Crimson
Chapter 19: Take All The
Shame To The Grave
***
~
If I could change, I would
Take back the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
If I could take all the shame to the grave I
would
If I could change I would
Take back the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
I would take all the shame to the grave.
~
-Linkin Park, Easier To Run, Meteora album (inspired a
lot of this chapter’s emotions, though not as much as the most recent chapter
of Déjà Vu. Thank you Mike Shinoda!)
***
Finally,
the day of the big tournament had arrived. It was the final battle between the
two Mishima titans...in fact, because of the crowd that had bought tickets, the venue had to be shifted from the Mishima arena
to the local grand stadium, where over 100,000 had been seated. The noise
already was phenomenal, and the crowd was simply chattering and babbling
amongst themselves.
Below
the arena, Kazuya was pacing back and forth anxiously, fiddling with the
leather straps on his red and silver cut-off gloves. Jin and Nina, and a choice
other few, were sitting in the locker room, watching him pace. He was actually
dressed in a full Gi again; long white sleeves with the pants and shirt held
against him with the black belt around his waist.
Finally
Nina couldn’t take watching him wear a track into the ground any longer, and
marched right up to him, grasped him by the shoulders, and sighed. “Kazuya...just calm down, honey. You know you’ll win,
there’s no way that old fart could win.”
He
sighed too, and stood where he was stopped, letting his head drop back. “I know
I’ll win, leave me alone.”
After
being shaken off, Nina found herself standing like an idiot, watching him going
back to pacing. Again, she stepped in front of him. “Kazuya, look...I don’t
need to be a telepath to know something’s bothering you, okay? You might as
well just tell me, because you don’t want it to bother you while you’re
fighting!”
He
gave her a deadly glare, then folded his arms over his
chest. “There’s a lot on my mind, Nina. Little things adding
up together to make me feel just a little uneasy about the whole situation.”
She
led him down to the seat they were all sitting on, and pulled him down. Surprisingly,
he complied. “Anything we can help you with?”
He
shook his head, and leaned back against the wall. “No, not
really. For a start, there’s the entire freaking stadium and the
worldwide television audience...as much as I don’t mind crowds, as much as I
don’t mind being watched...I would have liked to finished off the old man in
private. In the family dojo perhaps. That, and after
all these years, is killing him off really going to help us? Will he get what
he deserves in death? I can say for one that living is often a greater
punishment.”
After
a moment Nina rested her head against his shoulder, and put her hand against
the icy skin on his partially bared chest. When the temperature of his body hit
her, she flinched and pulled back, scowling. “Well no wonder you’re as nervous
as a guppy in a piranha pool! You haven’t fed since we last...” she trailed
off. Announcing their sex life to the entire audience in the small locker room
wasn’t such a good idea.
He
shook her off again, and wrapped his arms around his stomach. “Nina, will you
stop...”
She
cut him off by forcing his face against her neck. “Listen buddy. This time
you’re going to take more than your fill to give you energy for the fight! I
don’t care if it knocks me clean off my feet, DO IT!”
Kazuya
pulled his lips away from her neck a moment. “You do realise that ‘my fill’
would leave three people dead, right?”
The
thought of that sent her blood running cold momentarily. How much can one
vampire consume? Ignoring the deadly fact, she pressed him against her neck
again. “Then take as much as you need. I’m sure Jin will be happy to donate as
well...”
The
boy nodded. “Of course. Any time.”
He
knew they were right, and decided it best not to defy them this time. Without
any further disruptions, he sunk his teeth into Nina’s throat, quickly drinking
down the hot liquid that came to his lips. At the same time, one of his arms
looped around her waist, holding her close, the other hand grasping the other
side of her neck gently. The bizarre embrace received a few funny looks from
the others in the room, but he ignored them. This time, he took a lot more than
usual...enough to leave Nina very, very uneasy on her feet. He did finally
break away, letting the wounds heal over, and righted her against the wall.
Feeling
rather dazed and as if she was floating on a fluffy cloud, Nina chuckled
heavily. “Woo...I don’t even need to get drunk to get drunk!” Jin smirked
somewhat, and pulled his hooded jacket off to expose his neck.
“Better
take it while the offer’s hot, Otousan.”
Kazuya
didn’t rebel, and simply turned to face his son, before doing to Jin what he
did to Nina a moment before. One after another in this fashion, he could taste
the distinct difference. Jin’s blood, somehow, was tastier. He could’ve sworn
it was because of that demonic inheritance of his; that, and his close relation
to the sweet and innocent Jun Kazama. At any rate, it was a good thing Jin was
twice Nina’s size, because Kazuya found it difficult to tear himself away
eventually. He did, but it left Jin feeling distinctly faint. He wavered a
moment, then shook his head about, pulling his jacket back on.
Both
of the ‘vampire victims’ watched their attacker as he wiped his lips on the
back of his arm, and adjusted his gloves somewhat. Somehow he wasn’t as pale as
normal, though, he wasn’t a ‘normal’ colour for a Japanese
by any means...he still looked like he could use a good tan. There was almost a
glow about him too...like he was radiating energy and power. He almost looked
like he was alive.
After
a moment of silence, he stood back up again and started stretching out his
arms. “That feels so much better...you two are great.”
Jin
smirked and stood too, looking down at his watch. “Because
we’re tasty. Anyhow, the fight starts in five...better get yourself
ready.”
As
Jin scraped Nina to her feet and held her up – since she’d flopped limply
against him – Kazuya got ready to go upstairs to the gates; final preparations
included microphones and the like being attached to him, along with a
run-through of the rules, which he wasn’t looking forward to. That would take
up most of the five minutes. Before he left however, he turned, bent down, and
gave Nina one hell of a passionate kiss...she didn’t hesitate to return it.
*
Upstairs, things were getting hectic. The microphone dude – Kazuya didn’t know
what else to call him – was getting bitchy about his clothes, because there was
nowhere to put the microphones. Bitchy was the right word too...he put Britney
Spears’ tantrums to shame.
“I
don’t care; you should have better taste in clothes!” He stamped his foot,
balled both fists, and huffed several times in front of the tall, slender
Mishima. “There’s nowhere to put the microphones, and we have to put them on
NOW!”
Kazuya
rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly. “Look, why do we need the stupid
things on this time anyhow? And why don’t you put one on my belt like you did
last time?”
There
was a momentary pause in movement. Great, the tough-as-nuts warrior just
provoked the Bitch.
“I
DON’T CARE WHAT YOU THINK!”
Even
Kazuya was blown away by that, and ended up sitting on his backside before the
petite French-looking man. After a moment he did stand back up though, and
grabbed the man by the collar. “Listen you, either you put the mike where you
can, or I’ll put my fist up your nose! I’ve had enough of your bitching!”
The
man let a whimper escape his throat, and as Kazuya let him drop, he scrambled
away. A moment later, he regained his composure and coughed, getting to his
feet. “Ahem...you two, uh...put the microphones on his belt! Two more minutes
to go...chop chop!” Before long, he was ornamented
with a mike on either side of his waist...they would catch all his speech and
the sounds of hits; rather important in a fight like he was about to engage in,
considering the sheer size of the crowd out there.
Finally
they were ready, and the announcements were being made as to the next
contestants...the crowd out there went wild with enthusiasm as the announcer
riled them up. As his name was called, rather dramatically of course, Kazuya
stepped into the stadium, heading toward the centre of the playing field; that
would be the fight arena.
As
he did, he was immediately deafened by the rising screams from the
audience...as he looked around, he saw massive numbers of people; the stadium
was packed! There were numerous banners being waved about, most of which had
something to do with him. He couldn’t believe it; he was the fighter most
people were cheering for!
After
a short look around, he spotted Jin and Nina sitting in the front row to his
left. Of course, both were waving wildly and cheering along with the thousands
upon thousands of fellow spectators surrounding them, despite their apparent
lack of energy from the blood loss. Smiling faintly, he returned the wave,
causing an even louder uproar from the crowd, if it were possible.
The
announcer, short moments after Kazuya reached the centre of the ‘arena’, called
Heihachi out from the opposite side of the stadium. He was dressed in wooden
sandals and nothing else but a white Mawashi...not a
pleasant sight on a man of seventy-five years. Kazuya groaned inwardly...he
wasn’t only embarrassing himself in that attire, but everyone else in his
family along with him...including Jin, who’d slapped his forehead with one hand
at the sight and was shaking his head in despair.
The
crowd’s cheering dropped back slightly as the elderly warrior entered the
arena; after all, he didn’t quite have the same number of supporters in the
arena. He was known for being cruel and cold, and his days were nearly over, or
so most of the crowd had judged. His opponent, on the other hand, was
relatively unknown; most didn’t know him from the first and second Iron Fist
tournaments, and to add to it, he was young and handsome...a more popular
choice for the women in the audience...and a few men.
Speaking
of which, an admirer was in the audience, sitting high in one of the expensive
private boxes above the stadium. Lee Chaolan had always secretly admired his
brother’s physical prowess, mental endurance, and all-over cold exterior toward
what would usually rile the younger silver-haired man into extreme violence, or
at least a heated response. Kazuya, in short, was everything Lee wanted to be,
but he didn’t resent him for it, he held him in the highest respects. For a
start, that was the single reason he continued at the Zaibatsu after Heihachi
was expelled for the first time. That was also the reason he’d paid a fortune
for one of the best seats in the house to watch this final battle.
However,
neither Kazuya nor Heihachi were aware of their foster family member’s
presence; they were aware of only each other – no one else registered. Not the
crowd, not the deafening noise of human cries and cheers, not the announcer babbling
endlessly in the background...only their hatred for the other; that hatred
would soon be fulfilled, indulged, and ended. There would only be one survivor
of this match.
Both
regarded each other in an equally steely scowl, unmoving in the warm air hanging
about them. From a distance, the announcer stood, watching the pair. A moment
passed, and he finally announced the beginning of the battle.
“Final
round: no tag battle, no time limit, no desperation attacks permitted. Ready? Fight!”
Of
course, with no time limit, there was no need to leap right into things. His
Gi-clad arms held high in front of his chest, Kazuya began to slowly circle
around the old man, searching for an opening. As usual, however, Heihachi’s
guard was flawless, and he would, as per usual, prove a deadly opponent. This
wouldn’t be a pushover, no matter how much extra speed and strength he was
provided with as a vampire. The old man defeated Fury and Combot – both weren’t
human. There was no guarantee that supernatural abilities affirmed success.
Heihachi
joined him in circling, searching for an opening in the same manner. For at
least a quarter of a minute this continued; a painfully long time in terms of a
fight – striding back and forth, sliding one foot behind the other, then turning
the other way, and back again. Finally, Heihachi smirked and snorted with
laughter.
“You’re
taking this nice and slowly aren’t you, baka?”
Kazuya
smirked right back. “I’m only trying to keep myself from catching a view of
those flabby ass-cheeks of yours.”
That
earned him an infuriated makeshift right hook from the old man’s bound fist.
The anger in the attack made it predictable nevertheless, despite the speed and
power, and Kazuya sidestepped the attack, grabbed the incoming arm with his
right hand, and performed one of his trademark throws; his right leg swung high
over Heihachi’s head, then came crashing down again, throwing him sideways and
face-first into the concrete. As the crowd went wild with excitement, he hopped
back and stood guard. Funny how no one seemed to predict he’d ever use
Bitch-kicks to start off in a fight.
Spitting
a little blood, Heihachi scraped himself off the ground, obviously a little
more than annoyed already. As he stood, Kazuya stepped toward him, ready to
throw a long-range punch with his right, but was intercepted and thrown back by
both of his father’s fists flying at him, palms open and held together
vertically.
The
impact wasn’t enough to keep him down for long, however, and he simply flipped
back up onto his feet from that position, as ungainly as it was. He too wasn’t
impressed with the sudden violent attacks, but he wouldn’t fall for the trick
of a hasty attack, like Heihachi had earlier. As the old man dashed toward him
again, he countered the attack by ducking low, and swinging his right leg about
beneath him, letting his body complete two revolutions on that pivot point; his
left foot. Slow and awkward, but effective; Heihachi was caught by the swinging
leg, tripping over it, and landed flat on his bared backside on the hot
concrete.
The
sheer heat of the ground was enough to get the older Mishima up rather hastily,
though he didn’t drop his guard to nurse his assaulted rear. He let it steam as
much as it wanted as Kazuya flew toward him...with an attack he’d never seen
before. So far, Kazuya had only come up with a few attacks of his own; the rest
he’d hand-taught the boy. But this one; it was, for once, incredibly swift.
Before he knew what was happening, he was met with an unnaturally fast flying
kick, and under the force of the extending leg, and the seventy-eight kilograms
of raw muscle hurtling toward him, he was thrown back again.
Once
again, he found himself lying on the ground, with Kazuya waiting for him to
stand. It was time to teach the cocky bastard a lesson or two in fighting.
Flipping
up onto his sandal-clad feet, Heihachi stooped low as he righted himself, then
launched upward in a rather powerful and most definitely painful uppercut with
his right fist. Kazuya, unsuspecting of the attack, took the full brunt of the
fist in the jaw, and cried out in pain as he stumbled backward, landing
unceremoniously on the hard concrete ground.
A
snarl escaped the younger man’s lips as he stood, wiping his mouth on the back
of his Gi sleeve. He threw the arm aside violently in disgust, then raised both before him again, blocking whatever
Heihachi had to throw at him next. For the moment, neither made a move; they
simply waited for the other to fight.
In
the front row of the arena, Nina and Jin were shrieking at their comrade at the
top of their lungs. Between them sat a large, half-eaten bag of candy, two bags
of pink fluffy candy-floss, and two oversized cups of soft drink...they needed
the sugar almost as much as the warriors at the centre of the arena did. Jin
was appalled; Kazuya was fighting and blocking terribly today. Nina was equally
appalled...and wanted to throttle the old bastard for hurting her lover.
High
above them, the massive screens displayed various angles of the fighters in
relative close-up for those that were too far away to get a good view. Over the
powerful speaker system, every word, every hit, grunt, cry of pain, every
breath was broadcast at considerable volume...serving only to make the final
battle of the Fourth King of Iron Fist Tournament all the more dramatic.
Finally,
after the prolonged period of inactivity from either fighter, Kazuya decided to
move. Stepping forward, he feigned a short medium-range punch, only to pull
back as Heihachi stepped back to parry it...as he pulled back, his right leg
shot up in an almost painfully high roundhouse to strike the old man in the
side of the head. For a moment, Heihachi wavered, then
collapsed to the ground as he saw stars for just a second or so. As he fell,
Kazuya leapt forward with his flying kick again, striking Heihachi in the
chest, throwing him into the concrete ground again.
With
a grunt, Heihachi righted himself again, dusting off what little clothing he
was wearing quickly before standing guard again. This was terrible – Kazuya was
proving to be more difficult than usual. He would soon put an end to that.
Surging forth once more, he reached out for Kazuya with his right arm.
Mistaking the attack for a punch, Kazuya readied himself to block...but found,
in a flash, his head being caught under the old man’s arm, bent on his knees,
and as a result of the painful grip around his neck, he was unable to
breathe...thus unable to defend himself.
Along
with half of the crowd, Nina stood in front of her seat, gasping. Clasping both
hands over her mouth, she watched on in horror as brilliant yellow sparks flew
around the old man’s body, and Kazuya’s struggles got him seemingly nowhere.
She put her hands around her lips like a funnel a second later, crying out
toward the centre of the stadium. “Come on Kazuya! Fight him!”
Choking
for breath as it was, Kazuya was hardly in a state to even hear her over the
din. He managed to choke out his disgust at his father’s tactics, however. “You
cowardly bastard...”
With
that, Heihachi tightened his grip and pulled back at a dangerous angle,
snapping Kazuya’s neck backward. A unanimous gasp rose from the crowd as the
younger man fell back onto the arena floor, lifeless. Smirking, Heihachi stood
over him, arms crossed over his immense chest.
“Well,
well, look what we have he-NNGH!”
Before
he could continue, the raven-haired warrior had swung a leg out whilst lying on
the ground, flipped the old man onto his back, and sat on his waist, both legs
curled around one of Heihachi’s slightly longer legs. Grabbing the ankle with
both hands, he forced the leg to bend and pull down at an unnatural angle,
wrenching a cry of pain from the old man’s throat.
This
time, it was Kazuya’s turn to smirk. He stood, rubbing his assaulted neck, and
drew his arms in front to guard. Jun Kazama’s self defence attacks were useful
after all, he decided. “What exactly do we have here, old fart?”
With
a snarl, Heihachi got to his feet again, standing uneasily on his mildly
damaged leg. If anything, it was painful...but not badly enough to affect his
combat efficiency. “You sly little bitch.”
That
was almost enough to tip Kazuya over the edge...it was that kind of insult,
coming from that creep, that was one of the few things
that angered him. Without warning, he stepped forward, slamming his left foot
into Heihachi’s head, the right fist in a high punch into his jaw, the right
foot into another high roundhouse, then a final Entrails Smash into the
gut...sending Heihachi falling to the ground again. This time, Kazuya came down
with a rather violent stomp onto the ground, merely missing Heihachi’s chest as
he hastily rolled away.
Clambering
to his feet, Heihachi wasted no time in returning the favour, despite the dull
ache in his midsection after the attacks. Leaping into the air, he kicked out
at the younger man with one foot, and using the impact from the attack, he spun
around, still in the air, and struck with the other foot on a half revolution.
With the sheer force and power behind the attack, Kazuya found himself
sprawling to the ground once more, unable to move for a second or so.
He
rolled over a moment after, thankfully, and stood up. Darkly, he chuckled at
the situation. “Why do I get the feeling this is going to be one of those
fights where we spend more time on our backs than on our feet?”
“Probably because you’re a hopeless fighter.”
Kazuya
snorted. “Hey, who’s the one with more injuries?”
It
was true...Heihachi was already bleeding in several places, and in comparison,
Kazuya had only a few rising bruises and a split lip. It hurt to smirk, so he
avoided doing so. Again, he leapt at the older man, coming forth with a fury of
punches.
In
the audience, Nina and Jin glanced at each other nervously. Shouting above the
noise of the crowd, Jin felt the urge to comment; “This is the longest fight so
far...unfortunately the odds seem quite even!”
Nina
scowled at the old man. “Kazuya will beat him though...he’s got better
stamina!”
Sighing,
Jin watched the fight on the screen for a moment, before looking back down at
the actual figures engaged in a brutal punching and kicking session. At the
moment, it seemed neither were really going for style,
just beating the hell out of the other with haymaker kicks and punches.
Heihachi pulled out another violent uppercut which Kazuya only partially
blocked, sending him stumbling backward across the arena. Several steps
backward, however, and he caught his balance, and ran straight back at the old
man. As he got into range, he jumped, raising one knee, and landed a leaping
side-kick directly into the old man’s chest.
Somehow,
it still didn’t keep him down; Heihachi got to his feet again, wiping sweat
from his brow. Kazuya once again surged forward, ready to attack, but the elder
fighter swung around backward, the struck out with a powerful back-fist into
the stomach, sending the younger warrior flying backward across the arena
again.
By
now it was obvious who the crowd was supporting; with each fall of the
raven-haired fighter, there was a gasp or a boo. Every
time Kazuya landed a significant hit, the crowd roared. Kazuya caught himself
as he slid backward, and bounced back onto his feet. It was time to end this;
the fight had drawn on too long. Both fighters by now were losing their oomph,
and the fight had dragged on for almost five minutes. As Heihachi ran toward
him, Kazuya ducked low and stepped forward, fist ready to strike. An
opportunity arose as the older fighter was caught off guard with this tactic,
and was sent flying high into the air as Kazuya rose with considerable power in
the strike...the Demon Godfist. He himself was propelled around a foot into the
air with the sheer force of the attack, but landed neatly on his feet.
Heihachi, on the other hand, plummeted into the ground far away, and stayed
there for what seemed like forever.
The
crowd went absolutely berserk; the fight was over. Kazuya slowly approached the
figure on the ground a few metres away, trying to ignore the horrible view of
the Mawashi from between the old man’s legs. He stood
beside him from a few feet away, arms folded over his heaving chest.
From
the ground, the old eye’s snapped open, and stared up at his son. His face
displayed his livid anger at his defeat...between his teeth, he snarled;
“We...are...not...done...yet...”
Kazuya
smirked, and dragged him up by the wrist, throwing him back. The old man
stumbled, but caught himself. His breathing was ragged at this point, and he
was uncertain on his feet.
“We
are done...but if you think you must continue, then be my guest. I will only
have to kill you.”
With
a roar of utter rage, Heihachi threw himself at the shorter man, the fist
extending dangerously close to Kazuya’s face...surprised, he stepped
aside...making way for Heihachi to crumple back to the ground.
The
temptation was almost too great; there he was, the man who’d stolen and ruined
his life before it had begun, the man who’d tortured and beaten him throughout
his youth, the man who’s ruined his reputation, caused him to become this
loathsome creature...here he was, lying at his feet, defenceless, defeated. All
it took was one strike...one decisive blow...to end that wicked life right
there and then.
But
he saw several things that stopped him before the deadly blow was dealt; the
audience, and the people within it. Everyone was already cheering; there was no
need to cause bloodshed. Nina, watching on with those beautiful eyes of
hers...sure, she was an assassin, a professional killer...but he felt no need
to show her his bloodthirsty nature. She already knew of it, he had no need to
prove it further by killing. And Jin...the last embers of his
saviour’s soul...watching on, his face unreadable. Whilst he saw a lot
of himself in the boy’s visage, he radiated the beauty, compassion and love of
Jun Kazama. The innocence, the delicate nature of the late Jun Kazama...it was
enough to turn his blood cold at the mere thought of killing...especially in
front of such a massive audience.
Finally,
with a sigh, he crouched down in front of the old man, pulling his face up at
the neck with one hand. For almost eternity, the two exchanged their vehement
glares; then Kazuya spoke. “As much as you have tried to make me become
you...your efforts have been in vain. I am not like you...I do not kill for no
reason. As much as you deserve to die...I won’t lower myself to your disgusting
level and take even the most vile and undeserving life of them all. As you
promised, the Zaibatsu is mine...but your life is yours. Do what you will with
your remaining years...but rest assured, if I see you in
He
let the old man’s head drop to the concrete floor, and with an emotionless
visage, he left the arena, and headed back underground to clean up. The
Zaibatsu was his. Once again, he’d defeated his archenemy. Once again, he was
victorious. But this time, this time, he would not make the same mistake of
letting his arrogance get the better of him; he would make the Zaibatsu worth
something – honest, and powerful. Heihachi would return, he knew it...but, as
he’d learned over the last twenty years, there are so many more punishments so
much worse than death.