*
sanzunnoshita
A litany of endless meetings left the CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu glowing at his phenomenal success. The global market was his oyster, his conquer of it, inevitable.
Standing before the expansive floor to ceiling windows of his Executive office, Kazuya possessed the most refreshing view of Tokyo city’s splendor and grace. It was a city of intense prosperity with it’s almond eyes always reflecting the glory of it’s ancestors.
With his cufflink hands held almost elegantly behind his back, Kazuya let himself drift into his thoughts, enjoying a moment of peace between corporate appointments.
The cold metallic synthanization of Lee Chaolans voice buzzed through the intercom. “Jun Kazama is here for your 4 o’clock appointment, Mishima-sama, shall I send her in?”
He had entirely forgotten the appointment within his busy schedule. Kazuya felt his heart skip a beat. Quirking a high arched brow at the sudden and odd feeling, he leaned over his desk, pressing the intercom button to respond.
“Yes, Chaolan, please show Miss Kazama in.”
Straightening his deep blue Versace suit with the deep gray silk 3/4 sleeve shirt beneath, Kazuya heard the door open. Lee Chaolan entered, holding the door for Miss Kazama. She was dressed simply, yet gracefully. Her shoulder length obsidian hair was upswept, soft tendrils tickled along her smooth, angular cheek bones. Her slight, lithe frame was enveloped in a gossamer summer dress. She looked as radiant as an angel.
Kazuya nodded to Lee. “Thank you Chaolan. That will be all for now.”
Lee turned, casting a quizzical glance to his suddenly gentile brother. What effect did this woman have on him? Closing the door behind him, Lee shook his head, intrigued.
Jun approached as Kazuya stepped around his antique rosewood desk, extending his firm hand to receive her fragile, ivory grip. Surprisingly, her handshake was matched in the strength of his own. She obviously possessed a strong character.
Jun did not meet his eyes, as was traditional within Japanese society. Her slightly glossed lips seemed to tremble as she spoke. “Thank you for seeing me, Dono Mishima.”
Kazuya slowly, carefully withdrew his hand. “Of course, Miss Kazama. Please...” He motioned to the leather chair before his desk.
Jun Kazama sat, folding her dress beneath her, crossing her legs with an agonizing slowness and fluidity that spoke directly to the beast inside Kazuya Mishima. He was utterly captivated by her, by the sight and jasmine scent of her.
You pant like a spraying dog. The Devil laughed.
Jun looked up at that instant, as if she could hear the Demon that echoed through Kazuya’s mind.
Clearing his throat, Kazuya took his seat behind the desk. “Please tell me how it is I can help you, Miss Kazama?”
Jun moistened her lips slowly, looking into his eyes. Her breath caught against her throat as she found herself lost in the raging depths held beneath his lashes.
“I..I am here on behalf of the WWWC. Are you familiar with my organization, Dono Mishima?”
Kazuya nodded, interlacing his fingers before his strong chin. Business. The angelic Miss Kazama was here on serious business, no doubt connected to various allegations the Super Cop Lei Wulong had been investigating over the past several months. How could he be fooled by her Innocent appearance. The girl next door does not compete in blood sports like King of Iron Fist.
Choosing his words carefully, his eyes held hers. “Yes, Miss Kazama, I am aware of the WWWC. One could say we have a long standing relationship. Do tell me, what is it I am to be tried for, this time around?”
Jun was visibly caught off guard by the blatancy of his response. “Well, Dono Mishima, the allegations I am here to discuss with you are quite serious. Excessive activity of the Zaibatsu has been questioned in the areas of Chemical deforestation, endangerment of protected indigenous species and blatant exploitation of preserved habitats. Not to mention charges of animal cruelty and trafficking. The WWWC is conducting an investigation of the Zaibatsu’s involvement with said activities. I am here to urge you to cooperate with our investigations and halt occupation and development in these threatened areas.”
Kazuya raised a brow as he held Miss Kazamas eyes. The situation was in fact serious. The CEO had to play his cards just...so...
“I am unaware of investigations as to my holdings. The lands I develop are of course, belonging to my company.”
“No man can own the earth, Dono Mishima. You perhaps hold title to the land, but no one can ever truly own it.” Her angular cheeks were firmly set on the principle at hand.
Kazuya rose. He could feel Juns eyes on him as he walked along the expansive windows framing the executive office. “Truly?” He purposefully veiled his attempt to mock her words, leaving her unsure of the answer she should give, without offending the CEO. “Tell me, Miss Kazama, have you ever seen the city of Tokyo from this height?”
“That is hardly the purpose of our conversation, Dono Mishima. Once more I urge you...”
Kazuya glanced at her over his strong shoulder. “Indulge me, but a moment of your time.” He outstretched his hand to her, though she remained seated.
“It has no baring to the topic at hand....” she looked as though she were battling an inner conflict.
“Please Miss Kazama, do not offend my intentions.” Kazuya watched her almost adoringly. A convincing part of his manipulative act. Or was it?
Jun rose slowly, taking a deep breath. Her hand did not take his as she drew along side of him. Her dark almond eyes looked down along the city.
“Do you see beauty here, Miss Kazama?”
“I see nothing more than brick, stone and steel.” Her delicate hands slowly folded over her arms.
“Then you are looking but you are not seeing. The city of Tokyo was once wild lands, now it is bustling and alive, breathing in tune with nature. What you see is health and progress, sanitation and housing. Places of business and of leisure. The city is a sculpture, a living symphony of sights and sounds which we share with foreign visitors and with our ancestors. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, or so it has been coined. However, beauty is not singular and not solely in the wilderness of Japan.”
For a long moment, Jun looked along the bustling throng all around her. Somehow the city looked so much cleaner from this height. She turned, sharply, taking her seat once more. Kazuya followed, sitting with one hip along the edge of his desk, facing her.
“I know the lands you have in question, Miss Kazama. Are you aware of what is being built on those sites?” Gently, Kazuya laid his hand along his knee.
Jun shook her delightful head, filling his senses with a flood of jasmine. “No, Dono Mishima, I do not, but that is hardly relevant...”
Kazuya continued as though her answer had never been uttered. His words cleverly mixing the truth with lies, throwing the inspector off her agile guard. “On the sites so brazenly in question, Medical Labs have broken ground. These labs are for the study of diseases that plague mankind, employing brilliant minds with grants provided by the Ziabatsu to uncover the causes, scientific and pharmaceutical cures as well as medical therapies for these rampant epidemics. Are you opposed to research, Miss Kazama?”
Juns head was spinning in the web of Kazuya’s eyes. How did Left become Right...Down become up? “Of course not, Dono Mishima, however the plight of the WWWC focuses on the preservation of life within our wilderness, the lands surrounding them and the habitats they create.”
“When disease has ravaged us all, destroying friends and family, entire nations, do you then think the bacteria that creates these illnesses will not ravage the animal kingdom as well?”
Jun looked away, her blood pulsing in her temples.
“Do animals not possess the same soul as we, Miss Kazama? Do they not suffer hybrid forms of our own diseases, transmuted through every facet of genetics and environment?” Kazuya could feel her guard slowly ebbing away beneath his silver tongue. He forced himself to look away from the shadows overtaking her angelic eyes. Kazuya could almost see the innocence of her white wings molting beneath his twisted logic. In an instant he wanted to taste her flesh with his fingertips, feel the caress of her warm cheek along his palm.
“The life of the earth is indeed our Kin, Dono Mishima. We have a duty to protect her and all of her creatures to the best of our abilities.” It was Jun who now studied Kazuya with a sense of awe.
“You see me as a Monster to your cause, for this I humbly apologize. You have asked for my cooperation in these matters and I offer it to you now.” Kazuya glanced along his watch, feigning a sigh. “I regret that I have another appointment that I must keep. I would have liked to have spoken at greater length on this subject.”
“As would I, Dono Mishima. It is a shame we must conclude. I thank you for the time you have granted me....” Jun drew herself to a stand, extending her soft hand toward Kazuya.
Kazuya rose to his height, accepting her delicate hand with his own. “If I may take a moment outside of official business to congratulate you on your victory against Wang, he is a skilled Master. He has been a close friend of the family since my Grandfathers days”
Jun smiled, enraptured by his gentile suave. “I am humbled by your notice of the win. I have known Wang-san since I was a girl in Yakushima. He is a kind and dear man.”
Neither seemed to want to withdraw their clasped hands as a painful silence fell between them.
Juns gaze held fast to the magnet maelstrom within Kazuyas eyes.
As Kazuya’s hand held hers, he felt, for the first moment in years a sense of peace within his soul.
Clearing his throat once more, Kazuya withdrew his soft hold, breaking the trance of her beauty. “Perhaps we will continue this conversation when the demands of my schedule break, if you wish.”
“I would like that, Dono Mishima.” Juns cheeks flushed a soft, radiant pink beneath Kazuya’s appraising glance. She turned, walking from the office as Kazuya watched her avidly, drinking her fleeting image, inundating his senses with her as though she were a drink of cool water for a burning soul.
“Kazuya-san, is everything alright?” Lee asked with a half knowing smile. Brothers intuition.
Kazuya slowly snapped out of his drunken daze to the face of his brother. His voice faltering for the only moment Lee could ever recall. “Yes Brother, I am alright....”
Lee could not believe the words Kazuya issued from his usually snarling lips.
“Can I get you anything?” He asked, amazed.
“Fresh Jasmine, for the office. Night blooming jasmine. Have you ever smelled a fragrance so beautiful?” Kazuya turned, walking toward the windows. “Cancel the remainder of my appointments.”
“Yes Kazuya-san.” Lee could not help but smile. Jun Kazama must have been the most potent witch, to entrance Lei Wulong and his heartless Step Brother. The most potent witch, indeed.
keyou
Jun braced her hand along the cool stone of the buildings outer face, feeling a gentle summer breeze press along her burning flesh. She felt dizzy, almost euphoric. Her head was spinning, her mind swirling in desperate conflict from her encounter with Kazuya Mishima. Was this the monster everyone so hated and feared? Could he be the dastardly demon so capable of the intense cruelties the WWWC had accused him of?
There were more questions than answers. The uncertainties of her own empathic abilities left her emotions in a quandary. She had come to him with matters of great import and yet, as she listened to his mesmerizing litany, she wondered the validity of the very situation she had been sent to investigate.
Catching her breath, Jun felt like a little girl with a high school crush. Kazuya’s charm, his elegant demeanor, the very sight of him sent butterflies through her stomach.
And yet, in his hauntingly beautiful eyes, Jun thought she heard Kazuya’s soul calling to her. Blessed with the gift of empathic sight since the time she was a child, Jun could sense a dark chaos behind Kazuya’s eyes as if something was hovering over him...something evil and malicious, almost bloodthirsty. This shadow seemed to draw vital ‘Chi from Kazuya at a ravenous pace...and it had a “voice”. Jun thought she heard it when she first joined Kazuya for the meeting but perhaps she had only imagined a voice for his anguished soul.
Though, Jun did catch barely visible glimpses of stored memories from the CEO. She could make out the vision of an incredibly large man who seemed to bare a striking resemblance to Kazuya. A female as well. Were these Kazuya’s parents? Perhaps if she had the chance to speak with Kazuya at greater length, she could more clearly receive the transmission to decode the resonance of his sketchy repressed memories.
Walking off into the Tokyo street, Jun glanced once more upward, along the Mishima Corporate building, to the highest set of windows facing the throng of humanity. His office.
Jun Kazama was simply and quite passionately drunk on Kazuya Mishima.
yoban
Lee stood sentry in the doorway to the Executive office for several moments, unannounced. His delicate hands brushed lint from his black Christian Dior pants before thoughtlessly mimicking the motion to his light blue Chenille V-Neck sweater. Chaolan watched his step brother as he stood, motionless in the dark, his silhouette framed beside the expanse of windows overlooking the lively streets.
Kazuya had not moved from this place since Jun Kazama left.
This was intriguing to Lee Chaolans’ vigilante mind. Never in his life with his stepbrother had he ever seen him behave this way. Lee tried to speak with him as he arranged the fresh jasmine throughout the office. All to no avail. Kazuya appeared too deep in his thoughts or perhaps his admiration, Lee chided, to even acknowledge his presence.
Finally, Lee decided he was going to tempt the wrath of fates and antagonize his brother to break his eerie reverie. Any movement or emotion would be better than seeing Kazuya standing before the panes of glass, arms folded, still as a statue.
“Quite a nice ass on Miss Kazama, definitely a candidate for being bent over a table and taken from behind.” Lees lips drew up into an arrogant chuckle, a sinister part of his personality enjoyed tormenting the always self controlled CEO.
It seemed like an eternity, but the motion Kazuya made was no more than a chilling second in it’s duration.
Kazuya turned his strong chin to his shoulder, locking his blood red eyes on Chaolan. His face was aglow with the painted neon lights of sprawling Tokyo, but the inner flames of his gleaming eyes were in fact the red flames of hell.
Lee caught his breath against his lips. The malevolent gaze of his demon-brother sent a warning through his veins. Kazuya closed his eyes with a pained expression. Chaolan, lacking better judgement for worry of his brother advanced within the room. Instantly, the Demon eyes of his brother parted, emitting a lightening beam from within the glowing irises.
Lee fell back, stunned. Kazuya fell to one knee.
Clutching his ribs, Lee rolled shakily to his feet. The shock of his body absorbing the beam riveted through his blood. “Kazuya-sama...are you alright?” Lee braced himself along the antique rosewood desk before the expanse of windows.
Kazuya brought his left hand up as if to forbid Chaolan to move any further.
“Kazuya-san, please, are you alright?”
Kazuya slowly turned his head, opening his eyes to see his step brother. Lightening swirled within the abysmal depths of his eyes, as he forced all his strength to prevent the Demon from surging once again. Kazuya had spent hours fighting the Devil internally, barely able to move, locked in inner conflict. Over the past several days, the Demon was growing stronger and slowly out of Kazuya Mishimas’ control.
“Can you stand?” Lee asked, drawing himself around to where Kazuya knelt. Only silence rang through the dark office. Bringing himself to his knees before his step brother, Chaolan helped him to his feet.
“I will help you to distract him, Kazuya-sama. I will have just what you need awaiting us at the Mansion.” Draping his brothers arm over his shoulder, Lee steadied them both by placing his hand around Kazuya’s waist. With his free hand, he lifted the digital phone from his pocket.
“Yes, we are leaving the building, have my car brought around front. Dispatch the Limousine to retrieve some guests for our impromptu party. No mixes, make sure they are pure Japanese. I do not think my brothers high brow tastes will permit anything less.” Clicking the phone closed, Lee Chaolan walked bracing his brother to the awaiting Silver Honda S2000 below.
ishikai
Lee led Kazuya through the entrance of the Mishima Compound as the servant closed the door behind them. Walking through the East wing where both brothers had spent the majority of their lives, Lee could feel Kazuya waning in strength, relenting to painful tenseness with each additional step. His stepbrothers bought for control with his inner Demon were becoming more draining. Chaolan wondered when either entity would finally yield power to the other and be forever absorbed, lost to the mortal world for eternity.
Chaolan helped his stepbrother to a seat in the formal sitting room as he himself braced his hands along his thighs, bending at the waist to take a much needed breath. Drawing up to full stature once again, Lee strode to the mahogany bar along the far wall of the elegant room. In two crystal goblets he poured hefty sums of deep red, French Merlot. Withdrawing two vials from his pants pocket, Chaolan uncapped one, which appeared to be a prescription. With delicate fingers, Lee removed a single capsule, parting the halves to spill the powdery contents into one of the crystal goblets. Swirling the liquid with his finger, he took both goblets in hand, giving the tampered drink to his step brother.
Kazuya looked up at his step brother, beneath thick lashes, his voice harsh and untrusting. “What did you put in my drink, Lee?”
Lee leaned a shoulder against the wall. “Flexaril. It is a muscle relaxer I was prescribed for my shoulder injury. It will ease the tension on your body.”
Lee tossed an olive to the back of his mouth.
“Thank you.” Kazuya spoke almost humbled, draining his goblet.
One of the many house servants that bustled through the halls bowed at the Sitting room entrance before approaching the young Silver Haired master. With a nod, Chaolan dismissed her, a devious smile growing over his angelic face.
“Our guests have arrived, Kazuya-sama.”
“I am in no state to entertain this evening, Chaolan, or haven’t you noticed?” Kazuya felt the warm wave of prescription laced wine drop through his stomach.
“These guests are here to entertain us, Kazuya-sama, for quite a hefty price per hour.” Lee tossed back another olive before draining the remains of his Merlot.
“You are bringing streetwalkers into my home?” Kazuya shook his head, his angry fire quelched by the muscle relaxer. “Are you implying my inability...”
Lee stopped him abruptly with a disarming smile. “Listen to me Kazuya. We have known each other for most of our lives. I am not implying any kind of inability, nor am I questioning your desires. I simply wanted to party with my stepbrother, help you let off a little steam. When is the last time you had any fun?” Lee brought the goblets back to the bar, uncapping the light amber vial. With a slightly elongated pinky nail, Lee scooped a small dose of the powdery contents, spilling it along the antique bar top. Forming the powder into a thin line, Lee leaned down, pressing his fingertip to close off a nostril as his long silver bangs dipped forward like liquid moonlight along the bars’ finish. Inhaling hard, Lee moved his nose along the thin line. Jolting upright, Lee inhaled rigidly once more with a smile. “I mean really Kazuya, what could it hurt to have a beautiful Japanese woman, or two, on her knees to please you? Besides, they aren’t street walkers, they are rather expensive and beautiful Escorts.”
“My designs are too complex to waste my time on an abstract ideal as trivial as fun.”
Kazuya watched as his brother rolled his head back, shaking off the cocaine chemical drip as it rushed thickly down the back of his throat. For a brief moment Kazuya envied the intoxicating feeling coursing through Chaolans body from the thin line of fine powder. He remembered how powerful the white line made him feel, the scant times he had dabbled long ago when he was a boy coming of age, living on the streets of Tokyo. But in the lie of the line was false power, false happiness.
The servant showed the two exquisite Japanese females into the formal sitting room. For a moment Kazuya wondered why a playboy with the magnetic charm possessed by Chaolan would need with an escort. He had a volume of black books overflowing with names and numbers of the most beautiful women, all willing to make any arrangement necessary to spend a moment in Chaolans company. How differently both brothers, raised in the same home from the time they were young, turned out to be.
Lee greeted the two Escorts, placing his arms around their waists, as he approached Kazuya. “Allow me to present our company for the evening,” Lee smiled, tugging lightly at the waist of the female to his left, then to his right. “This is Hisa and Katsue. Ladies, this is my brother, Kazuya.”
Both females gave a smile and a coy wave as Kazuya looked them over, appraisingly. Chaolan did seem to know his taste. The female Hisa was nicely dressed with exceptionally long, dark hair and beautiful, nearly glowing skin and hazel eyes. Katsue was, in Kazuya’s eyes, nearly flawless. Nearly. She was wearing a silk summer dress with a matching 3/4 length Nauru style jacket. Her hair was a soft ebony, falling just a breath below her shoulders. But it was her eyes that caught Kazuya’s attention. Beautiful shaped almond eyes, deep brown framed beneath well manicured brows. For a moment as he looked into her eyes, he thought of Jun Kazama. Neither of these women, for all of their beauty, could compare with the exquisite, delicate, magnificence Miss Kazama.
Katsue moved forward from Lees’ embrace as Kazuya rose to a perfect stand from the couch. He refused to show the failing motions of his body from the medication Chaolan had given him earlier. Kazuya nodded to his step brother before walking almost arrogantly from the room. Wordlessly, Katsue followed him as he sought a place more..intimate.
tsuukai
Kazuya led the lovely Katsue into the dark quiet of his home office. Strips of moonlight shone through the large floor to ceiling stained glass windows, done in the decor of Feudal Japan. The room itself was austere, laced with ancient Japanese weaponry from the age of the Shogun and Samurai.
Kazuya sat in the high back leather executive chair, watching the shadows play across the young womans face. He could tell the girl was in the prime of her youth, perhaps 24...only 4 years younger than himself and yet, the pathways of fate had not been kind to her. Kazuya had seen too much of these travesties in the years he lived hand to mouth, off the streets. But these times helped make him a man, it had shown him the freedom that allowed him to forge his own destiny. Yet this girl, Katsue, undoubtedly an alias, looked as if she could have been bred from the finest families in Japan.
Uncomfortable in the dark quiet of the room, Katsue fidgeted before meeting the glint of Kazuya’s eyes. “Come here, Katsue.” His voice was low and silken, commanding.
The girl moved forward slowly till she stood before him, silhouetted by the huge windows. After a long moment beneath his appraising eyes, her dainty voice stammered. “H-How may I please you?”
Kazuyas’ brow arched as a wicked smile drew along his lips. “You may start...on your knees.”
kokain yuuyaku
Chaolan drew a line of fine powder along one of Hisa’s spread thighs, as she lay across the settee. She moaned while the edges of his silver bangs dripped forward onto her quivering flesh. Lee inhaled the powder deeply before licking and nipping at her skin.
Lee felt Hisa draw upward from her laying position. He parted his eyes, broken from the reverie of his chemical drip. “Where are you going, my dear?”
Lee studied her for a second before noticing the change in the girls’ expression. “What is the matter?”
Lee suddenly slumped forward, face first into the settee. A female voice from behind the unconscious Chaolan nearly purred to the unscathed call girl. “Get out, if you know what is good for you.”
Hisa rose instantly, pulling her skirt down. Looking back at Lee, she bit her lip and ran for her life.
fantaji/riariti
Kazuya’s head leaned back against the soft leather of the executive chair. His breath caught against his lips, enchanted under the skillful ministrations of the lovely Katsue. He watched her between half pleasure slit eyes as he whispered, “Look at me.”
Kazuya’s eyes held hers as his medically relaxed body quivered. He could barely see her as more than a shadow, except for her bright eyes. To his swirling vision, the eyes were not belonging to the call-girl Katsue, but rather, they became the eyes of the alluring EcoFighter, Jun Kazama.
Kazuya lost his breath as the thought of Jun crossed his mind, the idea translating itself into a fantasy. His eyes locked tightly closed as his head thrashed softly side to side against the leather chair. His nails dug into the arm rest. Kazuya could feel his lips wordlessly calling her name. Jun...Jun...
Jun....
The door to the home office burst open. The sudden flood of hallway light and noise forced Kazuyas’ eyes open, Katsue fell back onto the floor. Readjusting his precarious position, Kazuya cupped a hand over his eyes, shielding the light to allow him to see. The darkened shape of a woman greeted his shaded vision. He knew instantly who the calling card was from.
Nina raised the gun, firing into the darkness as Kazuya hit the floor. Dragging Katsue toward him, he pressed her slight body under his desk, shielding her with his own. He could hear and see Nina’s footsteps drawing closer as she advanced into the room, till she was standing just before the desk.
“I like this game. Come out, come out, wherever you are. Ahh, cowering on your knees under a desk, Mishima? What a wonderful final pose to prostrate yourself in, before you die.” Her thickly accented Irish voice chuckled as she sat herself on the lip of the desk, aiming the laser site of the gun just over it’s edge. “It is time to say goodnight, sweet prince.”
Kazuya felt his inner rage blazing like a fire through his blood. The girl, Katsue, screamed as the lightening swirling around Kazuya’s body burned against her flesh. With a cry echoing all the minions of hell, Kazuya’s body moved of its own volition, rising to a stand his dark majestic wings unfolded from behind him. With a motion so quick, Nina had only time to flinch as the devil knocked the gun from her hands.
“Some women will do anything for attention.” Devil-Kazuya hissed.
Nina pressed back several steps as the powerful beast jolted upright, drawing itself cross legged on the desk. The muscle relaxer had hampered the ability of the demon but it had also loosened Kazuya’s control to an alarming degree. A side effect neither he nor Chaolan could have anticipated.
“Come here, Nina, don’t you want a kiss?” The malevolent being chuckled before drawing to a stand atop the desk.
“My god, Kazuya...what in the bloody hell happened to you.”
The devil crossed its arms before its massive body. “God? Hardly. It is the next stage of evolution, silly girl. I am True Power, something you could not possibly understand. Now, don’t make me have to come down there and get you Nina, it will hurt so much more if I have to...”
Nina cocked an arrogant smile, rushing into one of her patent fighting moves, the Double Explosion. A whirlwind of hard pressed punches landed along the body of the demon as her double fists seemed to glow with power. As they connected, the impact knocked Devil from the desk onto the floor before the windows. Nina arrogantly cat walked along the edge of the desk, tracing her finger on the smooth antique finish. She stopped before the demon, looking down with a smile. “Kazuya...or whatever the hell you are, its time to say night, night.”
Nina raised her heel, connecting with the Demons chest as she dug into its’ hide cruelly. The demon grasped hold of Nina’s ankle, raising up with impossible power and speed, knocking the assassin off balance.
“What am I? I’m the Devil, you ignorant bitch.” the demon hissed, jerking Nina forward by her ankle, into a steel petal drop. Her head and shoulders broke through the stained glass window as Ninas body fell from the second story window, dragging Devil-Kazuya with it. Unable to sustain a great deal of strength and balance from overly loose muscles, the Demon released Nina’s ankle, mid fall, and glided on dark wings to the grass below. The assassin was laying on the ground before him as clawed feet connected to earth. Bent over in the fetal position, clutching her ribs, blood frothed from her pink lips. Her voice, ragged and breathless screamed, “This isn’t over Kazuya, not by a long shot.”
The Devil leaned down on its muscular haunches, a long yellowed talon traced itself vindictively into the flesh of her cheek, spilling blood tears from the torn flesh. “Oh but it is, Nina. I will just sit here and watch you choke to death on your own blood, it is inevitable you realize...at least two of your ribs are broken, perhaps we will be lucky enough that one of the two has punctured a lung. Ever watched someone choke to death on their own blood, Assassin? It is a beautiful symphony of screams within an Orchestra of pain....”
Devil closed his eyes, growling at a sudden pain that echoed in the back of his head. Rising to his feet, the demon walked along the grass, toward the corner wall of the Mishima Compound. Sinking down along his dark wings, the Devil came to a seat, his legs buckling forward against his scarred chest. “Damn you Kazuya why must you always spoil my fun? You owe me your life...for a second time.” Devils’ hands rushed into his hair, bracing against his horns. Tightening his grimace, the Demon fought to hang on.
“When are you going to learn....you...can’t...defeat...me...” Devil choked along his words as silver flashes of lightening encircled his form. With a blinding explosion, Kazuya’s head dropped forward along his knees. Gasping exhaustedly for his breath, he tried to stand, faltering. Bracing himself along the wall, Kazuya found his way to his den entrance on the east wing. It took all his strength to part the sliding doors. Stumbling into the dark room, Kazuya tripped over one of his cornerstone water gardens, crashing hard into the floor.
Within moments, Lee Chaolan stumbled into the room, his hand clutching the back of his head, turning on the light to find Kazuya laying face first on the carpeted floor. He rushed over to his step brother, flipping him over onto his back.
Kazuya’s eyes barely opened. From the clouded image, he could see the silver hair of Chaolan leaning over him, blood dripping like tears from his previously powdered nostril. He knew Lee was speaking by the movement of his lips though the sound was...distorted.
“What happened Kazuya, are you alright?”
Kazuya coughed, his arm rushing to his chest as blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. His body was drained and strained to the point he barely held onto consciousness. “Nina...we went out..the window. Devil...she..she is out..side, find out who...sent her...” Releasing his grip on reality, Kazuya slipped into the peaceful arms of blackness.
Lee rose up, retracing Kazuya’s staggering steps in the grass to where only the imprint of a body, impacting and laying along the ground had been. Stained glass, broken and glinting like jewels littered the earth beneath the shattered window. Nina was gone. What about Katsue?
Returning inside, he stepped over Kazuya to enter the long hallway. Looking up the staircase, Lee braced his hand on the railing, unsure if he could make the climb in his shaky condition. It was then, Chaolan heard the whimper.
Taking two steps at a time, he forced himself to stay focused on his climb. Katsue was crouched against the upstairs banner, her arms folded before her chest, shaking uncontrollably. Lee noticed the dark black burn marks on her silken arms and legs. He knew instantly. The lightening that streaked through Kazuya’s very essence had left its mark. The change to Devil must have been dramatically fast and intensely furious.
Lee leaned down, placing a hand on the girls head. “Are you alright?”
The girl stammered in shock. “He...He is the Devil. The Devil. We have to call the police!”
Lee braced her head with his hands, looking into her eyes. “Shhhhh, it is all going to be alright. We don’t need to call anyone, Katsue. There is no Devil....only God...see?” With a sudden snap of his hands, the girls neck cracked. Her death came mercifully, instantaneous. She slumped forward as Lee placed a soft kiss on the top of her tangled hair. “Send him my regards, I doubt I will ever get the chance to meet him face to face.”
Lee rose, lifting the compact digital phone from his pants pocket, bracing himself along the banister for support. “We have a mess on the east wing upper staircase. Another may or may not have escaped. Search the city, take the limo driver along for ID and then, take out the trash.”
Clicking the phone closed, Lee slowly made his way down the steps to the Den. Sitting himself down beside his unconscious step brother, he pat his hand against Kazuya’s chest. “Everything is taken care of. The clean up crew is on the way.” Lee knew Kazuya could not hear him but there was a comfort in telling him. Looking down half consciously, Chaolan thought he could see blood on his hands. Was it Lady MacBeth who said blood could never be cleaned from the hands? Slumping forward beside his brother, Lee relented his battle for sentience, yielding to the dark whim of Mistress Night.
fugiri
Paul Phoenix d. Armor Kingat the Helicopter Launch
Jack-2 d. Marshall Law at the Buddhist Shrine
Roger v. Jun Kazama scheduled this afternoon at the Man-made Tropical beach. Kazuya sat at his desk glancing over the written information Lee Chaolan had left him early this morning. Two fighters had advanced for the enormous purse promised to the winner of the Iron Fist Tournament, while two others fell to the way-side. Jun Kazama was scheduled this afternoon to take on Roger, the genetically enhanced Kangaroo of the Mishima Zaibatsu’s creation. Knowing the EcoFighters love of nature, Kazuya was sure that match would go over quite interestingly.
Rubbing his eyes with the insides of his index fingers, Kazuya contemplated taking a sip of his steaming cup of imported green tea. Still regaining his strength from the past 24hours, he was nearly thankful his match against the skilled supercop Lei Wulong would not be until the day after tomorrow. He would need the time to recover to face such a worthy Chinese Master.
Lee Chaolan chimed in on the intercom, his voice unusually calm. “Mishima-sama, I have two homicide detectives from the Tokyo police here to speak with you.”
Kazuya’s brow instantly arched. This was not the kind of press he needed. “Send them in, Chaolan.”
Lee opened the large double doors for the badge wearing detectives, his eyes lingering on his step brother, worriedly. The two detectives entered, glancing around the elaborate office of the CEO. Chaolan joined them, closing the door before taking a position behind Kazuya’s right shoulder, cupping his hands behind the small of his back.
Kazuya rose, shaking the hand of his soon to be opponent, Lei Wulong and his associate, introduced as Detective Masato Fuschida. “Please gentlemen, won’t you take a seat.”
Lei Wulong and his partner rigidly lowered themselves into the leather chairs facing the CEO’s desk. “Thank you, Dono Mishima. We understand your time is rather precious so we will make this quick.”
“Of course, Detective Wulong. How may I help you?” Kazuya interlaced his hands before his chin, the joined tips of his forefingers pressing before his lips.
“We are here to investigate the disappearances of two...escorts, reportably picked up last evening by a black limousine owned by the Mishima Zaibatsu. Let me begin by asking you where you were last evening, Dono Mishima?” Lei flipped open his leather bound palm sized writing pad. Leaning back, the detective smoothed his long pony tail to hang over the leather seat.
“I was home all last evening with my associate, Lee Chaolan, sparring in my dojo..”
“By your associate, you are referring to your step brother, Mishima-sama?” Lei almost seemed to smile.
Kazuya nodded. “Of course.”
“And where you both home, alone?” Lei was scribbling as he spoke.
“With the exception of my servants, yes.” Kazuya watched the detective intensely. You realize the lovely Miss Kazama is no doubt aware of our little transgressions last evening. You surely espy that the good Detective Wulong must have taken great pride in telling her during the brief respite of sweat soaked sheets.... The demon laughed, echoing through Kazuya’s mind.
“Dono Mishima, please answer the question.” Lei leaned forward, observing the CEO.
“Forgive me Detective Wulong, I am afraid I did not hear you.”
“Please pay attention Dono Mishima, this investigation is quite serious and could no doubt dampen the public image of your Corporation. We must get the facts straight and set this matter to rest. Now, the question was, can you explain the whereabouts last evening of the limousine which was reported picking up these two escorts?”
“I am afraid I can not explain the whereabouts of a singular limousine, my company employs several of these vehicles. My step brother and I both rode to my home in his car last evening. I am sure you can confirm that with our Valet.”
“I already have.” Lei stated matter-of-factly.
Kazuya leaned forward slightly. “Have you spoken with the Company garage or Limo driver, Detective, perhaps either of those sources can better answer your questions.”
“I have spoken with the garage, they confirmed the limo in question was removed from it’s parking slip at approximately 6:30pm, last evening, and did not return until roughly 4am. The Escort agency filed two missing persons reports this morning and the driver of the limo who signed for the release last evening, one Etsuya Maaki, has been unable to be reached for questioning.”
“If this is a missing persons investigation, Detective Wulong, might I ask why the Homicide unit has been deployed?” Kazuya took a sip of his green tea as Wulong observed him carefully. “Can I have either of you brought a cup of tea?”
“No thank you Dono Mishima.” Lei half smiled, returning his pen to paper. Detective Fuschida declined as well. “To answer your question, we have reason to suspect foul play in the disappearances, as is common in that line of work.”
“I see.” Kazuya nodded.
“I would like your permission to search your residence, Dono Mishima. I can obtain a court order, should you decline.”
“That will not be necessary, Detective Wulong, you have my permission to search the premises of my home to aid in your investigation.” Kazuya stone set his eyes on the supercop.
We have come so far, Kazuya, what a shame to be halted now, by this dishonorable scandal. Tisk...Tisk...Tisk...
“There is just one last thing, Dono Mishima and then we will leave you to your busy schedule. Do you know a young woman by the name of Michelle Chang?”
Kazuya arched a dark brow. “Of course, the young lady was a challenger in the competition my company is hosting. She did not advance, or so I am to understand.”
“Off the record, Dono Mishima, Michelle Chang has previously filed a kidnapping report with the Tokyo Police against the Mishima Zaibatsu. Where you aware of this?”
“Would this be a separate charge all together, Detective?” His arrogance ebbed through each pore in his stone set face.
Lei frowned, raising a brow. “Thank you for your time. We will be in touch.” He stood, turning his back to Kazuya’s extended hand. Detective Fuschida, previously silent, accepted the outstretched pleasantry of the CEO before following his partner and closing the door behind them.
Kazuya turned, glancing from the floor-to-ceiling windows, to his step brother, Lee Chaolan. After several long moments, Lee addressed the silent CEO. “They will not find the bodies of the escorts, nor the driver. I have placed his name on a flight out of the country. The servents will not speak for fear of their own mortality. Everything is well under control....”
The crackling twin piston fists of Kazuya Mishima knocked Chaolan straight onto the ground, clutching his jaw. “The situation is NOT under control Chaolan. You have placed a great dishonor on my name with your own bloody hands. I did not ask to be party to your games last evening and now you have brought the police sniffing at my door.” Kazuya grasped Lee by the throat as he spoke, pressing him against the expansive windows. Trickles of blood seeped from Chaolans raw nostril as his hands clutched the wrists of his enraged brother. Gasping for air, Kazuya threw Lee over the desk, landing hard onto the ground. His eyes coursing with streaks of electricity. “Now get out before I bloody my hands with your death, you worthless fool!”
Lee drew himself up, staggering to the door without looking back.
Kazuya picked up the phone, paging one of his henchmen. “Yes, I want Lei Wulong followed, carefully. Call in his whereabouts on my secured digital line. Create whatever diversion is necessary to prevent him from getting to the beach this afternoon. I have business to take care of.”
Hanging the phone with a bang, Kazuya took a deep breath. You should have killed that little silver haired shit when you had the chance. But, there is time. There is always time for us, Kazuya. Now run along to find Miss Kazama, before her sheets get...cold....
Hissing, Kazuya turned, slamming his crackling hand into the window. The pane of glass buckled, bowing outward before shattering into a thousand pieces, setting off a chain reaction through every panel along the wall.
kokuei
Lee Chaolan walked from the locker room to the padded floor of the dojo on the top level the Mishima Zaibatsu. This large room was set aside for any of the staff who wished to spar off the frustrations of the day, compliments of The Corporation. It should have been his corporation, all of it. But he was not a Mishima, no matter what promises his adopted father made before he sent Lee away to school in the United States to study business administration. Kazuya was gone then, having taken off in the middle of the night, unable to be found and never to be seen again. Until he returned for the King of the Iron Fist tournament, just a few years ago.
Stretching his muscles, rigorously, the sting of Kazuyas hatred still vibrated through his bones. After all he had done to protect his brother, this was how he was treated. No matter what he did, Lee was still the adopted son, adopted brother, a Korean orphan promised the world by a tired old man. He was just a weapon Heihachi could use against his obstinate young son, a prince with no thrown ever to be claimed.
Sniffing back a powdered line, Lee slid his gloves onto his delicate hands. With the chemical still dripping down the back of his throat, Lee fell into his stance. All he could see was Kazuya’s face and the taste of self pity, more bitter than the cocaine. He was Ninjitsu for Christ-sake, a Hitman, yet beneath the power of the Devil he felt like nothing more than second rate punching bag.
Whirling himself into a series of frenzied Shaolin spin kicks and left jab rushes, Lee frenzied against an invisible opponent. Executing a perfect laser edge kick combination, Lee stopped to draw in a breath.
The sound of clapping filled the empty dojo. Looking up beneath jagged silver bangs, Lee released his bent rested position of hands against his thighs and fell once more into stance. “Who’s there?”
“Bravo. Excellent maneuvering.....my son.” Birthed from the shadows at the far end of the dojo, a long robbed figure emerged. Thick hands drew back the hood to reveal a weathered, leathery face with erratic gray hair, held upwards over his ears like horns. Heihachi Mishima, his step father.
“Perfectly executed. I would expect nothing less from you, my boy.” Heihachi stepped forward exuding the arrogance of the Mishima bloodline, for all his darkness Kazuya could only cheaply imitate it in comparison to his father.
“Your dead. I saw Kazuya throw you over that cliff.” Lee wiped a blood tear from his nose. “This shit must be laced....”
“Not a wise choice to be stuffing your nose with that powder, boy, you have far more self worth than that.” His tone was fatherly, in it’s own way. “But I assure you, my son, I am quite real.”
“How...How is it possible.” Lee stammered, unsure if he should strike a blow....or not....
“I am far more resourceful than either you or Kazuya might have imagined. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.” Heihachi smirked, raising an aged brow as he folded his massive arms, the black robe sent careening over his shoulders like a cloak. “Is this how you greet your Father, Lee, in stance?” Even at 53 years of age, the former King of the Iron Fist was still an impressive specimen to behold.
Lee did not alter his position, even a breath. “You are here for him, aren’t you?”
Heihachi slowly approached his adopted son. “I am here to reclaim what is mine. My company, my title and all my former glory. I once made you promises, Lee, long ago before you left for the United States. Do you remember them?” The old man drew closer still, unafraid.
Lee nodded.
“I can still give it all to you, son. Everything I promised.”
“What price are you asking in exchange for all of these long ago promises, Father. Kazuya’s head on a silver platter?” Lee tightened his gloved fists as Heihachi stood a few feet from him.
“I would never ask such a thing, Lee. I would much rather do that myself. But I need your help. I need you to put me into the Tournament, cloaked. I must have the element of surprise, I can not give Kazuya enough time to prepare for my return. His hatred is a powerful thing. As is mine.” Heihachi smiled wickedly, electricity coursing along his muscular form.
Lees eyes locked tightly onto Heihachi’s.
“I see you are bruised, my son. Tell me, is Kazuya still making you take penance for sharing my home?” Heihachi stepped closer. Lee held his stance as Heihachi’s hand reached forward, grasping his chin lightly. “Yes, I can see you have taken many unnecessary lashings, for reasons I do not quite understand. You must seize your power, while you have still have some left.” Heihachi dropped his hand from Lee’s chin. He could see the gravity of his words echoing through Chaolans eyes.
Then, as Heihachi expected, it happened. Lee dropped his fighting stance.
“Now the question remains Lee, will you help your father?”
Lee looked down, nodding his head an almost sorrowful, yet blood thirsty “yes”.
Heihachi lifted Lees chin once more. “You must always meet the eyes of another man, no matter who he is. To avert the eyes is to show submission. No son of mine will show weakness.”
Lee raised his eyes as Heihachi stepped back, holding his gaze. Returning his hooded robe over his shoulders, Heihachi pressed backward until shadows swallowed the old man and Lee could no longer see him.
Rushing forward, Lee called out. “Father....”
The motions came too late, Heihachi Mishima was gone.
nanikanitsukete
The driver opened the limo door, letting Kazuya out. Rebuttoning his Armani suit jacket, Kazuya lowered his sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose. Jun Kazama was locked in battle against the genetically enhanced, boxing Kangaroo, Roger. She blocked excessively, as if scared to strike at the animal. The onslaught continued, Roger kicked and punched with fever, finally landing a serious combination, connecting with Juns sternum. She fell back with a scream.
Kazuya readjusted his position, returning his glasses over his eyes and leaning his hip against the body of the limo. A part of him instantly wanted to rush into the battle like some valiant, misunderstood hero. But he knew he could not tamper with the rules of the Iron Fist.
Jun raised up, her dark eyes firmly set on ending this match. With a perfect execution of the White Heron Technique, Roger fell to the floor. The judge raised Jun’s hand, though Kazuya watched as she broke herself away instantly, kneeling beside her opponent. Softly she stroked the edge of Rogers nose. The gloved Kangaroo opened his eyes, blinking rapidly, seemingly unsure of how to react at her touch.
Cautiously Roger sat up, dazzled by Juns’ sunlit smile. In an uncharacteristic motion from the genetic abomination, Roger set his head in the wealth of Juns lap.
Quite touching, her way with mindless beasts. Imagine the wonders she could do for you....
Kazuya cast his glance down. His secured line was ringing. Lifting the digital phone, he heard the voice of one of his henchmen on the other end.
“Wulong must be on his way. We lost him. The Compound is clean. Supercop found nothing.”
Kazuya clipped the phone closed. Looking up, he saw Jun wave from a distance. Crossing his arms before his chest, his heart skipped a beat. Kazuya watched her bow to Roger, offering the animal a goodbye motion of her hand. She approached, dressed casual to allow fluidity of motion for the competition, yet the formfitting denim daisy dukes with light blue thigh highs and a cut off sleeve denim button down shirt, tied off at the midriff gave the CEO quite a tantalizing view.
As she drew closer, Jun flashed Kazuya a brilliant smile, cupping her hand over her eyes to shield the delicate orbs from the caustic mid day sun. “To what pleasure do I owe a visit from the King of the Iron Fist?”
“Impressive Victory, you are quite a skilled fighter. I could say I am here studying the competition for my title, but then I would be lying Miss Kazama. Truth be told, I was intrigued by our previous conversation and thought I would avoid a game of excessive phone tag by asking you more directly when you are free to pick up where we left off.” Kazuya lowered his designer sunglasses, looking freely into her eyes, drowning himself in their dark depths.
“Well, if I do not sound too forward, I am free, now.”
Kazuya smiled, genuinely. “In that case, would you care to accompany me for a late lunch at my compound, Miss Kazama.”
“A compound? I’ve never quite known anyone who owned a ‘compound’ before.” She smiled almost...teasingly. “And please, call me Jun, there is no need to be so stuffy on a day as beautiful as today...” As Jun spoke, her eyes turned along the distance as if following an object in motion.
Kazuya turned, glancing over his shoulder. A white Toyota was along the back road to the beach. With fancy maneuvering the car managed to avoid the long black limousine, coming to a short stop...bumper to bumper. The drivers door opened and out stepped an pony tail-free, Lei Wulong.
The cop stepped toward the two, brushing a hand through his incredibly long, wind whipped hair, his hand resting comfortably, palm down on the holster of the gun at his hip. His eyes never left the suave, young Mishima as he approached. Jun seemed oblivious to the rising temperature and testosterone as the distance was closed between them.
“I was wondering what happened to you.” Jun smiled, her delicate hand bracing his shoulder.
Lei nodded first in the direction of Kazuya. “Mishima-sama.” Then, turning his attention to Jun, continued. “I had some business to take care of. Criminals never sleep. Neither does the Tokyo police.” Lei shot a cleverly concealed side glance to a sinisterly smiling Kazuya. “Now that you have made it to the semi finals, like I knew you would...” Lei smiled, dripping with charm. “..shall we pick up Baek and Michelle for some lunch?”
Jun bit her lip softly, her fingertips untangling long stands of Lei Wulongs jet black hair from beneath the gun holsters he wore over his shirt. “Oh, Lei, I can’t, forgive me. I have already made plans with...” Jun looked over her shoulder with a smile. “..with Kazuya.”
Now the suave smile was replaced by the silent smirk of masculine victory. Jun continued, “I am so glad you came out to see my victory, I am sorry you missed the match. I really would like to know how someone taught an innocent creature like that to box with gloves on!”
Lei had the look of someone who could have spilled the beans all over the floor to be tripped on. But discretion was always a better part of valor for an honorable man. “Quite odd indeed, Jun.” Lei smiled, brushing his taloused hair back as the breeze picked up. “I am sorry I could not get here sooner, though I expect there are...reasons...for everything. Karma is a touchy thing though, wouldn’t you agree...Kazuya.” Lei made sure to overly emphasize the young Mishima’s name.
“Absolutely, Detective Wulong.” Kazuya slid his hip from the side of the limousine, awaiting Jun to enter first, as the driver opened the door.
“We will meet up later though Jun?” His smile was a mask, held intact only by the light in her beautiful eyes. “You can relate to me the details of your advancement today.”
“That would be perfect. Can I page you once our business is concluded?”
Kazuya narrowed his eyes, hidden beneath his sunglasses, the favor tipped from his innuendoed predominance, spilling over to Wulong. Lei seemed to nearly burst at the mention of “business”.
“Sure, we will meet up then.”
Jun turned, heading toward the limousine. Lei called out to her, “Oh and Jun, be careful.”
Kazuya helped Jun into the limo before smiling wickedly to the little puppy dog, watching her go almost achingly. “Afternoon Detective, you be careful out on the streets. Our match is only 36 hours away.”
“I could say the same for you, Dono Mishima. Good day.” Lei slid into his car as Kazuya joined Jun in the limo. Kicking up a cloud of sand as the tires spun, the CEO slowly adjusted his sunglasses.
Now let the games...begin....
taseki tsukiataru
The driver opened the door, offering a gloved hand to assist Miss Kazama from the limo. Kazuya stepped out behind her, rebuttoning his suit jacket. “Please Jun, follow me.”
Jun was nearly slack jawed at the expansive exterior the “Compound.” His home was a virtual mansion with land as far as her eyes could discern. Somewhere to the distance there seemed to be a separate stone standing Dojo and a personal ancestral shrine to long forgotten gods. The gardens surrounded the sides of the Mansion, no doubt extending all the way behind the facade. Juns normal reaction would been of distaste for such a vulgar display of wealth and yet, all she could feel was awe. This mansion seemed to be a very part of the young CEO, the bricks and stones reverberated the laughter of children, the innocence of youth. Suddenly, Jun wrapped her hands around her shoulders. The most foreboding feeling, just over the distant ridge of green land toward the lifeless cliffs. The images flooded past her like ghosts begging to be seen. A boy, tumbling head over heels from the rocky trenches on the edge of the Compound, terrified screams...blood.
Jun shook her mind free of the visions but they would not stop assaulting her. She could sense misery and neglect...abuse..all around her, though she veiled her revulsion from Kazuya. The heart of this house was black.
The interior was warm and austere, almost to the point of complete discipline. Kazuya led her through the tour of the immense number of rooms in the fore and east wing.
“A house separated by ‘wings’”, Jun smiled in lieu of the abundant and tasteful opulence. “is the west wing as beautiful?”
“I would take you through there, but I have had it sealed. My deceased father and mother once occupied the west wing. It is where I was born. Since my Mothers passing, I have never trespassed through the halls, it was entirely the domain of my father.”
“I am so terribly sorry for your loss, Kazuya.” she could almost taste his pain, like aged wine.
“My mothers passing was truly a loss for me. She was the most vibrant and beautiful woman. So wise, so patient. I only wish I would have known her for more of my life than I was permitted.” Kazuya turned before the ornately framed windows in the formal dining room. Jun could see his reflection in the pristine glass. Blinking her eyes rapidly, another image occupied the window with him. White wings. Almost iridescent, radiant...a face that looked nothing like Kazuya, yet, Jun knew the Angel instantly. Her voice seemed to speak through her mind. Kazumi Mishima.
“Are you alright, Jun?” Kazuya wanted to reach out to her but fought the urge to be too forward. “You look pale...”
“I am probably going to kick myself for asking such a personal question, but, was your mothers name Kazumi?” Jun bit the side of her lip softly.
A mix of pain and invasion slid through Kazuya and for once, the Demon was quite. “Yes.”
“I can feel her all around you. She loved you so deeply that she guards you, as only a mother can.”
“How do you know this?” Kazuya narrowed his eyes, untrustingly. His love for his mother was a closely guarded image that he let no one privilege to. Not even his father, when he was alive. He had learned never to mention mothers’ name, once she passed on, without feeling the cold bite of Heihachi’s back hand and learned to adore her, secretly.
“Since the time I was little, I have been able to...see things...hear things and know things for a reason I can’t explain. I can see the resonance of love that she had for you. There is no love more beautiful, defying all the boundaries of life and death, as a Mothers love for her son.. forgive me, Kazuya. I am impertinent to tread on such personal ground.”
Kazuya turned, studying his reflection in the flawless window. Not realizing he could be seen, his hand raised to wipe away a soft tear. Jun felt her heart draw out to this man, as if for all the darkness she could feel hovering over him, she could pull him from this horrible and painful chasm.
Without turning, Kazuya asked, “Shall I have lunch served?”
Finding the idea of changing the subject to be exactly what she desired, Jun tried to smile, studying him from behind with a sense of sudden longing to comfort him. “That would be perfect....”
The chef at the Mishima compound must have been smuggled away from a five star restaurant, Jun considered, as she dined on the most lavish spread. Her lips enclosed upon the most succulent and ungodly expensive varieties of sushi with feather slices of ginger, held by platinum utensils as they dined upon engraved plates. For a time they steered from personal conversation to trivial small talk of the weather and the state of affairs within the world. Jun had no desire to debate with her host on the allegations of the WWWC. For a moment, she was just a woman and he, just a man, enjoying one anothers company.
Jun grew silent as she gazed out of the ornate windows, to the manicured gardens just past the glass restriction. The flow of the breeze danced with the petals of flowers almost intimately.
“Jun...Jun?..” Kazuya smiled as her eyes drifted back to his. “Would you like to take a walk through my gardens?”
“Oh, no, Kazuya, I have already made myself quite a burden. I am still in awe that your chef has gone to such trouble...”
“It is no trouble at all. They hardly have a chance to prepare dinner for me, my hours at work are far too long to keep them waiting. I am sure it is a relief to finally be able to use their culinary skills before they develop dust. I will make sure to give the chef your compliments. She will greatly appreciate your kindness.” Kazuya rose, taking a sip of sake. Jun followed suit, afraid she had overstayed her welcome. Kazuya was a man of few words, she had discovered, and he seemed to prefer to let her prattle on about the nonsense of life.
“Forgive me, you have been such a gracious host and I fear I have overstayed my welcome. We have dined and I have not even brought up our business at hand.”
“Shhhh....” Kazuya said softly, intent on destroying any resolve to discuss the allegations of the WWWC. “Please, accompany me to the garden.”
Jun smiled and followed him without hesitation.
The warm sunlight felt so good on her flesh, revitalizing. The wind slowly whispered a game of cat and mouse to her as she walked with Kazuya through the immense surrounding foliage. A mini habitat of creatures seemed to coexist here, as if Jun had entered the gates to the garden of Eden.
Dropping down to the grass, her lips drew into a smile. Kazuya stopped, watching this dainty creature bask in the sunlight...removing her shoes and stockings. Standing once more, her bare feet caressing the grass, she was as alight as a playful child. Kazuya could not help admiring her sensual shape and the strength of her inner light.
Her hands touched his face, and it was all he could do to avoid melting against her. Jun removed Kazuyas sunglasses, clipping them along the dip in her blouse, the slight weight of them forcing down along the buttons of her shirt, exposing just an inch more of her fair flesh. Kazuya squinted his eyes as they adjusted to the yellow rays of the sun.
“Here I am, worshipful of natures abundance. There you are, looking alien among the living earth around you. I see your eyes hurt, would you like these...” Jun studied the inscription on the inside of the sunglasses arm. “..these Gucci glasses? If you do, you will have to come get them!” With a gleeful laugh, Jun took to a run, along the grass, glancing back through tendrils of her hair as her mane whipped along behind her. Kazuya shook his head with an exasperated sigh....and started to run after her.
Kazuya kept her in sight as she darted like an impala over bush and brush, careful not to stomp on a single flower with her small feet. His fingertips nearly caught the edge of her hand, but Jun cornered at the last moment and Kazuya, stopping for a pant of air, cursed his Italian loafers.
“God damn it” he resigned, calculatingly. Removing his Gucci shoes and socks, Kazuya returned to pace, looking all round for the little, playful thief.
“Over here” she tormented, some distance away. Wiping his brow with the arm of his suit jacket, Kazuya hissed at his lack of heat tolerance. Stripping the Armani jacket to reveal the black formfitting silk T shirt beneath, he continued the chase. Forcing his body to move faster, he could feel the beat of his bare feet to the earth, the strength of his muscles as he worked them in a way he had not done since he was a boy.
Finally, it seemed the Impala had no brush left to leap. Jun feigned right, Kazuya followed. She feigned left...He was unshakable. With a springing motion, Kazuya lunged, his strong muscular arms encircling her and bringing her to the ground. His forearms taking the impact for her. Panting for breath, Kazuya reached his hand around, unplucking the sunglasses from the cleavage of her blouse...taking a button with it.
“I believe these...are mine.” he panted, his eyes connecting with hers, a scant breath barely able to pass between them. Slowly, Jun lifted her head, her almond eyes lowering as her dark lashes entwined....her lips kissed his. Kazuya closed his eyes, his own lips drawn irresistibly into meeting hers. Juns delicate hands reached into hair as her lips parted beneath his, the edge of her tongue tasting the forbidden nectar of his mouth. Her blood slowly became molten fire as his tongue found hers, caressing the soft insides of her mouth, his arms held behind her, lifted her till she was kneeling with him on the grass.
As if his kiss were an endless glass of summer wine, Jun lingered every moment to drown herself in the taste of him. Kazuya drank from her sweet pollen lips as if he were afraid their parting would leave him unable to ever again draw a breath. For moments that seemed like seconds, Jun and Kazuya lost themselves in the essence of one another, as if nothing could ever break them apart.
“Ahem.” Came the voice Kazuya least wanted to hear at such a sweet and passionate moment. “I believe these belong...to you...and you.” Chaolan tossed errant shoes and other sundries onto the grass beside them. Kazuya leaned back against his bare feet, glancing up with hatefulness to the intruder. Jun smoothed a hand through her grass filled hair, flushed and gently quivering.
“This visit is quite unexpected. Why are you here and who let you in. I will have them fired.” Kazuya nearly hissed.
“Well I returned to the office after a very...insightful workout in the dojo, upstairs and I noticed you had not returned to the Zaibatsu. I thought to myself, ‘How unlike Kazuya to leave for lunch, let alone fail to return some....4hours later. So I decided to take a ride over here...”
“You could have called.” Kazuya looked up through his arched brows.
Lee continued. “Wondering as to your safety, I thought I would take a ride over here, and viola, the trail of shed clothing led me directly to you...both.”
Jun cleared her throat, embarrassed at having been caught like naughty children.
“Jun Kazama, I believe you have met my STEPBROTHER, Lee Chaolan.” The silver devil nodded with an angelic smile. Jun nodded. “yes, Dono Chaolan, a pleasure to see you again.”
“A pleasure in seeing so much of you, Miss Kazama. I will leave the both of you in peace, now that I see my dear brother is in fact well. Good day, Miss Kazama.”
Lee turned on his heel, his lips cast in a wicked, vindictive smile.
Kazuya exhaled sharply, brushing his hair back with his hand. “Forgive me for my stepbrother, he is in desperate need of an attitude adjustment.”
Jun bit her lip softly, her face flushed. “He seems to have a great deal of both love and hatred for you, he wears his pain like a badge of honor....”
Kazuya turned his deep eyes to her, wondering if somewhere inside, Jun would prefer to be spending the afternoon with a gentleman who had his angelic features. In looks, Kazuya knew he was no match against Chaolan.
“How completely...awkward..” Kazuya rolled up onto his haunches in a singular powerful movement, his hands resting against the ground between his legs.
Jun smiled, looking down before meeting his eyes. With her own hard drawn breath, she stood, brushing grass from her shorts. Kazuya rose as well, tucking his socks into his Italian loafers, lifting them by the heel. “I understand if you wish to rejoin your friends for the evening, there is a phone in the fore from which you may call Wulong. He is quite familiar with the directions to the Compound.” Kazuya resigned that his fingertips had lost grasp of Heavens bliss.
Jun drew toward him, silent for a moment as her hand gently traced along the neckline of his black silk shirt. Moistening her lips softly, her eyes held his gaze. “I would prefer to stay, if you do not mind having me here, with you....” Juns hand fell from his shirt, into his grasp.
“Jun, I know you think you know me....” He looked away from her, closing his eyes.
“I know what your eyes tell me, Kazuya Mishima. For me, that is enough. Now, I am intrigued for you to show me the dojo I spied just down the path from here. Will you.”
Kazuya turned his head slowly, his eyes lingering on her dainty hand clasped within his. “Of course....”
dojo
Jun walked along the expanse of the dojo as Kazuya lit the torches which lined the ancient stone walls. The smell of damp mold and sulfur hung cloy in the air, reminding Kazuya of his heritage and his youth held within these walls.
“Is this where your father taught you his art, Kazuya?” Juns fingertips traced along the ancient stone guardians carved into the wall.
The question was a painful revival of memories, of long hours spent under the stern, cruel hand of his father, the repetitions of Katas and movements done with screaming muscles, until staying conscious was all the young Mishima could focus upon. Heihachi spread no rod on his son. Many nights, Kazuya would stumble to his room, nursing bruises and sprains. The young Mishima was forced to forgo a normal childhood of school dances and first dates, all for his fathers demand to learn his art. Eventually, Mishima Style Karate became Kazuya’s only love, only solace...a system of movements and combinations that would never judge him or let him down.
After hesitating for long moments on the ruins of memories, Kazuya turned to Jun, uttering a simple statement. “Yes.”
“This room place is so rich with emotion, it is like a key into your very heart.” Jun cupped her hands before her as the shadows along the walls played across her radiant visage.
“Would you like to spar a bit with me?” Kazuya felt her eyes on him.
“I would love to....”
“I think I may have an old gi of mine you could use, if you like, let me check the inner room.” Kazuya walked off to the adjoining room, through the cuts in the walls, within the range of the torches. A moment later, he returned with a white pair of gi pants, embroidered with lightening along the left leg, a black belt and a white tank top. In the opposite hand, Kazuya had his red gloves and worn white gi pants for himself.
“These are very old, but they are clean. I do not think I have worn these since I was perhaps...16. If you like, you can change at the house, I will wait here for you.”
Jun gently took the gi from Kazuya with a smile. “I can just change over there, that will leave us more time to play.” Walking toward the area Kazuya had previously come from, Jun changed her clothing. Kazuya took the chance to strip as well, feeling the well worn white pants slip on with comfortable ease. Leaning his back against the wall, one leg bent along the surface, Kazuya fastened his gloves.
The flickering torch light flashed along Kazuya’s muscular upper body. A thin sheen of sweat from the over bearing warmth of the dojo developed along the curves of his chest. Jun was standing just outside of the ring of shadows, admiring him. She shuffled her feet as she moved closer, drawing his dark eyes to her form. Jun was simply breathtaking in the simple white uniform. There was something almost territorial about seeing her in HIS old white gi, noticing the tender caress of the tank top tucked into the pants, the black belt drawn overly tight around her waist to compensate the difference in their girths.
“What happened to your chest?” Jun noticed the massive scar, marring his perfect physique. It seemed to glow in the torch light as if it were a portal to another world.
“When I was young I had an accident. Now....” avoiding the topic, cleverly, Kazuya continued. “Shall we stretch?”
Jun nodded, unsatisfied with his answer. Kazuya lit the remaining torches and the candles that lined the corners of the dojo like prayers lit within a shrine, making the room warmer but more appropriately lit. Both opponents stretched for several moments, working the muscles till thin trickles of sweat began to bead down from their respective foreheads.
Bowing to one another in tradition and respect, both Jun and Kazuya assumed their stances. Jun leapt into a reverse cartwheel, before falling to one knee and spinning at Kazuya’s legs. Guarding, Kazuya drew himself back. Jun smiled, using the white heron technique, forcing her opponent to land on his hind. With one leg swinging upward, Jun uttered her spirit should, cut off abruptly by Kazuya’s reversal, drawing her to the floor. For nearly an hour, the two sparred back and forth, each testing the other, enjoying the adrenaline rush. Kazuya held back a good portion of his moves, afraid to give away the secrets of his combos and at the same time, not wishing to harm a hair on the beautiful Jun Kazama’s head.
Jun used one of her favorite throw techniques, landing Kazuya on the floor with an arm bar. Kazuya sprang up, sending Jun back into the wall with a dull thud, following behind. Pressing both gloved hands to her wrists, he pinned them upward along the wall over her head as she fought to regain her breath from the impact. “Do you yield?” His smile was dripping with venomous, and yet...erotic arrogance. Her almond eyes held his as they reflected the variable light within the room, nearly seeming to glow with an inner an almost demonic force. Kazuya was drawing in bated breaths, enraptured with the thrill of the fight...the victory of the hunt.
Jun arched her chin, adjusting her spine along the wall, her wrists wriggling within his gloved hands. Kazuya tightened the hold, as Jun released a soft, quivering breath. “Do you yield?” his voice was more lower, more commanding and dripping like silk along a nude body.
“Yesss...” Jun moaned, arching her hips against him. Kazuya pressed his forward, meeting her aching thrust but did not release her. His lips descended, claiming hers with a sense of intense hunger. A hunger she echoed with the returned force of her kiss. Wrapping an ankle around his strong calves, Jun sought to draw his body closer, till she could feel the delicious pressure of his strength against her.