Tekken Fan Fiction ❯ Ashes To Ashes ❯ The Touch Of A Child ( Chapter 2 )

With little Lee at school, and Heihachi at the office in town, Aiko had nothing to do with her day except sit at home and drink wine. After all, the servants did everything else. When at home, however, she was haunted by the memories of a little boy that once lived within the confines of the majestic mansion. She could hear his voice, that calm little voice, chattering in the distance as he muttered to himself over homework; she could hear his tiny footsteps up and down the stairs as he came back from school…and she could still hear his screams, faintly, way off in the family dojo as he sparred beneath his father's brutal hand.

Though the sounds were nothing but memories, deep within her mind, she still couldn't help but grow deeper and deeper into a depression she knew she'd never recover from. She could never put him aside. He had been a gift to her from the heavens; a woman, never to conceive a child, had given birth to a beautiful, intelligent son - against all doctor's beliefs. He had been a miracle. A miracle, put to death by his very creator.

Every time she thought of him, the tears threatened to break loose. Finally, it had built up within her to a point she could no longer tolerate. Today, she knew that she could take no more. It had to end.

Heihachi and the servants could look after Lee. The house would go on without her. After swallowing the remainder of the sweet, golden liquid within the ornate crystal glass before her, the stood, drew a breath, and crept toward the kitchen, almost as if she was scared to disturb the very tiles beneath her, let alone anyone else who may be in the house.

She fished through the top drawer in the kitchen cupboards for a moment, then found the tool of her choice. A long, yet elegant blade - normally used for slicing meat. This time, she would use it for a different kind of flesh.

It took a long time examining the knife before Aiko turned to stand over the kitchen sink, the blade angled over her thin porcelain wrist. With any luck, since it would be at least an hour before anyone got home, there was no risk of getting caught.

The blade touched her skin…but before she could apply any pressure, she heard something in the near distance. The sound of something falling. Someone was there!

She swallowed, and placed her weapon aside. "Lee? Is that you?" What was the boy doing home at this hour? After one year of being here, he had never skipped a day of school.

Silence.

Her hands trembled with anxiety as she left her knife and looked around the corner of the kitchen door. "Who's there?"

Another alien sound caught her ears. This time, the sound of small, bare feet on tiles. With her breath quickening, her heart rising in her throat, she whipped back around into the massive kitchen…and gasped.

Next to the knife, a small tanned hand sat palm-down. Its owner's dark obsidian eyes bored darkly into Aiko's accusingly. Her heart was fluttering at a speed she never thought possible. The tears came once more. Her thin, bony hands reached to touch her lips…a restrained sob escaped them.

The ghostly figure of the small boy was standing beside the bench-top, the small, round arm barely able to reach the knife on the counter-top. Yet he made every effort to let her know he knew what she was going to do. Reaching up a little further, he managed to grasp the lavishly decorated knife handle, and pull the dangerous tool downwards, admiring it in both tiny hands. The index finger of the unused hand ran over the sharp edge, and his wide yet fine raven brows rose in curiosity.

"This thing is sharp…"

Aiko's breath hitched in her throat, followed by a loud sob. Already, her cheeks were stained red with salty tear streaks. That familiar voice…the one that she'd ached to hear for three years now. The boy would have been eight soon…and here he stood, translucent and emitting a supernatural luminescence, his five-year-old's body completely intact, as if he'd never been harmed by anything.

His eyes trailed up to meet hers. "You were going to use this on yourself?" The look on his youthful face demanded an answer.

Aiko took a few seconds to half her uncontrollable cries, and bit her lip, making a brave attempt to smile. "I wanted to be with you, my son…I wanted nothing more than to be with you…"

Kazuya seemed unperturbed by the continuation of her sobs. As she fell to her knees, crying, looking up at him desperately, he walked slowly toward her, his tiny bare feet making not a sound, as if he weren't touching the floor at all. An open cupboard door in his path perturbed him even less. In fact, he walked straight through it as if he were nothing but a hallucination. This little trick wrenched even more devastated cries from Aiko.

He stopped only a foot in front of her, as she began weeping to the point she could barely breathe. She pulled her hands from her reddened, puffy eyes for a moment, only to see his stoic face before hers. She couldn't help but break down again. She could never hug her son again! He was a ghost - all he could do was haunt her, remind her of her worthlessness.

Or so she thought. After another half a minute, she forced back the garbled chokes, and looked up. He was kneeling before her, looking up at her intently, watching with child-like innocence and curiosity as she calmed herself. Before long she found herself staring into his dark eyes, those obsidian orbs…the endless abyss that lay within them. One of his small hands reached up toward her swollen cheek…the soft, cool skin made contact with Aiko's…the coldness bringing startling relief to her puffy flesh. It brought chills down her spine…it was as if he was alive.

"Don't cry, mommy…" His voice was nothing above a whisper. He reached out to gently grasp around her neck with his short, rounded arms. Hysterically, she hugged him bone-crushingly tight, kissing his cheeks, running her hands through his hair, sobbing against his tiny shoulder. His familiar smell…it filled her nose as she pressed it against his neck, clinging to his clothes, his tiny chest, his small arms. That delightful feel of his arms around her neck…she felt like…like a…mother…again.

It was endless minutes before she finally let the small boy go. As she did, he broke out into a tiny smile. "I'll always be with you, here…Okaasan…never forget…I'm always right…here…" He placed a small hand on the centre of her dress, and gave her a regal smile, holding his youthful head high. He tried to pull away, but Aiko reached out to grab his arm before he could.

Her hand went right through his flesh, and grabbed thin air. This wrenched a cry of dismay from her throat, followed by a sob of distraught. "No…"

He reached for the knife again. He'd placed it back on the countertop before he walked over to her. He took it in both hands, then pulled the draw open. Carefully, he placed it back in the knife compartment, held onto the drawer (which seemed miles into the air at his height) and looked back over his shoulder. "You shouldn't leave knives on the bench, Okaasan. Remember you told me that when I was younger? Someone could get hurt…remember?"

Meaningfully, he shut the draw with a bang, and leaned back against it casually. Aiko was hysterical at this point, wrought with guilt and hopelessness, depression and sorrow. She had her hands over her face, barely able to breathe through her sobs.

Kazuya took a little breath. "Don't cry Okaasan…don't forget…I'll always be with you…"

Sensing her calm down somewhat, the five-year-old smiled softly, turned…and dissipated.