Jakunen Mirai
Chapter 16: The Future Ain’t So Dark
***
Jin’s face remained stoic as he let the heavy bag drop down beside
his feet...Kazuya’s face seemed to do the same...except, in the golden
luminescence of the mansion’s lights, he could see the colour had drained from
his father’s face.
Silence ensued for what seemed twice as long as reality depicted.
Finally, Kazuya pushed the door open further, his expression softening. “I
wasn’t expecting you...”
Jin couldn’t think of an answer immediately, and simply nodded and
entered as Kazuya ushered him inside, dragging his overstuffed bag with him.
The tension in the air was rising considerably, and Jin knew that it was his
presence that was causing it...his silence, and the previous icy way he’d
treated his father before the tournament ended. Even as they sat down on the
sofas further in the house, he still hadn’t found the words to say. What do you
say to the father you’ve never known?
The silence was broken after a few more long,
uneasy seconds of silence. “You been in
He let the handles of the bag finally drop to the floor, rather
than fiddle with them the entire time. “Uh, not long, no...” With the month or
so he’d spent recovering back home in
He’d also found himself thinking of the present – he’d been
particularly cold to Kazuya over the course of the tournament, and at times,
rather hostile. At the time, he’d prided himself in restraint – he’d wanted to
simply kill the man for his ‘evil doings’, and sharing around the ‘Devil Gene’.
He’d thought the time for revenge would come when Heihachi would have been
defeated. Fate, however, had always been his enemy.
Again, he noticed the heavy, tense silence that’d fallen across
the room since he last spoke. Neither of the Mishimas were
particularly good at starting conversation, it seemed. Kazuya tried not to
distract himself, so it seemed, as he awaited more or thought of something to
say...Jin shifted uncomfortably. Then he remembered.
After shifting somewhat on the couch, he spoke again, softly,
carefully. “I thought that I’d go back to
“I decided to go back to Yakushima and see what was left of my old
home. Apparently, it was the same as the day I left it – since Okaasan always
insisted I kept the windows shut on windy days. Everything was perfectly
intact. It was about two days ago I’d arrived there...I thought I might sleep
out there while I thought of what to do with my life.
“Before nightfall I decided to hunt around and see if I could find
any of my old treasures – not that I had many.” He smiled a little and pulled
his foot up under the opposite knee on the couch. “I actually found a few old
photo albums in my Okaasan’s room under the bed. Most of them were of myself and her over the years...but the oldest one, the
dustiest one...it was from before I was born.”
The more Jin said, he could see, the more Kazuya became
interested. At the mention of the old photos, the ones he mostly objected to
have had of him, made his face drain of colour once again. It was almost too
much...Jun, his Jun...she’d kept the pictures as a
memory of him...which were now a memory of her.
Jin continued. “Until then, I’d still been convinced that you were
the evil man that Heihachi made you out to be...even though you’d been so
different when I met you. I know...call me gullible. Okaasan always tried to
make sure I never made judgements...but I always did, no matter what she said.
“I sat on the floor next to the bed for hours, well into the
darkness of night...just staring at the old images.” He grinned cheekily,
shifting again slightly. “You never smiled much, did you?”
A shy smile fell across Kazuya’s face, and he turned his head
slightly to hide it somewhat. As he did, Jin rustled around in the front pocket
of his bag. “Funny how even most of the pictures still didn’t convince me of
Heihachi’s lying. But you know what made me come here?”
A thick brow rose on the older man’s forehead, and Jin handed him
a small piece of thick paper just as he found it.
The expression on the older Mishima’s face was classic – pain,
relief, love, lust, sadness, longing...every emotion possible was on his face
at once, clear as daylight. For the first time ever, Jin saw every single one
of those emotions on Kazuya’s face – unhidden, unrestrained.
The little picture was a badly taken happy-snap, that was a
given...but the people in it were so much more important than the skill of the
photographer. Jun, happy and full of laughter as ever, was smiling broadly at
the camera. One of her hands grasped the much larger one gently resting on her
stomach; the other was wrapped around the foreign hand’s owner’s head, her own
resting against his cheek. Kazuya had that one hand around his love, the other
lightly grasping her upper arm. The closeness of the happy pair was beautiful
enough on its own; it was the smile on Kazuya’s face that made it so
heartbreaking in this day and age. It was the only photo in the entire world
where he was smiling happily, freely, and broadly – to the point of exposing
teeth! There was not a look of evil about him, no hint of malice...he was
completely benign; a happy man with the one true love of his life in his arms.
Jin watched the emotions cycle around in his father’s eyes. He’d
made an effort to conceal them, but not a great enough effort at all; it was
still so clear in his eyes what he was feeling; the entire minute or so he was
staring at that photograph, he was a rainbow of long-hidden emotion. Finally
the older man looked up, his eyes glistening clearly with tears – not one dared
to fall; they just remained sitting in his eyes, not daring to move.
The younger man smiled softly, wrapping his arms around his knees.
“I brought it for you to have...it’s the prettiest picture of Okaasan I’ve seen
before, and it’s the only smile I’ve ever seen on you.”
It was true. Though the photographer was hopeless – some random
passer-by who’d been asked to take the picture – it was still the most
beautiful photo of the long-parted couple in existence. Kazuya sat back,
holding it with both hands against his stomach. After a moment he smiled again,
not nearly as wide as the smile in the photo...but substantially enough. “Thank
you...” He would guard that photograph with his life.
The two sat for at least three hours longer, finally able to talk
freely and comfortably in each other’s presence, what with the tension gone and
all. It was finally time for father and son to get to know each other – past,
present; passions, hatreds. Eventually it even drifted on to talk of hobbies –
not that either had hobbies to speak of – and the like.
It was well after
“It’s funny...Okaasan never spoke of you when I was younger...”
Again, Kazuya felt oddly uncomfortable as he pushed his emotional
response to the back of his head. “I can imagine why, I suppose...she probably
didn’t see me as a good role model for a father, after all...”
Jin thought about that...no, he doubted that was the reasoning
behind it. What, after that photograph Kazuya was nervously fingering. “I think
it was because it hurt her to speak of you to me.” The seconds of silence that
followed grew unbearable, and Jin spoke again. “I’d asked many times when I was
very young...the excuse was always ‘I’ll tell you when you’re older’, but the
time never came. I’d asked about you at an older age, once...it reduced her to
tears. She just couldn’t bring herself to say anything. I’d wondered about the
conditions of my conception...and Heihachi only fuelled those false beliefs.
Okaasan had spent many an evening looking at old books, books she never let me
see...I know now they’re the photo albums back home.”
His heart was doing strange acrobatics in his chest beneath that
massive scar. She loved him? She truly loved him? He’d always hoped so, but
had, at the same time, doubted it. Now he knew to cast those doubts aside. He
sighed softly. “If I knew the both of you were alive back then...I would have
searched for you.”
The younger man blinked and perked a brow. Kazuya elaborated. “As
you well know, my father thought it entertaining to dispose of me into a live
volcano; as you can see, I survived.” The scars all over his body were there to
prove that he had a hard time in that act of surviving.
“It took the G-Corporation ten years to resurrect my
remains...sometimes I wish they’d given up, like the many times they came close
to doing so. Oddly enough...every time they were about to abandon me, something
would turn up that would change their minds. Eventually it was a heartbeat, a
flicker of an eyelid...
“I was thirty-eight when they dragged me out of it...scarred,
disoriented...and a complete amnesiac. I remembered nothing of my past life –
your mother, the Zaibatsu, even my father. It took six years of harassing the
staff and forcing the old prick of a researcher who was responsible for me to
keep working before I finally began to regain my memory...when I did, I wished
I hadn’t.
“Of course, I was depressed for quite some time since everything
came flooding back at once. Eventually though, I got over it...when I
remembered your mother. I pushed everything else aside, and focussed on finding
her. I searched everything, everywhere...records, the
internet...I even resorted to hacking into the Mishima database from the
G-Corporation’s main computer.”
Jin snickered softly, despite the grimness of the tale. “I
remember that. Someone hacked into the place my first year here...it triggered
a security alert that caused a three-day power outage...”
Kazuya smirked a little...glad he could cause the old man some
pain. “Maybe I should have done it again before the damned Tekkenshu left to
raid the Corporation. Anyway. I finally found out from
someone I was working with at the time...about the Toshin incident.”
The word was enough to make the colour drain from Jin’s face...he
remembered that all too well. Toshin...the creature that came to be known as
Ogre...the one that killed his mother...he hated that beast. Without thinking,
he interrupted. “I...I was there. I was so stupid...I was so cocky...I didn’t
even think of protecting her...before I could even think, it knocked me
out...and took her.” His breath caught in his throat, and he fell silent – lest
the choked cry stuck there released itself.
As a tear fell down Jin’s cheek, Kazuya offered him the nearby box
of tissues, resisting the tears himself. “It couldn’t be helped...it’s not your
fault.”
He made no reply...he knew it was his fault though. If he hadn’t
have been so naïve and so stupid, Jun would still be here.
“It was a pity no one was intelligent enough to tell me of your
presence. I would have saved you a lot of pain...saved you from this wretched
place.”
Jin forced back his tears. “Then Heihachi would have known you
were alive. It’s probably best that things happened the way they did...”
“Bullshit. He could kill me a thousand times over...it would have
never stopped me from keeping you from him...”
The younger man sighed, curling up more on the couch. It was
almost pleasant to have someone finally stand up for him over all these years.
However, his stomach was determined to ruin the mood...it growled rudely,
interrupting what either man had to say next. He grinned bashfully, blushing,
and covered his midriff with his arms.
Perfectly happy with stopping the painful talk of the past, Kazuya
stood and grabbed the handles of Jin’s bag. “I’m sure you remember where the
kitchen is...go help yourself. I’ll get this upstairs
to your old room...”
Jin was happy to comply, and did so without a second order. As
Kazuya took the heavy bag upstairs – though, unlike Jin, who was naturally very
strong, he made it look effortless – he wandered into the kitchen to find food.
Everything was still in the same place in the massive mansion’s galley...though
the refrigerator was much emptier. Then again, there was only food for one,
right? At any rate, Jin found himself milk for coffee and butter from there,
bread and jam in the cupboard next to it, and decaf beside the electronic
kettle. As he let the water boil, he threw together several jam sandwiches on a
plate, and sat them down on the massive table in the next room. A moment later,
he sat down with his decaffeinated coffee, and enjoyed a much deserved light
snack.
Kazuya wandered downstairs a few minutes later, and passed by with
one eyebrow higher than the other. “I see Jun has introduced you to
sandwiches...”
Jin grinned through his mouthful, and nodded. His father sat down
opposite him and leaned his elbows on the table. “Funny...of all the things she
introduced me to over the year we were together...the only thing I had to offer
that she’d never had was typical western food...”
The younger of the two glanced down at the half-eaten white and
red thing in his hands. Kazuya chuckled softly. “Would you believe she’d only
had traditional Japanese food before she came to
Jin gulped. “She’d never heard of PB&J before you met her?!”
“Apparently she hadn’t.”
Jin rolled his eyes and smiled as he finished his supper. With the
last mouthful, he grinned cheekily at the man opposite him; “Oh Dad, by the
way...happy fiftieth!”
***
Back in his old room again; how delightful. Everything had been left in the
same place; even his pyjamas were strewn across the floor where he’d left them
the morning of the 3rd tournament’s final day. Of course, he’d never returned
to that place after that evening.
Now here he was; one in the morning, lying flat on his back in the
same bed he slept in as a late teenager. It brought back memories,
alright...none of which were particularly pleasant. He’d only given the old
room a quick tidy-up before ripping back the covers of the massive bed, ripping
off his clothes, and diving in. What a day it had been...hardly anything to eat
with his lack of funding, hardly any sleep the night before – what with the
haunting memories induced by sleeping in his childhood home for the previous
two days. And now finally, he was at a place he could call home.
He rolled over and hit the light switch, bringing darkness to the
overly ornamented room. He remembered Xiaoyu, who used to occupy the next
room...banging her fist on the wall right above his head, screaming goodnights
out at the top of her lungs. He remembered responding, most of the time, with a
muffled growl of discontent with the obnoxious noise. Ah, those were the days.
She was a cute kid, really...more of a little sister to him than anything. She
was four years younger than he, after all, and incredibly immature. She was
good company though, so he didn’t complain.
Smiling, he recalled the look on his father’s face fifteen minutes
ago when he’d revealed he remembered his birthday. The reaction was
priceless...a rather large, shy grin...and pinkened
cheeks. The older Mishima had then proceeded to run his hands through his raven
hair, smilingly muttering something about being old and senile already. After
that, he’d received the first hug ever from his only son, before being left,
stunned, as the young man raced upstairs to prepare for bed.
Hopefully, he thought, life will be kind now. Hell knows he’d
earned it by now...all the pain, torment, hard work...so far, all for nothing.
But now, he’d finally resolved matters with his one and only living relative.
His last thoughts before drifting off into a peaceful slumber were
devoted to that photo. He knew now why his mother loved him so much; he seemed
so gentle toward her in all of those photos...and he’d been gentle toward Jin
himself this evening. Hell knew that he was brutal in battle – relentless and
unforgiving as a true warrior should be toward an enemy – but he was so
different towards those who he gave a damn about. That,
and he was startlingly attractive as a young man. He’d been surprised when he
saw the pictures. He looked nothing like the Kazuya Mishima he’d gotten to know
nowadays. As his eyes drifted closed, he saw his parents in a gentle embrace, safe in each other’s arms...no one could keep them
apart – not then, not now, not ever.