"Pop, we've got no money."  "I'm well aware of that."  "And we're all out of rice."  "I know! So just eat your food!"  The family sits around the low dining table in the center of the living room...  Atop the table is a single bowl with a heaping helping of buckwheat noodles.  It will serve as a meal for the three. The drafts blowing through the dojo are chilly.  "Aw, just once in a while I'd like a little egg in our noodles..."  "Don't demand so much, Yuri. Eggs are only for the Festival of the Dead and New Year's!"  "Boo hoo, whimper, whimper..."  "Well, when we finish let's canvass for disciples. Yuri, you'll be passing out these promotional tissues in front of the train station."  "Boo hoo, whimper, whimper..."  "That reminds me, the gas has been cut too. Ryo, go to the mountains and cut us some firewood."  "Boo hoo, whimper, whimper..."  "Pop, the water's been shut off, as well."  "Yuri, when you finish passing out these tissues, head to the river and do the wash."  "Boo hoo, whimper, whimper..."  "Y-Yuri?!"  Yuri awakens. She was just about to pick up a large peach that had come flowing down the river.  She finds herself in the dojo of Kyokugen Karate. A handsome Italian gentleman is now peering into her eyes.  "Boo hoo, whimper, whimper...Ah, Robert...was I sleeping?"  "Like a baby. You must have become quite the fighter to be doing head dives while the Master and Ryo are going through the moves. This dojo does have a rep in this neighborhood for putting its disciples through rigorous training."  "I guess I got a little sleepy because things are so dead around here."  "Dead? Why? ...Hmm, on second thought you do seem to have fewer disciples."  You could hear a pin drop in the dojo.  As far as anyone could remember, the dojo was always a little quiet, but now it seemed more so than ever.  "My father and Ryo's training is way too hard."  "I know, but they take part in KOF every year and get a lot of TV coverage; so they always get a huge influx of students at those times."  "And then by the time the next month rolls around ninety percent of them drop out. The other day we dragged in our first new disciple in ages, literally, right off the street...."  "Dragged right off the street?"  "And he just disappeared. He never came back. Having steel clogs slapped on you and being made to run 10 miles, even a horse would run away treated like that."  "Hey, Robert. When did you get in?"  The two greatest authorities of Kyokugen Karate, the invincible dragon and the mighty tiger - namely, Ryo Sakazaki and Robert Garcia - come face to face again. Along with the napping Yuri Sakazaki, it's quite a sight to behold when you consider these are the renowned experts of Kyokugen now.  "I've heard all about it, Ryo. Driven out all your disciples, have you?"  "It's not like I drove them out."  "Haven't you considered letting up a little? For the general public, you Sakazakis have physical capabilities like super-humans from another universe, you know?"  Treating this family as aliens from another planet, Robert takes on the mantle of the singular man of common sense.  "Don't talk about us as if we were a family of Martians. Pop's the only one with freakish ability. We children are just normal citizens of considerable looks and purity."  "I second that opinion."  "...Well, I'll leave it at that. Now, the reason I'm here is that I've got some suggestions that will be useful to this dojo's management. Try this on for size, OK?"  Robert takes out an invitation from his inner vest pocket.  Ryo and Yuri are unfazed. Naturally, this item has already been delivered to them.  "Got it? This time you should contemplate using a little more PR, eh?"  "PR?"  Robert loses no time beginning his spiel.  Don't forget the pleasant smile in the interview. Praise your defeated opponents with pithy lines. Repeat the words "Kyokugen Karate" and "Sakazaki's Dojo" at every opportunity. "Your town's Kyokugen Karate." "A big 'Haoh Shokou Ken' for every household." "A 'Kyokugen Reverse Fluttering Fang' for your family's security."  "And, yeah...Ryo, we'll sew advertisements on the back of your karate gear."  "The name of our dojo?"  "That's good, but we'll need to find sponsors - like a chain of convenience stores or a sports drink company."  Yuri stays silent, sighing on the inside. Robert seems to think himself a man of the world, but he is a scion of the Garcia Foundation. Since he was born he has been in possession of wealth one could not hope to squander in the period of a lifetime. How could his thinking address the scale of the matter at hand?  "Hmm. A sponsor. That might be good."  (Like a hole in the head!)  Yuri's big brother, a stranger to the ways of the world, easily falls in line with Robert. And because of this, the dojo will always be in dire straits.  "Oh, hoh...sewing advertisements on sacred karate gear..."  "That's right. In today's world, everything's got to sell something...uh, M-Master...." "It seems like you've been doing well, Robert. Just when I thought  it's been a long time since one of my favorite disciples has shown his face around here, here you are with talk about using Kyokugen as a means to make money? Wah, ha, ha!"  Suddenly appearing behind Robert, puffing himself up to full height, is Takuma Sakazaki, who was also in Yuri's dream. The master soba maker - and fighter -- known to all in Southtown.  "N-No, that's not why I'm here. As a matter of fact...."  "Papa, Robert is just worried about the management of our dojo."  To counter her father's wrath, Yuri peeks out from behind Robert, who is averting his gaze from his master to hide his panic.  "Hmph. One who devotes himself to the ways of the martial arts should not mewl and puke over trifles like making money!"  "But Papa. You're always bellyaching about the finances. And the management funds for our satellite dojo in Mexico...?"  "Hush, young lady! If that's what you have to say, then I'll speak my mind, too! This year's KOF is said to have an especially impressive line-up of contestants, but you can count me out!"  "Huh?! A KOF without you, Pop...?"  "You mean...?"  (Heh, heh, heh. Sure they're skilled, but they're still immature tyros. One word of me not joining them against such formidable rivals, and they'll crumble like cookies."  "Yes!! This time I'm totally free!"  "Yeeeah-hooo!"  "...What the...?"  "That's just like you, Master. You really know how to inspire your disciples!"  "No, that's.... Is it really OK? Me not joining you? Just you three against such fearsome foes?"  "Leave it all up to us, Papa. We'll show them all what Kyokugen is capable of!"  "R-Really? Well...Ah, there it is. Knock 'em dead!"  It was one week later that the KOF Management Organization received word from Takuma Sakazaki that he would not be participating in this year's tournament.  And Takuma kneads some celebratory buckwheat noodles for the departure of his disciples.
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