Tekken Fan Fiction ❯ Canto ❯ Chapter 5

Chapter Five

It was unusually bright and hot that day, and the birds that normally were out flying about and singing were silent. Occasionally, the sounds of tires over gravel would mar the suffocating quiet outside Mao's den window, but mostly silence.

It bothered him. The only noise he could hear was the ringing in his ears as he worked and shuffled the papers around on his little desk. Even his children were unusually quiet today, no sounds of his two older girls playing or his youngest crying. He strained his ears for a bit, hoping to hear some kind of life.

Still silent. Mao sighed heavily and stood up. Perhaps it was time for a break. He stretched and yawned, then trotted over to the door that stood ajar. He slipped out it, and cautiously crept down the little hallway that lead to the family room. He then peeked around the corner and smiled to himself. There were all three of his little girls seated in front of the television, watching cartoons. Of course, it was too hot to go outside today. He glanced over to the side and saw his father and his mother-in-law playing chess at the dining room table. He chuckled to himself as he saw that his father was wearing his little satin beanie, despite the weather outside. And finally, he heard the facet running in the kitchen, meaning his wife was in there.

Everything was fine. At least it seemed that way. However, Mao felt a terrible gnawing in his stomach as he watched the scene before him. It was like looking at a faded photograph, a frozen moment in time. And it felt like he was looking at it for the last time. He sighed heavily and turned to go back to work.

For several hours, he worked nonstop yet distractedly, jumping at the sound of every car that passed his home. He couldn't figure out why he was so nervous that day; everything was fine. His hands trembled as he wrote down the week's numbers into his books. He glanced up at the wall in front of his desk at a small gold pendant that hung there like a trophy. Mao shook his head and went back to working.

He lifted his head again when he heard another car drive past, this time, however, pulling up into the driveway. He thought nothing of it, though, and went back to work.

The doorbell rang, and he heard the voice of his second oldest proudly announcing, "I'll get it!" and the pattering of her bare feet as she ran to the door. It opened, then silence again. For several minutes, Mao sat unmovingly until he heard voices, quiet calm voices. He stood up and left his den, again carefully moving down the hall until he stood in the same place he had earlier that day. his hands began shaking violently at what he saw.

His daughter sat on the lap of a middle-aged man wearing a black suit, a black leather trench coat, and driving gloves, regardless of the obscenely hot weather outside. He was speaking in a rather friendly voice to her, fatherly even, and bounced her on his knee. The little girl smiled and nodded at what was being asked of her, though Mao couldn't make out what he was saying. He recognized that face though, that man that had intruded his home. His oldest girl sat near the well-dressed man, holding her youngest sister who was crying at the moment.

"Oh, Elizabeth, I'll get her," a voice from the kitchen sighed, then Mao's wife appeared. She leaned over the best she could as her daughter stood up and handed her the crying toddler.

Helen was her name. She was beautiful, with long dark brown hair that came to her waist and a perfectly sculpted face, her cheeks well defined and rosying over her olive colored skin. She was pregnant and barefoot, and she wore a denim sleeveless maternity gown, and as she plucked the little girl in from Elizabeth's arms, she leaned back and with one hand, rubbed the small of her aching back. Helen then turned her attention to the man that sat with her daughter.

"Michelle seems to like you," she smiled weakly as she shifted her weight to better cradle the little girl she held with her free arm. "She doesn't take well to strangers."

"Ah, it's probably because I have children myself," the man chuckled as he patted the head of the girl sitting on his knee.

"Oh really?"

He nodded once, "Two boys. Both around the same age as this little one." He grinned and gently picked Michelle off of his knee and placed her on the ground. "My wife and I want a little girl someday."

"Mao wants a boy," Helen smiled again. "But the way things are looking, he's going to get another girl."

"Speaking of Mao, I came to see him about business."

Helen nodded once and shifted her weight again, "I figured that." She nodded once at the man, and he stood up, "He's in the den. I'll show you where it is."

"Don't bother," Mao finally spoke up as he walked into the room. Helen turned her head at her husband's voice and smiled discreetly at him. He looked past her at the other man that stood up at the sound of Mao's voice.

"There you are," the man noted in a friendly and thoughtful manner. He strolled over to where Mao stood and offered his hand to shake. Mao stared down at it.

"What do you want, Heihachi?"

The man frowned and his face darkened, "I think you know why I'm here." He glanced back at Mao's family, all of which stared blankly at the two men, excluding Mao's father, whose mouth was drawn down into a tight frown. The old man's eyes began to fill with sorrow as he gazed dully at his son.

"Shall we discuss this outside?" Heihachi added pleasantly.

"Yes." The well-dressed man nodded once and followed Mao as he strolled to the front door and pulled it open. As Heihachi slipped out the door, he carefully latched the door shut behind him.

Outside, the Mishima's demeanor changed drastically, and his friendly face morphed into a stony face. His mouth dropped into a frown, and he kept his gaze forward toward the horizon beyond the road he had traveled in as the two of them walked toward Heihachi's black sedan.

"Your family and home are quite charming," he began quietly as he tugged at the leather gloves he was wearing. He stopped walking as they reached the car.

Mao blinked, "Thank...you."

"No, I mean it." Heihachi's face was still unreadable, "It's nice to know that you're not dead, Drew." Mao cringed. It had been twelve years since anyone had called him by his real name. Even his father had gotten used to calling him Mao.

"Heihachi....why are you here?"

"I came back to get what you stole from me." He smiled and turned his attention back to Mao. "So, will you give it back to me?"

"I can't do that," the other man replied weakly. "You know that."

Heihachi frowned, "Oh, no. That's not the answer I wanted to hear, Drew." He looked away at his car and at the dark reflection of himself that stared back, warped and morphed from the curves that shaped the car. He placed a gloved hand on the roof of the car, his gaze still fixated on his reflection.

"Drew, let me ask you something," he began again. "What made you think that you could just take what was mine?" He stepped away, his eyes still forward as his hand pulled off the car and slipped into his trench coat. Mao felt his heart racing, and the ringing in his ears amplified to a deafening level. "Besides, you had to known that I would had found you here."

Mao began to slowly back away from Heihachi before fully turning around and running toward the house. In one smooth motion, the other man pulled a gun from his coat and shot Mao in the leg. Crying out in pain, Mao stumbled onto the ground and began trying to crawl his way to the house as Heihachi calmly strolled up to the desperate man, and shot him again, this time in the stomach. Mao coughed up blood and grabbed his stomach with his trembling hands, unable to move any closer to his home because of the incredible pain he was in. The front door opened, and Helen stepped out. She screamed as she saw her bleeding husband and ran towards him. She dropped to the ground and threw her arms around him, crying out in a language that neither Mao nor Heihachi could understand. Her face contorted with angst and tears as she rocked her husband.

"Oh, God, please no!" she sobbed repeatedly. Mao sputtered up blood again as the other man towered over him, carefully aiming his gun at Mao's head.

"You know," Heihachi said quietly, "No one leaves the Zaibatsu without my blessing." He cocked the gun once and reaimed it. "I can finally give you that."

Helen looked up as she stroked her husband's hair, her face puffy and tear streaked, "Please, don't," she pleaded in a shaky whisper.

"Godspeed," Heihachi smiled. Helen covered her ears and screamed as he pulled the trigger.

The entire time, Michelle had been sitting on the porch, watching with indifference.

That was thirteen years ago, and now the Chang household had an entirely different air. Helen was in the kitchen, mixing up bread batter in a huge clay-mixing bowl. Underneath her eyes were heavy bags, showing how much she had aged since then from fatigue and trauma. Her mother, Crow Ghost, sat unmovingly at the dining room table, a beautifully embroidered black yarn shawl thrown across her shoulders. Her face was scrunched up as she concentrated on the ongoing game of chess that she and Wang had been playing for the past two days. The old man sitting across from her stroked the little white beard he had then pulled off his satin beanie off of his bald head; it was too warm to be wearing that today. He then grinned and moved a black rook to take over the white knight that stood in the way. The older woman frowned and shook her head. She then glanced back into the kitchen.

"The little ones aren't up yet," the old woman noted. Helen nodded and continued mixing in silence. She then stopped, only to go to the cabinet for a bottle of vanilla extract.

"It's Saturday, they can sleep in," Helen finally replied quietly. "Besides, they're nearly adults now. I can't keep telling them what to do." She dumped a cap full of vanilla in the bowl and began mixing again.

"I suppose so," Crow Ghost chuckled softly. "It's just such a nice day. It's a waste to spend half of it asleep." She turned back to her game and moved her pawn out.

Down the hall, Michelle was in the shower. She still reeked of cigarette smoke from the previous night and was trying to wash it from her hair. Plus, she could hear her sister banging on the bathroom door, but pretended not to hear her.

"Dammit, Michelle!" Gabby yelled as she pounded, "You've been in there forever! I want to brush my teeth!" Michelle rolled her eyes and continued to shampoo her hair.

Too bad, she thought to herself. When Liz was still living here, I had to put up with it. You can live.

"I know you can hear me!"

"Go use the other bathroom!" Michelle finally called back. "I'm washing my hair!" Gabby threw up her hands in disgust and marched down the hall into the breakfast room where everyone else sat. The older Chang girl sighed with relief and went back to showering.

As she rinsed and relathered her hair, she went over the events from last night in her head. It just seemed so strange to finally see a Mishima again after all those years. And not being able to be angry with him, despite the hatred she held toward Heihachi. She frowned and closed her eyes as she massaged her scalp again. And why did he have to be so damned good-looking to top it off? Her hands dropped to her sides as she cranked her neck underneath the shower nozzle to rinse her hair again. He did have such a nice smile, nicer than Paul's.... Her eyes whipped opened as that thought crossed her mind.

"No," she chuckled to herself. "I love Paul, and that's that. Besides, he's a Mishima." She frowned to herself as she said that. Even Paul had a beef against that family, though it was much more petty than her own reasons. But still, Kazuya wasn't Heihachi, right? She sighed heavily and turned her head to the side to let the water rinse away the suds on that that side. She shuddered lightly and began running her fingers through her hair. She could still smell the smoke faintly underneath the botanical fragrance of her shampoo. It would have to do for now.

Michelle emerged from the bathroom in her red terry cloth robe and entered the breakfast room.

She sang at Gabby, who sat in front of the television, "You can have the bathroom, Gabriel." The younger Chang turned her head and stuck out her tongue. She then jumped up and whizzed past her older sister. The two elderly people at the table chuckled at each other then went back to their game. Helen, however came out of the kitchen, frowning.

"Michelle," she began as she reached her daughter, "Don't do that to your sister."

"Sorry," the girl shrugged. "Really, she could had brushed her teeth in the other bathroom."

"A thirty minute shower though?" Her mother shook her head and placed her hands on her hips.

Crow Ghost chuckled, "Oh, let her be. Michelle's at that age where she has to look nice for all the boys."

"Don't remind me," Helen sighed lightly. She gave Michelle a weak grin, "Just...be more considerate of your sister. Okay, sweetie?"

Michelle nodded and turned back to head into her bedroom.