Tekken Fan Fiction ❯ Jakunen Mirai ❯ Discovery ( Chapter 14 )

Images of the last moments flew before his eyes in a haze, a crimson haze, the hatred and violence so thick, so choking, he could barely stand it a second longer. Three rivals, all in one place, all affirming that very rivalry with ravenous passion, starving for each other's blood. The worst part of it was that they were all family.

He took a swipe at the old man, that old bastard, but missed. The old man was fast. Too fast. A second later, he felt a fist driving into his stomach. He couldn't breathe. As he collapsed to the ground, a choked, deep moan escaped his lips…and he crumpled to the wooden floor, clutching his stomach with all his might. He felt as though he'd die.

Not surprisingly, the battle continued on without him, between the other two. After all, though they were all out for 'revenge', two had made a very, very temporary alliance for the sole purpose of eliminating the old man. His ally was doing his job, using moves none but he had seen himself, keeping the old man on his toes. It seemed Heihachi was the only one that hadn't been training up.

Slowly, surely, the pain ebbed, and he found his breath. While the two were distracted, he rose to his feet, only barely being able to stay on both feet - let alone stand tall and straight - and waited for an opportunity to leap in once more.

The battle raged on for seemingly eternity - violent, bloodthirsty attacks being launched from one to another…and even between the two allies. They were attempting to wear each other down, though one was making a more concerted effort than the other. It was clear who was more favourable of the alliance.

However, it was even clearer who was the best fighter of them all. The old man, the two had feared, was strong. But he wasn't strong enough; in fact, the father-son alliance was almost unnecessary. One warrior was just so much faster, stronger, more agile than the others, and he was fighting alone.

By now, the other had been weakened by the battle. The old man had focussed on him rather than his ally. He knew he was weaker, and planned to pick him out of the foray, to give himself a chance. And it had worked.

Then, the lights went out.

The last thing he could remember was a brutal, searing attack hitting him in the stomach, the cold, hard floor rushing up toward him, hitting him, smattering him across itself, and the sound of his own scream.

***

And now here he was. Through the blackness, he could hear murmurs about him, the faint bleeping and whining of hospital equipment, the scuffle of shoes upon a linoleum floor. He heard his name in a whisper. His eyes did not want to open.

However, he forced them, and tried to force the stench of disinfectant from his nose. The image that met his eyes was blurry; it seemed there was nothing but white - for a moment - then a darker patch entered his field of vision. The blurriness faded, sharpened; the black blob became a face. He gasped.

The words didn't want to come. His lips fumbled with them, forced them from the tip of his tongue, but still they got lost in the wilderness of confusion, surprise, hatred, and bafflement.

Finally, they came, as the face before him relaxed. There was still, however, surprise evident in the older male's face, laced with fear and wonder alike. Those two scars, one across each cheek, were so startlingly familiar that he didn't even have to think of the name before it passed his lips, finally, and entered the sterile atmosphere of the hospital ward with a deep whisper.

"Father?"

The older man's expression softened. "Jin."

His heart fluttered in his chest. He was expecting a cold reception from the man as soon as he laid eyes on him, but the way his name came, the way it was said - though it seemed emotionless, he could tell, from past experience with Kazuya's manner, that it was a warm, almost caring welcome back into the world of the living. Though in the recent past he'd thought of nothing but revenge for this man, his own father…it now seemed he was indeed the latter…more of a father than an opponent to destroy. It was the look in his obsidian eyes that gave the silent, restrained affection away. The look was too relieved, too tender, too proud…to be anything but a father's expression at discovering his son to still be alive.

Jin remembered the alliance the two had forged in an effort to eliminate Heihachi. By now, he figured, Kazuya was the CEO of the Zaibatsu. He was in hospital after all…he was obviously knocked out or something to that effect. He was still alive…if Kazuya was the evil man Heihachi had made him out to be, then he would be the only Mishima alive today. Yet Jin, too, was alive and fairly well.

He finally took the initiative to sit up and ask the big question:

"Where am I? What happened?"

Kazuya stood back, resting one hand on the edge of Jin's bed. "You're in G-Corporation's San Francisco med-lab. As for what happened, that's a much longer story."

Jin winced as he discovered how weak his muscles had become. Just how long had he been lying on this bed doing nothing? "Tell it."

Kazuya too came close to wincing at the cold demand. So far, there had been no affection from the boy. Why was he wasting his time with someone who wouldn't even give him the time of day? Because he is all he has left, that's why. He spared no more wasted time thinking about it, he simply began to tell Jin what happened, and why he was here, as briefly as he could.

"The fight that ensued between the two of us and Heihachi was more brutal than you'd imagine. You've been here for the last six months, barely alive, in a comatose state - the old bastard did you some serious damage. He himself is long gone. I won the Zaibatsu by default, since there was no one else to take it." He paused, waiting for what little he'd told to sink in. "I thought I was the only one alive. I thought you were lost in that battle too, along with the Old Man…until I found you here."

He shifted beneath the covers slightly…there were all sorts of tubes attached to him…including one where no tube had gone before. He blushed when he realised it was there…down south. "If I've been out for six months…half a damn year…then why didn't you know sooner?" He sounded vaguely disappointed.

The older man sighed softly and leaned against the bed a little more. "They only just realised who you were. Up until a week ago or so, you were just another John Doe, since you have hardy any records of existence at all. When they discovered who you where, this base was actually attacked by terrorists, since they either discovered you were related to me or had confused the two of us - there are those who wish me dead almost as much as Heihachi did. I only heard about it when someone had mistaken you for me, and was surprised to find me still alive and nowhere near America."

Great, Jin thought, I've missed out on half a year of life and twice as much action as that…

Before either of them could continue, Jin found himself completely engulfed by hospital staff, rushing toward him, surrounding the bed, and tinkering with him endlessly. They asked him a million times how he felt whilst disconnecting him from the many cords, contraptions and tubes that tied him to the bed. Kazuya was literally pushed aside and left standing, watching in bewilderment from a distance.

"Whoa, don't go down…hey, that's not yours…hey!" Jin's startled voice rose over the din of nurses and doctors and their incessant babbles…someone had removed the catheter from down 'there'.

This fussing continued for at least another half an hour, during which Kazuya had found himself a seat only a little way away from the action, but far enough to keep himself out of the way. Finally, the last nurse scampered off, leaving Jin sitting beneath a fresh layer of linen, dressed in a fresh set of blue hospital standard-edition…pyjamas.

Kazuya snickered only barely audibly at the sight, and Jin blushed. He still felt a little violated after that young nurse had extracted that pipe from a very, very private region. He sighed. "Apparently I'm going to be just fine, and I'm free to go."

"That's good to hear."

He felt a little disappointed, though he knew he should have been. He'd wanted a less emotional response for that one…okay, hell, he could have done with at least a hug or a smile…but he knew he wouldn't get it from him. Oh how he wanted a real father.

"I don't know where I'm going to go…"

Kazuya swung one leg over the other casually and leaned back in the rickety little chair he'd acquired. "Well, you could always go back to Brisbane. You do have an apartment back there after all. Then again, you could stay here…though it'll be hell trying to get a visa for America. You can go anywhere you want, really. Even back home to Japan…"

He shrugged. "I don't know about Japan. It brings back too many memories. Besides…I don't know if my mother's home is still there…"

With that hint of rejection, and the impatient iciness in Jin's voice, Kazuya got the idea. He stood, and prepared to leave. "Well, wherever you go, don't forget that I'll always have a door open to you…"

What was he thinking? Kazuya was a real father! He was simply reacting to the definite coldness in Jin's veneer. Suddenly, it came clear to him. As he watched his father go, he realised the true nature of their family. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it earlier. Why hadn't he trusted his mother's instinct? Heihachi had been telling lies, black lies, when he'd told him of how evil and pathetic Kazuya was. Mother had never spoken of him, because it hurt her. She kept those old photos hidden away…because it hurt her. It hurt her to know that she couldn't save him. Kazuya had 'died' at the hands of his own father, the one that had beaten and betrayed him. It didn't even take an idiot to imagine that Kazuya had led a childhood of abuse and neglect - and Jun had saved him. She loved him. That's why she cried herself to sleep when Jin was so young. Because she didn't really save him. Not entirely. She failed, because he was dead.

Suddenly, Jin felt guilty…so very guilty. It was so obvious now. Since he'd had such a terrible childhood, all Kazuya wanted to do was make sure his only son didn't have the same experience. He didn't know how to be a 'real' father, a 'good' father - but he was willing to try. If Jin's original prediction had been right - that he wanted his only son dead - then why was he still alive? And why did Kazuya invite him home?

He'd thought all along that it was the Mishima clan that was evil…but no, it was really just Heihachi. His coldness toward his father had been completely unnecessary.

No, he would not go back to Brisbane. He would go back to Tokyo. He would go home.

He slipped out of the covers and onto the cold floor of the hospital. Ack…no…first he'd train. He could barely walk his muscles had grown so weak. His first order of business was to arrange to go back to Brisbane to gather his belongings…then he would go back to Japan. After all…what else was there to do? He was no longer hiding from Heihachi; he was no longer mourning his mother's death. He had something to do…put out the fire on a few brand new bridges.