Tekken Fan Fiction ❯ Jakunen Mirai ❯ Now Your Perfect Sky Is Torn ( Chapter 11 )

Kazuya sighed softly as the lift finally opened up and let him out. The office floors seemed not to change, despite the explosions the Tekkenshu set off before he left for the first time. Obviously, they'd been refurbished, but somehow they seemed all too familiar.

He stepped out, and headed purposely down the hall, past the rows of workstations and computer cubicles, to the very end, and stood before a tall, chrome finished door. The tatty, hospital white Venetian blinds covering the window on the door were drawn down and shut…as he had expected. Heh, so much for the office being 'as classy as it gets'. His memory prodded him; that receptionist was the master of sarcasm. Remembering the emails that had been sent back and forth earlier on in the week, he wasted no time in knocking on the door.

'Mr Mishima, I am glad to hear that all is well. The perpetrator of the latest G-Corporation is thus far unknown to local authorities, but it certainly isn't the Tekkenshu, since they are now under your control. I can only hope that the criminals can be brought to justice before they make any further bold attempts on your life.

Additionally, there has been investigation at the TokyoG-Corporation base on the incident. I suggest you see Yasashiku Jiro; I'm sure you already know him.'

That last email ran through his head as he heard heavy, almost laboured footsteps trudge toward the office door. He looked down momentarily at himself; neatly dressed but not excessive. It wasn't exactly warm, so he had a long-sleeved, dark blue shirt, beneath a heavy leather overcoat, which hung at mid calf length. Since he'd come straight from his office, he still had a dark metallic-toned tie on, and of course black slacks to complete the businessman-like look.

Finally, the footsteps ceased behind the door, and slowly, it creaked open. Behind it was a short, middle-aged Japanese man, dressed in casual business wear. From behind thick coke-bottle frames, he squinted up at the much taller man, then smiled. In fact, he laughed. He laughed like an old madman in a state of euphoria, and immediately clung to Kazuya's waist in joy. Of course, this wasn't the kind of reaction someone like Kazuya would expect, appreciate, or know how to handle.

***

K-chan had sat there for the last five hours, staring into space. After the nurse had revealed his name, he'd returned to his room, letting his mind explore this new, two-word piece of information. At first it meant nothing to him, as usual, but he decided against returning to the computers. Instead, he threw himself down on his bed, stared at the ceiling, and pondered.

It had taken an hour of running the word through his head, around his tongue and past his lips. At first it was nonsense, but slowly there came familiarity with the words. Eventually, he began to understand it, and associate himself with it.

Then came the tsunami.

Sounds, distant sounds, of a child's scream echoed through his mind. After which, a loud strike, and a pained sob. His eyes fell shut, and images flew by, broadcast upon his closed lids. Blurred, half-animated memories started to flood back, some weak, some strong, but all over the top of each other. It was like a million old movies played one over the other, the soundtracks distorted, the images jagged and hazy. Most of the sounds were those of a man's yelling and screaming, and a child's cries of pain, begging mercy. Words hurtful beyond description echoed about in his skull; to the average person, they wrought sympathy to the receiver of the insults; but somehow, K-chan associated completely with every one of them. Violent, crimson and black images flashed from one to the other before his tightly shut eyes, like a slide show of Hell itself. For what seemed to be forever, the images and sounds haunted his very being. And ended abruptly with one simple phrase.

'I will kill you, father.'

And he remembered who Kazuya Mishima was.

***

Kazuya was still a little dazed from being grabbed like that, but he managed to extract himself from the grasp. "Jiro, this is important…"

The old man allowed him one last cackle of delight, then nodded and ushered Kazuya inside his office. "What can I help you with, son?"

Yeah, son, sure. Though he'd love to have been called that by someone who cared many years ago, for some reason, it didn't seem right that Jiro of all people, who was only ten or less years older than he, to be referring to him as that. Oh well, the old man always seemed to respect Kazuya as one of his creations. And honestly, he really didn't mind being babyfied by this man at times. At others, like now, it was just downright annoying. "I'm sure you heard about the attack on G-Corporation overseas. Apparently they were trying to attack me."

The old man raised a brow. "They were?"

Somehow, Kazuya managed a smirk and a sadistic laugh. Typical middle-age crisis lack-of-memory syndrome. "Uh yeah, it cost your side of the company several billion dollars in damages."

The other brow joined its partner high on Jiro's wrinkled forehead. "Oh…oh yes, the attack on the US head office." He seemed to get on target now. "They say you were targeted?" He laughed. "Wow, that sure is some mix-up."

Biting back his impatience, Kazuya sighed softly and sat back in the seat he was offered moments before. "Do elaborate…"

***

'I will kill you, father.'

'You hurt me too much to forgive you.'

'I will kill you, father.'

'You never loved her, did you? You never loved my mother.'

'I will kill you, father.'

'Why did you hurt me so badly, daddy? What did I do wrong?'

'I will kill you, father.'

'Why do you love Lee more than me? I'm your son…'

'I will kill you…'

'What did I do wrong?'

'…will kill you…'

'Why did you hurt me?'

'…kill you…'

'Why don't you love me?'

'…father.'

The boyish voice had still not left his head after two whole hours, and one memory in particular seemed to stick more firmly than all the others put together. Standing at the base of a long, jagged cliff, was a young boy. His face was ripped and torn, with trickles of blood running down the soft, rounded cheeks, down his small, pointed chin, down his chest. Across ripped flesh that would kill most people with the agony it wrought. Bared, open flesh, torn across the small boy's chest. But within him, a new, powerful spirit burned with a brilliant flame. The spirit, almost engulfing his own, hid the pain, and gave the young, weakened body the ability to stand, to move, and to live. The only thoughts that filled the five-year-old's mind were revenge. Revenge for the pain. Revenge for the hatred. For the betrayal. Past the soft, swollen, gashed lips, slipped a mantra that would haunt him for the rest of his long, cold, empty life.

"I will kill you, father."

Every thought was overshadowed by this one.

The mantra still haunted him.

***

"You're here, not in San Fran…"

Kazuya sighed again. "I could have told you that!"

Jiro chuckled happily. "No no, I know. The attackers, or err, terrorists you might call them…well, they were after another of our projects…" He paused a moment, eyeing a pewter pot and two mugs sitting on the edge of his table. "Care for coffee?"

"No, get on with it." His impatience was beginning to get the better of him, though he knew Jiro would tolerate it. He always had.

"Yes yes, of course of course." He poured himself coffee, and continued. "We've found someone similar to you. We're, you know, trying to get him back on his feet. He wasn't quite dead, just fatally injured. We didn't have the facilities here, thanks to those Tekkenshu that raided us a year back…you should know, you were there…"

How could he forget? He'd KOed each one of them. He nodded, urging the old man on.

Jiro took a sip of the coffee, and placed it down. The warm liquid sloshed over the side of the cup, and splashed down onto some paperwork. "Oh dear, would you look at that…silly me…" Kazuya rolled his eyes as Jiro mopped it up with a paper towel. "Where was I? Oh yes. We have a young man over there; we're using the same technology on him as we did you. He was the target in the attack. I don't know if it was him specifically, or, err, if it was the technology. I can find out…"

That was all he needed to know. He stood up, startling the older man somewhat in the process. "No, don't bother; I'm on my way to find out myself." He couldn't place what it was that gave him the insatiable urge for investigation personally, but whatever it was, it was strong. He reached out, and shook Jiro's hand. "Thank you for all your help, you've been brilliant."

Jiro still seemed stunned, but shook the powerful hand anyway. "Yes, yes…good luck, K-cha…I mean, Kazuya…"

He couldn't help but smile at the use of his former nickname. The smile met Jiro's eyes as he exited the office. The old man waved. "Ja matta…"