little kit, I'll keep you safe, sh, now, shh…"

And she did quiet, she did calm. She leaned back and looked into those vivid amber eyes, and knew she was safe. She slowly caught her breath, wiping her eyes, and burrowed her head into his soft shoulder as he held her.

"Why?" she whispered to him.

The man rubbed her back as he carried her away from the burning home, "I don't know, little kit," he murmured softly, "I'm sorry, but I don't know."

But he knew who.

When the girl grew old enough, when she grew out the fiery auburn hair that had been singed so badly in that blaze to flow out and around her slender shoulders, the girl who was now known as Kit was told of who had burnt down the home she barely remembered, and killed the parents she knew not the names of.

The man that rescued her and that took her in as his own, his name was Master Kaijo. He explained to Kit when she was about six years old that he had trained with two other men who were now Masters of martial arts as he was. One of them, however, went rotten. He began to use his abilities to hurt others instead of protect. This man had a brother, a mercenary, an assassin, and he was one of the best. He killed without mercy, without remorse. Kaijo did not know what he targeted Kit's home, her parents, but because Kaijo was tracking this man's efforts, he had been there in time to save her from the fire.

Kit never felt anger at this, though. She found that she didn't thirst for revenge or anything like that. All that she longed for was answers. Why her home? Her parents? What had they done to get an assassin on their trail? Kaijo explained to her that he was certain that this assassin, this Mercenary Tao, most likely believed that he had killed her in the fire like her parents, but he was worried.

"If he ever finds out he missed a target, Kit, he will come after you. Even if there's no pay in it, he wouldn't want a survivor on his records," Kaijo told her one evening while they sat outside his forest hut, the fire slowly cooking the rabbits he caught earlier that day, "You need to know how to protect yourself. I would like to teach you."

"I thought you said you were done taking on students, Master Kaijo," said Kit, his eight year old eyes looking up at him, their vivid green shade catching in the light of the fire.

Kaijo bowed his head. He had explained to her that Mercenary Tao killed one of his students, which is what made him take up the pursuit on him. He believed that Tao's brother is the one that set him on that contract, just to mess with Kaijo, just to hurt him in a way that physical wounds couldn't.

"The boy wasn't fully trained when Tao found him," said Kaijo softly, "He didn't stand a chance, but I won't let the same thing happen to you, little Kit. I'll train you the fox hermit style of martial arts. And one day, maybe you can go to the World Martial Arts Tournament and show the crane hermit how sly a fox can really be."

Kit looked at him, assessing his eyes. She always had a knack for reading people, even before the fire, though she couldn't remember much before then, not even her real name. He meant it. Kaijo wanted to train her, not just for her own safety, but to show the crane hermit that he had not won. Not yet. Kit looked at her small hands, picturing using them in combat, to defend herself, or others.

"Okay," she said softly.

"Okay?" Kaijo prompted.

"I want to train," Kit looked up, her tiny fists clenching, "I'll do my best and beyond."

Kaijo smiled at her, "Then let us begin."

Ten long years, Kit trained under Master Kaijo. Slowly, the little Kit that was so inquisitive and curious began to learn how to be sly and witty. She could haggle in town, sleekly lie her way out of trouble, be able to hear someone's darkest secrets by smiling at them. She became a true fox, subtle, sleek, elegant, quick. She soaked up everything that Kaijo taught her, did everything he asked her to, never questioned his tactics, or his ways of training.

There was only one thing he drilled into her mind that she was tempted to disobey: that no matter what, she was not to pursue, or reveal herself to Mercenary Tao until she was ready, and that would only be when she won the World Martial Arts Tournament. Kit never thought of it much. She wouldn't even know where to start looking for the man.

But then, she saw him.

She knew it was him from the pictures Kaijo showed her.

She had been sixteen at the time. Kit had been rushing back through the woods to return the rabbits she had caught with her snares to the camp. She had been going along the normal trail back to camp, but the pouch on her hip caught on a branch and ripped open. Her lucky charm that she had found the previous year fell from it, a beautiful orange orb with seven red stars on it. It bounced on the forest floor and rolled down the hill to her right. Kit dropped her rabbits on the trail, rushing after it. The hill led to the edge of the woods and overlooked a large rocky wasteland.

It had been raining, and Kit's now shortly cropped red hair was nearly soaked to her scalp as she chased the ball. It finally came to a stop at the bottom of the hill, about two hundred yards from the trail. Kit sighed in relief and picked it up. Slowly she wiped it off on her shirt from the mud it had gotten scuffed on it and examined it for scratches or chips in its glossy surface, but it appeared unharmed.

It was then she heard the cry.

Kit instinctively jumped behind the tree at the edge of the woodland, peering out carefully. A boy, probably no older than herself, crashed into a rock not but twenty yards away. He wore a tank top, wrist bands, simple cloth shoes, and sweat pants and his head was hairless and smooth. She only saw the back of him as he tried to recover, propping himself up on the rock, panting. Kit looked around for his attacker, wondering if she should step in, but then, she saw who it was.

There was no mistaking that narrow face, the sharp nose, the thin goatee, and the ink black hair tied back in a tight braid that went down his back. It was Mercenary Tao. Kit felt her heart beat accelerate a bit. Kaijo had told her time and time again how dangerous this man was, how easily he could kill, how he enjoyed it. But her thirst for knowledge was accelerating to being parched. She wanted to know, so very badly, why it had been her parents, her family. What had they done to deserve such treatment?

Behind Tao was a man who looked shockingly like him with strange styled hair that went up like wings framing his face. His hat had a bird, not just any bird, but a crane's head attached to it, making him look almost ridiculous. Next to him was a small boy with stark white skin and red circles on his cheeks. He stared on with slight worry, this boy, but he wore the same uniform as the man with the crane hat.

The boy that had been pushed into the rock was recovering, and pushed himself away from it, standing on his own. He cried out, rushing at Tao, fist held back. Tao deflected the boy's blow like it was nothing, twisting the boy around and kicking him harshly in the back, sending him against that rock again where the boy slid down it and into the mud.

Kit gripped the tree's bark with one hand and her ball in the other. Was this another of Tao's targets? Was this boy going to be killed before her eyes? Kit looked at Tao, then the boy as he coughed and groaned, but persistently got back up. Tao didn't wait for him to attack this time, he rushed forward and punched him across the face, making the boy slam into the rock again and let out a wail.

The boy was facing her now. It was odd. He had three eyes, two in the normal areas of the face and a third, larger one on his forehead. This eye remained open while the other two clenched in pain. Kit felt herself coming out from behind the tree, her curiosity boiling. More and more questions were blooming. This boy, with the three eyes, what had he done? And that man, in the odd hat and sunglasses, he HAD to be Hermit Crane.

What was this?

"Face it, boy," snarled Tao, his voice making a shiver run down Kit's spine, "You'll never be a match for me."

The boy coughed, opening his eyes, and then, all three of them met Kit's.

They stared at one another what felt like hours. His mouth opened slightly in shock, she felt her body moving forward. And then Tao's foot came down on the boy's head, making it smack against the rock, and his whole body fell limp in the mud.

Kit stared, frozen. Was he…

"You didn't kill my student, did you, little brother?" Hermit Crane had demanded almost sarcastically while the small boy beside him stared with worry.

"Of course not," snapped Tao, picking up the boy's limp form and tossing him over his shoulder, "Just proving to you that he needs more training."

They had left then. Kit stared at the back of the three-eyed boy's head as they vanished in the downpour. He hadn't been a target… he had been training…

Kit clutched her starred ball and turned, rushing back up the hill to gather her rabbits and head back to camp.

She never told Kaijo about seeing Tao with his brother, or making eye contact with one of his students before he was knocked out. She knew that Kaijo would scold her, would tell her she should have just fled right away, that being seen by the three-eyed boy could compromise her, but somehow, she knew that the boy wasn't going to tell anyone that he had seen her, watching silently from behind the tree.

Two years passed since that day, and Kaijo announced to her that he believed her to be ready for the tournament at last. He explained to her how proud he was of her progress, and thought she actually stood a good chance at winning, so long as she remembered her training, and how could Kit forget? The fox hermit style was how her entire body worked now, her words, the way she walked, and how she saw things. Kit was a fox, through and through, and now, she would go and prove herself.

Just to sate that curiosity that burned in her so ferociously. Answers… was all she wanted.

*scene change*

Kaijo was packing when Kit walked in that morning with her red hair sticking every which way, and her green eyes only half open. Part of being a fox, was the fact that she operated at night. Being up so early wasn't agreeing with her body after years of working though afternoons and nights, going to sleep as the sun was rising. Kaijo looked tired too, but he smiled at her when she came in.

"Ready?"

Kit looked down at herself, and gave him a crooked smile, "Sure thing, Master. So tell me, how are we getting to Papaya Island?"

"Believe it or not, I do own a few dino caps," said Kaijo, closing the old ratted suitcase and smirking at her.

Kaijo had a head of thick salt and pepper colored hair, and a shade of a beard that never seemed to grow passed his chin. His eyes were amber, and his body was wiry and thin, but it was still strong and healthy. Kit knew he could move like lightning if he wanted, and punch a boulder to make it into pebbles.

"I have something for you to wear," he said, and vanished into the other room.

Kit dragged her own bag from her room while he fetched her outfit, and double checked that she had everything she needed. When she finally assessed she was ready, Kaijo returned with black plastic bag. He handed it to her and smiled.

"Go change," he said.

Kit shrugged and went to her room again and took out her outfit.

It was a soft green that matched her eyes, the tunic, and it fit snugly on her slender body. It had a symbol on it, one that Kit recognized. It was the symbol of the Fox, Kaijo had the same symbol on the back of his favorite shirt. The symbol was both on her back, and a smaller version of it above her heart. The fabric went just past her hips, so she had some white leggings to pull on beneath it with knee high black boots. She rummaged in her drawers to find her fingerless leather gloves to wear as well and mussed with her hair in the mirror for a moment.

It was strange.

No longer did Kit look at herself and see herself as the little kit saved from the fire. No, this was a vixen ready for battle, and she stood tall and confident. Ready to change every room she walked into just by being who she was.

The little crying girl from the fire had been transformed, and in a way, Kit had not only Kaijo, but Mercenary Tao to thank as well. Often, Kit wondered how it would have been, living a normal life, and every time, she shuddered.

Being who she was now, confident, strong, sly, witty, she loved it. Being normal just wasn't something she ever would want to be. How boring would it be?

Kit walked from her room and Kaijo smiled at her.

"You've really grown up, little Kit," he said.

Kit grabbed her bag and smirked, "Yeah, I know. Let's go show that crane how sly a fox can be, huh?"

It was the words he used when he offered to train her. It made Kaijo smile.

"Yes," he said, getting his bag, "Lets."

*scene change*

There were people everywhere. Talking, smiling, cheering, arguing, yelling, pushing, walking, running, excitement, anxiety, it was just everywhere in the area outside the actual stage. Kit thrived in areas like this. People, their energy, their voices, it was all like food to her, her never ending curiosity sated by hearing conversations, looking at people's expressions. Kaijo laughed at her as she grinned when they made their way toward the stand where she would sign up for the tournament.

"Never could keep you out of the cities when you were growing up," he said.

"It's lovely," said Kit, giving him her crooked smile, "All the voices together and at once, it almost sounds like music."

"Whatever you say," Kaijo laughed, "Sounds like a whole lot a racket to me."

As they approached the stand where two officials were taking in names for the tournament, Kaijo grabbed her arm to stop her.

"What?" she asked.

He nodded toward the stand, and at the table was a group of fighters. Or at least, Kit figured one of them had to be a fighter. Two of them were just kids, one bald with six tattoos dotted on his head, and one with wild black hair and what looked like a monkey tail swaying behind him. There was also an old man in a blue suit and hat with a long white beard and sunglasses. The only one out of the four of them that looked like he was a probable contestant was a tall handsome boy with frayed black hair and dark eyes. He was well built, and smiled confidently as he spoke to the officials.

"That old man there?" Kaijo said, smiling at Kit when she looked back at him, "That is Roshi."

"Master Roshi, the turtle hermit?" asked Kit, looking back at the man, "Are you certain? He doesn't seem like much."

"Never let appearances fool you, little Kit," said Kaijo sharply, "He is as strong as I am, if not more."

"Stronger than you?" Kit looked over the old man as he smiled and greeted the officials, and the two younger boys went and gave their names. Looks like they were entering.

"Those boys must be his students, then," said Kit, "Two of them are just kids…"

"Their spirit energy is strong, Kit," said Kaijo, "Remember, never let appearances fool you. Come."

He stepped forward as the three boys walked away to talk with a second group, most likely their friends that were here to watch, leaving Roshi alone at the stand. He was murmuring something to the official, and the official nodded, writing something down.

"It has been a long time, old friend," Kaijo called as Roshi straightened.

Roshi turned, one wiry white furred brow perked, but smiled when he spotted Kaijo approaching. Kit remained behind, silently assessing before she made her approach.

"Well, I'll be damned," laughed Roshi, clapping a hand on Kaijo's shoulder, who was a head taller than the turtle hermit, "I was wondering when the fox would come out of his den!"

Kaijo smiled lightly, "I've been busy the past fifteen years," he said, "Those boys yours?" he nodded to the three boys behind Roshi laughing with the other group.

"That's right," said Roshi, "They entered last tournament too, one of them got second place!"

"That's quite the accomplishment, was it the tall one?" asked Kaijo.

"No, no," said Roshi, looking back and pointing, "It was the one with the tail, that's Goku. The tall one is Yamcha, and the little bald one is Krillin. Been training with me for nearly five years now."

Kit looked at the little one with the tail, frowning slightly. He was laughing merrily with his friends. Just a kid, and he got second place in the World Martial Arts Tournament? Must be one tough kid or the last tournaments contestants must have been weaklings and morons.

"Kit, I usually don't have to introduce you, what are you doing, hiding back there?" Kaijo called back to her.

Kit blinked and met her master's eyes, "Sorry," she stepped forward, her classic crooked sly smile coming on, "It's just a little intimidating, finally meeting the famous Master Roshi," she offered him her hand, "I'm Kit. Kaijo's pupil."

"What's this?" Roshi seemed to be looking over her, "Kaijo's pupil, you say? Well! Heh heh, Kaijo, you sure know how to pick 'em!" he shook her hand.

"Roshi," snapped Kaijo, his normally low smooth tone becoming sharp and annoyed, "You haven't changed at all, have you?"

"Heh," Roshi rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks reddening slightly, "She's the one who said I was intimidating!"

Kit looked over him and smirked a bit. Kaijo had told her how Roshi was with girls when they were younger. Seemed he still had a soft spot for the feminine curve.

"Who are you talking to, Master?"

The little bald one called Krillin was at Roshi's side, looking up as Kaijo and Kit.

"This is one of the men that I trained with when I was younger," said Roshi, "Master Kaijo is the fox hermit. This is his student, Kit."

Kit smiled down at the boy, "Hey, kiddo."

Krillin pouted at her, "I am sixteen, you know," he said.

Kit blinked. That was only two years younger than she was. He was so short! She smiled lightly, "Oh, is that so? Well, look on the bright side, you'll look young even when you're old! Imagine the girls you'll score," she winked.

Krillin smiled a bit at that, turning a little red.

The rest of their group was behind Roshi now, listening. The one called Goku went right up, looking up at Kaijo with wide eyes, "You trained with Master Roshi?" he asked, voice awed.

"That's right," said Kaijo, smiling lightly down at the boy, "I heard you won second place last tournament."

"If that runt won second place last tournament, the contestants must have all been asleep during the fights," sneered a voice.

Kit's green eyes flicked up and she stiffened. It was him. Hermit Crane. She could never forget that ridiculous excuse for a hat, and the hair that stuck up like wings behind his temples. She gently pulled some stray red strands of her hair and tucked it behind her ear as she straightened, her slanted eyes narrowing a touch, assessing him. Last time she saw him, he didn't know of her presence. The old man chuckled, twisting a small strand of facial hair on his upper lip.

"Roshi and Kaijo. The turtle finally comes from his shell, and the fox from his hiding hole. How quant," Crane said, "You both picked the wrong tournament to place your students in, I'm afraid, because it is my team that will be winning the title this year."

"Hermit Crane," growled Roshi, "All these years, and you're still alive. Unfortunate."

"The lines on your face are just as deep, old friend," snarled Crane.

"That was rude," said one of the girls in the group with Roshi's team. She had short blue hair, and narrowed blue eyes, looking over Crane with distain.

"Face it," snapped Crane, "Neither of you stand a chance. I heard silly little rumors that Roshi's students did quite well in the last tournament, but the turtle was blessed by my absence. Even the last champion, Jackie Chun, wouldn't stand a chance against my boys."

Kit's eyes turned to the two boys that were with Crane. One was small, the same small boy that she had seen two years ago in the rain, his skin paper white, round red circles on his cheeks. He had an eerie blank look on his face. Not smiling, not frowning, just black slate. He had a hat with a bobble on the top of it and wore robes like Cranes, green and black with the symbol of the Crane on the front.

And the second boy was him.

Kit knew it before she flicked her eyes to meet his. The boy had grown tall and strong since the last time she saw him in the rain two years ago, being beaten to a pulp by Mercenary Tao. No longer did he look like the hurt scared boy she had seen in the mud, but an arrogant young man, fists on his hips. He wore the same robes as Crane and the little one, and the same hat, but it didn't cover his third eye, the only thing that made Kit know for sure that this tall, handsome young man was the same as the vulnerable beaten boy in the rain.

He was smirking at them, eyes, all three of them, going from face to face. His arrogance made Kit frown. She had felt sorry for the boy in the rain, but this young man, he had a nastiness about him that struck her nose wrong. She didn't like it. But when his eyes finally met hers, his smug smirk faded, his mouth dropping open slightly, his expression almost exactly what it had been that day in the rain when he spotted her in the woods.

It was then that Kit saw a small shred of that vulnerability, and that he remembered. He knew she was the little fox-faced girl in the woods that watched him be beaten, and knocked unconscious by Tao.

*scene change*

No.

That wasn't fair.

She wasn't supposed to be real, she wasn't supposed to actually exist. He had imagined her, seen maybe a red bird fly by and mistook it for hair in the sheeting rain. Thought that those two pinpricks of vivid green had been spots in his eyes from the blows he had taken.

The fox-faced girl in the rain wasn't supposed to be here, now, slowly smirking at him while he felt his muscles tense up. He had never told anyone about her, not even Chiaotzu. He always thought that he had been beaten so severely by Tao that he was delirious and just seeing things to comfort him at the time. But nothing about this girl, here and now, comforted him.

She had seen him when he was weak. When he was still training, before he became the perfect weapon he was today. No one but his Master, Tao, and Chiaotzu were allowed to see him vulnerable, know that once upon a time he was weak and kicked around like a rag doll.

And worse yet, she was Kaijo's student. An enemy, a rival.

She was still smirking at him. He clenched his jaw, trying to regain his composure, his confident smile, his hard facial expression. But the way her lips formed that crooked grin made his entire body go rigid with rage. He had to calm himself quickly, before anyone noticed, before Master Crane, or Chiaotzu, or worse yet, one of Roshi's.

He pressed his confident smirk back on. So what if she was the girl, that she existed? He came here to win, and he would show her that the boy she saw in the rain two years ago was dead. That there was no weakness in him now. Yes. He told himself that he would be at an advantage, because of this. She wouldn't expect him to come out fighting, and that no one should ever think of him as a weakling.

Because he was the perfect weapon, cruel, confident, cold, and ruthless.

He was Tien Shinhan.