Tekken Fan Fiction ❯ Illusions ❯ Creative Liberties On The Word 'Freedom' ( Chapter 4 )

Boring, boring, boring.

The lines of lettering scrawled across the page in Times font formed monotonous, over-perfect paragraphs before Keiji's eyes, and slowly but surely, the bright amber orbs began to fall closed. After a moment, his forehead hit his homework with a light thud, and soft snores filled the orange-hued room.

A brightly-coloured bird landed on a branch outside his bedroom window, singing a cheerful twilight tune as the sun crawled languidly over the hills in the distance, venturing toward night. Its high-pitched call continued for a while before the young boy's eyes opened again as the noise awoke him from his short nap. A warm, floral gust of wind whipped through the open window at the head of his desk, ruffling some of the dark feathers on his drooping wings - the breeze brought a last burst of energy to his worn, bored mind, and he picked up his pen again, and began to write on the pad of lined paper beneath his small right hand.

One thing he always hated about the fourth grade was the focus on Heaven's history. Sure, Earth was a lot of fun - they had wars and disasters and exciting stuff - but here in Heaven, everything was a drag. Monotony, peace, harmony and non-judgemental frames of mind were all that existed. The Demon within him longed for something more exciting. Ever since he'd met his father four years ago, he'd been fascinated by what was on the other side of The Boundary.

A moment after he finally finished answering all the questions required of him, he heard a familiar, sweet voice calling to him from the other end of the house. Following it was the delicious smell of a freshly cooked meal. Smiling and almost bursting with relief from the torture of history homework, Keiji leaped up off his seat and bounded down to the kitchen.

He sat down in his seat at one end of the wooden table, politely awaiting his meal. His mother, beautiful as ever, gracefully placed down several dishes of food, each of which were previously balanced perfectly upon her creamy, slender arms. Barely able to wait for her to sit down herself, he thanked her warmly for yet another delicious dinner, and reached across to get himself some of the noodles sitting on a plate, and following that, a generous serving of the stir-fry. He also grabbed a small plate of sashimi that Mitsukai had prepared for him, and dug straight into it with plenty of soy and wasabi. He had no idea why he liked it so much, since his mother wasn't so much a fan. Maybe his father liked it too.

The meal was a reasonably silent one that evening, but Mitsukai could tell that he was enjoying his food. Often, they didn't need to talk to share their affection for each other, they only needed to smile. As they both finished their meals, Mitsukai tidied up the plates, and Keiji bounced up to carry the cutlery into the kitchen for her. He'd always loved helping his mom, and though part of his nine-year-old mind was telling him that helping parents was dorky, he refused to acknowledge it.

As everything was cleared away, Keiji was about to head back to his room. Before he did, he found a bowl of ice cream being wafted under his nose…he stopped dead, and turned around, smiling excitedly at his mother.

"Would you like some, Keiji?" That soft, purring voice got him even more excited about the idea.

"Yes, I'd love some! Domo arigatou, Okaasan!"

She placed the bowl in the boy's hands, and he raced off to his room happily with his treat, after of course, giving her a kiss on the cheek. As he disappeared, Mitsukai sat down on a chair and watched as the sun finally disappeared over the distant hills, leaving a trail of tiny stars upon a stark ultramarine sky. Her life was so comfortable at the moment - she hadn't been needed to work for the last decade or so, and had been able to fully dedicate her time to her only son. But as of late, since he'd been more and more heavily involved in school, she found herself becoming rather bored. She longed to be back at work on Earth again, or at least doing errands around the Gates…anything.

***

It had finally gotten to him. He had finally allowed his curiosity and urge for excitement get to him to the point he could take it no more.

Quickly, he threw a few things into his bag - clothes, today's uneaten lunch, a pencil case - and wrote a hasty note. He left the note on his bed, and climbed silently out the window into the darkness.

To avoid attracting attention, he walked before the house eventually disappeared from sight. His dark pants, black wings, raven hair and deep blue t-shirt helped him to blend into the darkness of the forest. No dangers existed here - it was perfectly alright for him to venture out fearlessly. Animals, after all, never attacked angels. If there were any danger, it would be from the humans, who always seemed to be unpredictable. Yet, he knew that most of them around here were just as harmless. The 'good' ones were sent here after all.

When he was a good few miles away from home, he finally took to the air, leaving behind him a small number of black feathers drifting down to the lightless ground below. The silver moonlight shone upon his small body, but he still didn't stand out particularly much, since the forest around here wasn't heavily populated by any means. His dark wings carried him along on the warm evening breeze - nowhere near as fast as his mother could have flown, but it was a decent speed for a mere child.

Below him, the forest canopy grew a little thinner, and he saw a beaten path winding its way south beneath the moonlight. It had been some time since he'd taken off and his little wings were beginning to feel fatigued. Silently, he swooped down to the forest floor and landed, folding his raven wings behind him. Again, he continued on his journey south.

The small, bare feet made almost no sound on the dirt track - the only sound was that of an owl's intermittent hoot, and the merry chirping of summer crickets and cicadas. He knew the boundary was a way away yet; probably another hour's flying and half an hour's walking at his young pace.

After a quarter of an hour more, he felt a chill. Somehow, he felt as if someone was watching him. As if someone was following him. With his nerves being slightly rattled, he continued on, his senses reaching a peak, staying aware of any danger the young paranoid mind they were controlled by may conceive. He slowed his pace, watching every single shadow that was cast upon the ground before him - none of them moved. Just when he finally thought that perhaps he was safe, he heard a rustle behind him.

Reaching a state of panic, he whipped around. Before him stood a tall figure; much of it was obscured by giant wings, and since the moon was shining brightly behind whoever it was, he could see nothing but a silhouette. What he saw was definitely male, and the silhouette of the man's hair was sickeningly familiar…it resembled his own frighteningly.

"Keiji, what are you doing here?" The deep, masculine voice sounded even more familiar, and along with that, it didn't sound too impressed.

The boy stepped closer. He knew it was his father; no one else had hair like that, or a voice like that. But what was his dad doing on this side of the Boundary?

The man crouched down in front of him as he approached. With the moonlight no longer obscuring his vision, Keiji saw who it was. Shocked, he stumbled back. His voice became lost in the fear that had suddenly developed in his chest, and he held his breath and tears back.

The being looked so much like his father it wasn't funny - only, his skin was most definitely a medium olive tan, rather than that strong purple he'd come to long for so much. The hair was the same, only slightly less wild, and the eyes and eyebrows were identical - except that, instead of the bright gold he'd inherited from his father, they were a deep ebony. This man was a perfect replica of his father - only, he was an angel.

Again, he heard that deep voice. "It's alright, don't be frightened." This time, however, the voice was more passive, almost soothing. Such a deep voice almost seemed beautiful; it suited the black and silver of the night.

His breath hitched softly as he tried to find his voice. Eventually, it came. "You look just like my Otousan…"

The angel formed upon his lips what might have been a vague smile. He held out a large but slender hand. "There's a reason behind that." He grasped Keiji's hand as it was offered, and pulled the boy back to his feet. "How about I tell you on the way home - you're mother's worried sick about you."

He pulled his hand back and shook his head. "No, I don't want to go home yet…I want to see my father!"

Patiently, the angel continued. "You would rather venture into a realm of danger than return home to warm arms?"

Keiji shook his head. "I love my Okaasan, but I miss my Otousan…I want to see him again. I don't want to go home till I see him again!" He drew a deep breath, and let it out as he turned his face away. "I miss him."

This disobedience and loyalty to a parent he never knew had obviously struck the enigmatic angel as quite unusual, and it seemed to ruin whatever plan he had. Something struck Keiji as odd as the two stayed in silence.

"Hey…how did you know I went out anyway?"

The angel's dark eyes locked on Keiji's. "When your mother went into your room to check on you, all she found was your little note. She immediately knew you were going to find your father - and she was well aware of how dangerous it is over there. She was worried to say the very least…she found me and asked me to try and find you."

He frowned slightly. "But I don't even know you."

"But I know your mother and father very, very well. In fact, even better than you know the both of them put together." He looked down at the dirt path a moment, then sat down in the middle of it, resting his elbows across his knees. All he wore was a pair of white Gi trousers and a black belt with a gold strip down both sides of it - the rest of him was bare. Keiji couldn't help but notice that he had the exact same scar as his father had across the middle of his chest.

"They worked with me in the distant past, you might say. Well over ten years ago. I've known them since I was very, very young. So though I may have never met you in the past, I knew of your existence, and I was the first one your mother turned to in this little event." Keiji's curiosity began to egg him on again. "I also know your father a lot more than your mother, and I can safely say he's not going to be impressed with you suddenly appearing like this. He has a tendency to be rather over-protective of things he holds of great importance."

Keiji whined, though he hadn't intended to. "But I wanna…"

The angel cut him off again. "I know you miss him and want to see him again, but you could have picked a more appropriate time! Your mother is very worried about you."

It was more or less the harsh tone in the deep, powerful voice that stopped him from complaining further. Like his father, this man had an ornate ability to make others listen to him, and he seemed to use it very well so far. Keiji sighed, and looked down at the ground. "But what if you took me to see him? You're big and strong and stuff…'sides, you can take me back home when we're done anyway, and nothing will go wrong…"

Yes, the boy had definitely inherited that Mishima ability to negotiate, even at this young age. He smiled. "Alright, Keiji. I'll take you to see him…but we come back tonight, so your mother doesn't have a hernia…" He stood and brushed off his Gi pants, and Keiji's wings fluttered a little behind him in excitement. He could barely wipe the grin off his face. Since it was late and Keiji was most definitely growing tired, the angel held out his arms to pick him up and carry him the rest of the way.

The massive, truly massive white wings opened up behind the angel and Keiji hopped up into his arms. "What's your name, by the way?" Keiji asked as the angel took to the sky with an odd power the boy had never experienced when flying with someone else in the past.

Keiji clung on tightly as they both climbed high into the cooling night air, and awaited his answer. Finally it came after a few seconds. "Kazuya Mishima."

He thought for a moment, and held onto the man's bare shoulder. He could feel the hard, dangerously powerful muscle beneath the warm skin, and the smell that eventually met his nose was so familiar - he'd noticed the same smell on his father when he'd hugged him so frequently when they last met. It wasn't unpleasant in any way, it was just distinctive. His mother would have called it 'masculine'…whatever that meant. And that name - Kazuya - it sounded familiar too. Maybe his mother had mentioned it in the past a few times.

"Are you ready for a fast trip, Keiji?"

Kazuya's gaze was met with those unnervingly bright eyes. "Yeah. My Okaasan flies fast usually." He began to wonder though - Kazuya's wings were so very much larger than his mother's. They could probably make him go a hell of a lot faster, and a lot further. And he needn't even think of the muscle he could feel against his clammy little hands. He began to get a little nervous.

This man was obviously not someone who would take things slowly; indeed, he said 'fast' ride for a reason. Keiji found himself clinging to him for grim death as he took off south again. The air was rushing by so fast it was almost frightening, and he could barely hold on. Thankfully, he had strong arms holding him in place for the suddenly much shorter journey to Hell.

***

"Get back down, you fucking bastard, before I break your neck and send you back to the beginning of the damn line!"

Akuma, with the help of another demon, was making an effort to restrain one particularly rowdy and disgruntled new addition to the swelling numbers of humans in Hell. It was becoming particularly crowded in the central city by how, and a new, modern city was being built closer to The Boundary, for those that had proven themselves to have 'good' within them and had been here for some time.

"Get your hands off me, you revolting piece of shit!" This particular human - fat, hairy, and a definite criminal - was not impressed with being told what to do. That's why the jail system had found him too difficult to handle, and his death penalty had come as a relief to even his fellow inmates.

Akuma, losing his patience, wrenched the man's arm back behind him, and promptly dislocated his shoulder with a sharp, sickening crack. His pointed ears were particularly sensitive to the shrill cry that followed, and almost lost his grip on the struggling human as he winced in pain.

"That's enough of that!" He forced the agonised human to the ground, who could do nothing but submit to the superior strength and power. Once he'd stopped struggling, Akuma leaned down and talked in the man's ear, still not letting go. "Oh, and don't worry about your arm. It'll heal in good time, since you're dead. But I warn you," he smirked almost sadistically as he added, "If you struggle again, I'll dislocate your other arm…then I'll break your legs, one after the other…and if you still resist, then I'll break your neck and drag you along by your ears."

The hardened criminal shot a few more insults at the frustrated demon…only to have Akuma's clawed foot press painfully against the wounded shoulder, reducing the utterances to incoherent screams of absolute agony. The other demon had returned to his post, since it was clear that Akuma was handling the situation beautifully. After letting the man suffer for a few more seconds, e dragged him to his feet by his good arm, and wrenched him harshly toward the head of the line - intending to have him registered and placed within a little faster than the others…who had seen the ordeal, and had piped down in the queue.

A few minutes later, after having delivered the criminal to the care of his colleagues, Akuma sighed and sat down on a rock a little way away from the workplace. After all, he hadn't been on duty at the time, he was actually called to assist when the man and a few of his buddies broke free and tried to wreak a little havoc on their new home. He'd been passing by out of boredom, and didn't intend to join in, since he'd been working non-stop all day and was exhausted.

He sat, watching the line inch forwards slowly. Since nothing was happening much, what happened next was completely unexpected. A shrill cry caught his ear…and in the next second, something hit him in the stomach and knocked him backwards.

When he looked down, he saw none other than his son clinging to his midriff, grinning at him excitedly. He'd grown a lot over the last four years, it was easy to tell; awestruck, Akuma reached down, pulled the boy up, and hugged him possessively. After a moment, however, he felt compelled to ask the question:

"Keiji…what the hell are you doing here?"

He got nothing but a muffled, incoherent mumble in reply, and felt the boy's arms tighten around his neck. He looked up to see where he'd come from…and saw someone standing there he thought - and hoped - he'd never see again.