Tekken Fan Fiction ❯ Canto ❯ Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

He stood nude in the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror that hung over the wash basin. Nearly an hour of showering and scouring himself clean in scalding hot water hadn't washed the feeling of disgust Kazuya had for himself, and though still dripping wet and shivering from cold, he gazed dully at himself, washed out from the pale, ghostly light of the fluorescent lighting in the room.

It reminded him of that night so many years ago. That night that was supposed to had been a rite of passage for Kazuya, but instead left him scarred physically and emotionally. Then, he had stood in the same place and in the same way, his prepubescent body bloodied and covered with scratches and wounds.

He could still feel the sharp rocks cutting the soles of his bare feet, and his fingertips being rubbed raw as he climbed and clawed desperately as wet sticky tears fell down his dirt caked cheeks. And the moment when he finally did pull himself up to where he was safe, Kazuya had just curled up on the bed of dead grass and wept to himself. His chest was throbbing with pain as the wound there rubbed against the thick fabric of his stained and ruined gi. He stayed there and cried himself to sleep that night.

When Kazuya awoke that next morning, the sun hadn't risen yet, and the sky was still a deep velvet violet. He sat up, chest still hurting, but the bleeding had stopped. It was then, he finally looked down at himself and what was done to him, as he carefully opened the shirt to his white gi.

He hadn't realized how large that gash was, as it cut jaggedly across his right breast and downward to just a few inches above his navel. It was still raw but not bleeding as much due to all the dirt and dried blood. The boy stared down at where he had been mutilated for the longest time, until he heard the morning's first bird begin singing brightly with the coming sunrise. He stood up slowly and painfully, and began to slowly make his way back to his home.

There wasn't anyone there when he got home, which meant that his father had left for the office, and his mother had taken his brother to the market that morning. And as he stumbled slowly through the house, a trail of blood followed him. He went straight to the bathroom on the second floor, and as he reached there, numbly began shedding his clothing until he was nude. He stared at the facet knobs on the wall in the tub for several minutes, before reaching over and turning on the hot water, then the shower nozzle above the tub. The boy then stepped in.

He just stood there and let the water run off of him, and the water swirling around his feet turned red and brown as all the filth on him ran off in little streams of steaming water. Finally, the boy grabbed a bar of soap and began scrubbing violently at every part of his body. The wound on his chest began to bleed again, however. Kazuya didn't pay any mind to that, though, and continued to wash himself until he finally just threw down his soap down in frustration and sat down in the corner of the tub. He drew his knees up to his chest and began sobbing again as he hugged his knees, water beating down on him and drowning out the sounds of his crying.

Almost an hour later, he finally tired himself out from weeping, and stood up. He turned off the water and stepped out of the tub carefully. His chest was still bleeding, but it didn't hurt as much as it had the night before. He limped slowly over to the basin and mirror, not paying mind to the mess he had left in the room at all. The profuse bleeding that came from his chest from the huge gash he had received as he had fallen that day had weakened the boy considerably, and he leaned over the basin and grasped its edges shakily. The white tiles of the floor and the bathtub were left smeared with blood, and its thick scent had filled the room. However, the only person that saw that room when it was in that state was Lee, and the little boy had only stared at his older brother in silence when he opened the bathroom door with a strange look of fear and awe on his face.

Today was no different, and Kazuya lifted his head as the bathroom door creaked open slowly , like it had ten years ago. And like then, Lee blinked once at his older brother, silent, and brought his brother out of his remembering and back into reality, and the younger boy entered the room and quietly latched the door shut behind him. He then stepped over to his brother and hugged him from behind, wrapping his arms around Kazuya's bare waist and resting his head on his brother's muscular back. Kazuya only responded with a shiver and dropped his head. The older Mishima brother squeezed his eyes shut as he felt hatred for his younger brother fill up in him. His shoulders tensed up and tightened, as did Lee's arms around his waist.

The only sounds in the room were the humming of the lights and the occasional heavy sigh from Kazuya as he waited for his brother to leave. However, the older boy would admit dimly to himself that he liked the nuzzling on his back, the occasional stroking against his stomach, and even just having another body pressed up against his so affectionately after the rather impersonal evening with Anna. It was just who was doing it that bothered him.

Lee had always been oddly physically attached to Kazuya like that. When they were just boys, the younger Mishima often would creep into his brother's room at night and climb into bed with him. That was something Kazuya never quite understood until he did finally see the bruises on his younger brother's limbs and torso. And the way that their father responded to the younger boy was rather cold; the boy had been adopted for show, publicity to make Heihachi look better in the eyes of the public. However, the little boy was either considered a nuisance or was ignored completely in private, especially after their mother passed away. And that left him starving for attention.

Kazuya couldn't count how many times Lee had ran away from home when they were growing up. Most of the time, he was brought back by Kazuya, who would go out to look for him after either becoming worried himself or when Lee called to be picked up. And it was often those nights after he had been brought home by his older brother that the younger boy would crawl into bed next to Kazuya and cling to him, burying his face into the other's chest as he softly cried himself to sleep. Kazuya had never known how to respond to that and always kept his hands to rigidly to his sides. Even after Lee had long stopped sneaking into his room, Kazuya knew that the younger boy still had problems sleeping at night and would wander the house at night or just sit out in the dojo until sunrise. Even so, that didn't keep the older boy from feeling uncomfortable and even resentful at the concern Lee was showing with almost the passion of a worried lover at the moment.

Kazuya kept his head down, "I'd like to be alone right now." He felt Lee's hair brush up against and tickle his skin as the younger Mishima pulled away completely, without making a sound. The older boy only looked up when he heard the door latch shut again to the mirror in front of him. However, when he saw his reflection, two glowing red eyes wearily peered back at him. He jumped back, startled, and blinked, but when he looked back into the mirror, he saw his own dark frightened eyes staring back at him. He closed his eyes in fear and reopened them. His eyes were still dark brown, though now wild and fearful. He then quickly grabbed his bathrobe and threw it on. After that, he shut off the light and hastily left to head down stairs.

There were no lights on, except for the kitchen light, and Kazuya emerged from the living room and into the kitchen where Lee sat alone with a cigarette dangling from his mouth unlit. The younger boy glanced up at his older brother, who stood in the doorway with his robe open and watching quietly, then back forward to concentrate on lighting his smoke, his face unreadable. He stayed silent and leaned back in his chair, propping his bare feet up on the kitchen table and kept his gaze forward and away from Kazuya's. The older boy frowned.

He remembered that evening after he had returned from those hills beyond their home, Kazuya came back into the bathroom, clad in only a clean robe and bandages, after being tended to by their mother, only to see his brother on his knees, scrubbing away at all the blood on the floor. The twelve year old was shirtless, his blue jeans rolled up to just below his knees, and he worked vigorously. He had only stopped to look up at his older brother and smiled slightly, then went back to cleaning. In response, Kazuya had said nothing but leaned in the doorway and watched the entire time. It was also then that the older boy noticed the little strands of grey scattered in his brother's dark brown hair.

Kazuya blinked, entered the kitchen finally, and sat down next to Lee, who didn't respond and continued to smoke in silence.

"Lee, I'm sorry," Kazuya began softly, "I know, you were just trying to help." He kept his eyes on the silver haired boy and waited for a reply.

Lee pulled the cigarette from his mouth and let out a harsh chuckle, "You never call me Lee." In the dim lighting, Kazuya could see his brother's eyes watering up, though his face was still placid. The younger Mishima was silent again and took a long drag from his smoke. Kazuya let out a long sigh and looked away from his brother, not sure how to answer.

"Chaolan?" There wasn't an answer from the boy, however he closed his eyes and let out an angry huff. Kazuya bowed his head and stood up. "Good night."

As he left the room and entered the living room, he glanced back; Lee still was looking out forward, his arms crossed as he reclined. His cigarette hung delicately between his fore and middle fingers. The older boy shook his head once and turned back around to go up the stairs.

After he entered his bedroom, he didn't bother to get put on his bed clothes but flung himself on his bed immediately, back first. It wasn't until he was in bed that he realized how tired he was, his eyes growing heavy as he stared up at the ceiling. Before long, he found himself drifting to sleep.

He dreamt of himself falling into blackness, his body limp like he was dead as he fell further and further away from light. The only sounds he could hear were of his childhood, pleasant sounds of Lee and he laughing as children, his mother singing Japanese lullabies, the sounds of the morning birds announcing daybreak... And all those sounds became fainter and fainter until they completely faded away, as he plunged into the never ending dark. And Kazuya, like his happy memories, were swallowed by the void.