Crimson
Chapter 20:
Otousan
***
The hotel function hall was once again decked up and
fancied-up enough to be fit for a king; today, it was for the King of Iron
Fist. Like a week ago, it was packed with people dressed in their finest
clothes, with buffet cocktail tables littered about the room, each lavished
with golden and crisp white table cloths and excessive numbers of flower vases;
even the massive chandeliers above the crowd had been tended to, with
golden-hued spotlights reflecting their light upon the crystals, and down onto
the people below.
Nina Williams, sitting contentedly on a chair by a
table near the front of the room, was being interviewed by a local TV reporter.
One long, creamy leg was propped up over the other, exposing itself from
underneath the deep blue satin dress she was wearing. Jin, on the other side of
the table, was chatting happily with Miharu rather than staring at the bared
skin like he might have in the past. The spare seat at the table was obviously
for the one who’d be giving him glares for doing so, after all, and no one knew
when he was coming.
Looking rather depressed and disgruntled, Heihachi sat
at a table up on the stage behind the lectern. His black tuxedo was obviously
tailored just for him, and would have been extremely expensive...but from what
the proceedings were about, it would soon become the most expensive thing he
owned – if Kazuya let him keep it.
There were guest speakers every now and again for the
next hour, between sessions of orchestral music played by a live band; the
atmosphere was one of happiness and joy, yet at the same time, as formal as an
occasion could get. The scene was making Jin thoroughly uncomfortable, since he
wasn’t used to wearing so many clothes, such stiff clothes, and clothes that
wanted to strangle him. He felt completely out of place. That, and his father
didn’t seem to know that ‘fashionably late’ meant just a little late, not very
late.
Finally, he decided to appear; the double doors at the
back of the room opened, and claps and cheers erupted from the crowd as the
tall Japanese man strode into the hall, in the same colours as everyone else
for once. From a distance, Nina was unable to read the expression on his face.
It seemed he had gone with the usual stoic, cold, emotionless look, but as he
drew closer, she could almost feel the pride radiating from him. He’d defeated
his father, that’s what was making him feel so good, she knew...not because he
was now one of the richest men in the world.
A foray of cameramen and men and women armed with
microphones surged forward and began harassing him with questions, but he
didn’t even acknowledge their presence. Instead, he pushed past them and headed
over to Nina, placing a quick kiss on her cheek. After doing so, he smiled
softly at her.
“My, you’re in high spirits...I wasn’t expecting
that.”
He smiled a little more. “I’d be happier if I hadn’t
been held up for an hour fighting off television crews and the like...what did
I miss?”
She leaned back coyly, resting one elbow on the table
next to her, and at the same time, exposing her cleavage. “Oh, nothing but a
whole pile of boring speakers...I think the only interesting speech is going to
be yours.”
He glanced down at his watch. “Well...I don’t think
you’ll have time to get bored with mine.”
“Good...I’ve heard enough speeches for one evening.”
Smiling again, he headed off toward the stage where
Heihachi was seated, and, reluctantly, sat in the seat next to him. Another
speaker stepped forward and began explaining the situation; what was to be
handed over, the rules and requirements of the Japanese government in the
decision, and various other boring regulations to a half-interested audience.
The feeling of revolt began to rise in the back of Heihachi’s throat as the man
droned on...he was going to lose everything to that wretched son of his. He’d
maintained the Zaibatsu for so many years, and now, because of his mistake in
luring Kazuya out, he was going to be forced to give it all away. He didn’t
deserve this, did he?
Kazuya, on the other hand, was feeling violated by
even being close to the old man...he felt dirty by being within that creature’s
space, and had to resist the urge to go to the other side of the room.
Admittedly, it would be one hell of a night to get through, what with all the
legalities to get through; it wouldn’t be a short evening by any means.
Over the next half an hour, the scene became that of
formal seriousness and filled to the brim with legal jargon. Document after
document was signed by various persons, promises were made, and each of the
Mishima men was required to speak. Heihachi’s grudging speech was almost
depressing...he managed to make most of the audience feel guilty for supporting
the Zaibatsu’s change of hands...for the time being. As Kazuya spoke, their
minds, in most cases, were changed. Heihachi was a cruel, ruthless man, and
while he maintained the company, it was in cold blood and, sometimes, with
criminal intent.
More documents were signed after this, just when it
seemed to be winding down. Jin glanced over at Nina in dismay, and she only
reflected the same expression. Miharu stirred slightly on his lap as he sighed,
but snuggled back up against his chest a moment later, falling back to sleep. If only I were so lucky, he thought to
himself, watching her in peaceful slumber.
“Tell you what; I’ll be lucky if either of us will be
awake by the time this is over. No luck for Nina tonight...” she whispered to
Jin, smiling somewhat.
Jin pulled a face, but smirked. “You’re not meant to
talk about that stuff with me!” He whispered in return, not particularly
wanting to know about his dad’s love life.
“Aww phooey...you’re not fun!”
Again, things seemed to wind down, and by now, a small
portion of the audience had already left. Kazuya glanced over to the man
sitting next to him, who seemed to be trying to hold his dinner down, and
making quite a job of it too. As he signed his name to the very last document,
something caught his attention. Familiarity.
It was something familiar. That was the annoyance of the curse; this sixth
sense. He could never quite explain it; he knew there was a presence – it made
him feel nostalgic, warm, safe, yet at the same time, on edge and very aware of
his surroundings. It was someone ne knew, and from the way he was feeling...it
was someone of his kind.
For the time being, he ignored that presence, and
concentrated on the task at hand. The papers were taken from him, and a speaker
began to close the ceremony. Heihachi beside him sighed loudly and sank even
lower on his chair. Somehow, something deep inside Kazuya compelled him to feel
just a little bit sorry for this creature...but the rest of him was too busy
laughing. Finally, justice had been served; there was no room for sympathy.
Then, there was that feeling again. This time, his
dark eyes snapped up toward the back wall...that someone was over there. Images
of the volcano flashed before his eyes, forcing him to blink sharply and sit
back in surprise. Thankfully, no one really noticed, from what he could see.
The images remained; memories of falling, feeling his flesh burn, choking
weakly in the haze. Then the feeling of a cool touch – a cold hand on his
shoulder – frighteningly comforting, considering the volcano had been
unbearably hot...
He knew who that someone was, now. No doubt he was
here to lecture him too...but he’d have to leave it until later. Somehow, he
lost interest in the occasion completely. Thankfully, it was ending, and people
were leaving...as he stepped down to go home, the reporters charged at him
again...but found getting through the crowd already around him quite difficult.
After answering a few questions and managing to escape the few remaining
fan-girls (oh how he hated their kind) he left the building, somehow managing
to evade too much more unwanted attention.
Perhaps it was how well he blended into the night; as
if he didn’t exist.
Surprisingly no one followed him; he made his way out
into the cool night are alone, since Nina and Jin had already returned home.
The reporters had finally got the message and left him to himself, and almost
everyone else had gone home already as well.
The night’s proceedings had left his mind in somewhat
of a turmoil. He’d defeated his father, finally, but he’d allowed him to live.
He was now CEO of the Zaibatsu, but he didn’t particularly want it. He finally
had people he cared about, yet still he felt alone. There was so much to think
about, to consider, to do...it was a good thing he was happiest at night, and
intended to spend the night awake, or he’d find himself at a loss as to how to
force himself to sleep.
As he made his way casually through
He followed his instincts and headed down darker
streets; the lack of street lights, other than the massive roadside lamps,
ensured the atmosphere was one of a dark, dreary orange. The presence still
lingered.
Finally, he stopped, still looking directly ahead. The
presence came no closer, went no further.
“You’re just going to keep on following me, aren’t
you?” His deep voice was so quiet it could barely be heard.
A masculine voice, nowhere near as deep as his own,
replied. “If I have to...”
Kazuya turned around half way, and looked over his
suited shoulder. Standing behind him was a rather lanky-looking man, barely an
adult – if that at all. He was most definitely Japanese in origin, though he
didn’t look anything like modern-day youths. His dark hair was long, and drawn
back into a ponytail behind his head; there was almost something old-world
about him.
Turning around, Kazuya sighed softly and folded his
arms over his chest. “What is it you’re going to lecture me about this time?”
The youth headed into the shadows without any further
words; Kazuya followed. As he too entered the darkened area, he saw him sitting
on a brick ledge in front of an iron-barred window, sitting at ground level.
“Kazuya-kun, I’m sure you know what I’m going to say...”
He sat down next to the smaller man, resting his arms
over his knees. “About associating with mortals?”
Nodding, the youth shifted so he could rest his elbows
against his legs. “When I found you, of course I had no idea what sort of a
person you’d turn out to be – I’d never met you. Of course, I realised very
quickly how...antisocial, you tend to be. I was actually happy at the idea;
because it was highly likely you wouldn’t involve yourself with mortals.”
Kazuya frowned at the ground. “This is the
twenty-first century, not the eighteenth. People aren’t as anti-undead as you
would imagine any longer.”
“I know, but it’s best they don’t know. There are
still slayers, still haters, still those who hide behind their prejudice like a
shield, saving them from the unknown. They don’t understand, mortals...they
assume.” A moment of silence hung over the two before the youth continued.
“That young blonde woman I’ve seen you with...”
“Nina?”
With the mention of a name, the younger man sighed
again, hanging his head slightly. “Yes, if that’s her name; Nina. I feel
sadness whenever I see you with her...you’re exposing yourself to her and her
kind so much; it may be your end. I can tell she’s dangerous...”
“She’s an assassin.” Kazuya could already see where
this was leading.
“All the more reason for me to be worried about you.”
Kazuya could feel the dark eyes against him, silently pleading with him.
“Please, Kazuya...don’t get too close, if you must continue to be close to her.
If she finds out...”
“She already knows.”
After another uneasy silence, Kazuya felt cold hands
against his cheeks. He looked up to see the youth staring down at him with
troubled eyes. “Kazuya...” It seemed he’d found himself lost for words.
“Kazuya, you’re like my son...I can’t stand seeing you in such danger...”
He reached up and wrapped one of his larger hands
around a bony wrist, and gently pulled it away. “Eimin, you may be older and
wiser than me, and you may have created me, so to speak...but you can never
again understand how I feel...I’m still human.” The hands left his face, and
Eimin silently fell to his knees in front of him. “I’m double-cursed; what took
my humanity away to begin with now ensures I keep what little I have left. The
demon spirit stops the curse of the undead from robbing me of it...”
Eimin knew it was true; but still, in the sense of the
undead, Kazuya was his son. He’d saved him from certain death in that volcano,
and delivered certain death in another way; rebirth into a new realm.
“I’ve also just won the most gruelling tournament the
world has to offer...I’m more than capable of looking after myself. I’m not a
child...” The look of defeat on the other man’s face made him feel almost
guilty for doing something so seemingly harmless.
“Alright, Kazuya.” He sighed again, and reached up to wrap
his arms around the larger man’s shoulders. “Just...don’t die, okay? You’re my
first, you know? The first I’ve ever given this life to...you’re the most
precious possession I have.”
Despite being called a possession, despite being
hugged overly affectionately, despite this almost child-like treatment, Kazuya
tolerated every moment of it, and responded with an arm around Eimin’s waist.
“You’d be surprised...I have a knack for surviving the most treacherous of
conditions and situations. Need I remind you of the fall I withstood as a
child, or your rescue of me from the volcano? I took out the gang that had us
as a bounty too, with the help of my son and Nina.” He ran the fingers of his
free hand through Eimin’s hair once, then sat it back down on the ledge. The
undead, after all, were affectionate toward each other – Kazuya was considered
rather antisocial by them in general. “If a skinny little creature like you can
survive two and a half centuries, I can survive twice that.”
The arms around him tightened for a moment, then
released; he felt a soft kiss against his forehead. Eimin actually smiled as he
stood. There was pride and love in those eyes, despite the inherent darkness of
their kind mingling amongst the emotions. “Alright, I believe you. You are the
King of Iron Fist, there’s little that can get in your way.”
Kazuya chuckled and stood as well. “You know
Eimin...you’re much more of a father than that bastard Heihachi ever was. I
think I might as well adopt you as my father...” The last comment was meant as
a joke, but he was half-serious. Eimin had, after all, endlessly cared for him,
taught him all he needed to know, and stayed eternally patient. Kazuya, after
all, was also known for being stubborn. He still refused to harm a human and
use them as sustenance meaninglessly, no matter how much he’d been almost
forced to do otherwise.
Before they parted, Eimin gave him another tight hug.
It was a situation in reverse; a teenager was father of a man who seemed to be
almost thirty years old. Saying nothing further, Eimin disappeared off into the
shadows, and Kazuya headed back toward the hotel. It would be their last night
here. In the morning, Heihachi would be moving out, and Kazuya and his newly
acquired family would be moving in.
***
When he did get back, the lights were out and he was greeted by the sounds of
two people snoring. Jin was by the window, passed out in his boxer shorts with
the covers kicked off, and Nina was snuggled up in Kazuya’s bed. Obviously
she’d expected him to be home just a little bit earlier, probably to get a
little ‘work’ done...but had fallen asleep long ago.
As he took off the majority of his clothing and hung
it up in the wardrobe, he watched her silently as she slept. It was pitch black
in the room, but he could see her perfectly. So beautiful, so peaceful; he
hadn’t the heart to wake her by climbing in beside her. She was his deadly
angel. Besides, his instincts were urging him to venture back out into the
night and feed. He would do the former of the two; but as usual, never the
latter. His hunger and cooling flesh would have to stay there, for the sake of
innocent humans.
He climbed out of the remainders of the tuxedo and
pulled on a casual shirt and baggy trousers, before venturing out into the
night once more. He might as well get some of the Zaibatsu work done now, since
he would feel drained and weakened during tomorrow’s daylight. Sometimes it
didn’t bother him too much, the sunlight that is, but other times, especially
on particularly sunny days, he felt a hundred years old. Work was never fun in
those conditions.
So, leaving his two sleeping beauties out cold in the
hotel room, he silently slipped out and to the main Zaibatsu office in the
heart of the city.