Chapter Text
Cody, despite his best attempts, still hasn’t convinced Haggar to give up this “Travers for Office” shtick. It’s been weeks, and he’s been out of prison for barely over a month, and yet Haggar has spent nearly every day molding the former convict into a man worthy of becoming Mayor.
Every morning, Cody wakes up in his guest bedroom, and he can’t help but feel a little more compelled to be the man Haggar wants him to be, if only to repay the massive debt he has on the man a little. Maybe if he were younger, he would care less. Responded with knife and fist, but Cody’s tired, and the guest bed is soft.
He thinks of when he saw Guy again, a day after his initial release. He had way more white hairs than last time.
This morning, Haggar woke him up bright and early with an order to “clean up and get dressed!” in one of the many, many dress shirts and waistcoats they had bought barely a few weeks prior. Cody didn’t even know you needed 20 ties for various occasions, or even at least 5 pairs of suffocating dress shoes. It’s a far cry from the baggy one piece of his prison uniform, but the watch on his left wrist feels a little too much like his old cuffs sometimes. He prefers the more modest leather watch strap most days.
Cody still can’t help but gorge a little at mealtimes, politely of course, but over a decade of prison would do that to you. More than a dozen times, Haggar’s told him to slow down, but it’s relatively low on the priority list for habits Cody’s trying to quit.
Today, Haggar’s been dragging him every which way to drum up support for the new “Mayor Travers,” but what the citizens of Metro don’t know is between the car rides and downtime, Cody’s been urging the mayor to find someone else.
“Nonsense!” Haggar booms. “I couldn’t think of anyone more fitting to bring down those Mad Gear grunts, Cody. You did it back then, and I have full confidence you can do it again.”
“This isn’t really the same thing.” Cody muses. It’s a quarter past 9 PM, and he’s been doing this political schmoozing bullshit since 7 AM, with barely a ham sandwich jammed down his throat and coffee chugged throughout the day.
It’s a different kind of monotony, one that leaves him anxious and frustrated with responsibility. Sure, Cody’s a natural charismatic—it’s easy to pretend he’s 10 years younger, Jessica and Guy by his side ready to take on Mad Gear and the world. He’s no Michael Haggar and his thousand watt grin and bulging chest, but these meetings have made Cody realize he can get by and then some with his tired smirk and a sarcastic, depressed quip.
He hasn’t actually been in Metro, actually gotten to explore and meet its people, in a decade. Not for longer than a few days, when he got especially bored and burst out of prison to annoy Guy. It’s so different from 10 years ago, when rats and trash were commonly strewn in alleys and streets. Street lights actually work now.
But the understanding smiles and genuine snickers the constituents give to his responses reminds him that it’s the same Metro he’s always known. That Metro itself exists within him.
He does not feel this way when Haggar blasts him with practice paperwork or political logistics. But nevertheless.
“I’m sure you have what it takes to run, Cody. You probably understand Metro better than anyone,” Haggar summarizes, “but those Mad Gear republican bastards, I’m sure they’ve got some ways of trying to spin this election in their favor. They were waiting till my term limit came up, and there’s been an increase in Mad Gear activity again…”
“I could just keep ‘em in check,” Cody says, “still no sweat to kick some assholes in.”
Haggar smiles. “You need to make sure that civilians don’t keep going back to Mad Gear, Cody. You need to make sure the streets aren’t just safe, but clean.” Haggar finds a single parallel parking space left on the crowded street. “Only a mayor can do that.”
Cody finally looks up from the passenger seat. Ah yes, Chinatown.
Haggar pulls himself out of the car and stands out by the sidewalk. “C’mon, kid, it’s past dinner.” Cody sighs and makes a show of dragging his feet across the pavement like a wounded animal. “Quit being dramatic. Or is a little socialization all it takes to bring down Cody Travers?”
“Mike, I’ve no idea how to win this shit.”
“Well, I do. I’ve an ace up my sleeve,” Haggar quirks a bushy eyebrow, and Cody realizes how much his hairline’s receded in the years gone by. “You didn’t think I wouldn’t have a full proof plan?”
Cody hums. His plan is probably good, but Cody himself certainly isn’t.
“Here we are.” They stop in front of a restaurant, two dragons painted on the sign. ‘New Braised Beef Special! Limited 25 per day!’ it says below some Chinese characters Cody guesses say the same thing. Cute drawings litter the sign, a modern spin on an otherwise very traditional looking restaurant.
Cody looks up, and the sign on the roof spells out ‘Yuan Rice House’ in bold red letters beneath some more Chinese characters. He follows Haggar inside.
The teenager sitting at the reception desk jumps and nearly drops (his? her?) their phone upon hearing the little bell at the door jingle, clearly not expecting customers at this hour.
“妈的,” the teen mumbles before perking into a customer service voice, fixated on gathering menus. “晚上好！你们那里有多少人—“
“Hello, Jamie.” Haggar smiles. Cody’s been to this restaurant before, many times in his youth, but he’s never known the employees by name.
The kid looks up finally. “Oh, shit, great to see you again, Mr. Haggar! Who’s…” Their eyes drift to Cody, studying his face for a moment before running up and down his body. For a brief moment, Cody feels a hot flash of embarrassment prick the hairs on his neck before he steels himself and holds out a hand.
“Cody Travers, at your service.” He gives his usual grin, the one that made Jessica and the Metro City fall in love with him years ago.
Jamie looks surprised for a moment and nearly fumbles the menus. Drawing their eyes from Cody’s hand to his face, they gives their own charming grin back and take it. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Travers. Jamie Xiu.” The kid’s knuckles are worn, similar to his own, and Cody realizes that there’s likely more to this place than he realizes. “Table for two?”
“Actually,” Haggar says, “we’re here to see your grandad. I know it’s late, but is Gen here?”
“Lemme check,” Jamie turns and hollers loud enough to make even Haggar jump a little: “大哥!! 阳阳!! 叔叔在家吗!？” The teenager smashes a bell repeatedly on the countertop in the meanwhile, and Cody recalls putting shaving cream in Guy’s socks back when they were so young. “Mayor Haggar 在这里!”
“I’m here, I’m here,” a sickly old man steps out of the back, and Cody winces at the heavy coughs wracking his frame. “You’ll make me deaf before I’m dead, Jamie, and I’ve been around bombs my whole life. Now get these men a table.”
The teenager rolls their eyes but doesn’t retort. Disappearing behind a curtain, a wave of nostalgia nearly knocks Cody unbalanced as smells and decor unchanged since he was a shitty brat assault his senses.
Another kid, a little older looking, with spiky bangs and headphones mops the other corner. He raises a brow seeing them, uncovering an ear to eavesdrop, but otherwise pays no mind.
“We’re out of our limited special and seseme balls tonight,” Jamie sets the table with paper doilies and silverware wrapped in cloth. “Could I get you both an ice water?” They paw at their apron, fishing out a pen.
“They won’t be eating,” Gen interjects, and Cody and his stomach are a little disappointed. “Get your brother, Jamie.” Jamie gives him an odd look, gesturing vaguely towards the boy mopping behind him. “Yun. Get your brother, Yun. You know what I mean.”
“Whatever, old man.” They dart past a corridor, presumably into a kitchen or a pantry.
Gen focuses his gaze on Haggar, and as the mayor puffs his chest and straightens himself into his ‘politician mode,’ Cody finds himself doing the same. “So, this is the apprentice you spoke of?” Gen asks as he strokes a wiry beard.
“Yes, this is Cody Travers. He’s 38 and currently under my tutelage for Metro City Mayor.” Haggar gestures to him, and though Cody holds out a hand, Gen continues to stroke his beard until it’s too awkward and Cody shrinks back his hand. “I’m sure you’re aware of the increased Mad Gear and gang activity, and as my term limit comes this quarter, I’ve chosen Cody as my successor. Now, I know you and your nephews have done a fine job at preventing Mad Gear—“
“Get to the point, Haggar. I’m going to die from boredom if you continue to disrespect my time and self treating me like a vote.” The old man hiccups into his hand for emphasis, but Cody’s eyes are turned squarely at Haggar wondering where the hell this old man got the audacity and why the fuck Haggar hasn’t said or done anything to put him in his place.
Hell, Cody’s instincts are tingling, and he can see the way Haggar’s throat tightens that his civility is a front.
“Right, of course,” Haggar shifts his posture, “See, we need—“
“You want me and my nephews to promote him in the upcoming election?” Gen posits. Ok, Cody isn’t big on assaulting the elderly, much less the sick elderly, but he’s been in enough fights to know this guy’s picking one. Still, Haggar’s in the same boat and he’s holding back, so Cody bounces his leg under the table and pulls his hands towards himself.
“Yes,” Haggar curtly replies. “I know with your support, Cody can win by a landslide, and if you’re worried that about his policies, rest assured—“
“Mr. Travers.”
“……yes?”
“You can fight, no?”
“….yes…?”
“Ok, good. This is good.” Gen nods sagely. “I guessed the moment I saw you, and I recall hearing of your battles with Mad Gear. Haggar mentioned you were a great fighter…”
Cody shoots Haggar a withered look, and the old mayor apologetically smiles back.
Two sets of light footsteps break the contact, and Cody shifts his elbows off of the table out of courtesy as Jamie crowds the space and drops three waters on it.
“对不起，叔叔，他不在厨房,” Jamie says. Peering over his messy bun, Cody catches a glimpse of another boy, in a braid and a baseball cap.
“‘Sup! I’m Yun,” he greets with a smirk and wave, and Cody feels so old seeing this kid’s grin mirroring his own old photos. The fresh scrapes on his palms and the bandages around his wrists tell Cody everything he needs to know.
“About time,” Gen curses under his breath. “Go help your brother clean the counters, Jamie. Yun, sit down.”
Haggar brightened upon seeing Yun. “Good to see you again, g-eh m-uhn?” His attempt at Chinese is pitiful, and Cody can’t help but feel a tad miffed.
Nevertheless, Yun laughs easily, and he brings out an open palm to Haggar, who claps it with his own and pulls it into a handshake. “You’re getting better! ‘哥们!’ First intonation.”
“Gē…men?”
Yun pulls up a chair backwards, resting his elbows across the top of it. “Good, good! So, what’s this all about, pops?”
Gen is clearly very annoyed, and Cody really doesn’t care. The old bastard clears his throat, “Yun, this is Mayor Haggar’s successor, Cody Travers.”
In response, Cody sticks out a friendly handshake but is instead met with a loud wolf whistle and eyes grazing over his figure.
“Damn, dude,” Yun grabs his forearm instead of his palm, and Cody recoils slightly and recedes his arm to meet the youth hand-to-hand. “You’re jacked as shit!” Cody hears two groans from behind Yun and sees the other brothers cringing at the sight. He pulls his hand back.
“Please, Yun,” Gen pleads, exasperated. Haggar chuckles to himself, and Cody wonders if he himself was ever…like this. Maybe he should ask Guy.
“We’re looking to see if the famous Dragons were willing to promote Cody here for the upcoming election,” Haggar reiterates, “if we can expand the voter base to here, I’m sure he’ll win.”
“Oh yeah, Yang was telling me the other guy’s a piece of shit.” Yun hums. “We’ve been getting more white boys around here lately, by the way, looking to sell drugs and steal shit. Guessing it has to do with him?”
Haggar nods. “Your support would be greatly appreciated.”
“I mean, I’m down, he seems cool. But it’s not my decision.”
“No,” Gen grumbles, “it isn’t. I am ‘not down.’”
Cody lets himself finally snap. “Jesus, just tell us what you want, get to the point!” Haggar clicks his tongue in annoyance, but Cody only feels a little bad about it.
The old man sneers. “Finally, he speaks! Honestly, I couldn’t care less about promoting your election—” great, like we didn’t know that beforehand, asshole— “but if you’re to be a man worthy of being Haggar’s successor and protecting the city my nephews live in, then I must see your strength.” Gen stands, looking over the others at the table. “Mayor, Mr. Travers, my condition is you must face me and my eldest nephew Yun and best at least one of us in combat, or at the very least, satisfy me. If you can do that, I can give you my honest and fullest support.”
Yun and Haggar match ecstatic grins, while the other brothers in the back bemoan their exclusion.
“What?!” Jamie shouts, “Why does Yun get to—“
“Because he’s the oldest,” Gen chides.
“What do you want us to do then, Uncle Gen?” The spiky-haired brother finally speaks. His voice is melancholic, demure compared to his brothers, and Cody draws a comparison to Guy almost unconsciously. The voice holds an unspoken outrage beneath its lack of volume.
“You two here and watch the restaurant, of course. What if another customer comes in?” Gen states. “Yang, fix your hair. I expect you on kitchen duty.”
“Nobody’s even gonna be here this late…why does Yun always get to do the cool stuff…” the brothers grumble as their eldest brother trades quips with Haggar.
Meanwhile, the big man laughs heartily, standing up and ripping his dress shirt off without hesitation. Haggar roars and flips the table over, startling Cody himself (Gen simply staring, unfazed and unimpressed) as ice water splashes and silverware clatters onto the floor. “
Cracking his knuckles, Yun “You’re goin’ down, old man!” Yun jumps backwards off his chair, holding it up in the air before chucking it at the mayor.
It had barely left Yun’s hands before exploding into chunks of wood as the chair was eviscerated by a mighty punch from Haggar. However, it seemed to be a feint— Yun immediately jumped up close just as Haggar pulled his fist back, sending a dive kick straight into the mayor’s face and into the ground.
Before Cody even realized it himself, he had grabbed the Yun by the collar, slammed the boy into the wall, and thrown him over his head and shoulders straight into another table, but to his surprise, the kid flips in the air and lands softly on his feet on top of the table.
“Really? That’s all?” Yun laughs and pops a squat. "You sure you aren’t a bit old to try and start a new life?" He readies another jump, and Cody huffs a sneer in retort, chuckling at this kid’s audacity and readying a tornado—
Only to have Gen suddenly appear and strike both him and Yun, and Haggar for good measure. Despite barely feeling more than a light tap, Cody finds the wind completely knocked out of him, and by the choking gasps of the others, they’re in a similar vein. Yun, in fact, fell out of the air and landed onto Haggar, knocking the wind out of him and onto the ground.
“Animals! All of you!” Gen barks, “Take it outside before you wreck my restaurant, or it’s coming out of your pocket! Yang, Jamie, this place better be spotless when we’re back!” The old man saunters to the back, leaving no room for more discussion
Though it falls on deaf ears, Cody hears “What?!””Auuuuughhhh…fiiiiine…” follow behind him.
“Hey—let go of me, old Hag!” Yun’s been thrown and locked between Haggar’s bicep and shoulder, the eldest nephew playfully beating his fists into the man’s back. “You’re gonna regret this!” He snickers and negs Cody in the neck when they pass him.
Haggar has to duck under the doorway, but pays no mind to Yun’s head slamming into the frame as they pass through. “C’mon Cody,” the mayor casually says, “we’ve got a fight to win.”
Before Cody had even opened his mouth, Yun whipped his legs and waist around the mayor’s face in one smooth motion, using the momentum to break free and send the larger man flailing towards the pavement. His eyes fell on Cody, and he backed up a safe distance closer to his grand-uncle away from the blond.
“Politicians are all the same,” he scoffed and adjusted his baseball cap, “You guys all fight dirty!”
“What can I say,” the ex-convict shrugs, “it’s a lot like fighting. Gotta do what’cha gotta do to win.” Cody feels dizzy, and he can’t pinpoint if it’s the lack of food in his stomach, the amount of bullshit he just had to sit through, or maybe the sudden rush of adrenaline itching beneath his skin.
He watches Haggar rise once more, feels the pressure sink in as Gen and Yun take mirroring fighting stances, and he feels like he won’t be forgetting this fight in a long, long time.
********
It sounds bad, but it’s apparently pretty hard to choose whether to attack a shitty kid or a sickly old man. It doesn’t take a Ken Masters to recognize Yun’s the weaker of the two, but Cody’s feeling himself grey early at just how annoying it is to catch the brat on top of dodging Gen’s hands.
Yun backflips and ducks under most of Haggar’s futile attempts to attack him, skipping just out of reach with a “C’mon, even Jamie’s stronger than that!" any time he parries a hit. When Cody even tries to get too close, Gen’s right up in his face, and the ex-convict has to focus everything into avoiding his attacks.
It’s exhilarating, Cody realizes, being faced with someone much, much, much stronger than you for once. Gen’s touch blasts him into the side of a wall, but Cody’s too busy laughing to feel anything but pure ecstasy. His blood is singing—he feels another blow at his side, enjoys in the pain, and relishes as he successfully blocks a flurry of attacks.
Gen’s blows still hurt like a motherfucker, but Cody’s never had such joy in this uncertainty, in such fun in a long, long time. And perhaps never again—he wants this fight to last forever. Wants to feel the sting of defeat almost as much as he craves the blood of a truly won win, basking in the glory of a successful and fulfilling hunt with blood in his mouth and hands.
Haggar gives him his opportunity—as he had and has always done many, many, many times before for Cody—by throwing the nephew into his uncle. Despite Gen fully anticipating this move, grabbing Yun out of the air with one hand and striking Cody with the other, he fails to account for the criminal uppercut he throws, sweeping the two up into a cyclone and launching both of them.
He executes a combination of punches and brutal swings into the vortex, the ending uppercut blasting yet another cyclone in their direction but realizes too late Ben was not only blocking but still had ahold of Yun.
The elderly man unguards Yun, who uses extra height from the breeze to send a dive kick straight into Cody’s shin. As he recoils, he sees a flash of light—and suddenly he’s being driven into the air, ricocheted against a brick wall, and juggled repeatedly.
Yun’s attacks don’t hit half has hard as Gen’s, Haggar’s or even some of the guys in prison, but Cody’s got a feeling he’ll be sporting bruises over every part of his body with how many times he gets hit over and over. When the kid runs out of steam, he’s quick to back away, backflipping over Haggar’s heaving shoulders (poor man probably had a hard time avoiding Gen’s assault) to avoid Cody’s counterattack and leaving poor Cody to the mercy of the old man once more.
Despite the disadvantage and the trickle of blood running from his pounding head, Cody smiled. The old man had let him rise back to his feet, and Cody realized he looked no worse for wear since starting the fight. The ex-convict started into the whites of the old man’s eyes in the dim light, only to see himself in the reflection.
"Isn't it about time you called it a day, gramps?"
Gen had changed his stance, now balancing on a foot with one hand curled towards his chest. “Perhaps for you,” he responded, and Cody braced himself for a flurry of blows—
He had blocked much of them, but unpredictably, Gen had sent one right into his solar plexus and two into his hips, crumpling Cody completely. Black spots and stars danced in his vision, both when he closed his eyes and when they were open, but Cody realized that the tang in his throat was that taste of true, deserved defeat he’s never had before. It was bitter.
As the adrenaline in his head turned from “exhilarating” to “overwhelming,” he counted the pulses between when his eyes would drift closed and when they would focus again. Only, on the last count, he catches a glimpse of the victor, doubled over and vomiting blood on his long white beard and hears a shout of his name over the ringing in his ears.