*
hyaikyo
Kazuya leaned down, resting his weight along his haunches as the four shower jets, mounted two units to either side of the wall, hit him full force. The strength of the water felt incredible, his body absorbed the pressure as his lungs filled with shower room steam. There was perhaps no better feeling than to languish in a sauna of steaming torrential downpour and allowing the muscles a chance to unwind after a long and severe battle. His opponent had been a worthy competitor within the ring and outside of it. Lei Wulong had hounded him for the entirety of the two years he had been in control of the Zaibatsu, waiting for the chance to corner the CEO on a variety of interesting charges he could have levied, if he knew where to look. Once Jun came into the picture, the already heated rivalry became a matter of territorial pissings. It was apparent Lei Wulong had not indulged in the intimate pleasure of Miss Kazama. Another round won to Kazuya.
Slowly rolling himself to a stand, Kazuya stretched his arms high above his head, feeling his spine slowly realign itself, easing the tension. Reaching for his lather, Kazuya slowly went to the arduous task of straight razor shaving. Although a disposable or even electric razor might have been faster, no other method gave him the smoothest, softest skin as a well lathered straight shave.
Lifting a handful of steaming water to his face, Kazuya let a relieved sigh pass his lips. Turning slowly to brace his arms across the shower walls in Jesus Christ pose, Kazuya rinsed the remainder of cocoa butter soap from his body, letting the strong scent of his tea tree shampoo rejuvenate his energy before rinsing of that as well.
Stepping out onto the cashmere bath rug, strewn along the Italian marble bathroom floor, Kazuya reached for one of his embroidered towels, drying his slightly bruised and aching body of the heated droplets of water writhing along his flesh. Drawing his black silk robe over his shoulders, tying the belt at his waist, Kazuya stepped into the master chamber of his bedroom, towel drying his hair as he walked.
Although normally rigorous about personal care, Kazuya wanted to especially impress tonight, not only to present a polished aire for the handful of fighters still remaining in the competition, but for Jun Kazama as well. The thought of seeing her again, brought molten lava through his blood. The vision of her lived on his mind from the moment they parted, yesterday, and he could not wait for this time to pass.
Kazuya let the towel drape across his shoulders, the edges dangling against the exposed curvature of his muscular chest where the robe was slightly V-necked and open. Thumbing through his expensive suits, his fingertips caressed something extremely familiar. His faded and torn denim jeans. Drawing his hand tailored dress suits back in the huge closet, Kazuya studied the old jeans, as if seeing a once close friend for the first time in years. He had worn these old pants for days on end when he wondered the streets of Tokyo, enjoying the freedom only denim and a pair of All-star Chucks could bring him. Shaking his head with a slight smile, Kazuya resumed his search for this evenings attire as his free hand brushed back along his black mane of hair.
Finally, Kazuya decided on something a little different for the not so formal gathering. A pair of Christian Dior leather pants and a dark purple button down Donna Karen shirt, with his black DKNY leather boots. He was not obsessed with designer clothing, he reasoned to himself, just the style and quality his wallet could afford after living so lean, for so long.
Why must you dress us like a doll? Garbage is still worthless, regardless of the price of the bags you chose to dispose of it in. Come now, Kazuya...shall you complete the outfit with a cloak? You could be a more popular Vampire than even the infamous folklore of Vampire Hunter D....
“When will you learn that I no longer give a shit to hear what you have to say?” Kazuya spoke aloud as he set his clothing down along his bed.
...When you realize that I...OWN...YOU.
Devil grew enraged jerking on the strings of Kazuya’s body as if puppet mastering him from within. Forcing him to sink to his knees on the floor, Kazuya could feel the flesh of his back rippling beneath the silk of his robe, followed by the tear of fabric and the sickening sound of shredding flesh.
Kazuya screamed, rushing his hands through his hair, grasping the damp tendrils as if to rip each strand individually from his head. Beautiful leather wings sprung outward, unfolding from Kazuya’s back, arching with the sound of a hawk beating wings to wind and taking to flight. His eyes opened as lightening danced around his dark pupils....Kazuya’s hand reached itself forward, as if moving of it’s own volition, yellowing talons transmuting itself from his own fingertips. Raising his other hand with the force of his will, Kazuya wrapped the one hand around the opposite wrist, trying to hold his possessed appendage at bay. The maneuver failed as the yellow taloned hand broke away, making a sudden movement to latch around his neck. The claws dug into the flesh on either side of his jugular, tearing the flesh till rivulets of blood tears cried down his chest. The devil laughed maliciously, echoing through his mind.
“Stop...” Kazuya choked back his breath, feeling the claws imbedded deeply into his flesh.
Stop, you cry? You, who were so sure you could hold me at bay, silencing me as you please? Come now, great and powerful King of Iron Fist, fight me! I am your enemy...plead not for mercy once you have called me out...oh what is that, your majesty? Unable to contend with the enemy that is...yourself. That is right, my frightened puppet, it is only a matter of time before I take you over...and then it will be your voice echoing through my mind, chained to my soul and unable to free yourself. You will be the prisoner as I rule the flesh, until the day you are silenced and absorbed into my Tekken...forever. You are losing control...
Kazuya hissed, gathering his Ki till his eyes forced themselves shut. Falling into the comfort of deep meditation, he forced his Fatal Lightening to course, burning streaks into his own attacking arm...forcing the devil to rescind his yellowed talons...letting Kazuya’s hand become...his hand once more. With a tightening of his fists, gathered in concentration, Kazuya forced the lightening inward, visualizing the current ensnaring the beast within.
The Devil grew silent. For how long, he did not know.
Drawing once more to a standing position, Kazuya raised his hands to either side of his jugular, feeling the lacerations, the width of a fingernail on the left from where the blood tears had fallen. The skin did not peel back, the wound was not serious, in outward appearance it would seem no more than a clean slice perhaps 1/2 an inch in length.
The demon within was growing stronger with a sudden hunger. The anger within seemed to trigger it’s blood lust. Until this tournament, the Demon had been loose a handful of times, demanding nothing more than his soul as sustenance and greed to feed its power lusting desires. Although the voice was eternally mocking and depreciating to it’s host, it had never made a play to control the body as it had, too often for comfort, during the week of this tournament.
Sitting on the side of the bed, Kazuya calmed himself, preparing for the remainder of surprises the evening would no doubt have in store. Kazuya needed a distraction. Perhaps Chaolan would have a chemical that could assist him in achieving his desired end. Something...to take the edge off.
houshuku
Jun looked anxiously to the door of the large club, each time it opened. The music was swaying hypnotically as the drinks came, round after round. Almost everyone from the tournament, even first round eliminated fighters had remained in Tokyo for this rare and stress relieving event.
Slowly, Jun sipped her third soda of the evening, slipping in and out of the conversation with Michelle, Lei, Baek and the enigmatic Yoshimitsu, who joined their gathering. Other acquaintances flitted in and out, stopping to chat for a bit, passing along jokes and subtle innuendoes for ideas to the mysterious benefactor of this celebration.
The door opened, emitting a brief respite of wind from the heavily smoked out room. Paul Phoenix and Marshall Law entered, together, holding their motorcycle helmets under their arms, respectively. They too joined the little group, nodding hello’s and passing a few comments before Paul moved on for a drink.
From the corner of her eye, Jun spotted Lee Chaolan, an arm around a beautiful American girl who was obviously not a competitor in the Iron Fist. Excusing herself from her cantankerous band of drinking and fighting buddies, Jun made her way toward him.
Lee leaned against the bar, his friend snuggling close as he exhaled cigarette smoke and seemingly enjoying conversation with Wang. Though Jun could tell Lee was also anxiously watching the door. Kazuya had apparently not arrived with him, as she first thought he would. Drawing up to the assembled trio, Jun stopped a respectful distance from the silver devil. Lee paused a moment, meeting her eyes. Releasing his arm from his protege, Lee brushed his hand down along his black, formfitting jeans...he wore a dark blue shirt, tucked into the over emphasizing denim, a black blazer adding a final touch to his appearance. He looked much cleaner than he had this afternoon at the match.
“How are you, Miss Kazama?” Lee offered his hand, bringing her own to his lips and placing a suave kiss to the bridge of her knuckles.
Jun forced herself to speak a bit louder than she was previously accustomed. The music was blaring through her head. “I am fine Lee. And please, considering the rather compromising situation to which you have witnessed me, I think it is safe for you to call me Jun.” She smiled, slightly flushed with embarrassment.
“I never did apologize to you for that..” Lee leaned in closer to her ear, allowing Jun to hear him more clearly.
“No need to apologize, it is all said and done.” Jun smiled, glancing once more to the door. The wrestler, King entered, still masked. He instantly headed toward the bar. Jun wondered a moment how he would be able to drink with that apparatus on...but seeing him guzzle a glass of beer, her question was answered.
Jun took a sip of her drink, smiling to Wang. “A much needed break from the tournament, don’t you agree, Wang-san?”
“Of course. All work and no play is never a positive combination. One must let the devil out to play every once in awhile, else it rebels.” Wang returned Juns smile. “Please excuse me, my lovely Jun.” Wang nodded his head, his eye had caught Master Do San and his body followed the direction of his glance.
Lee tapped his protege softly on the behind, sending her off to the bar for another drink. Leaning in to Juns ear, he asked, “Waiting for Kazuya?”
“Yes. I thought he would be here by now...”
“He probably could not decide what to wear.” Lee laughed, good-naturedly. “He makes fun of my pickiness in clothing. You should see his closet.”
Jun smiled.
“He will be here soon...” Lee continued, looking to the floor as he spoke. Deep in his heart, he hoped Kazuya had found something of more interest to attend to. Else, he hoped Father would conveniently forget to make his appearance. If Heihachi decided to attend or simply observe from the shadows, Lee Chaolan was not sure.
The door to the club opened once more. Jun and Lee glanced up as a cool wind entered prior to the next guest. Jun felt herself smile. She could feel it was him.
Kazuya entered the smoky room, the edges of his black leather trench coat catching on the wind as he walked. Jun felt her face blush as she looked at him, in awe of his...appearance. Dressed in a dark purple button down shirt, tucked neatly into belted black leather...exceptionally snug fitting pants...black leather boots and of course the trench. Slowly, Kazuya slid his arms from the jacket, hanging it beside the rest as he glanced around the room. Jun waved her hand, catching his eye.
Kazuya closed the distance as several of the assembled guests took a second glance at the multi millionaire CEO and King of Iron Fist as he entered. Some glared as he moved, others whispered but most seemed astonished that Kazuya Mishima had decided to join in on the celebration.
Kazuya nodded to Lee. Jun could tell even Chaolan was...impressed by his brothers attire. “Evening Lee...Jun...” Kazuya drank in the vision of his lover as if she were iced water for his burning soul.
“You look incredible...” he leaned close to Jun, speaking into her ear so she would be the only one to hear the words he meant solely for her. Jun was comfortably, yet elegantly dressed in a black spaghetti strap slip silk dress, accentuating the bounty of her curves. Kazuya’s breath was hot on the flesh of her neck and his respectful distance was heating her blood with a sudden sense of..desire. Jun had half hoped that Kazuya would storm into the club, grasping her close and bruising her mouth with his kisses. But this sense of cool aloofness made her quiver even more.
“I could say the same for you...” Jun let the softness of her lower lip brush against the lobe of his ear. Kazuya glanced at her from the corner of his dark eyes, a devious half smile held on his lips.
Kazuya leaned toward Chaolan, also speaking into his ear. Jun watched the two...like darkness and light, extreme ends of the same spectrum. Lee nodded to Kazuya, motioning his head toward the bar.
Leaning in to Jun, Kazuya spoke. “I am going to get a drink, do you want anything?”
“I have already had 3....”
“Great, then another will not hurt. What will you have?”
“Just a soda, I am not much for liquor....”Jun smiled, pressing the edge of her body along his own. Kazuya lowered his eyes slightly, enjoying the feeling of her nearness.
“I will be right back.” Kazuya followed Lee to the bar as Jun turned to rejoin Lei, Baek and Michelle with the enigmatic Yoshimitsu, though her eyes lingered on Kazuya...his appearance more intoxicating than any amount of alcohol rushing through her system could be.
The bartender placed the drinks onto the counter. Lee slid something into Kazuya’s hand as he left for the direction of the restroom. Chaolan found Jun at one of the crowded tables, handing her the drink she had requested. Lee sat down, pinching his nose between his thumb and first finger, inhaling deeply, as his female friend rejoined him, sitting on his lap.
Jun took a sip of her drink as Lee engaged in conversation with Baek Do San, much to the glaring eye of Michelle Chang...who resoundly rose, leaving the table, yelling loud enough for all to hear. “I am NOT sharing a table or a drink with the likes of him or his damn brother. Sorry Jun.” Michelle looked to Jun apologetically and went to mingle with Paul, Marshall and Gan’Ryu, near the blasting epicenter of the music. Baek shrugged to Jun and continued chatting with Chaolan.
Lei leaned over, his speech a bit slurred. “It is good to see you so happy. Your face lit up once you saw him walk in. He might be a sneaky bastard, but he is a lucky bastard.” Lei hoisted his drink with a friendly smile. Jun laughed, lifting her soda to clink glasses with him.
Kazuya walked over, drawing up a chair, a drink in his hand. Sitting down beside Jun, he wrinkled his nose slightly, inhaling deeply through his nose before shaking his head a bit. Yoshimitsu was the first to chat pleasantly with The King of Iron Fist, breaking the proverbial ice. Kazuya draped his right arm along the back of the chair as he leaned back, seeming almost comfortable with the social interaction she never thought he would join. Though his eyes told a different story. The darkened depths darted every break in conversation to the surrounding room. Jun could feel he put up the best most arrogant facade he could muster, but inside, he was far from comfortable.
Baek spilled out a few lude, but interesting jokes, between the distraction of countless females stopping over to plant a kiss on his cheek or a hug around his back. Lei Wulong lifted his emptying drink toward Kazuya, half leaning over Jun, who strategically sat between them. “Let us toast to an excellent match. To Chi...or Ki...” Wulong smiled, drunkenly.
Kazuya lifted his glass, letting the edge kiss along Wulongs before taking a long sip. “How about the next one to our Tekken.” Kazuya nodded, setting his glass down, his eyes falling over Jun. He wanted nothing more than to be alone with her. Juns fingertips slipped slowly along his leathered thigh, lowering her lashes half way, invitingly. It took a substantial amount of willpower for Kazuya to not act upon his impulses, heightened by the...a more chemical state of mind....
A loud crash smashed into the table the group was seated at. A leather clad fist from a powerful fighter. Paul Phoenix was standing to the side of Kazuya, his fist stable along the wooden table to which the throng was gathered. His voice was threatening as Marshall tried to persuade his drunken friend away...before deciding it better to walk off and let him make an ass of himself, by himself.
“I want to know where Nina is, and I want to know, NOW.” Paul raved, his eyes boring into Kazuya.
Lee forced his friend from his lap, cracking his knuckles by pulling them in toward his chest, interlaced.
“I have no idea what you are talking about, Paul Phoenix. Is there a problem?” Kazuya held the drunken bikers eyes, his adrenaline pulsing on high...ready for a fight.
“This little silver bitch...” Paul pointed a thick finger toward Chaolan, who narrowed his eyes, “...leveled her in a match and I haven’t seen her since. She disappeared from the hospital without a trace. I want to know what you did to her and I want to know..NOW!”
“I will say it slower so you understand me, you drunk fuck, I haven’t seen her nor do I care if I ever see her again.” Kazuya set his drink down as Jun slowly removed her fingertips from his thigh.
“Paul, lets not do this...” Baek, leaned back in his chair, rolling the toothpick, acquired from one of his drinks, to the other side of his mouth, pressing it firmly into place.
“Let us not turn a celebration into matters of personal portent.” Yoshimitsu sighed. “Ruffians.” He shook his head, disenchanted with Paul’s rudeness.
“I would hate to have to take you down for disturbing the peace, Phoenix, but I will, if you don’t back the hell off and talk about this some other time.” Wulong made his two cents clear.
“Take me down? You couldn’t take your ass down to the hospital when I am done with you, you chink bastard.” Paul hissed, leaning over the table and directly in Kazuya’s path.
“Watch your damn mouth.” Jun growled. Paul turned his eyes to her.
“You got something to say, you little whore? Everyone already has your number, sweetheart, cheap and easy...”
Kazuya rose with lightening speed, grabbing Paul by the edges of his shirt, drawing him in close. “If you don’t watch your mouth, Paul Phoenix, you are not only going to leave here with a haircut, you are going to leave here in a body bag. Now, shut up...before I shut you up.”
Paul wrapped his hand into Kazuya’s shirt, the two staring coldly into each others eyes. Paul let a smirk cross over his face, an indication he was about to try something. He made a single movement to put Kazuya into a throw... Kazuya reversed it, forcing Paul to bend over the table as he held the drunken fighters arm back behind him, teasing the pressure point of his wrist, driving his face into the table.
“Now say you are sorry to Miss Kazama or I am going to make you sorry.” He hissed, lightening forking through his dark eyes.
“The hell with that....ahhhh!” Kazuya applied force to the pressure point, causing Paul to squeal in pain.
“Your drunk and treading on dangerous ground. Say you are sorry and we can call this little incident, closed for the evening.”
“Alright...alright. Sorry about that.” Kazuya released his arm, taking a step back, ready to assume his stance if necessary.
Paul turned, looking Jun over with a lude smile. “Sorry about that, even if it is true.” He shrugged, turning his attention to Chaolan. With one hand, Paul pressed it against the silver devils chest, the stench of liquor strong on his breath and he leaned over the seated Chaolan. “You on the other hand, I am going to make you my bitch if Nina does not turn up...”
Lee laughed in Pauls’ face, letting his cigarette drop to the floor. “Well, I see why you would want to make me your bitch, Paul. I am far prettier with more class in my pinky than in your bitches’ big fat ass.” Lee smiled arrogantly, enticing the angry adversary to make a very stupid move.
Paul balled his fist, ready to strike Lee. With a swift, forceful motion, Lee brought his leg upside the drunken head of Paul Phoenix, crashing him to the ground, onto his side as Chaolan then drew up to a stand. Paul rolled up as the other guests gathered around. Lei got up, shooing them away with the old police line... “Go about your business, have another drink, nothing to see here....”
Baek and Yoshimitsu looked on, ready to get involved if necessary. Only if necessary. It was considered a dishonor in any culture to interfere with someone else’s fight, unless no other option was open. Every competitor in the Iron Fist, assembled in this room, was quite capable of defending themselves without intervention.
“I want you, outside, now.” Paul hissed.
“You want me, you got me. I will see you in the Semi Finals. We will settle this at the Iron Fist. Try to be sober, so you fully understand you don’t fuck with me and walk away, breathing. You get carried out, by ambulance, just like your two bit slut. By the way....” Lee smiled, licking his lips. “You might want to tell your girlfriend to take better care of herself, she left a bad taste in my mouth. I’m not particularly fond of Skunked beer or skunked females.”
Paul arched his body to charge as Kazuya grabbed hold of him from behind, drawing him onto his knees as he forced Pauls’ head back, connecting the lightening force of his fist to the back of the drunkards head for a Skull Smash. Paul went face down as Kazuya stepped over him, looking to Marshall and Gan’Ryu. “When you take him outside, make sure you lay him on his side. I would hate for him to drown in his own vomit before Lee can get his hands on him.”
Baek was laughing as the two dragged Paul from the floor, stepping outside with his dead weight form....and then, returning to the party! Marshall stopped over at the table, nodding to Kazuya. “I can not apologize for him, but he does become a bit of an ass when he drinks.”
Baek Do San was still laughing. “He is a bit of an ass all the time, that kid has a chip on his shoulder the size of the Island of Japan. I’m cool Marshall, I think everyone here is cool. He got what he deserved, now we can go on with our evening.”
Kazuya resumed his seat beside Jun, finishing his drink in one fell swoop. Lee preferred to stand, lighting another cigarette, his body rushed with adrenaline and still begging for a fight.
“What was all that about?” Jun asked, unsure of what brought on the slight skirmish as she crossed her legs slowly, her eyes falling on Kazuya.
“The hell if I know...” Kazuya was quick to retort, turning his eyes to Jun...watching her startle. For the mere seconds it took for his eyes to connect with her, Jun swore she saw something, another image cast over Kazuya’s features. Demonic and filled with hatred, this thing seemed to come from within her lover. Once his eyes found hers, the image dissipated, leaving her...uncertain of what exactly she had seen.
Lee paced along the main walkway separating the bar from the tables. Flicking his ashes on the floor, his eyes absorbed somewhere within.
“What is with Lee?” Jun asked, softening her tone, trying to draw Kazuya into his previous sense of comfort. The blood lust in his gaze had not yet rescinded.
“He is just a little...anxious. He will be alright.”
Jun nodded, unable to shake off the feeling slaking beneath her skin. Lifting her soda to her lips, she could feel the aire about the room had suddenly and dramatically changed. As if lightening itself charged the atmosphere, igniting it with a foreboding sensation, the eerie calm before a nightmare.
Drawing up to a stand, Kazuya turned wordlessly, walking to the bar. Jun let her eyes fall to the floor, nipping the side of her lip in frustration. Kazuya had suddenly grown cold as if he was withdrawing into himself and for once, Jun did not know what to do.
Suddenly the door leading to the outside swung wide open, releasing a cold wind to writhe through the room. Lightening coursed along the dark sky as heavy rain blew in through the entrance way. The lights in the club flickered as heads turned to find the source of the violent outburst.
A black robed figure seemed to emerge of the shadows, standing stone still in the middle of the entrance way, commanding the whispers of all those within attendance. Was this the mysterious benefactor?
“What in the hell is this all about?” Baek Do San stood, trying to more clearly see the stranger.
“Not what, but who, Master DoSan...” Yoshimitsu commented, also rising from his seat.
Lei and Jun rose as well while the mysterious figure raised it’s massive hands outward to full extension. A hood was covering the head of the stranger, the cloth too thick to see through. And then, the figure...spoke.
“How good of you all to come. I have called you here to celebrate and to bare witness to my challenge.” The figure lifted it’s head, one hand drawing back the cloth of the hood to reveal a face.
“Oh my god...” Lei echoed the words that rode through the minds of the Iron Fist competitors. “He is supposed to be dead...”
“Who?” Jun did not turn toward the breathless Wulong, instead, studying the face of the stranger in their midst. She had seen that face before, through the minds eye of Kazuya. A terrible, haunted memory of a father nearly murdering his young son....
The crowd seemed to part as all eyes turned to Kazuya, his hand clasping around a freshly poured drink from the bar. His eyes drew wide as streaks of lightening coursed up along his arm. The glass he held crackled and finally shattered in his grip as the face of the older man turned to meet his.
“For those who do not know me, I am Heihachi Mishima. As former King of the Iron Fist, I hereby challenge you, Kazuya Mishima for your title.” Heihachi’s finger pointed directly to his son as Kazuya slowly, cautiously walked toward his father. “I will agree to the minor test of any among the remaining competitors you would pose against me, but when I win, you will fight me. Do you accept? Bare witness, honored guests, is the Champion a coward?”
Kazuya turned his eyes from Heihachi, looking to his adopted brother. Instantly, he knew. All the incessant babble of memories, the talk of running away...Lee Chaolan had been swayed and bought by his adopted father, giving him the one link he could use to return from the dead and challenge the King of the Iron Fist. Lee Chaolan had betrayed him.
Lee turned his eyes from Kazuya, pain wracked along his face as the world came crashing down. Shaking his head in near disbelief, Kazuya stood before his father...his hatred and anger gleaming like a demonic beacon of light.
“Have you missed me, my young cub?” Heihachi laughed in Kazuya’s stone set face. “Ahh yes, I see the warmth of welcome in your eyes for the return of the Father you thought you had killed.”
Kazuya glared deep into the eyes of his father, lightening forking from pupil to iris, threatening to consume his form in the same fatal display.
“I see your hatred, your anger, gleaming deep in your eyes. Harness your Tekken, boy. Do you accept my challenge?”
“Your challenge is accepted, old man. You will face a competitor of my choosing and if you survive, you will fight me. I will be sure to kill you more slowly, this time.”
Heihachi’s voice boomed as the thunder itself seemed to cower outside of the club. “Then let you all bare witness to the challenge, accepted by the King of Iron Fist. Drink and make merry now, boy, your time is running out.”
“We will see for whom the reaper comes, old man. There will be no escape from his clutches, this time.”
Heihachi uncrossed his massive arms from his chest, reaching to rest a hand on the shoulder of Lee Chaolan. The old man spoke to his adopted son, never taking his eyes from Kazuya. “You have done well, my son. You have heralded my coming, perfectly. The stench of betrayal wreaks through the very blood of your brother. Be proud to stand at my side.”
Lee did not look up, his face enshrouded by molten silver hair. Shrugging his shoulder away from his adopted Father, Chaolan could taste the bitterness of his own greed and bloodlust, fed to him by a voiceless Kazuya.
“We will meet again, Kazuya. Be ready. As I will be ready.” Heihachi turned, his laughter booming in time with the courses of lightening and thunder just outside. Drawing up his hood, the old man stepped out into the driving rain...and disappeared onto the streets of Tokyo before him.
Kazuya stood for long moment, motionless. Lee Chaolan seemed a mirror echo of his brother’s motions, standing just an arms stretch away from Kazuya.
Taking a deep breath, Kazuya said nothing, instead taking to motion and walking with a slow, arrogant pace from the club. The silence of the gathered fighters weighed heavily in the room, breaking the spirit of comraderie and fun that had run rampant just moments before.
Jun turned, running from her place at the table and stepping out into the rain looking for Kazuya. She could see the red tail lights of his limousine, turning down the block as she shielded her eyes from the sting of the driving rain. Walking back inside, she leaned against the edge of the table, watching Lee Chaolan who had not moved, his head hung in the realization of his ultimate betrayal.
Jun took her eyes from Chaolan, drawing them to Baek...and then Yoshimitsu, before finally settling on Lei Wulong. During the commotion, Lei had regained his seat his head turned from the scene and resting on the knuckles of his fist.
“What has happened Lei? Please tell me what is going on!”
Lei held up his opposite hand, his voice soft and withdrawn. “Jun, please. I can not discuss what has happened while I am in this state. If you seek answers, go to the one who knows more than any of us. Speak to Wang.”
Jun drew in a frustrated breath, wanting to know exactly what had happened and why. Walking from the solemnly quiet table, she sought the old man, Wang. He was seated in quiet contemplation, away from all others, his head hung low, giving to his thoughts.
Jun drew herself to sit beside him, laying her soft hand on the arm of the old man. “Wang-san, please, forgive me my failings but I must know what has happened here, why is everyone speaking in whispers of things I know nothing about?”
Wang turned his ancient, wise eyes to the inquiring young lady he has known most of her life. “Heihachi Mishima has returned from the dead. He seeks vengeance. The story is complicated, but first, tell me why you wish to know the dark secrets of a cursed family?”
“I saw great pain in Kazuya’s eyes, Wang-san. I only hear whispers...I want to help him but I do not know how. I love him, Wang-san. Give me the knowledge I need, to find a way to help him, I beg you.”
“An angel, such as yourself and a demon such as he. It would only make sense to the fates and destinies you will share.” Wang nodded softly. “Then listen closely, lovely Jun. The tale is a cold one, but I will tell it...for the sake of your love.” He cleared his throat softly and slowly began to recant the tale. “I have known Heihachi Mishima since we were both boys, many years ago. His father, Jinpachi Mishima, started a small business after the tragedies of World War II, heavily focused on defense. Many Worldwide companies noticed the innovations Jinpachi had made available and the business slowly began to grow. That company is today known as the Zaibatsu, a worldwide organization you are aware of, a global force in so many world markets, most prominently defense.”
“Heihachi married a young woman, Kazumi and together they had their son, Kazuya. But the birth was long, from which Kazumi never fully recovered. She died when the boy was only 8yrs old. It was then, Heihachi seemed obsessed with training him to become the perfect fighting machine and someday successor to the Zaibatsu. Now, as I tell you the next part, you must understand a world in which times were different. Although you knew certain things were going on in the homes around the city, you never spoke them to anyone. “ Wang took a sip of his water, his eyes holding Juns. “The stories seem to say that one night, weeks after Heihachi lost his wife, he decided the best way to test his sons’ spirit was to throw the young boy into the rocky chasm on the far end of the estate...to see if he would have the power to climb back up. Indeed, the young Kazuya did and a hatred was garnered from son to father, from that day forth.”
Jun was nearly slack jawed, amazed at the very strength of Kazuya’s spirit to withstand such horrible events, to which she only believed existed in the visions she had involuntarily witnessed.
Wang continued. “Heihachi acquired that one, there, on a business trip to Korea and brought the young orphan home as a brother for Kazuya. There was no love lost there, I understand, but Chaolans story is one to which I can not truly tell. In anyway, it seems after several years of violence and abuse, Kazuya ran away. He had done this once before with his adopted brother, infuriating their father to new degrees. But I digress. Kazuya ran away when he was about 18 and though Heihachi searched for him, the boy had disappeared into the streets and presumed to be dead. No word was heard from him for years. Lee went off to college in the states, where I myself lived for a short time, as you might remember. I had the chance to train with him for a bit before I was called back to my family. At that time, Heihachi’s company hosted the first King of Iron Fist tournament, offering a tremendous purse to the winner as well as the right to claim the worlds most skilled martial artists title. Kazuya returned, after nearly 8years and fought his way to the finals, to battle against his own father. Of course, the young Mishima won and as vindication for his hatred and pain, Kazuya hurled his father from the very same cliff he had been thrown from when he was a boy. We all believed Heihachi dead, until now. It seems my old friend has convinced his adopted son to find a loophole by which to challenge his boy, Kazuya...”
“Dear god...” Jun bit her lip, flooded with sudden emotion. “I have to go to him, Wang-san. Thank you, one thousand times, thank you.”
“You are welcome, girl, now...tread carefully, there is danger all around you and yet, there is life all around you.”
Jun looked to the old sage with an unsure glance. She did not have time to ask him what he meant, she had to find Kazuya and each moment she lost was a moment he drifted further away.
Jun rushed toward the door, jerked back suddenly by a grasping hand. Lee Chaolan grabbed her, whirling her around to meet his deathly saddened eyes. Blood dripped from the his left nostril, as if crying tears of his own life essence. “You are going to him, I know. Be careful Jun. I do not know what you will face when you find him...which side will be in control.”
Jun wrenched her wrist from his grasp. “How could you, Lee? How could you give your father....”
Lee turned from her. She was not listening and how could he explain to her the secrets he was privileged to, without chasing Jun away from Kazuya? Lee could not go to him and comfort him, now. He was the cause of all of this. But perhaps Jun could reach him and give him the strength Kazuya would need to face this challenge. Lee had already done enough damage, to do more now, would secure the fact Kazuya would meet death at the hands of his father. Lee was weak, the look in his brothers eyes promised to haunt him, every waking moment of his life.
Jun shook her head, resuming her pace, out into the rain. Her only guardians were the streaks of lightening and the roar of thunder, overhead.
waruasobi
Jun ran through the rain drenched streets of Tokyo, feeling a chill set into her bones. Her will and determination to reach Kazuya, the most powerful calling she could know. She ran for miles, at full pace, carrying her shoes in her hand to give her a more natural stride. Jun stopped, catching her breath at the edge of the long driveway, leading to the Mishima Compound, just miles outside of Tokyo proper. Finding her resolve once more, Jun found shelter under the overhang, ringing the doorbell with persistence, her small fists pounding on the large heavy door when Kazuya failed to answer.
Damn, she cursed to herself. Kazuya was not there....or was he. Calming her raging heart, Jun closed her eyes, shivering and listening to the tides of her blood. His essence was strong, close. The dojo.
Rushing down the blackened path, the stones imbedded in the earth, jagged under her feet, causing Jun to wince in pain from the slow healing wound on the bottom of her foot from the previous days events. Sliding the door of the dojo back with shaking fingers, Jun Kazama stepped within the confines of the torch lined walls.
Kazuya turned in the sweating midst of an ancestral Kata. His dark purple shirt unbuttoned, exposing the glistening flesh of his chest. His face was heaving and red, he continued the motions with the full force of his very essence.
Juns lips were quivering, her dark, drenched hair clinging to her rain kissed skin. The warmth of the room helped to fight the chill reverberating through her bones. “Kazuya....” She wanted to run to him, shield him from the danger surrounding him with her very body.
Her voice seemed to snap him from a rage induced trance. Streaks of lightening coursed up along his form as he turned his back, dropping to one knee with a scream of pure agony. And then, the aire itself seemed to change. The tides of Juns’ blood suddenly told her to run.
Kazuya turned his head, watching her from over his shoulder. His eyes glowing...red, chaotic currents forking within his pupils. He said nothing as he rose, walking with an elongated stride to her. Jun closed her eyes, assaulted by visions she could not decode in time to decide her course of action. Her blood, once more spoke in warning...this is not Kazuya. But how could it not be him? How?
With no word or warning, Kazuya grasped hold of Jun, drawing her into him before spinning her around to press her rain drenched back along the wall. He closed in, pressing himself against her as her wide eyes grasped into his, trying to read the strength of his Ki. She heard the sound of his belt, clamoring to the floor as Kazuya lifted her like a child, beneath the arms, bracing her to the dojo, pressing his hips to rest between her legs as they naturally fell to either of his body. His hands drew her clinging dress upward, around her thighs as Jun bit her lip, her eyes rolling upward, a dark moan pressing past her lips.
Kazuya’s forehead pressed against the dojo wall, Jun could not meet his eyes. Her nails sank into the flesh of his shoulders, beneath his shirt as she writhed with his energy, losing herself. Kazuya’s touch was stronger, more forceful as he filled her with the ardor of his love and hate. She cried out, her body consumed with pleasure, she could think no thoughts, feel no visions. There was nothing but the power of his lust.
His fist hit into the dojo wall as the release of his ardor flowed through her. Only the sheer force of his motion kept her balanced against his hips as his furious pace slowed itself. Juns’ head slammed back as blood trickled from where she had sunk her teeth into her lip. Her cries hit the level of deafening before her voice was silenced, her body shaking violently into her climax end.
Kazuya set her down onto wobbling legs as he turned from her. Jun used the very wall itself to give her the strength to stand, readjusting her garments, her form quivering like a leaf caught in a turbulent wind. She was delirious, the current of his energy rushing through her, impairing her ability to grasp hold of the flurry of thoughts and emotions whirling along her mind.
Kazuya came to face her, once more walking toward her as Jun fought to capture her breath. Scooping her up into his powerful arms, she rested her head along his chest. For all of the things she wanted to say, no words would come. Kazuya carried her up along the path, barefoot from his workout in the dojo. The rain had stopped, replacing the night air with the cloy smell of fresh earth and clean mist as it gathered along the path, leading to the Compound. Kazuya held her with a tenderness she could not explain, though his face was cold as stone. He brought her to his room, resting her on the bed without a word, his glowing eyes looking down on her for a moment, before walking out of the room.
Jun raised her hands to her head, fighting the after-glowing bliss that claimed her form. She could not manage to grip onto her thoughts, the events of this night before the comfort of the bed, softly scented with him overtook her, sending her into the peaceful arms of oblivion.
reinkou
Kazuya sat along the edge of the bed, tired, haggard and still dressed as he was for his appearance at the club last night. His head hung itself low, wandering within the quiet of his own thoughts. The betrayal that rocked through his world had threatened to tear him apart. His emotions had run the extreme course of insanity, bouncing from high to low beginning with the match against Lei Wulong and ending with his last able motions of working the Kata, focusing to keep the Devil, who threatened to overtake him, at bay.
Jun had found him in the dojo and the meditation of the Kata was lost. With a hissing laughter, Kazuya recalled the transition as Devil followed through on the mind spoken threats he made to Kazuya at her appearance. Kazuya fought for control of the demon with all his Ki but he was standing on unbalanced ground. His thoughts and emotions spun like whirlwinds of dust and the Devil seized his opportunity. The Demon released his own anger and contempt for Kazuya, his jailer and his bodily host...by tainting and mocking the one beautiful thing left in his world. His love for Jun Kazama. The Devil took her in the dojo with Kazuya’s body, violating her...though Jun did not know the form of her lover was under the machinations of another, an unholy force, and accepted him into her, writhing to her enjoyment on a touch, almost familiar but not entirely his.
The devil had brought Jun to Kazuya’s bed, for what reason, the young Mishima was unclear. Perhaps to prove his power over the body with a vulgar display. Or perhaps the Devil brought her here for a reason Kazuya frightened himself to fathom. Perhaps the Demon shared the bond Kazuya himself felt to Jun Kazama. Impossible. Demons have no sanctified feelings other than hatred and greed.
Kazuya shook his head slowly, resting his elbows against his knees as his fingers laced before his chin. His eyes, set and unblinking ahead of him. It was all he could do to avoid sinking into a violent fit of anger. Lee Chaolan. Heihachi Mishima. Betrayal of a brother surfaced, striking to kill at the center of his heart. When Chaolan had spoken to him the previous morning, Kazuya felt himself nearly forgiving Lee and himself for a youth of trespasses, of fights and silent contempt, each coveting what the other so desired. Chaolan wanted attention. Kazuya wanted the normal freedoms a boy should have at his age. Lee desired a sense of pride and affection from their Father...and from his new brother. The Young Mishima sought to turn off the constant streaming pain, physically and mentally....and to have a friend with whom he could share his dreams..he wanted that friend to be his brother Lee Chaolan. But Lee was too busy, too angry to give of himself, at that time in their youth. Kazuya, on the other hand was too bitter for a boy his age, too consumed with hatred for his father that boiled over into the brothers lives. Together and yet Separate, Lee and Kazuya had played a game of upperhand, and once the damage was done it was too late and too deep to repair.
And then there was the return of his dead father, Heihachi Mishima. Kazuya was sure the old man had plummeted to his death, his body torn along the jagged cliffs Kazuya himself once assailed. Now he was back to dethrone his son. Only one of them would survive, there could be only one king of iron fist.
Kazuya raked his hands through his hair, memories of the old mans face from the time of his childhood, rushing back to him with a vengeance. He tried to deny the sense of fear gripping the base of his spine. From a young boys eyes, Heihachi was vital, young and massive with strength enough to break his body in half. A son, grown, never looses the initial preconceptions of his father, no matter how age and time wear down on his sire.
Jun stirred, rolling in fitful dreams, entwining her body in his sheets. Kazuya felt his heart sink lower than he thought it could possibly move. She had come to him at the most inopportune moment, out of concern for him and walked directly into the trap which Devil had cleverly laid. Kazuya recalled the malicious words Devil which had, at that moment, echoed through his mind.
I will take her and break her against her will. And when she has cried tears of blood, laced with the agony of your rape, the seed of hell will be planted in her fertile womb. When she can no longer look in your eyes without cringing in fear, I will give her bruises to recall the sweet moments, for a life time.
Kazuya had battled with the demon in his mind, pleading for mercy. Perhaps it worked. Devil left no mark on her form, no visible signs of struggle or rape. Jun slept with an expression of pleasure as Kazuya stood sentry over her vulnerable form. The Devil was held at bay, for now, exhausted from the drain of power it used to sustain control of his own body as well the energy used in the carnal act of pleasure. Yet, Kazuya was scared for Jun. The feelings he kept for her had caused the Devil to attempt to hurt and disgrace her. It was the only a matter of time before the demon would succeed. Kazuya would never forgive himself should that day arrive.
Was this what Love felt like? To fear the pain that could be caused? The willin gness to take the punishments and brutal beatings from the talon hand of the demon rather than to see a single hair misplaced on his angels’ head? The taste of his love was bitter, Kazuya realized. He wanted to wake Jun and proclaim his sudden surge of emotion. But he could not. He had endangered her enough, already. He would have to chase her far from him, from his home and his bed...from his heart, if Kazuya were to spare her life. One day the Devil might be too strong to persuade, too powerful to hold within a cage of his mind.
Jun rolled to her side, stretching her arms outward, letting her fingertips tickle the edge of Kazuya’s shirt. Locked within her dreams, she whispered once more the words he so longed to hear. “I love you, Kazuya.”
Brushing the edge of his knuckles along her fair cheek, Kazuya removed her silken hair from her face, watching her dream. “I love you to, Jun. And I am sorry. I am sorry for what I have done to you and for what I am forced to do to you. I would drink your tears, never to see them fall. Forgive me, my beautiful angel. Forgive me.”
Sinking his head into his hands, Kazuya prepared himself to lose everything in a fight...without even issuing a blow.
tenka
Jun awoke as the first rays of sun came through the large windows in Kazuya’s bedroom. Her hand rushing to her hair, she tried to settle her swimming mind, clouded with the passion and fervor of Kazuya’s love making. How they ended up committing themselves to passion eluded Jun. Her intent was to find him, comfort him as the raging torrents of danger swirled around him. But she could not refuse his advances, the thrill of his touch. Perhaps he found a release for his anger, channeled into the soft ebb and flow of her body.
Drawing herself to a stand, Jun steadied along the edges of Kazuya’s four post bed. She felt...dizzy, almost...sick. A slight wave of nausea over took her. Walking half bent over toward the bathroom, she felt as if her body was in a state of revolt, wanting to purge itself of anything she might have had in her system.
Jun rinsed the awful taste from her mouth as she tried to calm the beading sweat at her brow. What in the hell was wrong with her? Making her way down the stairs of the east wing, she found herself in the main fore, sickened by the strong scent of coffee hanging in the air.
Trying to speak to the bustling house servents, Jun found herself getting no where fast. They only bowed to her and continued on the busy work of keeping the huge compound immaculate. She stepped outside, her bare feet making contact with the damp strength of mother earth. The sensation rejuvenated her and yet strangely she could almost swear she was suddenly at great focus with the tide and course of nature. As if a mystery were unraveling at the very edge of her feet. In time, Jun felt as if she would know the answer...something of great import that barely seemed to evade her capture. There was time.
And then, in an instant, Jun heard Kazuya’s voice drifting from above her. Glancing upward to an open window, she heard him again, speaking to someone. Rushing back inside the compound and up the landing of steps, she caught her breath and found the one she had been searching for.
Enshrined within a large room dressed in ancient feudal Japanese splendor mimicked the very workings of the CEO office at the Zaibatsu. Kazuya paced along the windows behind his desk, speaking into the phone he held to his ear.
“You are not listening to me, Gan’Ryu. I have told you to make the posting read as follows. Heihachi is to fight Jack-2 in the semi finals. That is the challenger of my choosing. Make the changes and post them in the lobby of the hotel. I am sure my dear Father will find it. Yes, that is my intention, Gan’Ryu. If you force me to repeat myself again, you will find yourself...unemployed. Do we understand each other? Excellent.” Kazuya clicked the button on his hand held phone as his thumb and forefinger braced the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.
Jun made a motion to enter as Kazuya looked up, instantly, drawn to awareness of anothers’ presence by the slight creak of the floorboards beneath Juns foot. “Good Morning, Jun.” Kazuya turned his eyes away from her, the taste of bitterness suddenly returning to his mouth.
“You have not slept, have you, Kazuya?” she walked in a few paces before bracing herself against the wall for support. Once more the sickening wave threatened to pass over her.
Kazuya looked up. She had either rested well or had been sated by the demons puppetering last night. Jun seemed radiant...almost glowing. She was too painful to witness with his eyes. He had to keep looking away. “I am not much for sleeping. There is much to be put in order, considering last nights developments. Shall I have breakfast brought to you?” Kazuya put a cold, emotionless edge into his voice. Glancing upward, he could see her flinch with the chill.
“I..I am not quite hungry.” she cleared her throat softly, suppressing the bile forming within. “Perhaps you should have some breakfast thought, would you like me to bring you a cup of coffee, or something...anything?”
“Don’t be foolish Jun, I have servents to fetch me the things I need.” Kazuya turned his back to her, glancing out the stained glass window.
“Oh...” Jun let her gaze fall to the floor.
“Jun, there is something I have been meaning to tell you. I think, perhaps, it would be a good idea if we no longer spent as much time with one another.” Kazuya wanted to bite back his words the moment they left his mouth. He closed his eyes, taking a silent breath before turning around to hold her glance.
“What do you mean?” her brows knitted softly, suddenly defensive, unsure of why he would say such a thing to her.
“What I mean, is exactly this. We have spent far too much time together in the past several days and frankly you have become a bother. The evenings we have spent in one anothers company have been useful, though you do not seem to understand my desire for you to leave, once we are finished for the night.”
“Kazuya!?” her eyes went wide, her lips emitting a breathless gasp.
“You see, Jun. I have no interest or intent in you. With the exception of your body perhaps. But seeing how easy a conquest you have been, I find myself inanely bored with you.” Kazuya stepped around his desk, taking a seat along the edge of the mahogany.
“I can not believe this...” Jun’s eyes were wide.
“Oh my dear Miss Kazama, do, by all means, believe this. Did you fancy yourself something more than what you are to me? Surely you understood the reason I took you to my bed? To distract you of course. Your fervor for the WWWC was intriguing at first but you were dangerously close to the truth my dear. And what better way to dissuade you from pursuing your cause, then by jading you with my company...and tainting you in my bed.”
Jun rushed forward, tears brimming along the edge of her eyes. Her hand raised, connecting with his cheek, forcing his head to turn from the impact of her blow. “I do not know why you are saying the things you are saying Kazuya Mishima but I don’t believe you...I refuse to believe this meant nothing to you!”
Kazuya grasped her hand, drawing her into his body as his eyes stared cruelly into her almond depths. “Believe it, Miss Kazama. You were nothing more to me than an acquisition. Tell me, how does it feel to be a pawn, manipulated by the hands of a Master? You have served your purpose to my bed and my cause....now, get out.” Kazuya flung her from him, sending her spilling onto the carpet as tears poured down her eyes.
“You unbelievable bastard, how could you toy with me like that...how could you?”
Kazuya turned his back to Jun, looking once more to the world beyond the window. It was slipping from his fingertips...the breath of life was leaving him...behind.
“An unbelievable bastard, Miss Kazama?” He forced himself to laugh, arrogantly. “Count on it. Now, remove yourself from my home, lest you prefer me to remove you myself.”
Jun gathered herself from the floor, blinded by her tears, she sniffled them back, her body wracking in sobs...in rhythm to her breaking heart.
“I am warning you for the last time, Miss Kazama. Get out of my home or I will be forced to hurt you. GO!” His voice boomed as he heard her walking from the room.
“Say what you will, Kazuya. I know my heart and it says to me that I love you. I never imagined that...I never imagined that.” Jun took to a run, crying, as he heard her footfalls echoing down the steps.
Kazuya closed his eyes, feeling a tear spill from beneath his long lashes as he placed a hand on the cold pane of stained glass before him. “No, you did not imagine it, Jun. I swear you did not. Someday, I pray you forgive me, sweet angel. My love for you will echo through my heart, empty of another..for all the days of my life. Forgive me....Forgive me.”
Kazuya rested his forehead along the glass before him. His voice breaking beneath the weight of his shattered heart, reverberating in the sound of her tears wracking through her body. His lips tasting the salt of his pain, he whispered to the aire around him....”Forgive me....”
kourui
Jun fled the compound, her hands wiping tears as they streaked down from her eyes. Once past the long driveway, she sunk down with her back against a tree, drawing her knees tight to her chest. The tears would not dissipate, the sound of her heart cracking still echoed in her ears.
Did she imagine all this?
How could she have left herself open to fall in love with him? She was nothing but a conquest, or so he had said. Why did this hurt so much, if none of this was real?
The searing wave of nausea overtook Jun, once again. Everything felt as if it were falling apart. Kazuya’s words had brought her world crashing around her. It seemed nothing in her life before him even mattered, anymore. There were no great causes, no moral wars....no right and wrong. There was only Kazuya...only the depth of his eyes, the scent of his skin and the lingering heat of his fingertips dragged against her skin.
Jun sat for sometime, gathering her strength to walk away and forever leave Kazuya Mishima behind. Finally, in no particular hurry, Jun began the long walk back to the hotel, her questions were her only companions on the journey.
jigoujitoku
Lee Chaolan leaned against his car, dragging smoke off the cigarette dangling between his gloved fingers. He had been waiting for over an hour on the street across from the Zaibatsu for Gan’Ryu to leave and deliver the posting, ordered by Kazuya.
Lee knew precisely whom his brother had chosen to replace him in the office. Although Gan’Ryu was not nearly as personable or even as capable, Kazuya knew he could be trusted. The Sumo wrestler had been involved on and off with the Mishima Family for several years of his life.
After a long night of cocaine bingeing in an attempt to self destruct, Chaolan had uncovered an idea to make his trespasses against Kazuya right, for once. Lee had let himself into the office, knowing fully well that his brother would be in no mental state to attend to Zaibatsu business with the return of Heihachi hanging on the line. Using that to his advantage, Lee had let himself into the office, scantly an hour ago and headed straight for the Records room.
In the records room, Chaolan found a small stack of copies for the Semi Finals match list, in regards to the Iron Fist Tournament. Apparent to Lee at that moment, Kazuya had been awake, early, and already set to instructing his henchman, Gan’Ryu to his bidding.
With Kazuya’s set up of the matches, copied and complete, the contestants would now be logged into the records room and finally the postings would be made available to the fighters, the hotel and a hand selected number of key areas to draw important spectators. Kazuya had decided to take on Paul Phoenix, rather than allowing Lee the pleasure. Instead, scheduling him to compete against Jun Kazama. Was this a test to see if he would dare raise a finger to his brothers love? It would have to be changed if Chaolan’s plan to do right by his brother would allow him vindication. Lee decided to place the EcoFighter against Jack-2. With any luck, Jun would not fight the robotic operative alone. She would have a cheating hand from Chaolan, though Miss Kazama would never know it. Lee would be sure to send programming through the tin can, with orders to soften it’s strike. Jun, then, would not be too hurt when she inevitably lost.
Lee lifted his pen to fresh paper and preceded to rewrite the matches, logging them into the records himself before running off only one additional copy. It would be posted in the hotel lobby.
Lee left the newly acquired posting on his former desk, where Gan’Ryu returning from his errands, would be sure to find it. He knew the oaf would not bother to check it over, more than likely having aggravated his brother to his wits’ end just to get the listing written correctly. That confidence would be all the henchman would need and within a short time would be forced to run it over to the hotel lobby, himself.
Glancing over his handiwork, one last time, reading through and making a mental note of things yet to come. Lee prepared the locations and scheduled time lists to deliver to the hotel, directly into the hands of the contestants, leaving Kazuya Mishima in the dark. For his own good. It was time for Lee Chaolan to do something right, for a change.
Hosted by the Mishima Zaibatsu
Quarter-Finalist results:
Kazuya Mishima d. Lei Wulong
Lee Chaolan d. Nina Williams
Jun Kazama d. Roger
Paul Phoenix d. Armor King
Jack-2 d. Marshall Law
Semi-Finalists: Round 1 of 2
In order to honor all competitors in the Iron Fist Tournament, we will be forced to have preliminary and secondary rounds of combat to reach the deciding 2 contestants, for the Tournament Finals Match.
Kazuya Mishima v. Paul Phoenix
Jack-2 v. Jun Kazama
Heihachi Mishima v. Lee Chaolan
*Due to the necessity of extreme security precautions and rules of governed fairness, locations and scheduled match times will only be sent directly to match participants.* Lee nodded to himself, looking to his watch before crushing his cigarette, resuming his leaning hip against the body molding of his car. Well over an hour had passed since his invasion of the Zaibatsu but there was no dissuading what was set into motion. Lee would be sure to await Gan’Ryu and follow him to the Hotel. Lee had to be sure the posting would be made, properly and before Kazuya could see what was already logged and set into the motions.
Chaolan emptied the contents of a small amber vial out onto the edge of his gloved thumb, closest to his palm. Inhaling deeply, he glanced up through silver tendrils, watching the Sumo, Gan’Ryu heading to the Limo. The redone posting in his hand. Slipping into his Honda S2000, Lee Chaolan prepared to grasp destiny...by the Tekken.
bura-kunha-to
The Silver Devil made sure to stay out of sight as Gan’Ryu came and went from the hotel hosting the Iron Fist Tournament competitors. Once the Limo had sped off, carrying the Sumo Wrestler, Lee prepared to exit his car. Glancing once into the rearview mirror to check his appearance, Lee realized he looked...horrible. The fair skin of his face was marred below his bloodshot eyes with puffy dark circles. His nose was red, swollen. Even his beautiful mane of silver hair was in desperate need of a washing. Sighing softly, Lee brushed a hand back along his forehead, drawing on his sunglasses when he saw a familiar figure from his mirror.
Jun Kazama was walking up the street toward the hotel, barefoot.
Rushing from his car, Lee crossed the busy street, entering the lobby just a few paces from behind the EcoFighter. Jun stopped to regard the posting as Lee’s hand reached to touch her shoulder from behind. She turned slowly. Her eyes were swollen...from crying, Lee realized instantly. Jun was still dressed as she had been last night, though she looked as though she had been dragged through hell by her heartstrings.
“Lee.” Jun nearly whispered, hoarse and shivering. Her hands draped around her chest to fight off the chills.
“Are you...alright?” he asked, concerned to see her in this state. A mirror of his own.
“Hmm?” Jun seemed distracted, lost in her own clouded thoughts. “Is there something you wanted, Lee?”
Chaolan handed her a closed envelope. “This is the information for your upcoming match against Jack-2, tomorrow...”
Jun took the envelope in trembling fingers. Her eyes connected with Lee’s and within a second, she collapsed, unexpectedly melting to the floor as her eyes stared ahead, fixed and glazed.
“Oh god, Jun...” Lee sank down, scooping her shoulders up into his arms as a sense of panic washed over him. Screaming to the desk behind him, Lee called for the manager of the hotel to call for an ambulance. Lee stayed beside her, cradling her and speaking softly to her. After several moments Jun seemed to come around, blinking her previously stone set eyes as disorientation and nausea washed over her.
“What...what happened?” Lee brushed strands of her hair back from her face as she spoke, his body still cradling hers, protectively.
“You collapsed, Jun, but you are alright now. The ambulance is on the way, once they take you, I will have the hotel manager call Kazuya and I am sure he will meet you there....”
“No! NO!” Jun forced herself to sit up, her head pounding as the waves of sickness crashed over her. “Please don’t call him Lee, Please...”
“Jun, relax, lay back. Why don’t you want me to call him? Don’t you want him to meet you there...?”
The ambulance lights flashed through the lobby doors, sirens blaring to the point of near deafness. The door to the emergency stairs beside the elevator crashed open with a booming force and Lei Wulong was rushing for the lobby doors. Stopping mid motion, he fell to his knee before Lee as the Silver Devil cradled Jun.
“What happened?” Lei had the look of one who had just awoke from a long afternoon nap. The cop had had a rough night out, his eyes seeming exhausted though his breath was scented strongly with the heavy imbibing of last evenings libations.
“I came in to see to the postings and hand out the envelopes I have for the fighters when I saw Jun, she just collapsed....” Lee was relieved to see the officer, to not be forced to handle this alone.
“I am alright, Lei, don’t...worry...” Jun looked to Lei with sorrowful eyes. For all his tenderness and warmth, why could her heart not have fallen for this brave street warrior with a badge. This modern day knight in shining armor. Wincing her eyes once more, Jun wrapped her hands along her stomach, bending slightly at the waist.
The ambulance came in as Lei stood, his badge on his hip, his hands directing the paramedics in with the stretcher. The medical technicians placed a portable oxygen mask over Juns’ face, slapping a digital blood pressure cuff to her wrist. Her hands flailed, trying to push them away. Lei Wulong knelt down, taking her upper arms in his soft, warm hands.
“Jun, let them do what they have to, please.”
Once the vitals were recorded, one of the paramedics leaned down to ask the young Japanese woman what had happened.
“I walked home and I felt a little sick...I am alright, really.” she pleaded, refusing medical treatment. The paramedic looked to the officer on the scene, shrugging his shoulder. “We can not take her if she is refusing treatment. Her BP is normal, stats are on target. Would you like to try to talk to her Detective Wulong? At the very least, this young lady should see a doctor...as soon as possible.”
Lei looked to Jun as her eyes pleaded deep into his. Turning back to the paramedic, he shook his head. “Miss Kazama is still refusing treatment, though she has assured me that she will see a doctor while she is here in Tokyo. I am sorry you have come all this way, but thank you.”
With that, the paramedics departed and Lei looked to Lee Chaolan and then, to Jun. “What do you want to do, Jun?”
“I want to go to my room and lay down, I will be fine if I can just..lay down.” Jun stood, falling back slightly onto Chaolan, who caught her easily.
“How about I just carry you up?” Lee gave Jun no choice, scooping her up into his arms as Lei pressed the button for the elevator. For a moment, Jun felt the willingness to fall into sleep, cradled in someones arms, anyone...just to make this horrible pain in her heart, dissipate.
Jun whispered her pass key information to Wulong as he opened the newly fixed door lock and let Lee, cradling Jun inside. Laying her down on the bed, she instantly curled up.
Chaolan walked toward the window, opening it slightly as he lit a cigarette, looking out over the city, his dark eyes drawn to the overpowering Zaibatsu building, in the heart of Tokyo.
Lei sat beside her on the bed, petting her hair comfortingly. “Want to tell me what brought this whole thing on? Did someone keep you up late last night?” He smiled, trying to lighten the severity of the events which had just occurred.
Tears instantly formed in her eyes as she laid her head down along the pillow, looking away from Wulong.
“He hurt you, didn’t he?” Lei drew his chin firmly set, a look of fire spreading through his eyes. “Did he put his hands on you?”
“No.” Lee Chaolan spoke, never turning his eyes from the world outside the window. A ring of light blue smoke encircled him. His voice was soft but firm. “No, he would not hurt her. Not as you are thinking Wulong. In light of the upcoming events, I believe I know what my brother is thinking. Kazuya is trying to chase you away, Jun. You are too close to him and that leaves you in the path of a ricocheting bullet. He is trying to protect her Wulong, the only way he knows how. By isolating himself. Kazuya thinks that by standing alone he will be more powerful to prevail over Father. No man is an island, not even Kazuya Mishima.”
“You speak so highly of him and yet you betrayed him. Your own brother, if not by blood then by soul. How can Jun or I believe what you are saying. Which side of your face are you talking out of, Lee Chaolan?”
“Then tell me Detective...” there was a snide, bitterness to the Silver Devils voice as he glanced over his shoulder. “What do I gain by lying? What is my MO, so to speak?”
Lei stood, crossing his arms. “I am going to be the one asking the questions. You, who have both protected your brother during my investigations and yet so openly gave him, lock stock and barrel to your Father. You have several motivations, I am sure, but which is real and which is the real you?”
Lee turned fully, looking over Jun as she rested, listening and perhaps silently praying what Chaolan spoke was truth. “The real me has long since been abandoned to my ambitions. I am trying to find him again. I am going to try to begin again by taking on the wrath of my father and defeat him before he can reach his fingers into Kazuya. Truth be told, Lei Wulong, I have seen my brother with Jun...and I have glimpsed him....happy, for lack of a better word. I would preserve that if I could...but I would not lie about it.” Lee held Juns eyes, speaking solely to her. “Now, you can trust in what I am saying or you could dismiss it as coming from the mouth of the brother who has betrayed the man you love. I can not decide for you but I can plead with you to understand that your feelings for him will give Kazuya the strength to face his demons. Don’t lose faith in him now...not now...”
Jun wanted to believe the silver devil. The words Lee Chaolan spoke gave her a sense of hope and yet a bittersweet longing to be with Kazuya...she could not imagine him facing his destiny...alone. But all the things he had said to her, all the horrible words spoken as he glared deep into her eyes, the gateway of her soul. Was Lee Chaolan telling her the truth, or was he merely setting her up to take a harder fall?
Lei looked back and forth between the two, his mind and heart torn in a quandary for what he could only have imagined happening between Jun and Kazuya. Leaving this beautiful creature to walk home, sick and weakened to the very limit of retaining her consciousness, the weight of the words Kazuya must have barked had left Jun with swollen eyes and a broken heart. For all the CEO’s ruthlessness, in Lei Wulongs eyes, Kazuya Mishima had hit an all time low.
“All of this heresay and heartfelt introspection for Kazuya Mishima put aside, we still have something very serious to discuss, Jun. You came home quite illl and past the point of near exhaustion. You really should go and see a doctor.” Lei paused, looking to Lee for a moment, trying to delicately phrase what even Chaolan knew had to be said. “And Jun...I know you have come far through the rounds of the Iron Fist but...you might want to consider withdrawing, for your own safety.”
Jun shook her head vehemently, no. “I won’t pull out, I can’t leave him alone in this.”
Lei leaned down, his voice becoming stronger, as if he were addressing a child. “You are not listening to me Jun. This has nothing to do with Kazuya, you can cheer him on from the sidelines, but for now you really have to think of your health. Who are you fighting in the Semi’s?” Lei looked to the Silver Devil.
Lee Chaolan turned his eyes away. “Jack-2.”
Wulong shook his head, disbelievingly, his eyes still holding Juns. She nodded softly. Jack-2 was a ferocious machine, a deadly alloy enemy capable of wiping the ring with its’ target opponent. But Jun had faith in herself, in her art. “I will see a doctor in the morning and I will decide from there. Lee, how long do I have, should I have to withdraw?”
Lee exhaled his last breath of smoke, crushing his cigarette between his thumb and forefinger. “If you do not show up, you will be disqualified. You have up until the match itself to withdraw, giving Jack the automatic win either way.”
Jun nodded softly, rubbing her eyes.
Lei tapped Lee on the forearm. “We should really let you get some rest Jun. I have to stop at the station and check up on some investigations I have had my partner working on while I was competing. Now that all this is over with for me, I have to delve back in full time. I promise I will stay here at the hotel until the finals are over. You have my cellphone number and my pager if you need anything. Will you be alright?”
Jun nodded softly.
Lei continued. “Alright then, get some rest and I will check back on you later.”
Lee looked to the shattered angel, softness in his eyes. He could not be truly sure why Kazuya would hurt her, why he would throw happiness away with both hands. But his brother was enigmatic and Lee could only hope he had put his finger on the pulse of Kazuya’s intentions.
“Rest easy, Jun.” Lee brushed the edge of his swollen nose with his gloved hand. His entire body was crashing, he could feel it. His cocaine binge had left him in exhaustion. He would need his strength for his match tomorrow morning with Heihachi. Lee Chaolan would have to find a way to get the envelope to his adopted father. But then again, he was sure Heihachi would contact him by evening. The elder Mishima would be in for a surprise.
Lee Chaolan closed the door as he exited with Lei Wulong. The cold metal click of the lock brought Jun back into the fetal position. The demons of her mind slowly began the attack, reliving each word, every shift of his movements and the depth of his eyes from the incident this morning. Her body was failing her, her heart betraying her and her mind...giving in to the power of her pain. The demons were strong and vicious. They spoke hateful words from their purple maws...yellowed talons that ripped into her very soul.
Left alone, she could feel the anguish growing from the Devil Within.
jinmon
Outside of Juns room in the Hotel, Lei drew Chaolan toward him by the edge of his gloved wrist. “Your Brother and I need to have a little talk. If you see him, you let him know Lei Wulong is looking for him.”
Lee nodded knowing he would not get close enough to Kazuya to deliver any messages. The enraged look in Wulongs eyes told him it was best to avoid an unnecessary and nasty conflict with the Detective.
Wulong walked away, brushing his hand back through his long black ponytail. He was destined to run into the CEO eventually, but he had time. His anger at Juns dishonor would know no time constraints. Lei Wulong had all the time in the world.
shan naitsuusha
Kazuya paced along the expanse of windows lining the back wall of his home office inside the Mishima Compound. Gan’Ryu had not yet returned his phone call, which meant the sumo wrestler was either out running errands, as instructed...else he had stopped for a very long lunch.
His hands clasped behind his back, Kazuya felt the overwhelming tiredness and agitation a lack of sleep casts on the mind. The house was quiet. Too quiet.
After moments lost along the darkening storm clouds, the phone began to ring incessantly. Bracing his thumb and middle finger along the bridge of his nose, his voice broke over the line. “Hello. Yes, Gan’Ryu, I have been waiting for you to return my call. Did you deliver the postings to the locations as I requested? What? What do you mean there was only one copy of the posting? God damn it! You idiot. No, do not remove the posting from the board at the hotel. I will go down there myself. Oh, and Gan’Ryu, your fired.”
Kazuya hung the phone up with a bang, shaking his head in disgust. Calling for one of the house servents, the young male bowed awaiting his commands. “Have the driver located and the car brought around. I am going to the hotel.”
Walking past the attendant, Kazuya went to the master bedroom to change his clothing. Drawing out the old pair of ripped up blue jeans and a white form fitting wifebeater shirt, adding black combat doc martins as well as his leather trench and sunglasses, Kazuya felt suddenly close to his roots, coming up along the hard streets of Tokyo and learning the truth about what Freedom really was.
Heading down through the Fore, Kazuya drew into the awaiting limousine. “To the hotel” he barked at the driver, tapping his knuckles along the tinted black glass.
For a moment Kazuya wondered if he would see Jun there, or if perhaps, she had returned to WWWC headquarters, forever leaving Tokyo city behind her. His heart was broken either way.
Stepping out of the car before the driver could come around, Kazuya walked into the lobby, heading straight for the bulletin board. The Hotel manager, recognizing the CEO and Tournament Sponsor drew up along side of him. “Everything is fine, Dono Mishima, the injured fighter in your competition is resting comfortably, there was no need for you to come down here personally to inquire as to her condition. I spoke with your assistant at the Zaibatsu...”
Kazuya lowered his sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose. “I was unaware anyone had been injured, there are no matches scheduled for this day. What is the name of the competitor?”
The hotel manager looked slightly anxious, wringing his hands slowly. Apparently he had been the first person to inform the CEO of this breaking news.
“Jun Kazama, Dono Mishima.”
Kazuya’s eyes widened as he felt the breath catch in his throat. “Is she alright? What happened?”
“I am not sure what occurred, Dono Mishima, but it seems Miss Kazama returned early this morning to the hotel, around the time your assistant Dono Chaolan came to assure the posting for the tournament was listed. In conversation, Miss Kazama collapsed. Dono Chaolan had me call the ambulance...”
“Chaolan was here with Miss Kazama?” Kazuya felt a twinge of anger rise up through his eyes.
“Yes sir. I then called the ambulance as Dono Chaolan requested. Another of the competitors, Detective Wulong directed the traffic of the paramedics into the lobby, though Miss Kazama would not accept medical treatment. Dono Chaolan carried Miss Kazama upstairs and then left with Detective Wulong.”
A torrent of emotion flooded through Kazuya. Fear and worry for Jun. Her altercation with him this morning had finally pushed her over the edge. There was nothing he could do. Even if every instinct screamed for him to rush up to her room and see if she was alright. The wheels had been set into motion. There was no stopping the well oiled machinations of his plans. And yet the secondary notion came to mind, what was Lee Chaolan doing here? Perhaps he was checking the posting Gan’Ryu had left for his match information?
Realizing the hotel manager was waiting with bated breath for his answer, Kazuya nodded to him. “Thank you. Your assistance with this matter is greatly appreciated.”
The manager bowed, returning to the desk as Kazuya moved in to check the posting. This was not Gan’Ryu’s writing. The posting was in the cursive hand of Lee Chaolan. The matches had been changed.
“Damn it!” Kazuya cursed. Who the hell did Lee Chaolan think he was? Kazuya rushed to the door, barking to the driver once more. His next destination, Lee Chaolans loft in Uptown Tokyo.
His patience was wearing thin, as each mile passed beneath the wheels of the Limousine. It was time to take care of his meddling brother, once and for all.
Kazuya’s knuckles pounded on the steel door of the loft. There was a sound of things crashing to the floor inside the loft. Finally a very sickly, exhausted looking Lee Chaolan answered the door. “Kazuya. You are the last person I expected to see here.”
Kazuya grasped Lee by the throat, lifting him as he pushed his way inside the loft. With the heel of his boot, Kazuya slammed the door behind them, his fingers squeezing along the tender, strangling neck of his brother. “I could crush the very life out of you” Kazuya hissed, removing his sunglasses and throwing them to the floor, allowing Chaolan to see his demon set eyes.
Lee draped his hands around Kazuya’s wrist trying to alleviate the pressure of his hold. His lips were turning blue as he tried to cough out the rising bile in his throat. “Please...” Lee croaked out with his remaining wind.
Kazuya threw him down onto the couch. Lee’s leg crashed into the Ying yang coffee table, sending a powdered cloud from a mound of disturbed cocaine into the air.
“How dare you take it upon yourself to change the match listings I have posted for the tournament. You must have a death wish, Chaolan. If so, I am here to give you what you have been begging for.” Kazuya hissed, removing his trench coat and stepping toward him.
“Kazuya...I can explain, please...” Lee rubbed his hands along his neck, trying to recirculate blood flow to his traumatized wind pipe.
“Nothing you could say to me will change what I am going to do to you.” Kazuya drew toward him, stepping over the mess of discarded clothing, plates and various other sundries left to rot on the squalid floor.
“I am going to fight Father. I am going to beat him. If I beat him, he won’t be able to make it to you and then you can do what you will to me in the finals. I won’t fight against whatever you decide, you deserve your vengeance. Just please...please let me do the right thing. For once, please.”
The phone, somewhere amidst the mess came to life, ringing wildly. Kazuya turned in the direction of the sound, nodding to Lee to answer it. Chaolan scrambled up from the couch, digging through the mess to grasp the hand held cordless phone. On his knees, The Silver Devil glanced up to his brother. The voice of Heihachi on the line.
“Yes, Father. The matches were posted today. I have the information for the semi finals, you are to meet your opponent tomorrow morning at 8am at the Mishima Dojo in the Zaibatsu. That is right. Yes, Father and good luck.” Lee hung up, whispering. “You will need it, old man.”
Lee looked up from his mess of silver tangled tendrils. “Will you grant me this request Kazuya? Will you let me defeat Heihachi before you strike against me?”
Kazuya fell back into a chair, thrumming his fingers along the arms as his eyes stared straight ahead of him. “If you are going to defeat Heihachi, you have to lay off this shit...” Lee knew exactly what Kazuya was referring to. “...and get some sleep.”
Crawling over toward his brother on his knees, Chaolan leaned back, brushing a hand along his swollen, blood encrusted nose. He looked like death warmed over. A grim specter of his former arrogance and grandeur. Much as Kazuya must have appeared to Lee, donning his former street attire with a certain sense of comfort he had long forgotten.
“Kazuya, there are some things I have wanted to say to you for a long time now. Though I did not have the courage up until this point. I am sorry, for all of the things I have done to you, all the ways I have been a disappointment to you. From the time I came into your home, I wanted nothing more than to be close to you, a little brother who would be there to look out for you...and be your best friend. I always thought that was how a family was supposed to be. But you would not let me past your guard and at some point the petty jealousies became more important to me than getting to be something more than an adopted Korean brat from the streets who just magically became your brother. I am sorry for all the times I knew what Father was doing to you in the dojo....and did nothing to stop him. I am sorry for all the long nights you sat at home, refusing to cry and nursing a vicious injury while I went out and partied with friends and girlfriends, seemingly cold to your pain. I wasn’t. There were many times I came into the library to check on you, asleep with your head on a book, a grimace of pain across your face. I wanted to help you in so many ways, but you never would have let me.”
Lee felt tears brimming at the edge of his eyes. Why did this feel like his last confession? Kazuya parted his lips to speak, but Chaolan continued, raising to his feet, walking toward Kazuya before kneeling once more. “I remember those cold nights sleeping in the alley, only a small fire made of newspapers to keep us warm while you watched over me. I remember how noble you looked, like a vigilante warrior, protecting me. And how I would do the same for you, guarding you while you slept. We had some wild times during that week of freedom. We finally got to see one another as we truly could have been...if all the bullshit in our lives had been suddenly removed. I have always been jealous of you, of your strength and of your convictions. I wanted to be like you, but inside, I am shallow and weak in comparison. No matter what I do, I will never add up to more than I am now. But I am, in my heart, your brother and in that is a world of dignity and respect to carry such a title. If my life is to forfeit itself at any time, then I wanted all of this said so that you would know my heart. I desire nothing more than to see you happy, as you have been with Jun and successful as you would always be, no matter what lot in life you were cast into. I plead your forgiveness for all I have done...” Lee leaned toward him, closing his eyes softly, placing a kiss against Kazuya’s lips, reverently. Kazuya returned his kiss.
Opening his eyes, Kazuya looked to Chaolan as the tears fell over the rim of his brothers eyes. Then, leaning over almost benevolently, his lips fell against Chaolans forehead. “Neither of us have been perfect. Your trespasses have been great, as have mine. Your betrayal has hurt me deep into my soul, Lee. I am not sure that I can forgive you. But if my heart can learn to love Jun Kazama, in time perhaps it can learn to forgive you. You will fight Heihachi and defeat him. The rest will fall into place from there.” Kazuya rose, leaving Chaolan on his knees.
In mid walk toward the door, Kazuya turned to look over his shoulder to his adopted brother. “Is she alright, Lee?”
Chaolan understood the question instantly, nodding his head softly as he brought a shaking hand up toward his tear stained eyes. “She is ill, but I am not sure if it is physical or perhaps...a sickness from her heart. Jun is going to see a doctor tomorrow morning thanks to Wulong, but I do not think she will be well enough to compete against one of your ‘Jacks’.”
There was a note of seriousness in Kazuya’s voice as he spoke. “Detective Wulong has been her knight in shining armor. A far better candidate for her heart than I have proven myself to be. He has honor.” He paused a moment, exhaling a self depreciating breath. “See to it that Jun does not compete even if the doctor deems her well enough to do so.”
“You said you love her, Kazuya. Then why torment her, and yourself this way. Do not throw happiness away with both hands. Let her into your heart...” Lee spoke to him from his very soul, evident in his careworn eyes.
“I already have, Lee. That is the problem. My love would be death for her. Devil would see to it. I can not bare the thought of the demon laying hands on her again, so I must set her free in order to save her, as she has saved me. Though we are not destined in this lifetime, perhaps we will have another, one where I will be free of the trappings from decisions I was forced to make so long ago. Though Jun Kazama might hate me from this day forward, I will love no other...place no other in my heart, for all the days of my life.” Kazuya opened the door, his trench coat and sunglasses in hand. Drawing them on slowly, he walked from the loft with a heavier heart than what he had come to Chaolan with. Forgiveness. Repentance. Love. Redemption. Words that never held weight in his vocabulary....never meant anything to Kazuya Mishima....until now.