Beginnings * Lesson Plan
Lee stumbled through his first weeks of school, intent on learning the layout of the social hierarchy. Word spread quickly through his peers that he was Kazuya Mishima’s adopted brother...and Lee found himself looked upon with more than a slight bit of fear. The reputation his brother carried was as a social outcast...by choice.
Kazuya was exceptionally skilled in martial arts, having already won several first place trophies in local tournament competitions. His brother was an anomaly, a powerful figure with intense presence at a tender age; though Kazuya mostly kept solemnly to himself. But there was another reaction to Chaolans presence at the private school for the pampered children of the upper crust of Tokyo Society, quite the opposite of fear. Lee Chaolan was treated as an outcast himself, an adoptee into this elite microcosm. Regardless of who his brother was, Lee was met with the thrill of angry young fists from a minority of students in a state of social rebellion against the silver haired boy. The ringleader of his torment was Benjiro Kioto.
Lee barely saw his adopted brother in school and outside of the car ride to and from, Kazuya seemed to avoid him. Perhaps their lack of crossed paths were at the behest of Heihachi’s fists, though Lee saw no further display of violence as he had witnessed that infamous night.
Lee came home each day and spent time in training and the study of meditative philosophy with the old sage, Jinfrey Wang. The pair trained in the gardens together, while Heihachi and Kazuya worked their ancestral art in the dojo.
Chaolan let his mind wander a moment as the limo pulled toward the Mishima Compound. Kazuya had not been in school today, instead the young Mishima was competing in a tournament outside of Tokyo proper. This posed a strong potential motivation for why Benjiro and his lackeys had ceased the threats and teasing to finally make good on Lee’s prolonged torment. A group of classmates had cornered Lee during Lunch break, swinging with vicious kicks and punches to which Chaolan managed to counter. Lee fought them all, one on one, until a lucky punch landed him onto the concrete. Then, like a pack of wolves, the boys were on him...all at once, holding him down while the ringleader, Benjiro, beat the young silver haired boy. His lip split, chest and arms bruised...and a black eye, the boys rescinded into school leaving their mocking laughter ringing through Lee Chaolans ears.
Sighing softly, Lee grabbed his books by the leather thong strap, hoisting them over his shoulder as he walked into the main fore, covering his left eye with the cup of his palm. He was not yet ready for Heihachi to see the mark, unsure of how his father would react to the weakness Chaolan displayed at being pinned down and unable to fight back.
Changing into regular clothes, Lee studied himself in the mirror...his gaze intense on the swelling and bruising along the top of his cheek that wrapped along the lid of the eye. Growling, he kicked half heartedly at the frame of his bed...pacing in disdain. Wang was not coming for him this day...that gave Lee enough time to prepare himself for the disapproving look of his father at the dinner table. There would be no way to hide the hideous mark from the all seeing eyes of Heihachi Mishima.
The servents called Lee down for dinner just after 5 o’clock. Clasping his hands resignedly behind his back, Chaolan made his way down the steps to the main fore...into the formal dining room to find Heihachi and Kazuya already seated. Shuffling toward the table with his head hung low...allowing the long errant tendrils of his silver hair to hang in his face, falling over his eyes, Lee took his seat.
Heihachi was silent at first, allowing Lee a chance to glance upward to his brother...noticing the large trophy on the table before him. Kazuya had come in first place, though that did not surprise Chaolan. Across from him, his brother sat rigidly, his hands folded before him like the perfect mold of his father. Only when Kazuya cast an irritated glance upward to Chaolan for being studied...did Kazuya see the discoloration and swelling around Lee’s left eye.
Heihachi waved the servant in to serve as another offered drinks. “Your brother has come in first place in the tournament, Lee, have you nothing to say to him for all his hard work?” The old mans voice was unusually gruff.
“Forgive me Father...brother.” Lee whispered without lifting his head to meet his fathers gaze. “Congratulat....” A hand slammed along the thick polished wood of the table as the Elder Mishima’s voice boomed. “Your Brother, Chaolan, is weak and spineless. Do not offer him congratulations, offer him condolences and I tell you why. In one single match he managed to destroy the very workings of the ancestral art of Mishima style karate. Once again he was sullen and distracted...sloppy and weak.”
Lee pressed his arms into his lap as Heihachi set him up to degrade Kazuya once more. This was an almost common place practice anymore...using the silver haired boys words to defame the fragile self confidence of the young Mishima. Lee chose to remain quiet, else give Heihachi any further ammunition to use against Kazuya.
“That is not so, Father.” Kazuya barked in a low voice...casting a narrowed, wicked glance to Heihachi. “I fought with honor and courage, till my blood mixed with sweat and turned the fighting mats red.”
Heihachi stood, slamming his fist down onto the table once again. Kazuya rose as well, kicking his chair back onto the floor as he braced his knuckles on the hard wood. “Don’t make me beat you boy.....” The elder Mishima growled, narrowing his own eyes and making a step to come around the corner of the square table.
“Please....father..brother....” Lee rose as well, watching Heihachi’s eyes change shape as his glance fell upon his adopted son.
“What is that on your face, Chaolan?” He stepped closer, lifting Lee’s chin with the edge of his fingertips to inspect the swollen, black and blue eye.
“I was attacked this afternoon by a group of boys...I fought them off one at a time but then they all attacked. They don’t like me because I am not one of them...”
“Who gives a damn why they do not like you. How could you let this happen? Are you losing your fire and becoming weak like your brother, Lee?” Heihachi smirked, turning his glance to Kazuya.
“Go put a steak on this, it will curb the swelling and then return to the table. I see I will have to take you into the dojo and teach you something more than what Wang has tutored you in. We will begin this weekend. In the meantime, do as I say.”
Heihachi returned to his seat though Kazuya did not. “Who did this to you?” Kazuya hissed through pressed, sneering lips.
“Benjiro Kioto and his friends...I fought back but they held me down and Benjiro gave me this..to remember I am not one of them...” Lee let his molten silver hair fall before his face once more, hiding his shame before walking into the kitchen to do as Father asked.
Kazuya resumed his seat, brooding as the air grew thick around him. The only one who had the right to lay hands upon Lee Chaolan was his brother....
Lee and Kazuya rode to school together in silence. The swelling had gone down from Chaolans black eye, though the discoloration was a vulgar display of malicious brutality....for foolish means and ideals.
“Aren’t you going to talk to me at all Kazuya?” Lee asked softly, looking to his adopted brother as his fingertips played against the leather thong strap holding his books.
Kazuya turned his cold glance toward Chaolan, studying the obscene mark on his upper and lower lid. “What is there to say, Lee. I don’t like you, remember?”
“Oh.” Lee sighed, turning his gaze away, letting molten silver bangs fall before his face.
Kazuya tapped his knuckles on the window pane, eager for this car ride to be over. There were things to take care of....far more important than meager discussion with his brother.
The limo let both young men off along the side of the school yard. Lee headed out as soon as the car came to a stop. Kazuya was too much like his father, allowing the chauffeur to do his job before the young man stepped out onto the concrete.
With deadly intent, the young Mishima stalked through the school yard. The fenced in enclosure was bustling with hyperactive children of all school ages, segregated into groups by grade level. Lee joined the few friends he had made, glancing back over his shoulder to watch Kazuya from beneath the edges of his liquid silver mane. Kazuya looked like a tiger on the prowl. What was he up to? Lee found himself wondering before he lost sight of his brother in the mass of students lining the yard.
Narrowing his eyes as he stalked the enclosed perimeter, Kazuya smiled venomously. Benjiro Kioto stepped into line, joining his grade level as the assembled groups were prepared to be led through the doors into the school. Kazuya joined the group. Though Benjiro and the young Mishima were in the same grade, they shared no classes.
Slinging his leather thong strap over his shoulder, Kazuya walked into homeroom, folding his arms before his chest as he watched the clock. Halfway through the days first lesson, the young Mishima rose from his seat, purposefully...arrogantly striding from class. Slamming the door behind him, Kazuya ignored the cries from his teacher to return to his seat, intent on his actions as the whispers from his classmates hummed about the air; astonished at the blatant disobedience ebbing from the young Mishima.
Kazuya strode through the hallway, pushing each classroom door he passed, open along his way. Storming into one of the several newly accessible portals, the young Mishima drew into the aisle of the classroom, stopping before Benjiro Kioto.
“Kazuya Mishima, this is not your homeroom, you are interrupting the lesson. Please return to class at once.” The teacher bellowed, poised at the chalk board before her.
Benjiro Kioto chuckled as Kazuya looked down on him with malicious eyes. “Run along Mishima, unless you want some of what I gave that Korean street trash brother of yours.”
Kazuya felt his hands fly as blue tinted lightning forked through his irises. Smashing Benjiro along the bridge of the nose, Kazuya could hear the bone pop brutally under the force of his punch. The young Mishima grasped Benjiro from his seat by the hair, lifting him up over his desk to crash onto the floor as Kazuya dragged the bleeding boy by the tufts of his mane, out into the hallway.
Benjiro Kiotos’ screams filled the quiet hall as he kicked at the floor, his hands grasping at Kazuya’s wrists in a vain attempt to free himself. With a thrust of obscene force, Kazuya hurled Benjiro from the floor to smash against the lockers which lined the wall. Students from nearby classes filled the corridor like a tidal wave, cheering and screaming as they encircled the two boys. Lee Chaolan was among the throng, drawing himself as close to the scuffle as he could. In the background, teachers fought to make their way through, meeting with little success as they attempted to scream above the incessant mantra’s of their students.
“You are weak and without honor. It is time to atone for your sins, boy.” Kazuya hissed as an electric current forked wickedly down along his forearm. Chaolan gasped, watching the sudden occurrence of lightning that seemed to materialize from thin air to hum along the length of Kazuya’s arm.
Repeated flash punch combination blows pounded the back of Benjiros head into the metal lockers. The sickly smell of burnt ozone weighed heavily in the air as Benjiro fell downward, crumpling over only to be met with the young Mishima’s Twin pistons...his fists slamming cruelly into his victims abdomen.
Benjiro Kioto fell onto the floor, blood seeping from his nose and lips...his eyes swelling shut from the impact of Kazuya’s punches. The boy vomited gore onto the marble floor of the pristine private school as Kazuya lifted his leg to connect with the left splits kick...ending with the demon scissors as his strong frame connected with the spine of the young Kioto. Kazuya rolled back viciously, straddling the chest of his adversary, his eyes glazed over with blood lust. Wrapping his bare hands around the boys throat and squeezing tight to his esophagus...Kazuya lifted the back of Benjiros head to slam against the floor repeatedly.
Kill him Kazuya....Kill him.... The demon hissed, causing Kazuya to smash the boys skull into the floor with all his furious strength.
Finally the teachers separated the two boys, one sinking down to comfort the unfortunate Benjiro as the others threw Kazuya from his classmates body. Benjiro was slightly blue...grasping his bruised airway, unable to move his legs. Several of the instructors drew up behind Kazuya, screaming at him on the top of their lungs as he shrugged off their hands, glaring darkly to each of them. Without another word, the young Mishima turned, his glance falling onto the horrified face of Lee Chaolan before walking himself to the principles office.
Kazuya sat in the isolation of the principals office, the schools’ top official refusing to be in the same room with the frightful visage and deadly temper of the young Mishima. Seated with his hands folded against his chest, Kazuya was still inflamed by the ungodly act of destroying his opponent. In the hallway early this morning he had sacrificed the lamb and proven once and for all he was not as weak as Heihachi often told him.
“Boy.” Heihachi barked, leaning against the doorjamb, looking down upon his son. “What have you done?”
“I have defended the honor of my family and unmarred the disgrace Lee Chaolan encountered at the hands of a stronger opponent.” His voice was monotone, cold and unfeeling.
“What you have done is crippled the young Benjiro Kioto, breaking his spine in three separate places. Are you some kind of animal, boy?” Heihachi raised his brow hiding his half smirk for the beast he had so lovingly created.
“He was weak and lacking in honor. The break of his body is only the visible proof to the shattering of his spirit.” Kazuya glared up toward his father, the lightning crackling along his dark glance.
A firm hand came around to smack the young Mishima onto the floor...only to pull him up by his hair. “You are coming home with me now. This little indiscretion of yours has cost me a great deal of time and money. I was forced to donate more funds than a private school will ever need in order to keep this from your permanent record. Not to mention the extensive cash I will be forced to lay out for young Master Kioto’s doctor bills.”
A knock came to the door as the Principal of the school stepped into the room. “Dono Mishima, may I have a word with you before you bring Kazuya home.”
“Of course.” Heihachi nodded, glaring to his son before stepping out of the secluded office with the school official.
“Dono Mishima, due to the violent nature of your sons attack, I am forced to ask you if there are any problems at home, any erratic shifts in his behavioral pattern as of late. I need something to file into the report before I have it sealed.”
“I am not sure I understand.” Heihachi crosses his massive arms, raising one eyebrow.
The official stammered. “Children that come from abusive homes often act out in excessive manner. I understand the young Kazuya is growing in reputation and renowned in local martial arts tournaments throughout Japan. Your own name is not unknown within the circuit either, Dono Mishima. I wonder if perhaps the mix of home, family, school, the adoption of your Korean son and competing is not taking it’s toll on the mental faculty and impulse control of your son.”
“Are you implying that I abuse my son? I push the boy to be the best he can be with the only encouragement he could possibly understand. Am I strict?” Heihachi barked, causing the secretaries in the main room to startle. “Yes, I am strict. He is a boy and boys need discipline, else he will grow to be sniveling, spineless and weak. So unless this is one of those half assed intervention techniques for the welfare of my son, I suggest you take your opinions and questions elsewhere. Now, are we finished?”
The principal stammered slightly, pushing his glasses up onto his nose. “Yes Sir. Kazuya may return to class tomorrow and his file will be sealed. Might I make a suggestion....”
“No, you may not.” Heihachi turned, hissing as he retrieved Kazuya from the confines of the other room, ushering him out with a hateful glare to the official.
Kazuya fell to his knees, his head hanging down...chin pressed to his chest as blood seeped from his eyes, nose and mouth. His arms hung limply along his soon to be muscular thighs. It hurt to think...it hurt to breath. The only conscious feeling....was the pain.
Heihachi stood before Kazuya, his lips curled into a sneer. “You are nothing more than an animal boy. A sniveling little beast with no sense of honor. You are nothing, do you hear me. Look at me when I speak to you.”
Kazuya jerked his glance up, his eyes lit in the fire of defiance, though he could not sustain the strength to hold his head straight without it wobbling from the jarring impacts delivered at the hands of his father. His shoulder was twisted cruelly, the muscles strained and aching down to his brutally Geta stomped leg.
Heihachi was relentless, beating a sense of worthlessness into the young Mishima. “You...Are...Nothing, Boy.”
With a vicious slam, the older Mishima slammed the force of his hand into the back of Kazuya’s head, sending him down onto his chest as he tried in vain to raise himself up with his strained shoulder. Placing his Geta foot on Kazuya’s shoulder blade, Heihachi forced him down further with a vicious laugh. “On your belly like a worm. What a fitting position for you.”
Kazuya glared, his cheek resting in a gathered puddle of his own blood. With a sudden motion from a curled fist, Kazuya watched the world go black as he tumbled into the endless chasm of himself....the headlong fall into his purple tinted, abysmal soul.
Lee Chaolan ran into the main fore, dropping his books as he tore headlong through the halls calling Kazuya’s name. Heihachi stood in the formal dining room, his hands clasped behind his back as he turned at the silver haired boys approach.
“Father...” Lee panted, stopping to gasp for breath. “Where is Kazuya...I have to...”
Heihachi held up a single hand, baying the child to remain quiet as he paced. “Your brother nearly killed young Master Kioto this morning all in the name of your honor. Do you know what that means, boy?”
Lee shook his head as Heihachi leaned forward with a power punch, knocking Chaolan to the floor unexpectedly. Lee rubbed his jaw in shock as Heihachi leaned over him with a growl before lifting him by the throat. “Your brother, for all his hatred of you, defended you. That makes him the stronger of the two...leaving you the weaker. I do not care if you come home in pieces, boy. You will lose to NO ONE or I will rip you apart myself, do you understand me?”
Lee gasped, choking under the pressure of the older Mishimas hands around his tender, pale throat. With a sudden thud, Heihachi let him crash to the floor. “Now, you will wash hands and come to dinner alone. From there you will go directly to bed until I have devised an appropriate punishment to fit your cowardice. Do you understand me?”
Lee drew up to his knees, rubbing his throat. He had seen this rage before...in the eyes of the young Kazuya Mishima.
“Y-Yes Sir...” Chaolan croaked, running up the stairs to do as he was told.
Heihachi stormed off to the west wing, slamming the double doors behind him in a fit of rage, leaving Lee to return to the dining room to have his supper, alone.
Lee pushed his food around on the plate beneath the watchful eyes of the quiet attending servant. “May I have a drink of water, please?” the silver haired boy asked, forcing the servant to retreat to the kitchen to fulfill the young Masters request. Working quickly, Chaolan stuffed a good portion of his dinner into his pants pocket, rearranging the food on his plate and taking a spoonful to make it appear he had eaten.
The servant returned as Lee excused himself. “Father told me I am to go to bed now, Baiko, thank you for the water.” Lee took his glass with him as he ascended the stairs, checking over his shoulder as he retreated to his room.
Closing the door behind him, Lee propped a chair against the lock before rushing to the window to open it. Looking back quickly, Lee stood on the sill, lunging for the limbs of an outstretched tree for his escape into the night. Once on solid ground, Lee snuck around to the front, hefting a small pebble from the ground at Kazuya’s window.
The first two attempts failed but the third drew the window open as Kazuya leaned out to see Chaolan two stories below him. Without saying a word, Lee motioned for the silhouette of Kazuya to follow him and instantly ran for his very life toward the edge of Mishima property...toward the cliffs.
Lee sat against the rocks, letting his feet dangle down as he looked over his shoulder almost...paranoid. Kazuya was no where to be seen, perhaps he had decided not to join Chaolan after all.
Several moments passed as Lee tossed stones into the chasm below him. Suddenly he jerked forward, nearly lunging into the chasm from overwhelming fear. Kazuya was on his knees just behind Chaolan, bracing himself with his arms only to fall on all fours. Lee rushed toward him, leaning down as he tried to meet the young Mishima’s eyes.
“Oh my god....” Lee reached a hand out to touch Kazuya’s bloodied face. The young Mishima slapped his hand away, his body crashing to the ground in sheer exhaustion. “What did he do to you, Kazuya?”
“Nothing...” Kazuya croaked, coughing up a healthy portion of crimson essence, as Lee watched with horror as the blood frothed from his lips. “I fell.”
Lee sat back along his one ankle, his other leg bent up to allow him to brace his cheek on his knee. “I hear Benjiro is pretty bad....and I wanted to say thank you...”
Kazuya forced himself to sit Indian style on the damp grass, his eyes looking almost pleadingly to the darkness of the stars over head as Lee continued, withdrawing something from his pocket. “I wasn’t very hungry after Fathers...physical lecture for my weaknesses...so I saved this for you, I thought you might be hungry...”
Lee placed a handful of evening’s dinner into Kazuya’s hand as the young Mishima looked up, his glance caught somewhere between hatred and gratitude. Lifting his hand to his mouth, Kazuya ate the offering rapidly, like a starving dog.
“I know he did this to you because of me....” Lee let his fingers drape along the ground, pushing loose dirt with his nails as errant tangles of silver hair fell over his eyes.
“I told you, I fell....” Kazuya mumbled with a mouth full of sushi, gulping for breath as the sudden intake of food threatened to deprive him of vital breath. Once he finished the food Lee had procured for him, Kazuya leaned back....his eyes studying the almost angelic face of the silver haired boy before him.
“Kazuya...I know you don’t like me but you are the only family I have ever had unless you count Han who used to make me do really bad things for him.....” Lee gulped on the verge of pouring his heart out before his nonchalant brother.
To Chaolans surprise, Kazuya spoke in an almost...delicate tone. “What was your life like in Korea?”
Lee almost smiled, his eyes connecting to the dark almond depth of Kazuya’s. The young Mishima was the very aura of strength, bloodied like a warrior...dying for a lost cause...aching for the warm lazy security of childhood....fading like a distant summer night dream.
“Han raised me since I was a boy. He never told me anything about my mother and father so I never really asked. Han was once a renowned martial artist in the art of Ninjitsu, until his legs were broken by the Korean Mafia for outstanding gambling debts. He trained me from the time I was first able to walk...he also taught me how to steal and pick pockets so that we could survive. I used to fight alot in Korea...everyone seemed to be a part of a gang owning the streets and calling them turf. No matter where you walked, you were on someone elses turf.” Lee brushed a hand back through his mane of hair, resting his cheek on his knee as he admired Kazuya’s silent...brooding sense of power. “That is how I made most of my friends. We used to fight and after the fight everything was almost forgiven. They used to help me shake down the tourists and they used to watch my back for me when the expensive cars would pull up to the street corners....wanting....” Lee paused, wincing slightly at the invasion of memories he wished to forget.
“Han put you on the streets to do all those things? Didn’t you know it was wrong?” Kazuya asked, his eyes staring into the fathomless depths of the chasm just a few feet away from where he sat.
“I didn’t have a choice, if I didn’t make a score we would go without eating until I was old enough to do other things to get the money for us.”
There was a long moment of silence before Kazuya spoke. “So he made you go with the people in the expensive cars...for money. Did you...you know...?”
Lee let his eyes hide behind the silver tangles of hair that careened like a tidal wave against his face, the shine of his mane heightened by the liquid tears of the moons brilliant light. He only nodded, unable to force a word to pass from his lips. It seemed like an eternity until Lee felt he could put the horrible images behind him to speak again.
“That is when I met Father. I was fighting in the back alleys against a group of older boys who wanted the money I had taken fair and square from the tourists stumbling around the Korean streets. He offered to give me another life....and I accepted.”
“Do you miss Korea?” Kazuya asked, manipulating the conversation to keep the topic off of himself. It was much easier to learn the life story of another than it was to explain the horrors of his own.
“I feel like an outsider here. Like I am wearing someone elses clothes..living someone elses life. Benjiro saw through me and so did his friends. You can clean me up and give me all these fancy things but I am still a street rat. Like the story of pearls on a swine. What about you? I know your mom died a few years ago, Father showed me her picture once. She was very pretty and she looked really strong, just like you. Do you miss her?”
Kazuya sat so still, Lee wondered if he was even breathing. With a painfully slow motion, the young Mishima cast his eyes toward the dark night, lowering his lashes as he brought a trembling hand to brace against his chest as if he was feeling something beneath his shirt. “I miss her more than air to a drowning man. I wish she was still here. Father was different when my mother was alive.” The young Mishima was almost...wistful.
Lee nodded softly, feeling as if he were falling into a chasm of endless despair, drowning in the sorrow that suddenly ebbed from his adopted brother. The air was heavy with heart ache and it was the first time Lee felt anything other than hostility brewing behind the brooding eyes of Kazuya. Without hesitating, Lee pushed himself forward, leaning over gently to place a soft kiss just to the side of Kazuya’s mouth, brushing his lips with his own, tenderly....understandingly.
The young Mishima’s eyes widened slightly as his hand rushed up, his fingertips bracing against the tip of his lip, where Chaolan had kissed. “What was that for?”
Lee shrugged his shoulders, returning his fingertips to dig along the dirt. “I don’t know, I just thought that might make you feel better.”
Unsure of what to say, Kazuya said nothing at all. His inner thoughts battling against the wave of invasion and comfort Chaolans innocent kiss had brought him. It had been so long since he had seen affection. The soft embrace of his mother had been replaced by the angry fists of his father. Pain was all there was to Kazuya. Any other kindness was rare...and suspect.
Kazuya lay in bed on his side, curled beneath the warmth of his comforter, his head resting gently on the feather softness of his pillows. Soft, gentle tears spilled over the rim of his eyes, brought about by a simple question Lee had asked him just a few hours earlier.
Do you miss her? Chaolans voice echoed through his thoughts, stirring old memories to life. Caught up in a wealth of anger and pain, Kazuya had pushed the anguish of his mothers passing into the back of his mind, only to be jogged to the forefront by an innocent question.
The morning light promised triumph against the horizon line, biting the chill of the damp dawn. Lifting his trembling fingers to his lids, Kazuya wiped the errant tears that streaked down his porcelain cheek, whetting the pillow with his lamentation.
“I miss you...” Kazuya whispered in a soft wrack of sobs as his broken voice registered to his own ears. With the tip of his tongue he could taste the bittersweet salt of his pain as his thoughts sang like a dirge for a mother who was silent and cold, slumbering in eternity....leaving him....alone.
“I feel this anger growing inside of me....” Kazuya sniffled, blinking his moist lashes as he cast his eyes to the barren wall of his room. “...and sometimes, it scares me....”
Your mother can not hear you, little Mishima...but I can. Embrace the anger and vengeance within, only then can you harness the power of your Ki. We have much to accomplish together, do not traffic in the past. Tears are in vain, a weakness, an emotion you will overcome. To reap your power you must banish the thought of regret...humanity...anguish...forever.
Kazuya wrapped the covers tight to his chin as the last of his tears fell, the words of the demon resounding like the soft kiss of his mothers hand along his temple.
Looking up once more, Kazuya whispered wordlessly to the resonating memory of his mother, careful to silence his thoughts from the all knowing mind of the devil. “...please...help me....”
Lee followed Kazuya around for the next several days, often meeting his adopted brother at the door to his classroom between transitions as well as constantly pestering him at home, though the young Mishima refused to acknowledge him. Chaolan had seen Kazuya in a moment of weakness...of doubt. A fact Kazuya could not manage to displace, though he knew all Lee wanted was to make another connection to strengthen the bond they hard shared that night.
Kazuya worked hard at avoiding the irrepressible Chaolan at home as well. It seemed everytime the door to his bedroom would open, Lee would bound toward it, trying to draw the young Mishima’s attention at every turn. The situation was grating and incessant until finally during lunch recess on Friday, Kazuya’s anger had grown to critical.
The young silver haired boy nearly bounced toward Kazuyas empty lunch table, munching on a brownie. The young Mishima turned his head, glancing over his shoulder as if to avoid eye contact with Chaolan...only to notice the incessant whispering of his fellow schoolmates as each tried to avoid being noticed. Since the day Kazuya seriously injured Benjiro Kioto, the rumors and sense of isolation nearly tripled. It was as if the young Mishima had confirmed everything his classmates speculated with the single incident and the absence of a hospitalized Benjiro.
“Hey Kazuya, want to go out behind the school and smoke a cigarette? This kid in my class gave me a whole pack and a lighter if I promised to be nice to him so that you won’t beat him up. Can you believe it? Ever since you put a hurting on Benjiro, everyone wants to be my friend.” Lee chimed, sucking down a pint of milk in one full swig.
“I am glad it has made you so popular.” Kazuya returned his attention to his lunch, his eyes staring down to the plate of food as coldly as his voice snided the irrepressible Chaolan.
“Why are you still sitting all alone? You are the talk of the whole school, doesn’t everyone want to be your friend too?” Lee brushed a hand back through his silver bangs.
Kazuya pushed his tray away and rose without saying another word. Grasping his books, the young Mishima stormed out of the lunch hall, slamming the door and nearly sending all his assembled class mates out of there seats with fear and anxiety. Lee stood, throwing his milk container onto the tray before following after his aggravated brother.
After searching the school yard thoroughly, Lee sighed. Kazuya was no where to be seen, hidden amidst the throng of overly hyper students working off their collective energies in a variety of lunch time games. Cocking his head to the side, Lee looked past the gatherings, squinting his eyes to see just past the dappled light of the distant field to a small patch of woods which separated the school from the main road.
Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Lee walked along the clay track and out into the line of trees in the woods. Tipping his head to the side, Lee made his way through the slight underbrush. Sitting with his back against the thick trunk of an old tree, just cloaked enough by the shadow of the woods to avoid detection, rested the young Mishima.
Kazuya had his head tilted back, his thick ebony mane resting upswept in it’s severe style against the peeling bark. His legs were fully extended and crossed at the ankles as he seemed deep in quiet meditation, though something was sorely out of place. Chaolan stopped, noticing Kazuya’s arm resting against his thigh, there was a strong taint of blood rushing down his creamy flesh, just below the inside bend of the elbow...as if someone had slashed him with a sharp implement. Moving to take a step, Lee heard something snap under his foot, drawing the young Mishima’s eyes open with a deadly gleam.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Kazuya asked with a venomous ring in his voice. His opposite arm raised to roll down the sleeve of his school uniform, covering over the inflicted arm.
“You stormed out so I came looking for you....what happened to your arm?” Lee leaned down on his haunches, taking a cigarette from the pack he had been given, lighting it with a sharp inhale....followed by a cough.
“Its none of your god damn business what happened to my arm.” Kazuya barked, drawing himself to a stand and dusting the back of his pants off.
“I don’t understand, why don’t you want to talk to me?” Lee inhaled the cool menthol again, spitting the awful taste from his mouth as he spoke in half choked back coughs.
“Because I don’t like you, Lee Chaolan. When are you going to understand that? huh?” Kazuya narrowed his eyes, feeling the warm drip of blood fall into the coolness of his palm.
“Well if you don’t like me, why did you beat up Benjiro Kioto for me? Why did you sneak out and meet me the other night? Explain that to me.” Lee drew more smoke into his lips without fully inhaling, letting the cool menthol tingle past his lips, cooling the insides of his mouth.
“I don’t owe you any explanations. I don’t owe you anything. Why don’t you go back to Korea, I don’t want you here. I never wanted you here.” The young Mishima felt his temperature rising, the sweet sting of his knife inflicted wound could not seem to dissuade his rising anger.
Lee felt the air seem to change around Kazuya...as if it was becoming electrified. The small hairs on the back of Chaolans neck seemed to rise as if a current were passing around him. The scent that passed beneath Lees’ nose seemed like pure, burning energy.
“Your getting mad aren’t you...that’s where the electricity comes from. It’s not a weapon or a stun gun or anything like I thought it was, it’s you....How do you do that?” Lees voice was dripping with awe, innocent of the potential his questioning could bring.
Kazuya balled his hands into fists, feeling the current begging to be released. His breaths quickening, Kazuya closed his eyes as he tried to gather the force of his strength. “This is my last warning to you, you little bastard. Stop following me around and stop trying to get into my business or I will do to you what I did to the unfortunate Benjiro Kioto.”
Lee stood, letting his cigarette drop from between his lips to fall on the soft ground before him. Kazuya took to pace, coming toward Chaolan as Lee flinched, drawing his shoulders up protectively forcing his eyes to close; his head tilting slightly forward.
Lee felt the sharp motion of Kazuya’s body pushing against his, forcing him to step back and regain balance as both of their shoulders connected. To his surprise, the young Mishima kept walking from the small woods and out into the clearing of the track field.
Taking a breath, Lee stepped on the still smoldering cigarette. The recess bell rang sharply in the background, signifying the end of lunch break and a return to classes. Brushing his hands through his hair, Lee paced a moment to collect his thoughts. Leaning his back to the same tree Kazuya had rested against when he came upon him, Chaolan banged his head against the wood pondering the validity of Kazuya’s threat. If his adopted brother hated him so much, why had he beat up Benjiro Kioto in his name? If Kazuya felt the way he did, why did he sneak out a few nights ago to talk with Lee...and risk the punishment for getting caught?
“Damn it” Lee hissed, pushing his bent leg off of the tree, jolting him forward. Suddenly his eyes were drawn to the glint of silver, dappled by the soft light of the shading tree. Bending down, Lee brushed his hand on the ground and found a half buried knife amidst the loose dirt.
His eyes wide, Chaolan raised the knife by it’s handle, holding it up to his inspecting gaze. The handle was familiar, it was a knife taken from the kitchen at the Mishima Mansion. Turning his attention to the serrated edges of the blade, Lee narrowed his eyes. The knife was stained with blood and it was fresh blood, Chaolan could tell by the soft trickles of the crimson that trailed the silver as he held it aloft.
The wound on Kazuya’s inner forearm....was made by this knife, Lee realized, gasping softly. At that moment the situation became too obvious for even a 10 year old boy with all of Chaolans street knowledge to ever avoid.
The wound on Kazuya’s inner forearm...was made...by Kazuya.
Lee sat pensive in class, his fingertip brushing along the serrated edge of the knife he had placed for safe keeping in his pocket, which he had found in the woods where Kazuya had been sitting alone. There was no doubt in his mind that the young Mishima’s wounds were self inflicted. But why? What would drive someone to carve up their own flesh, just to watch it bleed? Why Kazuya, who seemed to have everything in his arrogant, self controlled grip?
Lee waited anxiously for the end of class, distracting himself with the notes he was constantly being passed from the newly made friends in his class. It seemed almost every young lady wanted to know if he would like to go to the movies this weekend....and all the boys wanted him to come over and hang out. Life was suddenly and rapidly changing for Lee Chaolan and his new found popularity. Now that Benjiro and his suddenly disbanded minions were nicely put out of the way, Lee was starting to enjoy school. Sadly, Lee turned each of the offers down, knowing this weekend he would not only have his Ninjitsu training but also a few hours of sparring with Father. There was also a sudden sense of worry for the well being of his adopted brother. Kazuya might tell him it is none of his business but they were brothers now.....and Lee owed the very source of his new found popularity all to Kazuya.
The bell rang as Lee rose, gathering his books quickly. A group of girls started to giggle as he walked by, causing him to cast a side smile in their direction. Unlike most boys his age, Lee was already interested in the opposite sex and they were obviously interested in him.
Giving a small wave to the admiring glances and giggling voices of his female classmates, Lee swung his thong strap bookbag onto his back before rushing from the room to meet the awaiting limousine.
Kazuya was already seated inside, tapping his fingertips impatiently as the driver closed the door behind him. Lee brushed a hand back through his silver mane as he felt the smile leave his face with the severity of the staunch air that surrounded his half brother. Kazuya was somber, solemn as usual. Chaolan decided it would be a bad time to discuss his findings, he would have to wait for a moment more intimate and quiet.
The brothers were treated to dinner without the presence of their Father, Heihachi Mishima. Baiko, the head of the servents informed them both of Heihachi’s absence due to an extended meeting though he did leave a specific message for his sons to be ready by early morning for an extended work out in the Mishima dojo. From there, Lee was expected to be ready to begin his intensive Ninjitsu training with his new teacher. Wang would then be taking Lee in the evening for further instruction in meditation and philosophy. Kazuya however, would be relegated to remaining with Heihachi all day to receive instruction in the art of their ancestral Karate.
Dinner was quiet with only the slight tension the brothers held for one another. Kazuya excused himself after only feigning interest in his dinner, toying with his freshly rolled sushi and feathered ginger, nibbling a few bites to sustain his hunger.
Lee turned to watch his adopted brother walk up the stairs as he pushed his own rolled sushi aside. He still was not accustomed to the delicacy of Japanese dishes, finding them often bland or overly exotic. Chaolan craved the deep, rich flavor of Korean Kimcha, a cabbage specialty made once the leafy vegetable had been buried for 3 days in the hot soil to spoil before being turned into a dish of indescribable taste and soothing flavor.
After passing several minutes staring into his plate, Lee rose, removing his napkin from his lap and placing it on the table. Rushing up the stairs, Lee wrapped his knuckles along Kazuya’s bedroom door, hearing only the echo of soft soothing music of an old Japanese Noh Opera reverberating from within the confines of his wall. Lee paused and knocked once again.
“Go away, Chaolan.” Kazuya hissed from inside. Lee jumped back as something smacked against the wooden door, no doubt hurled from the hand of the young Mishima.
“Kazuya...I need to talk to you....” Lee pressed his ear to the door and heard no response. “Kazuya...let me in or I will tell Father about the knife you took from the kitchen...the bloody knife....” Lee hated himself for having to threaten to go to Heihachi, though the idea had crossed his mind. Although Father was very strict with Kazuya, Lee believed his temper was forged from his love and expectations for his blood son. Lee only hoped that one day he would garner as much attention from the appraising eye of the elder Mishima.
Kazuya ripped his door open, grasping Chaolan from his thoughts and pulling him into the confines of his bedroom. It was the first time Lee had ever been inside his brothers room and for the instant he was able to glimpse it’s confines, he found it barren and yet...delicate, littered with books and candles, disheveled papers and soft music.
Instantly Lee was dragged back to reality, hoisted into the air by the collar of his shirt, his back pressed against the wall as Kazuya slammed the door shut with an extension of his leg. Using his knee, the young Mishima braced Lee up from the ground, his eyes burning with hellfire into Chaolans.
“Let me go...” Lee tried to squirm up the wall, bracing his bare foot along the strength of Kazuyas thigh.
“So you want to be a little bitch and run to daddy, let’s see you get past me first.” Kazuya growled as streaks of lightning coursed from the depth of his eyes to the length of his arm.
“Kazuya...no...I just said that...so that you would open the door. I won’t tell, I promise..I promise.” Lee bit the edge of his lip, unable to press back or away any further.
“I don’t believe you, you sniveling little bastard.” Kazuya raised his lightning charged hand, punching Chaolan full in the face.
Lee winced feeling the impact as Kazuya let his hand fly into the silver haired boy once again before dropping him to the floor.
“Where is the knife?” the young Mishima barked, his face coated with a thin sheen of sweat as the power of his Ki crackled all around him.
“Here...here...” Lee dug his hand into his pocket, stabbing his palm with the edge of the tainted knife before throwing it to the ground at Kazuya’s feet, his hands trembling.
Kazuya kicked the knife to the side of the room, hearing the handle connect with the edge of his closet door. “I told you to stay out of my business and as usual you chose not to listen. Now you will pay for your insolence with the price of your blood....”
Kazuya lunged into a vicious uppercut, lifting Lee from the floor to his feet from the force of the impact. Lee clung to the wall as blood poured from his mouth. Kazuya pressed himself into the insolent youth with an entrail smash, forcing Chaolan to cry out as he fell over, face first onto the hard wood floor.
Lee looked up, his face stained red with his blood as he drew his body up with the strength of his shaking arms. Kazuya connected his foot to Chaolans ribs with a kick as Lee sputtered down onto the floor once again.
“Is this why...you cut yourself...because you are doing to me...what Father does to you....” Lee spit the wealth of blood from his lips as he spoke, his eyes half glazed over with the shock of pain brought on by the rage of his adopted brother.
Kazuya stepped back, blinking his long lashes rapidly. His eyes fell over his stained, brutal fists before tripping over himself and landing to a seating position on the edge of his bed. Lee took the opportunity to curl himself up, pressing his back against the wall as he wiped the blood away from his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing his knuckles and fingers with his own essence.
“Just...like...father....” Kazuya whispered as he stared in disbelief to his own hands, as if they had been foreign entities acting of their own accord. “Just...like...him....”
Lee was heaving for breath, watching Kazuya through horrified eyes. The young Mishima looked up from his brutal fists to meet the frightened gaze of the young Silver haired Chaolan. Was this how his own eyes looked back at Heihachi once the beating had begun? Was that how Lee saw him now, just like their cruel, cold father? Was Kazuya losing his soul to the yawning chasm of vicious anger?
Am I going to be just like...father.... Kazuya asked himself, his shoulders shaking with the fear of realization.
No Kazuya, you will not be as Heihachi. You will be colder, more unfeeling. You will be crueler, more callous and once you give yourself to the anger at your own injustice, together we will reshape the world. Devil hissed, comfortingly.
“I don’t want to be like him, I don’t want to be cruel and unfeeling....I don’t want to lose my soul....” Kazuya whispered to someone Lee Chaolan could not see. Was the young Mishima losing his mind.
You did not lose your soul, Kazuya. You sold it to a demon for a power based solely in your hatred and vengeance. You have already surpassed your father and the only way to save yourself is to follow through with our promise. Your soul belongs to me, Kazuya Mishima. And soon your ambition will bind you to me until I AM you.
Kazuya listened to the words of the demon and felt the overwhelming urge to cry but he had no more tears to shed. At the whim of his anger he was becoming everything he despised and it seemed he was no longer in control. He had bloodied the innocent, beautiful face of Lee Chaolan...decimated the life of another boy, leaving him crippled for life all in the name of his anger for his father.
Kazuya Mishima....Son of Heihachi Mishima.
Son of Heihachi Mishima.