Saffy's Stash

The White Lotus was always buzzing when the year led up to the Mortal Kombat tournament. How could it not, when the world's fate is in the hands and abilities of so few people. The weight of it all is nearly suffocating at worse, best not think of it.

It was hard not to when evidence was seen everywhere. The tone of higher higher-ups, such of the Thunder god, became more stern. Lord Raiden made more frequent trips to oversee preparations. Distractions became welcomed among combatants.

As Shang Tsung focuses on his blows. He was chosen for this. The one that must be victorious. And yet... his eyes drift.

The White Lotus needed more hands as residents handle the half century event.

A woman cleans near him, as if doing her best to be small, unnoticed, to not cause a commotion as preparations were being set.

However, Shang Tsung's instincts were as sharp as they could be. He ignored her at first. Focusing back on his training, yet her gentle hands seem to catch his attention.

Obvious from her clothes that she was of low status, but the White Lotus Society never discriminated.

"You seem fond of that statue?" Shang Tsung soft teases as he does another kick to the dummy. Which made the woman flinch from his voice and the sound of the impact.

"My apologies, sir, I'll leave now-" She mumbles, gathering the materials used for polishing.

"Do not." Shand Tsung looks away from the dummy and at her. Finally, having a good look at her face. He cannot deny how soft and gentle her appearance was. Like a bud that has just bloomed.

A start to it all. Their conversations were short at first, yet her presence made him feel warm. Especially when she hummed when she cleaned. A soft act contrasts his movements.

Being praised for his skills by masters and teachers, yet somehow her smile was brighter than all of it.

One day, she brought him a cloth to wipe away the sweat from the day of training. "Must not be comfortable, use it as you may like." A simple gesture. Which led him to smile, "Thank you."

At the end of that day, he returned it cleaned to her, but she refused it.

"It is yours now. As it is the least I can do." She looks down at her hands. "You are strong and capable, while I am not. You fight for all of us."

But when Shang Tsung grabbed her hands, gentle as if holding a freshly hatched bird. She looked up at him, and his gaze was almost intense or could have been in her head. Her face is now warm from such a gesture.

"Then I will do all I can. Be the champion you can keep looking at." He sealed his promise with a kiss as he brought her hands to his lips.

...

The day of the tournament came. The woman could only hear from the background. Hearing men scream and yell as blows were exchanged. She could only see glimpses of the fights as she was called to other tasks as the day went.

Word spread of Shang Tsung being a finalist. She couldn't help but smile in relief, hearing how well his training paid off.

In the last match, she hid behind a pillar. Watching the man she grew to care about, fight as his life depended on it. Nearly entranced by the performance. But the tides were changing, as Shang Tsung was receiving more hits. She leaned further out of the pillar. Her hand over her mouth, trying not to gasp or scream his name.

Again, Shang Tsung saw her, determined not to become a martyr to this game for gods. Be the warrior that defied the odds. He has to, in her eyes, he has to.

A green glow appears on the tournament floor. People gasp as some assume this was an Outworld trick.

Then the orb hit the Outworld opponent. Killing him in just one hit.

Large gasp and shouts from the crowd of onlookers. Raiden closed his eyes as he looked away like a disappointed father. Yet Shang Tsung kept his eyes on her. Grinning at his new victory as the woman looked at him in disbelief.