Harmony

Smiles

A/N: I've always wanted to do one shots about Jun Kazama for a while now. I'm really trying to get out of my comfort zone with writing and go into different genres. I hope you guys can help me by leaving some reviews giving me some constructive criticism. Besides that, happy reading!


"Why is he always frowning?"

Jun shook her head. "He's starting to look just like his darn father if you ask me." It was true. Jin had what Jun dubbed the "Mishima look": the bushy eye brows, nose, and the shape of his hair, which was growing at a ridiculous rate, was starting to form in the back in a duck tail fashion. The only things he got from her was the colour of his hair, the softness of his face, and his eyes – though they strived to give one of Kazuya's favourite cold stares.

Jun's brother, Daitaro, picked the six month old up and held him at arm's length. Jin just continued to stare at him, furrowing his eye brows closer together with a bored expression. Jun could only smile, feeling some part of her feel excited that her son and his uncle get to finally meet.

When she heard Jin starting to whimper, she looked at the clock. "It's almost eleven. Jin needs to take his nap." Jun tried reaching out for him, but her brother stepped away.

"He doesn't need a nap," he said. "He just needs to smile. If I was him, I would cry too if all my mother did was just mope around the house."

Jun mimicked her son's face. Her brother did have a point. Ever since she had given birth to Jin, all she could think about was how he would grow up without a father figure in his life. Of course she would try her best at being both parents, but she knew that her son would grow up having questions and situations and not feeling comfortable asking his mother.

"I do smile, for your information," she said, taking Jin from her brother's hands. "Every time I smile, he does, too. Just watch."

Jun forced herself to smile in front of her child. As if knowing that it was a charade, Jin switched from a frown to a pout. The mother held her son out at arm's length and put on a thoughtful expression, not realising her son was doing the same thing.

"Hey Jun," Daitaro said, nudging her slightly. "I think Jin's copying you."

"Hmm?" Jun turned her head back to Jin and saw that her brother was right. His head was tilted to the side like hers, and his lips pressed in a straight line. "So you wanna be a copycat, huh?" Jin's response was the same look his mother was giving him. "Alright then . . ." Jun puffed out her cheeks and wrinkled her nose. As expected, Jin did the same thing, only he couldn't get his nose to corporate.

Jun couldn't help but be amused. After thinking of another face, she stuck her tongue out and went cross-eyed. Instead of copying her like she expected, and much to her amazement, Jin started to laugh. His eyes lit up and he wiggled in Jun's arm in happily.

"Well will you look at that," Daitaro said smugly. "You managed to get him to laugh. I guess you aren't a failure when it comes to fun." Jun's answer to that was a smack to his head. Jin started to laugh even more, clapping his hands to show his amusement at the small display of violence.

"I think I might have to agree with you on that one, Daitaro," Jun said laughing.


The next day, Jun hugged her brother good-bye.

"Please come back to see me," she said, nearly squeezing the life out of Daitaro.

"I'll make sure I'll see you again," he promised. Looking at Jin, he touched the baby's nose, getting a giggle from him. "Both of you." He hugged his sister one last time and walked to the bus. Before he boarded, he looked back at the mother and child and yelled, "Next time I see you, you won't have to be told to smile!" Not waiting for Jun to answer, Daitaro got on the bus and the doors closed.

I hope so big brother, Jun thought, bouncing her son up and down. For Jin's sake, I'll try.


Eh, it's not great, but it's a start. Right now I'm looking for a beta and these should get better in time. I would appreciate constructive criticism if you guys see anything that needs to be improved.