Crimson

Chapter 4: Revival

***

Those were indeed the words he wanted to hear, but all the same, it gave him a distinct feeling of nausea in hearing them. Along with that was icy dread, making every hair on his body stand on end in fear. The way he had said it had given the whole situation a feeling of evil and doom he did not like at all; in fact, he didn’t want to hear more, what with the confirmation of Kazuya’s lack of humanity out in the air now.

He swallowed his nerves, and forced himself to nod gingerly after a few moments. His auburn eyes lowered to the mouldering, cracked, abused concrete ground below him, and he swallowed again – this time, to quell the lump forming in his throat. Along with that, he managed to mutter a few words of confirmation, almost feeling guilty about the whole incident, as if it was entirely his fault.

Kazuya’s eyes registered most of this dark emotion from his son, and he decided he’d ease him into the idea. Or better still; let him find out for himself. “I’m sure you have a good idea so far. Go on, take a guess…a wild guess.” He knew the young boy’s sharp mind would think of a few ancient demons and fantasy creatures, and all of them wouldn’t be too far off the truth.

The guilt only increased as his mind tracked over the various possibilities. Dislike of sunlight…well, that would count as practically any demon. He noticed, over the last twelve hours of being in his father’s company, that he hadn’t eaten once. That was certainly noteworthy. His pale skin, definitely not the right colour for a healthy Japanese, was also a point counted. Of course the most obvious thing to think about was his invulnerability to injury – or, at least being stabbed. It discounted only a few options…but Jin felt sure he knew what the horrifying answer was. However, he couldn’t bring himself to convict his father – his only living family, besides his asshole grandfather – of being such a creature.

Yet he knew he had no choice. Slowly, almost silently, the words stumbled forth, tripping over his lips nervously, unsure of themselves. “I…I think I know…but I hope I’m wrong…”

Kazuya sensed the incredible nervousness…but he honestly didn’t see his curse as anything different from the burden he’d bore since his early youth. It was nothing but an addition to the existing evil, and it did nothing to proliferate it. “Just give me your best shot, Jin. Don’t worry about the inconstancies…”

He almost choked on the word. It was like venom, and didn’t want to be released. Hell, he was frightened. He’d never believed in the supernatural, and when he was younger, such monsters had terrified him. And now came the reality. “I…I don’t think I can say it…I just…I don’t know…” Again he stumbled on his words. Images of his mother with this man stung his eyes, forced them to close, as if it would block out the dark images. Not that Kazuya was a person he wouldn’t want his mother near; he could never imagine such a sweet angel like Jun to be with a creature of evil. There must have been something about him…or perhaps not. Perhaps this was the reason he too carried this devil within him that erupted at the worst of times.

Obviously, it was too much for his caring, innocent mind. For someone who had suffered as much as he had, Jin certainly wasn’t head-smart or daring – he was gentle, kind and naïve just like his mother. The mere thought of her threatened an emotional outburst from Kazuya, but he once again forced it back. Cautiously the older Mishima placed a hand on Jin’s shoulder in an effort to reassure him slightly. The atmosphere of the seedy alleyway probably wasn’t helping matters much.

“Then I think you’re probably right.”

Jin’s eyes snapped open, and he wrenched himself away in shock, clamping his own hand over the assaulted shoulder. When his eyes met Kazuya’s, he knew he ought to say something. He was one of the few people that could read that man’s face, and he knew there was surprise, and a little pain from the sudden reaction.

“Shit, your hands are like ice…”

Kazuya’s expression relaxed, and he looked down at the accused hands, smirking almost unnoticeably. “So’s the rest of me.”

Jin raised a hand, cautiously, and reached out toward Kazuya’s cheek. He stopped an inch or so away, hesitating, almost withdrawing completely…but after a moment he placed it down on his lower jaw and ear, only to find he was right; his skin might as well have been close to frozen. He forced his hand not to pull away.

The warmth wasn’t as intrusive and…frightening…as the blazing orb in the sky above them…in fact the warmth of his son’s hand was comforting, almost enticing, as far as he was concerned. His eyes fell shut, and he remained perfectly still, in the hopes that Jin would keep that lovely heat there for longer. “Your hands are so warm…” As he heard his words, he wished he were flexible enough to kick his own behind for sounding so pathetic.

Finally his hand fell back down to his side, and he regarded the icy creature still with a little dread and fear. “Are you always that cold?”

“No, only when I…” He hesitated, and looked away shamefully. “…Haven’t fed.” The curse was definitely not without its reasons for being called a curse; and this particular damnation was the worst part he could think of.

It was then that Jin fully understood; his uncertainties were confirmed. No wonder he was so strange when I first saw him…no wonder Heihachi’s dagger didn’t hurt him…shit, no wonder everything… His mind wandered for a moment, since he had no idea truly as it what to think of the situation. Images of starving children in Africa drifted through his mind, then the poor hungry souls lying about in Tokyo’s slums…so very much closer to home. He thought about his own experiences with an unfed stomach; and slowly reality came back into focus; reality in the form of his father. Hunger wasn’t pleasant, he knew…and to be cold, and most definitely until this point lonely along with it…for him, it would almost be too much to bear.

Again he swallowed a growing lump in his throat, and stepped closer. He knew that he was at the point of completely invading Kazuya’s personal space; it was easy to tell by the look on his face. And he didn’t stop until the curve of his neck was pressed against Kazuya’s chin as a result of his hand lightly pushing the back of his head. Thank god it was a dark alley, and thank god no one else was around, since they didn’t exactly look like a father and son in a friendly embrace to say the least.

“Go ahead. Do it.” Jin’s eyes reflected a strong resolve, which successfully masked his nerves below the surface. Sure, he knew how to take pain, but he didn’t necessarily enjoy it. He felt Kazuya try and pull away, but he held his hand exactly where it was, applying an equal pressure to keep him right where he was. “You need it, Otousan. Do it.”

Kazuya shook his head and tried to pull away again – but to no avail. “No, Jin…not you…” He felt his head being pressed tighter into Jin’s warm neck…it was so enticing. He smelled…so human, so full of life…and to a creature such as himself that was like waving a piping hot pot roast under a starving beggar’s nose.

“Do it.” The younger Mishima’s soft, deep voice was becoming more threatening, more forceful.

What could he do to resist? He knew it wouldn’t be too much longer before he started to feel the pain of the hunger, and that was always unbearable, no matter how many times he’d put himself through it. He didn’t particularly feel like collapsing in a heap on the ground…and god knows how long it would be until another decent opportunity came up. A sigh of resignation escaped his lips, and one of his freezing cold hands gently held the back of Jin’s head at the top of his neck, and he turned his head toward the hot olive skin at his mercy. Hesitantly he rested his icy lips against Jin’s neck, below his ear. As he did, goose bumps came up around the surrounding skin…he knew it wasn’t just because of the shock of cold. The lips parted, and before they bore their deadly weapons, a deep, sincere apology was whispered below Jin’s ear, in their native language.

After spending time in the ‘Real World’, away from his childhood home, Jin had learned a lot more than he’d ever thought possible in previous years. In fact, he’d learned so much he forgot about gender discrimination…especially since he met that fiery redhead a few years ago. Sure, he was an obstinate, obnoxious prick, but damn he had a good body. From then on, Jin had discovered himself to be bisexual. And as a result, he didn’t find those lips against his neck particularly disturbing; the reverse, in fact. Though they were cold, and brought about a sense of danger, he could tell that his mother would have loved them. Soft, and full…and so far Kazuya seemed to be very gentle. The sensation brought him comfort of all things, and lulled him into a sense of security…false or not was yet to be discovered.

It was that sense of security that left him unprepared for the incoming attack. Before he could react to the unwarranted apology, he felt a stabbing pain in his neck, like someone had cut him with a sharp knife in a concentrated area. In his mind he knew exactly what it was, what it was for, and he knew it wouldn’t really hurt him, but his body begged to differ. He couldn’t restrain the cry of pain that escaped his lips, and had to fight himself to stop from forcing Kazuya away from him. Squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth, he gripped more tightly on the back of Kazuya’s head before he realised if he kept it up he’d pull out a handful of that silky raven hair. The pain slowly subsided from a stabbing sensation to a sharp sting…and he could finally feel two very sharp objects embedded deep in his flesh. With a final burst of agony, they withdrew, and he felt the hot liquid from within burn through the wounds that were created, past the lips gently clamped onto the side of his neck. Though he knew it had only been mere seconds, it had felt, in every sense of a cliché, like forever.

When he’d heard that yell of pain, he’d endeavoured to withdraw his canines as fast as possible…to avoid any further torment on the poor boy. Some people called those horrible formations fangs…he, personally, didn’t enjoy being likened to a spider…or any form of arachnid for that matter. The sensation of the much-needed sustenance flowing into his mouth, over his tongue, and down his throat…it was always so much more blissful than it deserved for such an act. In fact, it took all of his self-control to restrain a faint moan of pleasure as he felt the heat inside his cold body. Though he hated every ounce of what he’d become, and loathed every damned individual like himself, he had to admit that the feeling of warmth entering him after a long period of coldness was almost better than sex. Almost. Or, at least from what he could tell of his experience – which was, mind you, not an awful lot. The warmth from the blood rooted itself within him from two places; his stomach, of course, but also from the centre of his chest – his heart. Then slowly it eased outward, filling his entire torso, down his arms and legs, and finally into his head, hands and feet. It was so tempting to keep going until he’d taken his fill, but he knew such an act would kill his only son – and it was having to fight that temptation that had made him refuse Jin’s offer in the first place. It was also temptation that made him give in. Damn this curse.

After a while, it honestly wasn’t that bad. In fact, after a short time, his body became numb to the pain, and everything became comfortably fuzzy eventually. It was at that point that he felt a tongue gently press against the wound, and though it stung at first, the pain once again faded…completely. Then he felt a cold rush of air hit the previously assaulted area; but the bizarre thing was, he didn’t feel the trickle of blood down his neck that he’d expected.

He felt almost human again, after that revival. He also felt incredibly shameful and guilty for what he had just committed. After reaching up with the back of his hand to remove the moisture from Jin’s neck, his eyes found the floor and concentrated on it. He just couldn’t bear to meet Jin’s eyes…he was too ashamed. “I’m so sorry, Jin.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Jin couldn’t help but notice what a change his own sacrifice had made. Kazuya’s skin was warm to the touch, and he’d taken on a slightly healthier colour – though he was still way too pale in comparison to himself. However, the flip side was quite simple; Kazuya clearly couldn’t make himself look at Jin. No doubt he felt extreme guilt. “No, it’s alright…it wasn’t that bad…believe me…”

It took what one might consider a lot of bravery, but eventually Kazuya forced himself to look up at Jin, and it was easy to see the self-hatred in those dark eyes of his. His body felt fantastic, and Jin’s blood was particularly delicious – much to his disappointment – but in his mind, he felt more terrible than he had in ages. He’d just used…used…the last element of the only woman he’d ever loved, for what? His own goddamn benefit. He bit his lip and looked away again. “Are you feeling alright?”

Jin nodded, and smiled. “A little light-headed, but fine. Don’t worry about it, Otousan, it’s not that big a deal.”

Before he could respond, he was interrupted by a deafening gunshot, and a sharp pain in the back of his shoulder. He turned toward the source of the assault, his unharmed arm straining to reach the wound. Standing at the entry to the alleyway was a thin masculine figure, clad completely in form-fitting black, wielding a Desert Eagle…aimed straight at Kazuya.

Jin forced himself between the two of them, standing directly in front of his father. “Who the fuck are you?”

Though the face was in deep shadow, it was easy to tell he was smirking. It was in his voice. “I’m what most people call a Vampire Slayer.”