Disclaimer: This was written long before Tekken 5 (circa 2001). The truth about Jinpachi had not been known then. Also, back then Jinrei Wang was Jinfrey Wang. And lastly, I know Lee is Chinese, but for storyline purposes, his nationality was changed to Korean. Please remember this is a creative piece not meant to rely solely on Namco...who owns all these lovely characters.
Insolent Youth * Silver Devil
Heihachi joined Kazuya at the breakfast table, much to the young Mishima’s surprise. Glancing up briefly from his delayed homework assignment, Kazuya feverishly scratched his pen to paper, barely pausing to drink his glass of juice.
Wordlessly, Heihachi took his seat at the head of the table, beckoning one of the servents for hot tea with only a come hither finger. Clearing his throat, Heihachi turned his cold glance to Kazuya. “Put your pen down a moment, boy. I need to speak with you.”
Kazuya felt instantly irritated by the sudden interruption. His training with his father had encompassed the majority of his weekend, leaving the exceptionally diligent student little time for his studies. Inhaling deeply, Kazuya set the pen down, lifting his glass of juice to his lips as his eyes turned coldly to his sire. Why was he not already at work?
Heihachi folded his hands before him. “Kazuya, I will be going away for several days on a business trip to Korea, a squalid little whole of a country located...”
“I am aware of Korea’s location as well as it’s economic depression, father.” Kazuya pursed his lips slightly, a little amazed at his sudden and tenacious answer.
Heihachi raised a brow, continuing as though he had not been interrupted. “I will be procuring contacts in the area. While I am gone, I want you to continue with your practice after school in the dojo. I have asked an old friend of the family, Jinfrey Wang to spar with you in my absence. Be sure to treat him with the utmost respect. I am sure I do not need to remind you of the repercussions for disobeying me.”
Kazuya let his hand trail to his slightly swollen cheek, a gift that remained from the weekend, curtsey of his fathers unloving hands.
“Yes Sir.” Kazuya nodded.
Heihachi crooked his arm up, leaning his chin against his knuckles. Was he merely imagining the sudden coldness rising from his sons’ eyes. It seemed to the older Mishima that after the rigorous hours of extensive training this weekend, something had snapped inside of Kazuya. There was only an icy glare lined with the subtle undercurrent of insolence and hatred issued from the childs’ eyes. The culmination of years of extensive planning was beginning to take light and yet somehow, Heihachi felt unnerved, almost wary of Kazuya’s gaze.
Kazuya finally turned his eyes from his father, drawing the pen up into his hands, continuing to write at a fevered pace. His father would be leaving him for several days. The idea itself brought a cool half smile to his lips as he completed his essay homework. For a few days, Kazuya would be given the chance to breath and heal, unhampered by the ever watchful eye and ready fist of his father.
The Chauffeur stood at attention, just inside the formal dining room. Finishing his tea, Heihachi rose walking toward his son. Placing a firm hand on the boys previously injured, sore right shoulder, Heihachi gnarled his grip, digging his fingertips into the tender appendage.
Kazuya looked up, drawing back a pained breath as Heihachi pressured his sore shoulder. The face of his father peered down at him like a malicious entity, seeming to almost enjoy the knowledge of the affliction his fingertips brought roaring to life. “The servants have the numbers where I can be found, Kazuya. I trust they will not need to call. Am I correct?”
Kazuya swallowed his rising hatred as Heihachi pressured his shoulder, forcing the young Mishima to drop the wounded appendage downward to release the newly inspired tension.
“Yes Sir.” Kazuya bit his lip, digging his nails deep into his upper thigh. The newly throbbing pain seemed to soften the intensity of Heihachi’s fingers.
“Good.” Heihachi released the grip, slapping Kazuya hard on the back. “Gather your things. I will drop you off at school before I head to the airport. The limo will be awaiting you at the end of the day.”
Kazuya gathered his books into the leather thong strap, slinging it over his good shoulder. His eyes traveled to the three small bloodstains peeking through the coarse plaid material of his school uniform pants. Kazuya was nearly drooling to see the torn skin beneath.
Blinking back the enrapturing thought, Kazuya followed Heihachi out to the awaiting limousine. The driver closed the door behind them.
After school, as promised, the sleek black limousine was parked awaiting Kazuya. Tossing his books into the backseat, Kazuya slid in, wordlessly accepting his fate. With the tips of his knuckles draped along the cold, tinted glass, Kazuya watched life whirling by him at a speed of 55 miles per hour.
Once home, Kazuya went upstairs to his bedroom on the east wing, shedding the confines of his private school uniform for the comfort of his white gi. Tying his red belt about his waist, Kazuya pondered if the color was an accurate reflection to his level of knowledge. Heihachi Mishima did not believe in awarding colored belts and gold stars for lessons learned in the art of their Ancestral Karate, though the tournament officials at the local competitions did not agree. In order for his son to compete in the level Heihachi desired, he was forced to render Kazuya to the red belt...the lowest accepted rank for that genre of exhibition.
Dressed and ready, Kazuya walked along the footpath to the dojo. For a moment he pondered, Why am I even bothering, it’s not like Father is going to catch me if I skip a day. But I am not doing this for him, I am doing it for me. If I want revenge someday I will have to be bigger and stronger then him. I will have to be better and that can only happen if I make myself work at it...hard as I can.
Kazuya stepped into the dojo, bowing as he entered.
“Good afternoon, Kazuya.” A voice softly echoed.
Jumping back with a startle, Kazuya looked along the dojo, catching a glint of movement from within the shadows. For a brief moment, Kazuya thought the Demon within was playing another trick on him, as it had done often times before.
“Why does everyone have to be so mysterious. Why doesn’t someone turn on a light once in awhile.” Kazuya sighed, unnerved as a man significantly older than his father stepped out into his range of sight.
“Forgive me, Kazuya. I simply took the advantage to study you a moment before I made myself known. You may not remember me, it has been many years since I have seen you...or been back to Tokyo for that matter. As a matter of fact you were still a babe in your mothers arms when last we met. I am Jinfrey Wang, a boyhood friend of your Grandfather. I have known your father since he was your age. Did he not tell you I would be here?”
“He did, I just forgot.” Kazuya shrugged his shoulders. He would have preferred to be left alone, much as he spent his lunch time break as school. And how was he supposed to spar with this older man without...hurting him? Was this one of his Fathers tests?
“Well then, now that we are no longer strangers, let us do a little chatting while we are warming up.” Wang bowed to Kazuya before stretching his legs. “So, you are almost 10, next week, yes?”
“I do not like to talk, Wang-san. Let’s just warm up.” Kazuya turned his back to the older man, stretching his arms over his head.
“Well, I like to talk so why don’t you just listen...” Wang smiled as Kazuya regarded him over his shoulder. Shrugging with a sigh, Kazuya winced in pain as his right shoulder protested the warm up, responding with a sudden stiffness.
Jinfrey noticed the change in the young Mishima’s face, quirking an ancient brow as he rose from his stretch to inspect the boys’ shoulder, placing a hand gently on the appendage. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine...” Kazuya barked, yanking his shoulder away from Wangs’ touch, narrowing his eyes untrustingly. A stupid and painful move to jerk an already tender appendage so suddenly.
“How did you hurt it?” Wang asked, tilting his head to study the young Mishima.
“I fell.” Kazuya turned, looking to the punching bag in the corner of the dojo. “I think I will warm up for a bit on the bag....”
Wang placed a soft hand under Kazuya’s chin, turning the boys face to met his eyes. “And I suppose you hit your cheek when you fell? An odd way to swell the side of your face and yet leave no bruises from the impact.”
Kazuya tried to step back though Wang held him in place, softly. The older man knew the mark of anger on the boys cheek. Though it was possible he hurt his shoulder while playing, knowing Heihachi as well as he did, Wang sincerely doubted it.
“You have a good deal of anger in those eyes, Kazuya. Some philosophers have said that the eyes are the gateway to the soul.”
Kazuya shrugged slightly, now knowing what to say.
Wang smiled, releasing the boys face from his hand. “Why don’t I show you a special form of meditation, something to ease your anger and give you peace of mind. It’s another martial art, very different from Mishima Karate. It is called Tai’Chi.”
Kazuya pursed his lips slightly. “I know what Tai’Chi is. I see the old people doing it in the park every morning on my way to school.”
Wang shook his head good naturedly. “Will you humor this old person and try it with me, just once?”
Kazuya sighed softly. “Fine.”
“Excellent, you are so kind. Now follow me through the steps. Be sure to exhale on each motion and inhale as you draw up to the next stance. Clear your mind and let the movement come naturally.”
Kazuya rolled his eyes slightly though his hungry mind was intrigued. Wang began the graceful beauty of the Tai’Chi to which Kazuya followed his every move. The artful meditation was fluid, like water, easily washing over him and calming his soul.
Wang drew his arms in, exhaling to signify the end of the meditation. The world seemed altered yet somehow the same as the raging anger in the young Mishima’s heart seemed temporarily dissuaded. Kazuya had not even realized he had broken a slight sweat as his muscles sang through his skin, burning with new found life and oxygen.
Wang stood observing the young man before him. The rage that rode the current beneath his skin was sated, subdued for now. What could bring such cruelty from Heihachi to strike this bright, resilient child? Wang knew the force of the Elder Mishimas’ viciousness was strong. He recalled the cruel way in which the young Heihachi callously refused the dying request of his own father to make peace before he departed this world. Jinpachi had died only a short time later with his wife and his old friend, Jinfrey, there to comfort him.
Breaking from his reverie, Jinfrey tugged softly on the snow white whiskers of his beard. “I think we have done enough for one day. I know this place just outside of the downtown Tokyo business district that makes a delightful sundae. Should we spoil the body now that we have replenished the mind and soul?”
Kazuya felt his eyes widen with delight, despite himself. “Can we?” “If you can keep a secret, so can I.” Jinfrey laughed, mussing the boys sweat dampened hair. What a difference kindness and attention made to this introverted, solemn child. The velvet glove was often as effective as the Iron Fist.
“Go get dressed and I will find the driver. Perhaps if we bribe him with his fill of ice cream, he too will find it easier to keep a secret.”
Kazuya ran from the dojo toward the Compound as Jinfrey extinguished the torches. A shame he did not have a grandson to spoil. A boy like Kazuya who was fiery and yet full of inquisition...a child with spirit. What wonderful wisdom Jinfrey could impart to such a soul.
Looking for the driver, Kazuya was already dressed and anxious to leave. With a booming, soft souled laugh, Jinfrey led him out to the awaiting car, hungry for a chocolate drizzled sundae.
Heihachi Mishima walked along the desolate, squalid alley ways of the inner Korean downtown streets. Gazing through these dingy homes and foul smelling by- ways, the Older Mishima understood the importance of the Zaibatsu bringing a satellite corporation to these economically depressed slums. His tour of the seamy side of Korean life also gave him a tremendous appreciation for his wealth, both financially as well as ethnocentrically...being high born, Japanese.
His head swimming with the strength of spirits he had imbibed at a seedy little bar on the outskirts of downtown, Heihachi walked among the masses, his hands pressed unassumingly into his pockets. The aire about him almost dared a would be pick pocket or cut throat to attempt to corner him with some watered down version of Tae Kwon Do. Heihachi Mishima was looking to get involved in a fight, instead, the CEO of the Mishima Financial Empire found himself as an onlooker to one.
A young silver haired boy was standing off against a group of young men, each twice his girth and perhaps nearly 5 years his senior. The child paced back and forth issuing perfectly timed blows in conjunction with kicking combinations that were of a different art than Tae Kwon Do. Ninjitsu. Heihachi knew the basic motions of the lethal art, though he had no desire to replicate them. What he found most interesting was the skill this child seemed to hold against a group of attackers who should have clearly held the advantage.
Crossing his arms before his chest, Heihachi listened to the executed spirit shouts, much more shrill than those he had been teaching to his own son. Each exhalation seemed to fuel the young boy more feverishly than the last, till none of his opponents were left standing.
Once the fight was completed, the dark eyes of the silver haired child gazed through the crowd for any other challengers. Seeing no takers, the boy began to back away, drawing his forearm up to wipe his brow, licking back the blood that trickled from his lips.
Paying no mind to the strong silent figure just behind, the boy backed straight into the form of Heihachi Mishima, whirling around with an astonished gaze to find him standing there. Looking down, Heihachi could more clearly see the silver haired child who fought with the soul of a warrior. A pale soft face was smudged with dirt and filth, dried blood marred along his angular cheeks.
“Impressive victory, little man. What is your name?” The boy held Heihachi’s gaze with a brazen aura the older man rather liked. This child had...spunk. “Lee Chaolan” The boy answered.
“Why were you fighting these boys, Lee Chaolan?” Heihachi raised a high arched brow.
“I don’t know, they insulted me, I guess.” the young Korean boy wiped the blood away from his lip once more.
“How did you learn Ninjitsu, boy?”
Lee arched his own brow. Heihachi realized the boy was slightly feminine in his youthful appearance, yet there was a strength of character instantly visible in the arrogance of his eyes. “This old man, he teaches me....What are you a cop or something?”
Heihachi laughed, causing the boy to jump back a bit, unexpectedly. “Hardly, little Chaolan. And I trust this generous benefactor provides you with training and care for a price. Hmm judging by your size and skill I would say he has you pick pockets, maybe even a little petty thievery...”
Lee backed away slowly but Heihachi easily closed in on the distance. “You are wondering how I know this, boy. I am a man who has traveled the world, I have seen these types of things before. You have a natural skill, but no one gives something...for nothing.” Heihachi smiled, self satisfied.
“What do you want, old man?” Lee narrowed his eyes like the arrogant, and indignant child he no doubt was.
“I am going to make you an offer, my dear boy. You see, I am impressed with your talent and savvy and it so happens I have a son at home, perhaps a year or so older than yourself. He is alone quite often and perhaps the thought of bringing home a brother for him will lighten his heavy heart. I am a very rich man who could provide for you quite nicely, should you accept my offer.” Heihachi smiled, offering the Korean youth a sense of warmth. The moment the older man saw this child, he knew this would be the most perfectly designed test for his son Kazuya. Another child in the home would make him focus the power of his Ki into perfectly channeled hatred toward his father and the youth, intensifying his anger to the point that this Lee Chaolan may not survive more than a few months at the Mishima Mansion. Having a “younger brother” might just bring out the qualities in Kazuya that Heihachi had been trying to retrieve through years of cruel and incessant training.
“Well, Lee Chaolan, I do not have all day. I am a very busy man. My plane for Tokyo leaves in 3 hours. The choice is simple, live hand to mouth on the streets like an orphan, beggar and petty thief...or return to Japan with me where you will be enrolled in the finest schools, pursue your training and be given the life of a prince alongside my son Kazuya.”
Lee bit his lip softly, letting his tongue taste the blood welling up at the inflicted wound beneath his teeth. “How do I know you are not going to make me do the things I do here, if I go with you?”
“Well my boy, truth be told, you don’t know. I am a man of honor and little patience. And I am sorry to say your indecisiveness shows me only that this conversation is now over...” Heihachi turned with a smirk on his face, walking away from the street rat with a rueful smile.
Lee called out to him, rushing to catch up to him. “Wait, wait. I don’t even know your name or anything...”
Heihachi stopped, looking down at the boy, now at his side. “I am Heihachi Mishima. You may call me...Father.” Heihachi mussed the boys silver hair, walking with him from the back streets with a dark, nearly glowing smile on his tired face.
Some fathers bring home trinkets from foreign lands for their children when they travel abroad. Heihachi, on the other hand, was bringing home a much bigger surprise...a brother for his blood son. The possibilities were nearly infinite.
Heihachi brought the silver haired Lee Chaolan to his hotel room, packing his things for the plane back to Tokyo. The boy seemed quite nervous, anxiously ringing his hands together, afraid to step any further into one of the most lavish suites in the singularly most expensive hotel in all of Uptown Korea. “Do not be afraid boy, I won’t bite you.” Heihachi turned, zipping his suitcases, feigning a smile. For a moment he wondered what other price his caregivers had extracted in exchange for room, board and training. Was picking pockets and petty thievery the extent of his retributions? The show of anxiousness could be due to the fact the price of this room was more money than the young Chaolan had ever seen. Or perhaps the opulence of the suite was over bearing...but maybe, something more drastic had happened at the hands of an adult to this young boy.
Glancing to his watch, Heihachi took a seat on the bed. “We have just over 2 hours, would you like me to order you up some room service, something to tide you over till we reach the airport?”
Lee nodded an emphatic “yes”, biting the edge of his lip much as Kazuya was often prone to doing. “I will order you some dinner and while they are preparing it you might wish to take a shower or at least wash your face.”
The young silver haired child looked exceptionally apprehensive at the idea. “No thank you Sir....”. Though the boy was uncomfortable, he never withdrew his eyes from Heihachi. Strong Character. Perhaps this idea was even better than he could have expected.
Heihachi exhaled sharply, looking to the dirty boy. “All I ask is for you to go and wash your face in the bathroom. You may lock the door if you feel nervous, though I assure you, little Chaolan, no harm will come to you in my care. Now go on.” Heihachi lifted the phone, averting his direct gaze to watch Chaolan from the corner of his eye. The boy stood in a moment of trepidation before finally going to the bathroom to do as his new father requested. Heihachi heard the soft click of the door to the bathroom locking as Lee Chaolan entered. Had that single act confirmed his suspicions?
Lee Chaolan closed the door, his shaking fingers turning the lock behind him. What was he doing, going off with some strange man to become his “son”...in a completely different country? Though Lee was fluent in both Korean and English, he spoke only choice words in Japanese, the kind that could not be repeated in most company. His entire life was here, lived in the back alleys of Korea...his homeland.
Chaolan did not know his mother and father, he thought as he ran the hot water from the marble sink, letting his fingers dip into the streaming liquid. For a moment he wondered if a rich persons water would get him cleaner than the rusty old pipes of his home?
His mother and father had abandoned him, or so the older man he had lived the entirety of his life with had told him. Han came to care for him when he was just old enough to walk and provided what meager home and schooling he could give, including the knowledge of his former glory in the art of Ninjitsu. In return for his care, Lee Chaolan was asked to perform various endeavors including thievery. How could he refuse the only person who had ever taken care of him?
Lee scrubbed his face clean, the edges of his molten silver hair dampening to rest, scattered along his cheeks. Clearing his throat softly, the young Korean walked out of the bathroom just as Heihachi stood by the door, accepting the delivery from the Hotel kitchen.
Closing the door, Heihachi offered the boy a sandwich, looking him over almost appraisingly. Once cleaned up, the child looked quite impressive. He was a “pretty” young boy, unlike the rugged features of his soon to be brother, Kazuya. They were to be as night and day, Heihachi realized and secretly smiled at the possibilities such differences could ensue. “I ordered you a sandwich since anything else on the menu would have taken too much time to prepare. You can eat it on the way, our Limo is waiting for us.”
“Wow..a limousine. I’ve never ridden in one of those before.” The young Chaolan glanced up with wide eyes, accepting the sandwich from Heihachi.
Slapping a hand down on the childs shoulder, the Older Mishima smiled. “Well, my dear boy, you will soon get used to such luxury until the point it becomes commonplace. Once we get you settled in the Compound, my home, we will get you enrolled in school and take you for more suitable clothing. Wherever you go you will be a representative of the Mishima Household and must look accordingly. Shall we?”
Heihachi looked to the child, nodding softly as Chaolan opened the door.
“Can we stop on the way to say goodbye to Han...I would not want him to worry about me...”
Heihachi looked slightly annoyed at the request but the feeling faded as the large dark eyes of the silver haired boy looked up into his. “We have not much time to spare, but I will allow you a few moments to spend with this Han fellow. Instruct the driver of the location.”
Heihachi walked to the elevator, the bellhop retrieved his luggage using the service lift to load the baggage into the car. Settling his bill, the CEO slid into the limousine and together with Lee Chaolan, the car sped off down the dingy streets of downtown Korea.
In the midst of the squalor of small gatherings of run down homes, the black limo came to a stop. Lee rushed out of the car, not waiting for the driver to open the door. Heihachi was given to a bit more discretion.
The older Mishima knocked on the door, hearing the creak as it gave way beneath his touch, revealing the silver haired Lee Chaolan speaking to a middle aged gentleman as he sat on a filthy stained mattress.
So, this must be Han, Heihachi thought as he stepped in, nodding to the man on the mattress. Han arose, putting his hand on Chaolans shoulder as he looked over the obviously wealthy gentleman.
“Lee tells me you would like him to go with you...” Han cleared his throat, resting a filthy hand along the tattered remains of a denim pocket. “What you intend to do with him is no business of mine, but his price is hefty. Though by the looks of you I doubt you will have a difficult time affording it.”
Heihachi quirked a brow slightly at Hans innuendo. “Pardon me?”
Han gave the CEO a rather annoyed glance. “Look, we don’t have to play games, I know why you want him and his time costs. Is there a problem? Did you think he would come for free? The anomaly of his looks alone garners a hefty price so lets not debate this.”
Heihachi looked to Lee, standing some distance behind Han. The child looked so hopeful and yet was there a sense of sadness for leaving the services of this seemly fellow? Perhaps this was the only parental figure Lee Chaolan had ever known....
“You mistake my intentions, Sir. I have no designs on taking this boy for any degrading purpose. I have instead offered the young man a chance to leave Korea for Tokyo, for a life of opulence that I can afford him. Surely you would not wish to see him miss out on such opportunities.”
Han turned instantly, looking to the boy. “This is no business transaction, Lee? You are letting this man take you away from me...from Korea?”
Lee backed up slowly unsure of what the anger would bring as a repercussion at the hands of Han. Lee had never seen the middle aged man angry before. “I..I would like to go with him...”
Han did not make a move to approach though he did raise his voice. Heihachi looked on with a sense of growing anger. “You would just up and leave me, deprived of your services and your company? I am the only father you have ever known and now you are going to abandon me for someone you don’t even know. After all I have done for you, Lee, how could you leave me?”
Lee stammered slightly though he did not withdraw his eyes from the man before him. “I..I don’t want to steal anymore. I don’t like taking things from people to give to you, even though I know its how we survive. I...don’t want to do the other things anymore...either...”
Han replied, his tone growing stronger. “After all I have done for you, you little brat...”
Only when the tone became too gruff did Heihachi step into the conflict. “Lee, I want you to go wait in the car. Do not bother gathering any of your things, nothing here belongs to you anymore. I will buy you everything you are forced to leave, over again. Now, go wait for me in the car.”
Lee looked up with a glassy expression of tears in his eyes. “Goodbye Han...” He sniffled as he walked outside of the only home he had ever known...for all his life.
Han turned to meet the gaze of the CEO. “You can’t just take him away from me, he is my livelihood...I have raised him from the time he first learned to crawl...”
“And you have put him on the streets to steal, fight and work the corner for some twisted Korean businessmen looking for a few good kicks. The child is no more than 9 years old for the love of god. What kind of monster are you?”
Although to an outsiders point of view the methods Heihachi employed on his own son might appear unscrupulous, clearly Kazuya was not in a situation to which he was being..exploited. Kazuya lived beneath the tremendous weight of his Fathers aspirations, cruel though they might have been. The life of his son did not resemble, in anyway...the meager, dishonorable existence Lee Chaolan was forced to live.
Han growled. “How dare you come into my home and make judgements at me. Lee and I do what we have to in order to survive.”
“No, you live off the sweat and tender psyche of a scared little boy. You disgust me.” Heihachi turned to walk away when he felt the filthy hands of the middle aged man grasp hold of his arm.
With instant reaction, Heihachi turned around, scooping his arms around the Korean man upward into a Jumping Power bomb. The floor boards cracked under the heft of his Ki, sparkling in streaks of gold lightning as it wound around the Mishima’s body. Han was on the floor, grasping his back as he cried out in pain.
Heihachi reached a hand into his jacket pocket, withdrawing his leather wallet, scattering a hand full of bills onto the floor at his feet. “That should cover the lost wages of your beloved child. Though no price can be put on his life. Good evening, sir.”
Heihachi stormed out of the shack, slamming the creaking door behind him as he walked up. The limo driver opened the gateway to the car as Heihachi slid in, watching Chaolan cry with his little face in his hands.
Comfortingly, Heihachi pressed his hand on the boys shoulder. Saying nothing, he tapped the glass separating the back of the limousine from the driver, giving the Chauffeur the signal to continue to the airport.
Kazuya worked through the fluid motions of Tai’Chi. With his eyes closed he found the calm epicenter of his soul, letting the meditation wash over him. His senses heightened to the point he could hear the flicker of torch flame licking at the walls in the dojo, Kazuya found the meaning of the Zen as a key to the mastery of his soul.
Heihachi Mishima stood just inside the doorway, his arms folded against his chest with a look of intense anger and disgust. When he had asked the old family friend, Jinfrey Wang to look in on Kazuya and spar with him, he had no idea this would be the result. Kazuya was deeply engaged in the meditative Tai’Chi, a different form of martial art from a Chinese origin. It was a blow to his ancestral pride to watch an alien form of art being enjoyed by his son in the Japanese dojo. It angered him further to see Kazuya had found a sense of peace, calming the blood thirsty desire from his closed eyes.
“Are you finished, boy.” Heihachi sneered as his voice barked, stopping the fluidity of the meditative motions mid stream.
Kazuya opened his eyes, remaining in his newly learned stance. “Welcome home, father.” The younger Mishima smiled darkly.
“Indeed boy, I am sure you are pleased with my unexpected return. I took a more direct flight on the way home, which reminds me, I have a gift for you.”
“For me?” Kazuya fell out of stance, grasping his towel to wipe along his sweating brow.
“Yes, Kazuya. When you have toweled off, join me in the main fore. I trust you will be pleased with your surprise.” Heihachi turned, smiling secretly as he walked back toward the compound.
Eager to see what lay awaiting him, Kazuya toweled himself off, bracing the sweat dampened terry cloth around his neck as he walked along the footpath to the Mishima Compound.
Stepping into the main fore, Kazuya glanced around the expansive room for any hint to his gift. Heihachi stood before him, removing his thick fur collar jacket and leaving it to hang upon the coat rack.
“Chaolan, come and meet Kazuya.”
Kazuya raised a brow as a silver haired boy, perhaps only slightly younger than himself came to join Heihachi, taking his hand softly as Father reassured the child. “Kazuya I would like you to meet your adopted brother, Lee Chaolan.I urge you to speak English or what Korean you know in front of your new brother, he is not fluent in Japanese.”
“Now, Lee Chaolan, this is Kazuya Mishima.” Heihachi’s hand pushed the silver haired child along the back, sending Chaolan forward to meet his new sibling.
Lee offered his pale, delicate hand to his new brother. Kazuya folded his arms before his chest, refusing to accept the grip. As if for the sake of defiance, Kazuya switched from the English they had been speaking...to Japanese. “What kind of joke is this, Father? You can not bring a boy home from Korea and expect to make him my brother...”
Heihachi smiled as the jealousy and hurt arose in his sons eyes, choosing to answer him in English. “On the contrary, Kazuya, I can do just that. The papers were waiting for me as soon as I returned to Tokyo. I made the necessary arrangements from the plane. Now, are you not pleased with your...surprise.”
“Send him back, I am not interested in having a brother.” Kazuya hissed, narrowing his eyes to the intruder.
“Interested or not, Chaolan is here to join our family and you WILL welcome him with open arms. Embrace your brother, Kazuya.” Heihachi growled, drawing up behind Lee, protectively.
“No.” Kazuya barked, glaring now to his father.
Heihachi tapped Lee on the shoulder without breaking his glance from the defiant child born of his own flesh and blood. “Why don’t you go and ask the Baiko, the gentleman I just introduced you to for a drink and then return to us. I need a moment alone with my son.” The older Mishima seemed to spit his words.
Lee looked up and then back to Kazuya, feeling the aire change into something almost...deadly. Taking a deep breath, Chaolan walked into the formal dining room, toward the kitchen to find Baiko.
The moment the silver haired boy left, Kazuya felt the force of his fathers anger. “What have I told you about defying me, boy?” Heihachi growled, grasping Kazuya by the throat and lifting him off the ground as the younger Mishima’s hand wrapped around his fathers wrist, trying to pry them off of his tender neck.
Kazuya gasped, kicking in the air as Heihachi dropped him hard onto the floor of the main fore. Leaning in with the force of his hip propelling the motion, Heihachi punched Kazuya square in the jaw, sending a ribbon of blood spattering from his mouth.
Lee returned too quickly, forcing Heihachi to draw back, crossing his arms before his chest once more. “I couldn’t find Baiko, Father.”
The words stung Kazuya harder than a grazing fist to his temple. Drawing himself to a stand, Kazuya wiped his bleeding mouth along the back of his hand, his eyes burning intently into Chaolan as the boy came up before him, offering his new brother a hand to help him rise.
“I don’t need your help.” Kazuya smacked Lee’s hand away with a growl. Looking up into his fathers hateful eyes, Kazuya hissed his greeting in native Japanese. “Welcome to our family, you little Korean bastard.”
Heihachi growled, interrupted with the shock of Lee Chaolans next words. In perfect Japanese, the child apparently understood the context of Kazuya’s words and answered with his own...slang. “Fuck you.”
The response caused a low chuckle from Heihachi as Kazuya seemed to blanche at Chaolans use of Japanese. “I thought you said he doesn’t speak the language, father.” Kazuya smirked.
Heihachi was...smiling. “Apparently those words are just a few of the choice slang you do know, eh, my boy?” He braced a hand on Chaolans shoulder. The kid was a spitfire. The older Mishima suddenly had a sense he was going to enjoy this pairing.
“Well then, I will leave you boys to get acquainted. Lee, Kazuya will show you around and then to your room. I would like you to get cleaned up and then I will take you shopping for the necessities.”
Kazuya narrowed his eyes to the silver haired boy once again, spitting on him once Heihachi was a safe distance away. Lee responded with a Shaolin kick to Kazuya’s shoulder, as a warning.
“I am not less than you are, so don’t spit on me again.” Lee said as he turned.
“Yes you are, your Korean.” He hissed as he turned to wordlessly walk along the steps of the east wing to which Lee Chaolan followed. Kazuya found himself...caught off guard by the precision timed kick. Apparently the boy knew some style of Martial art to which Kazuya had never seen before, even in competition. He would have to feel Chaolan out to be sure the next time the boy was caught under HIS advantage.
“This is the east wing, over there is the entrance to the west wing. MY Father stays in there and he does not permit anyone into those double doors.” Kazuya held his head up, arrogantly as Lee followed behind him, peering through the corridors with a sense of wonder.
This was the most beautiful home in the world, Lee thought as he silently glanced around...And probably the richest.
“This is the bathroom....” Kazuya stopped, glaring as Lee took a look in. The shower had four jets, two mounted to each side of the wall and a bathtub with all these jet wholes that probably could have fit a horse. It was done all in marble. Lee had seen a room of marble once before. It belonged to a rich businessman....
“And what about that room?” Lee pointed to the next room down the hall from the bathroom. Kazuya walked toward it and shut the door, crossing his arms before his chest. “This is my room and you had better stay out if you know what is good for you.”
Lee shrugged, looking to the room just across the large corridor from Kazuya’s. “And this one?”
“That will be your room, I guess. This is where the guests used to sleep.” Kazuya opened the door as Lee stepped in.
With wide eyes, Lee felt his jaw fall agape. “This room is bigger than the whole house I used to live in, with Han in Korea. Wow....” The room itself was simple with light gray walls and a beautiful border that told a very old story in Kanji lettering, to which Lee could not read. The bed was huge black lacquer with a shiny black comforter and more pillows than Lee could have counted in the sweeping glance he took. The dresser was the same black lacquer with a huge vanity mirror that nearly encompassed the entire wall.
“This...this is mine...” Lee stammered, his sentence suddenly cut clean by the sweeping motion of Kazuya’s legs taking his own out from under him. Kazuya instantly mounted his chest, pinning the smaller boys arms to the carpet as he hissed atop him. “I have a good memory Lee Chaolan. I want you to remember that for the next time you decide to kick me. Think better about it because I can make your life here living hell, every day and every night.”
Lee struggled beneath Kazuya’s weight and strength advantage. “Get off of me!”
Kazuya withdrew, looking down at Lee as the silver haired boy slowly brought himself to his feet. For a moment they glared, eye to eye. In a smooth dialect of Japanese, Kazuya grimaced. “I don’t like you and I am never going to like you. I am an only child and that his how it is going to stay.”
Lee was not sure what Kazuya had said in the language he barely knew, mocking a half smile, Chaolan replied to whatever nasty thing the young Mishima was saying, in Korean. “I don’t know what your problem is, but you are my brother now...and I will honor that.”
Kazuya listened to the Korean words flow from Lee Chaolan, finding himself at a stand off. Neither could really understand what the other was saying, when they chose to use their native languages, and it seemed neither one was at the advantage. “Just remember what I said to you Lee”. Kazuya switched back to fluent English as he turned, walking across the corridor to his room and emphatically slamming his door behind him.
Lee shook his head slightly. He did not think the first meeting with his new found brother would turn out like this. The young Kazuya was jealous of his presence, regardless of the aire of anger that seemed to pass between he and his father. Perhaps in time, Chaolan could unite the rift between them and befriend his new kin.
Lee stepped into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. With a bit of trepidation, he stripped off his clothing . Turning with a gasp of breath, he heard a knock at the door. “Who is it?” He asked, grasping a towel to drape around his slight body.
“I said, who is it?” There was no answer. Leaning his ear against the door, Lee could hear no sounds of someone outside. Nipping on his lips slightly, Lee opened the door to find no one was there...but a pair of neatly folded clothing was resting just outside the entrance to the bathroom. Scooping them up into his arms, Lee stepped backwards and locked the door behind him.
With a slight smile, Lee dropped the towel and turned the jets of the shower on. Stepping between them, the pressure of the water tingled all over his body, rinsing the acrid dirt to leave his flesh pink.
Toweling off his hair as he stepped out of the lavish, refreshing shower, Lee slid on the clothing that was left for him. A pair of jeans and a short sleeve polo style shirt. The clothes obviously belonged to Kazuya and were too big for him. Cuffing up the hem of the jeans, Lee tucked in the dark green heavy cotton polo shirt.
Heihachi was awaiting Chaolan in the main fore. “I see my son lent you something more appropriate to wear uptown. How kind of him.” The older Mishima almost seemed..snide.
Placing a hand on Chaolans’ shoulder, Heihachi led him out the door toward the awaiting limousine. As Lee slid in, he turned to look up...seeing a face glancing down at him from the second floor of the east wing. There was something sad but proud about Kazuya, as he looked down from the window of his bedroom. Lee slicked his damp silver hair back with his fingers, moving over to allow Heihachi to enter and sit beside him.
I can learn to live like this. Lee smiled to himself. He was looking forward to being spoiled for the first time in his life.
Kazuya looked down from his bedroom window as Lee and Heihachi sped off in the limousine without him. He was not quite sure what had propelled him to leave an old set of clothing by the bathroom for Lee, especially since he did not like the intruder. Not at all.
Kazuya rested his hand on his notebook. His teacher had assigned the class to write poetry...something to which the young Mishima enjoyed and excelled at. But not today. His mood shifted too drastically to set his feelings down on paper.
Tossing the notebook from his grip, the air about Kazuya sizzled with slices of lightning spiraling from his fingers.
“God Damn it.” He cursed, raising from his window seat and pacing like a caged beast in the confines of his room.
The pangs of jealousy inspire deadly force in any living being, Kazuya. You let it consume you so. How long do you think it will take before Chaolans welcome wears thin. He is a novelty for now, but the cruel hand of your father will show itself in time.
“It’s not that...” Kazuya argued with the demon, rushing his fingers through his silky black hair, tugging on the tendrils maliciously.
Then what is it, exactly.... The Demon cooed.
“I don’t want to talk about it. Just leave me alone...” Kazuya exhaled sharply, grasping a pair of scissors from atop his desk. Pressing the sharp arms into his flesh, the young Mishima dragged the edge across his forearm, wincing as the wound cried droplets of blood. The warm crimson tears dripped down to balance on the edge of his fingertip before releasing its’ hold for the cold comfort of the floor. Kazuya’s mind grew exceptionally clear, all of a sudden. The rush of the act of cutting was almost...spiritual.
As you wish. The Devil laughed, receding into Kazuya’s mind once more.
The young Mishima stood, frozen in the ecstasy of his first cutting. Each tear of blood that shattered onto the floor was a prayer to long dead gods, demanding sacrifice with vengeful eyes. Swooning from the overpowering sensation, Kazuya stumbled back, falling to a seat on the edge of his bed. Lifting the scissors up to his inspecting eyes, the young Mishima smiled as he regarded his blood, gathered in the grooves of the sharp implement.
Suddenly, nothing mattered. Nothing but the release of metal...skin...and blood.
Kazuya watched from his bedroom window as the seemingly never-ending bags and boxes of clothes were removed from the overfilled limousine trunk. Heihachi braced his arm around Lee Chaolan as they entered the compound. The taste of bile rose in the back of the young Mishima throat as he watched the seemingly gentle interactions between Father and newly adopted son.
The rustling of the various bags rose up along the stairwell as the servents placed Lee’s garments in his room. Unexpectedly, the silver haired Chaolan peeked his head into his new brothers room with a smile. “Want to come see what I got, we shopped for hours!” Lee beamed as Kazuya rolled the sleeve of his shirt down to cover his newly inflicted wound.
Rising from the bed, the young Mishima walked toward the door, saying nothing. With a sudden motion, Kazuya reached out to push Chaolan by the face; sending him back with a burst of force before resoundingly slamming his bedroom door...with a growl.
Heihachi Mishima paced along the gardens, awaiting the arrival of the old friend of the family, Jinfrey Wang. He had called from the car, requesting a meeting with the elder gentleman to discuss the well being and training of his sons. Heihachi felt the dark tendrils of anger rise like smoke over a flame to think Kazuya had been practicing a Chinese art of meditation in his dojo. The urge to beat the boy into a blood strewn mess was forced to be thwarted until they could be alone, without the newly acquired silver haired youth present to bare witness.
Lee Chaolan had enjoyed his shopping spree. Heihachi provided him the finances for nearly everything he could have desired, from clothing to games and decoration for his bedroom..Lee suddenly discovered the joy of having it all. Of course, at first, Heihachi nearly had to force the child to accept the fact he could buy more than a handful of things. But eventually, Chaolan let his mind wander and the wallet spend as only a childs’ freedom permits. All that remained would be enrolling him in Kazuya’s private school and setting up the instructor to continue his training in the art of Ninjitsu...something Heihachi knew very little about. Though, perhaps in time the elder Mishima would be able to have the two boys spar in the dojo, imparting a small bit of the most basic kicks and punches from Mishima Style Karate to his newly adopted son. Lee was not of his blood and therefore not granted the privilege to learn the full force of Heihachi’s ancestral art.
Heihachi turned suddenly, feeling a hand gently resting on his shoulder. With a faded smile, dripping only in the pleasantry he was forced to exude...the elder Mishima greeted Jinfrey Wang. “Good day, old friend.”
“And to you, Mishima-sama. To what do I owe this impromptu meeting?” Wang trailed his voice, walking along beside Heihachi.
“I have two important matters to discuss with you. When we are finished, old friend, I would like you to join us for dinner.” The elder Mishima smiled with a glint of darkness surrounding his eyes. Wang felt himself swallow harder beneath Heihachi’s gaze...unsure of what would bring this sudden sense of attention. The lingering image of Kazuya’s slightly swollen cheek..still haunting him.
“Come, let us continue to walk, Jinfrey...” Heihachi held his arm out, showing Wang the way in an almost congenial manner.
“Of course...” Jinfrey nodded, regaining his pace, his hands crossed at the wrist, braced to the small of his back.
Kazuya drew down the steps of the east wing at the behest of the servents, announcing dinner. The silver haired Lee was already seated, to the right of Heihachi. The young Mishima’s face grew into an unguarded smile as he noticed Wang...
“Good evening, Wang-san!” Kazuya smiled, drawing himself to sit beside him.
“Good evening, dear boy...” Wang drew a false smile to his lips, attempting to mask the sudden swelling in his jaw. The elder man had made the mistake of advocating for the young Kazuya...bringing to light the abuses he believed Heihachi had leveled. Thus accusing, the Older Mishima and suffering only a slight repercussion.
There was no hiding the mark of Fathers cruelty from Kazuya’s eyes. His lips parted slightly as he looked deeply into Wangs eyes. “What happened to your mouth, Master Wang?” Kazuya whispered, only to be interrupted by Heihachi as he called both of the boys attention to him.
“I would like to start by welcoming Lee Chaolan into our family. May you first night be pleasant in your new home. Secondly, I wanted to thank Jinfrey Wang for coming to keep an eye on Kazuya. Wang has asked me for the privilege to train you, my young cub....”
Kazuya’s eyes grew with a soft light, excited at the thought....
“..but I have of course refused him. Your only training is to be in the ancestral arts to which you have already begun.” Heihachi cleared his throat with a smile, watching Kazuya’s eyes break in time with his hopeful heart. “I have, however, given over your training ,Lee, to Jinfrey for the time being. Once you have covered a good deal of ground with him, I will be sure to find the best instructor in the art of Ninjitsu for you to work alongside.”
Kazuya was crestfallen. Looking up through errant tendrils of obsidian hair, the young Mishima narrowed his eyes to the angelic face of his silver haired brother. The annoyance he felt at the boys presence now escalated into something darker... In one night, Lee had ruined the only act of enjoyment Kazuya had. Training with Wang and discovering the inner workings of the Tai Chi meditation.
“Thank you, Master Wang!” Lee flashed a dazzling, almost feminine smile that seemed to melt the ice from the heavy heart of Jinfrey Wang.
“Of course my dear boy, it will be a pleasure to work with you and learn from you.” Wang smiled, hopefully.
My Dear Boy, so now Lee has taken away even the term of reference to which I am known by Wang. Kazuya grit his teeth as Wang spoke, digging his fork into the plate before him. He didn’t need any kind words from anyone....He didn’t need the peaceful workings of the Tai’Chi. All Kazuya needed was the force of his Tekken, the power of his Ki and the knowledge of his ancestral art. And Devil. As the demon had said, it’s voice would be his only friend. So the Devil was right, it seemed.
Heihachi continued speaking before finally raising up is fork. “And Lee, the day after tomorrow you will be joining Kazuya in school. We will enroll you in the morning and then you will accompany me to the Zaibatsu.”
Lee nodded softly, drawing quiet as he ate, much as he would learn to be the tradition in the Mishima household. Dinner time was one of silence. A family that does not speak...does not fight.
Kazuya smiled to himself secretly...almost sinisterly as the world opened itself before Lee Chaolan and yet slammed the doors and windows behind himself. He would get even with them all. He had time...a world of time ahead of him.
The young Mishima sat in the dark, on the center of his bed. With fingertips lovingly tracing over the newly inflicted mark in his arm from the blood tendered kiss of the scissors, his eyes fell over the digital display of his alarm clock. 3am.
The house was quiet as Kazuya stepped out of his bedroom, his bare feet falling silent along the corridor as he rested a fingers along the handle to Lee’s room. With a slight turn of the knob, Kazuya was granted access to Chaolans new domain, awashed in the light of the bright moon riding high in the night sky, it’s pale milky essence dripping through the window in thick ribbons of heavenly promise. For a moment, the young Mishima glanced around the room, noting the transformation from plain to distinctly decorated in Chaolans almost classy style. The various boxes from this afternoons shopping events were piled neatly in the corner, stacked more than half as high as the ceiling and there was still more unpacking to be done.
Feeling the currents of rage licking at his form in bright forking bands of lightning, Kazuya stepped over to the sleeping Lee Chaolan, tilting his head to watch the boy...lost in the soft arms of sleep. Lee looked like an angel, a seraphim from the Western Biblical Hierarchy...his long silver hair glowing like a radiant beacon under the moons gentle ministrations. He was too beautiful for a little boy...his skin too fair and unmarred.
With a sudden motion, Kazuya cupped his hand over Chaolans mouth...forcing the boy to jolt his dark almond eyes open. The young Mishima swung himself up onto Lee’s chest, using his knees to pin the beautiful boys shoulders into the bed. Lee kicked wildly, clawing his hands into Kazuya. “I will release your mouth if you do not scream...” Kazuya hissed.
Lee nodded emphatically, startled by his awakening. He could not take his eyes from Kazuya’s...there was something almost unnatural...as if swirls of blue tinged lightning were flashing between the pupil and iris. It had to be a play of the moon on his new brothers features. “What..what are you doing?”
Kazuya answered with the kiss of his back fist across Lee Chaolans delicate face, the impact making a dull thudding sound as the silver haired boy winced, drawing his face to the side. Kazuya snickered, slapping the other side of Lee’s face, forcing the boy to turn his head in the opposite direction with the force of the blow.
Lee bit down on his cheek, issuing frothing blood from his lips as Kazuya led into a series of punches about Chaolans face, chest and arms. He did not scream, though he wanted to. He did not cry...though the pain was incredible. Lee waited for the most opportune moment and rolled his body forward with a sudden rush, drawing his knee up into Kazuya’s chest and knocking him with a large crash from the bed.
Kazuya rose from the floor, rubbing his newly tender knuckles as the corridor light flashed on. Heihachi grasped Kazuya by the back of the throat, dragging him into his room and slamming the door behind them both.
Lee sat up, hearing the growling voice of their awakened father and the repetitive sound...a soft, dull thud, echoing from behind Kazuya’s bedroom door. Rubbing his cheeks, Chaolan could feel the area was blazing hot and tender...swelling beneath the slight touch of his fingertips. What had brought this on? Lee was only minding his own business...sleeping comfortably in his new bed....
Heihachi stormed out from Kazuya’s room, brushing something from his knuckles as he slammed the door on his exit. Was that blood? Father turned the light off, continuing down the corridor and into the west wing without saying a word.
Lee rose, shaking as his soft footfalls made gentle creaks on the floor boards of the corridor between the brothers rooms. Pressing his ear to Kazuya’s door, Chaolan could hear a soft whimpering sound...was the young Mishima...crying?
Despite his better judgement, consumed with fear, Lee rapped his hand gently...nearly soundlessly on Kazuya’s door. The sound...quieted. Lee knocked once again, shaking as he stepped into the entrance way. Kazuya was laying on his bed, his legs curled up toward his chest. The moon light coming through the window shone down as the young Mishima lifted his face to see the intruder. The skin of his visage was black with blood, smeared all over his cheeks...across his nose...and under one cruelly swollen eye. “Are....are you...alright....?”
“Get out!” Kazuya croaked in agony, hefting the notebook beside his bed...heaving it to slam into the wall just inches from where Chaolan stood. “Just...get out....” His tone softened as he rested his head back down on the pillow...spattered with his own blood.
“I’m sorry....” Lee gasped, his hand drawing to his mouth. “Oh god...I’m so sorry....” The silver haired boy had seen beatings like this before, on the faces of the street walkers and drug addicts that stumbled through the night time Korean streets. Vicious, brutal, these beatings were often senseless and sudden...but horrifyingly violent.
Lee forced himself to back out of the room, closing the door quietly..as he stepped into his own. The sound of Kazuya’s tormented breathing haunted him..forcing him to lay in bed with only one eye closed, the vision still lingering in his mind. Why did Father do this? Could this happen to him?
Lee awoke with a startle as morning dripped it’s soft, cold light across his tender and slightly bruised visage. He did not remember falling to sleep. Was last night just a dream? Did it ever actually happen?
Rising quickly, Lee changed into a set of his new clothes before rushing to the bathroom to relieve the intense pressure on his bladder. After brushing his teeth and running a comb through his hair, Lee walked downstairs into the formal dining room.
“Good Morning, Lee.” Heihachi smiled, looking to the tender bruises on Chaolans pale face.
“Good Morning Father...” Lee smiled, drawing his hands into his pockets. He must have been dreaming. Kazuya was sitting at the table, his back to him, amidst a series of textbooks as he wrote feverishly to the right of Heihachi.
Stepping over to Heihachis other side, Lee took a step back. Kazuya looked up at him beneath high arched brows...his right eye swollen and black and blue..as was the bridge of his nose.
It did happen...Lee could not help but stare as he seated himself, half in shock from the realization washing over him. Jumping slightly, Lee pressed back into his chair as the servents filled his dish with an assortment of breakfast foods Lee had never tasted before. Looking to Heihachi, the older Mishima smiled...as if nothing had happened...as if his blood son was not injured. It was like Kazuya was not even sitting there to the eyes of their father.
“Eat your breakfast Lee, this morning I will take you to school with Kazuya and enroll you. With luck you will begin tomorrow. In the meantime, I will show you around the Company which I own and work within. Perhaps, if you are interested, someday you may be employed there as well.” Heihachi took a sip of his tea as Kazuya glanced up, narrowing his eyes as he spoke to Lee. The older Mishima seemed to not even notice the hateful glance cast by his blood son.
“Alright, Father...” Lee nodded, lifting his fork as he stared ahead to his plate. He could not meet Kazuya’s eyes...not knowing that this had happened because of him. If Lee had taken the vengeful fists of his brother without fighting back, Heihachi never would have heard the thud of Kazuya crashing onto the floor...and he never would have stormed into the corridor to find their scuffle. If Lee would have just...taken it...He might have befriended Kazuya by this morning, as was often the case on the rough Korean streets. If you fought someone and proved yourself...sometimes you walked away with friends. Sometimes...you just walked away.
But now it might be too late, Lee realized as he took a bite of sausage link...amazed with the flavor that burst into his mouth....Kazuya and he might not ever be friends....
Heihachi kept his promise, enrolling Chaolan in the private school which Kazuya attended. Once he received his registrar of classes and his new unindividualized uniform, the elder Mishima brought Lee to the uptown Tokyo business district. For the first time, Lee let his eyes fall on the towering skyscraper, watching the sun glint from the distinguished gold plaque lettering on the dark face of the building. The Mishima Financial Corporation.
Heihachi walked Lee through the maze of halls and offices, bringing him to the second to last level. Once Lee stepped off the elevator his eyes set focus on the ornate double oak doors.
“This is my office.” The CEO stated, proudly.
Lee stepped inside as Heihachi held the door for him. The inside of the office was huge...and elegant. The decor was reminiscent of Feudal Japan, rich in the grandeur of all the by-gone era’s former glory.
“Well, my boy, what do you think?” Heihachi closed the door behind them as he stepped into the office, bracing his hands behind his back.
“It’s...incredible, father. You own all of this?” Lee turned with awe in his dark almond eyes.
“Yes Lee, I own this entire company from the basement to the dojo resting on the top floor above this office. Someday, if you like, you could study abroad and learn the administrative process behind an expansive corporation like this. You never know, perhaps someday you could be sitting behind this desk. The Zaibatsu could be in your hands.” Heihachi smiled subtly through his own deceit. Lee would never move up through the ranks to control the Zaibatsu. But instilling the desire in the child could prove an effective weapon to fuel Kazuya’s own intention to sit at it’s helm. A rivalry for ownership would bring out the most intense points in Kazuya’s leadership skills.
“I will father, I will make you proud of me.” Lee smiled, looking down along Tokyo from the stained glass windows...watching the world mottle into a mix of busy colors and beautiful distortions.
“My boy, you already do.” Heihachi turned, smiling coldly. The chessboard was set and the pawns were poised to strike the first moves.