Déjà Vu

Chapter 4: The Roof Garden

***

For some reason, the sky seemed bluer than it had yesterday.

The fact that the weather had been equally as delicious for the last week, apparently, had absolutely no importance whatsoever in determining the uplifted mood of the azure world above him. He’d taken up residence on the roof garden of the G-Corporation building, and was staring up at the pale sapphire abyss above, watching the merry, light-hearted little white fluff-balls sail across its depths, as if there was nothing better to do in the world than float aimlessly. Below, way below, the anarchy of the city raged in all its glory; the blinking, flashing veins of the city’s streets raged with the volume of Tokyo traffic it was forced to contend with day after day, like a warrior’s circulatory system in the heat of battle – little coloured dots racing about in surprising uniformity, though it certainly looked like a close-up of living tissue through a microscope, with a perfect view of a capillary network.

Not that he could see the bustling streets, that is. He was flat on his back on a patch of grass – since the roof was a large place, occupied solely by a garden and a randomly placed elevator door – one ankle hooked over the other, arms beneath his neck, obsidian eyes locked on the blue nothingness above, almost as if in a trance.

It was so nice being alone sometimes. He’d learned, the hard way, that loneliness can be the ultimate source of depression...but occasionally, with idiots zooming around like rabid dogs, and for once – just this once – he noticed women staring him up and down in the complex...mainly because of his state of dress – a pair of slacks. Period. He was still in that same state of dress, soaking up the sun. Thankfully, the shadow of the tree behind him had moved, finally. Since it was now after three in the afternoon, the sun was at a less intense, slightly more comfortable angle.

Four hours he’d been up here now...it was nine when they finished the procedure, and ten by the time he’d managed to escape their ramblings on the full extent of the upgrades...after which, he’d discovered the roof garden, and had remained there since he found it.

In his mind, things had slowly begun to simmer down and relax. The anger, confusion, disorientation, violation...they’d all worn down somewhat into a more tolerable mixture. He’d become used to the idea – not that he liked it one single bit – that he couldn’t, and probably will, ever again, feel. Smell and taste were under that same category.

Yet, in the usual Kazuya Mishima stoicism, he had decided to wrestle with the brute of a fact, and beat it. He could do it easily. After all, he didn’t need any more angry outbursts of disapproval of his current state.

So far, it was working shakily. The sun, he knew, wasn’t heating him up in the slightest. He didn’t even feel cold, he felt nothing. But he was forcing his brain to think otherwise. Sun...it warms the skin, soaks into the flesh. Sun, in great quantities, burns. Sun makes clothes smell fresh. Sun is hot. The more he reminded himself, convinced himself, the more easily he could almost feel the burn in his mind. At this point, though it kept on fading, he could imagine his flesh feeling that beautiful sensation of lying under the sun, almost burning in its blissful rays. Since it had begun to work...he imagined children, women, boys and girls...running around with pails of sand, spades, towels, umbrellas, bikinis, surfboards, ice creams, waves, sand dunes, the hot grains beneath his toes, the salty coolness of the ocean, the rush of the waves hitting the shore, a screech or two from a sea-bird...

The days of his distant childhood. How sweet they must have been...he could barely remember the old days...before his soul died. He’d always considered his soul dead. That fall, at five years old, had let his body live...but his soul died down there. He was an empty husk of a human being, and had been since that day.

Or so he’d thought. Of course, Jun Kazama had proven her point – he was just mistreated and depressed. She’d shown him what it was like to be loved...as brief and intense as their relationship had been...and it had resulted in a son.

Jin. His only son. He loved the boy...though he’d never admitted it, least of all to Kazama’s face. Actions spoke louder than words, after all. How was he doing, as the Zaibatsu CEO? Successful? Married, perhaps? One day he’d go and find out. After he’d dealt with his old man.

Before he could let his mind wander to that topic, he resumed thinking of sun. He even threw the waves back in for good measure. He could almost smell the salt...and taste the salt too, like he’d done when he’d nearly disappeared beneath a wave at age three. His mother had dragged him out...both were in a state of hysteria...the worried woman nearly in tears, and Kazuya nearly in tears with laughter. Yes...how he’d loved escaping death from the very first breath.

No Kazuya, think sun. Sun! No more memories... He scolded himself for losing track so easily. Heat, warmth...he could do this. He could overcome this loss without stupid science messing him up even further.

Ah yes, heat. Heat came to mind. Beautiful, warm, golden heat. He almost smiled; he’d never realised how much he took for granted. He’d never been a sunshine person, and now, without it, he felt somewhat empty. There was a soul in there though, he could feel it. Without human senses in the way, he could feel it there. That too, made him almost smile. Almost.

Sun, fool, sun.

How easily the mind could wander. This was going to be harder than he thought. So, once again, he remembered heat. Lots of heat.

Too much heat. The sun vanished in a pool of molten magma before his very eyes...all he could see was the boiling, sizzling red rock beneath the sulphurous fumes. The memory forced him to sit up with a start. He shook his head about to clear the foul images, and tried to calm himself, distract himself, by admiring the garden surrounding him. In the past, he’d never been fascinated by nature, but today, for some reason, it had become the perfect retreat, predictably enough, from the horrendous world of technology. Though it was a roof, with concrete floors, trees grew around the place, amongst large hedges and carefully clipped grass. A lot of money had been put into laying down soil and foundations for this urban oasis.

A hollow laugh escaped his throat. What sort of black humour had life thrown upon him? Typical...as soon as he tries to help himself, he’d automatically be reminded of his brutal past. Maybe he should convince that young woman to wipe parts of his memory...she seemed to want to help him so much, why not take it a step further?

Then again, he wouldn’t remember to ‘wail on his father’, so that boy Hwoarang would have put it, for getting him into this mess. Ah well, he’d have to live with it. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll find happiness to bury himself in one day. One day.

The tranquillity of the garden was broken momentarily with the ‘ding’ of the lift arriving at the top floor. His raven eyes locked on the doors as they opened...it was none other than that woman who seemed to have latched onto him so far.

She saw him, smiled, and walked over casually, a long silver mug filled with some sort of piping hot liquid in one hand. He made no effort to shoo her away, nor to invite her to sit beside him...he simply watched her in her approach. Brushing her skirt beneath her, she sat down on the grass beside him, and rested the coffee precariously on the grass on her other side.

For a while, nothing was said. The two sat in complete silence...he’d always communicated best when not a word was spoken...and she seemed to have developed an affinity for him, somehow...she, so far, had been the only really human person around him...the only companion he’d had...throughout this whole bizarre ordeal.

He shifted slightly, and dragged his knees up so he could wrap his arms around them. The muscles in his back rippled faintly beneath the olive synthetic skin; it might as well have been real, at least visually and texturally. He thought for a moment...he didn’t know what to address her by, now that he felt the need to talk.

“Funny,” he began, his deep voice soft as the breeze floating warmly amongst the leaves in the tree behind him, “You know my name...in fact you seem to know everything about me...yet you haven’t even told me yours.”

She smiled through a sip of coffee. “Okazaki Hanii.”

The name was instantly familiar. She was a relation of a scientist from years and years ago...and how fitting. He’d discovered the method DNA goes about replicating...and here she was, working at the G-Corporation with genetics. “Alright...Miss Okazaki.”

Chuckling, she set her coffee down. “Please, just call me Hanii. My colleagues about the place call me Ha-chan.”

“Ha-chan...Interesting nickname.”

She perked a brow. “It’s not that unusual...haven’t you got a nickname? Everyone has a nickname...” Of course he doesn’t, she thought to herself.

Of course, he shook his head. “No, I don’t think anyone dares. Even my cheeky brother always called me Kazuya. Everyone else calls me ‘Mr Mishima’...” His tone was dry, almost as if bored with the idea of being referred to by his family name.

“That’s sad,” Hanii muttered, and took another sip of coffee, before continuing. “With all due respect...it’s pretty boring to be called by nothing but your given names...”

That sounded to him like he was a military general...with all due respect...where’d that spring from? He forced back a smile before it broke out on his now youthful face. “Well, if you’re going to be like that...my mother used to call me Kazu-chan when I was very young...or just Kazzy...” A hint of red crept across the top of his cheeks. Back then it was fine...but on a grown man? Kazzy? The faded, distant memories of his mother were sobering, but at the same time, it brought warmth to him inside...warmth. Why hadn’t he thought of that earlier?

Hanii giggled softly into her mug. “Kazzy...that’s adorable. But I think I’d better follow the trend and keep it official. After all...I don’t think I’d dare cross lines that ought not to be crossed...”

He arched a brow, and glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “What do you mean?”

Her fingers fumbled nervously with the handle of the mug. She could feel herself digging, digging...little clods of earth and grass flying about from the hole she was digging in the ground. “Well...most people are scared of showing you any disrespect...most don’t want to get clobbered.”

At that, he laughed quietly and shook his head slowly in disbelief. And to think, in his history of fifty-eight years, the only people he’d ever clobbered were opponents in battles. He had always considered violence without justification to be a result of lack of control, discipline, and taste. “That’s ridiculous.”

She swallowed a mouthful of caffeine. “How so?” Digging further and further...almost two feet now. Only four more to go.

“Well, for a start, there’s the fact that I don’t ‘clobber’ anyone without a good reason.” He indicated the first point with one long, slender finger extended. “Secondly, there’s the fact that I don’t really expect that ‘respect’...I never quite understood it myself...I did little to earn it, yet I seem to get it, along with fear and resentment.” A middle finger was extended with that next point. “And of course...what’s the harm in calling me Kazuya? It’s not like I’ll thump anyone just for calling me that...that’d be extremely bad taste, and, more to the point, rather embarrassing and unnecessary on my behalf.” He held up the three extended fingers. “There, three reasons why it’s ridiculous to be so scared of me you can’t call me Kazuya...”

Hanii smiled and rested a small hand on Kazuya’s bared shoulder. “Alright then...Kazuya...” The name rolled tentatively off the tip of her tongue...but at least she said it. It had slipped out before, but out of haste. Now that she knew he didn’t mind, it seemed so much more sincere, so much more of a privilege to call the former richest, most powerful, strongest man in the world by his first name...it was almost affectionate. The mere thought sent a thrill through her bones...it excited her.

He smiled softly in return, and touched her hand lightly with his fingertips of the opposite arm’s hand. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

It seemed he wasn’t the harsh, violent man the media had made him out to be. He looked formidable and ferocious...those cold eyes, those harsh eyebrows, the sculpted features...but when he smiled and talked in that soft, gentle tone...he transformed into the most gorgeous creature she’d ever laid eyes on. She had to admit...the reason she wanted to help him so badly, from the day she was assigned to work on his ruined body and developing android self, was because of the compassion she felt when she first cast eyes upon him. He looked like a lonely, depressed man...despite the reputation he’d been given by the media.

She sighed softly. “I know...I guess I was just being dramatic like everyone else on this planet.” After a moment, she realised he was growing a little uneasy with her closeness...what with her leaning on his shoulder like he was her possession or something. She sat back. “You act as if you’ve never had a close friend.”

A near-silent, bitter laugh escaped him. “I’ve never had a friend period.”

The urge to gasp, cry, hug and kiss him to make it all better was almost overwhelming...but she kept her cool, for his sake. “Well in that case...if you like a friend...whenever you need one...I’ll be right here...”

There was silence for a moment. He didn’t know how to respond...a friend? Not a colleague, an associate...a friend. The smile came inevitably...one of the many he’d made today as compared to usual. Hanii’s heart melted at the sight...he was such a beauty, particularly when he looked happy. “A friend...is much appreciated. Domo arigatou...”

She couldn’t resist...with a happy squeak, she tossed her arms around his neck in a tight embrace, almost knocking him down, and succeeded in doing so to her coffee. “You’re very very welcome, Kazuya.” Before he got the chance to become uncomfortable again, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek...not without marvelling at how realistic the soft, warm skin turned out to be. The G-Corporation would no doubt win countless prizes at science fairs for this piece of cutting-edge brilliance.

He did indeed turn out to look quite embarrassed by her outburst, but said nothing. She coughed lightly and retrieved her spilled cup, righted it, and set it down again. “You know...we could really use you on the team with our next project.”

He perked a brow. “Why would you need me? I’m no scientific genius...”

Great, how do you tell him you need a guinea-pig, and he’s the prime candidate? You don’t. “Well...you’re the one with the machinery we’re centring the research on...that, and you have a lot of knowledge that could be put to better work than lounging around. You don’t want to put that great intellect to waste, do you?”

He scoffed at that remark. “Intellect? What intellect?” He muttered something in English, then returned to Japanese a moment later. “I’m nothing unusual you know...I just know how to play almost any game thrown in front of me.”

Hanii shook her head. “Playing games doesn’t make you the most successful CEO in world history to date...and your past experiences, as horrible as they were, have only made you a better person...”

Kazuya had seriously considered walking off at that point...his low opinion of himself was bordering on considering her words to be dripping in sarcasm. “Whatever you say.” His words certainly were.

“Well...whatever you think...what do you say? Will you help us?”

He shrugged. What else was there to do? At least if he was on the team, he could supervise their stupidity and get some results, faster, and find out what the hell was going on at the same time as everyone else was.

“Alright, I’m in.”

Smiling, she stood, and grasped one of his hands, dragging him up off his feet. Emotionlessly as usual, he followed her once more; though inside, he was smiling...smiling with the knowledge that he had a purpose. After all, if everything went smoothly from now on...he’d be the old Kazuya again pretty soon...only, slightly improved here and there...