Tekken Fan Fiction ❯ Jakunen Mirai ❯ A Mild Burning Sensation ( Chapter 5 )

A/N: These notes are actually adapted from the Fanfiction.net version of this story, just in case you're wondering why they're so pointless. There are some good points in here though. I think.

If you're into Yahoo! chat RPG, this character has an alias, and I do actually use him in chat. Mirai_Kazuya_Mishima is the name. And yes, this story is going to turn into an adventure soon…at least a minor one.

And I don't own Tekken, as we all know…however, I do own…A KAZUYA PLUSHIE! Yep yep, I made him…and ya can't have him…cuz I own him! Not the real Kazuya Mishima…just a wannabe plushie >_> Hear that Namco? Can't sue me!

Anywho…

~Kazuya-sama, aka MiraiSonGokou

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Jakunen Mirai - Chapter 5

Kazuya sat boredly before his computer screen, typing furiously on the keyboard. Damned business report was due in an hour's time, and he still had a few more pages to type. Perhaps this was the perfect trial-and-error test for 'does lack of sleep really affect performance?'. After all, he hadn't slept much the previous night, since he woke up at 3am, and barely slept for the next three hours. Rubbing his eyes with one hand, he sighed and pondered getting some strong coffee or something, anything, to keep himself awake. Heck, he'd even settle for one of those bitter-tasting energy drinks, no matter how much they make him screw his face up in reaction to the sour taste. But there was no time for that. Steeling himself, he pressed on with his report, forcing his tired mind to cooperate with his fingers on the keyboard.

Forty-five minutes later, the report was typed and printing off quietly on the corner of the desk, and Kazuya had his head in his hands, almost unable to keep his eyes open. He hadn't bothered to do anything with his hair this morning, since his office was in the same building as his home, and he didn't have to travel anywhere to get to it, save a flight of stairs. The raven shards hung over his eyes and between his fingers, and down to the bottom of his neck. With it parted lazily in the middle, he would have looked younger than usual - but the sleepy dark rings beneath his tired eyes betrayed that. He never looked his fifty years anyway.

He had to do something to keep himself awake for now; he could sleep later. But he had to get this report delivered on time. So he booted up the intranet server on the computer in front of him, and began searching the Mishima databases for anything interesting.

That was a bad idea. Business reports, statistics, numbers, more numbers, a few more reports…and then something caught his eye. The name 'Kazama'.

Now he was wide awake. He sat up in his chair, and opened up the file containing all the information beneath the title he'd found. If course, there were only a few pieces of information on Jun Kazama; gender, date or birth, country of origin, and the tournaments the fought in. The picture of her was what caught his eye. Typical Jun. Quiet, timid, smiling shyly at the camera. So pure and innocent. Deep inside his cold, icy exterior, Kazuya felt something. Something warm, but painful. Ignoring it, he looked at the pixelated image again. Then that warmth seemed to seize up around his heart painfully. What on Earth was happening to him?

Slowly the pain seemed to fade harmlessly, but it had left tears struggling to be released from his eyes. The heat was replaced with an empty cold. And that was when he realised what it was. What those terrible feelings were. Love; and love being torn away. The love was that warmth he suddenly wished would return to him, and the emptiness was the loneliness he'd known for so long, but never truly felt.

He blinked away those tears - a true sign of weakness, so says Heihachi - and looked back at the screen, but scrolled down so he couldn't see the image of Jun. It revealed too much of him; too much of him to himself, let alone others. After years of abuse from his father, harsh training sessions that forced him to tolerate massive amounts of pain, he'd hardened himself so much he believed the lies himself. That he was really weak, and had to learn to be strong. And strength came in icy calm, rather than passionate outbursts, emotional rage and torment. It was that sort of twisted lie that made Kazuya even colder over the years; he felt emotion deep inside him, particularly when it came to the topic of Jun Kazama, and the lie in his head told him to cover it up; hide the weakness. And the Devil inside him only screamed it louder to accentuate his anguish.

It was only over the last few years that he learned that emotion was a strength, not a weakness. But the lies still stayed deep in his mind, in his subconscious, tormenting him.

Shaking the thoughts of his distant past from his head, Kazuya looked further still down the intranet page. There was more? Under the name Kazama, Jin was also listed. Jin. His only son.

He felt that feeling again. Of painful coldness. But this time, the coldness felt like little icicles being driven into him all over, especially through his chest. Fiery and blood-red images flashed before his eyes; blurred images of violence, yelling, blood. Muffled words of hatred, and his own pain, his own blood. The images darkened to black, he felt his fist being driven through someone's stomach…then silence after the thud. Silence, except for his own breathing. After a few moments of calm, he steeled himself to find something important. Someone important. In his wrecked pants, he found a lighter, which cast light down on the dead body of his son.

He almost choked at the memory. Lately, he'd coped very well with the memory haunting him; but when the reminder of where the boy came from, his angelic mother…it seemed just so much more terrible. Once again he forced those feelings back, back into his mind, where he wouldn't feel them burning him.

He almost put off the idea of looking further down the page…but he had to find out more about the boy, and end his curiosity. Regaining his usual coldness, he looked over the information superficially, reading it, but not processing it for now. It didn't give much detail, anyway. The last few lines were awfully snide though. Talking of terminating the boy because he was weak-willed, like his father. Like his father. A sudden explosion of rage threatened to burst out of him, threatening his integrity. He clenched his fists as Heihachi's cruel words echoed about in his head. Words, so many words, elaborating on his every weakness. And now this?! Heihachi, it would seem, shall never let him live in peace. He forced himself hard to calm down, and read the last bit of information. Jin was shot in the head with a handgun. By his own grandfather; the one he trusted so much. No wonder he wanted Kazuya out of the way so he could get to the old man. If only he'd actually known this about his son, he wouldn't have been so happy, at first, to do the same.

The printer beeped a few times, and Kazuya turned his attention to the impending stack of paper sitting on the tray. Ah yes…business as usual. Sighing, he picked up the stack and put a large clip over it, filed it, and called a secretary to take it downstairs to be sent off. After that was done, he decided to go and get some rest. Let the information on Jin sink in somewhat.

Maybe then he'll be able to at least cope with all his losses a little better. But that's hoping a little too much.