Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Note: So, that Tekken 7 trailer. –drums fingers together-
BATTLE CRY
He finds his son standing opposite him at the very volcano that he was thrown into over twenty years ago.
All around them is red. It's all they see, all they feel. The lava that surrounds them, coaxing them to dart forward now and end it; and their rage. The rage that has carried them both so far in their lives, but destroyed so many other people's lives and perhaps each other's.
The rage of the Mishima Family.
Heihachi can see it in the way Kazuya stands. He knows now, he knows everything.
He thinks, for a moment, about when his son was weak and feeble in his arms. How easily he could have crushed his tiny head in his hand. He wonders how much would've been avoided if he had done it then; he wonders where he would be if he hadn't of shown mercy. This world has too many unanswerable questions. It always has. It infuriates him.
Too many times they have escaped death. Too many times they have stood here, amidst a red storm and ferocious sounds, alone or side by side. Too many times they have each found a way to slide past a cold hand, made of nothing but bone and the stench of fallen, weaker humans. Too many times they had avoided death.
But not today. No one could save them now.
Kazuya long stopped daring to hope, because Heihachi was too cunning.
Heihachi long stopped believing, because Devil made his son too strong.
Kazuya moves to speak, but Heihachi is surprised to find that he's unable. Interesting that there is still a part of him that feels, a part of him that remained so very human, even given who he shared that body with. He considers laughing at him, to rub salt into the wound, to remind him that without Devil, Kazuya is and will always be weak; but, like decades ago, he shows mercy. He says nothing.
It's like a game of chess. It has been from the moment he threw his son down that volcano. Through the tournaments, through the war, through Jin and Lee and Lars. Through whatever came to face them, be it a human or something more sinister and supernatural. They demolished every single challenge with a battle cry and an electric fist.
But the other pieces are gone now. They are off the board as they stand here, Father and son, in the heart of where it all began fifty years ago. They're all that's left, and there can be only one victor. Only one champion. Only one true epitome of strength.
The last stand. The final battle.
"You killed my Mother," Kazuya growls. His voice tremors slightly. His fists remain clenched tightly by his side, fighting to stay still and not give in to how he feels.
Heihachi remembers a soft, striking face. A gentle, warm touch to his shoulder, down his arm, until their fingers are entwined. He remembers a laugh and a feeling that makes him feel like he never should've started all of this in the first place. That maybe he could have truly been happy with her.
And then he remembers her strength. He remembers the way her eyes were alight, the way her fingers could crush bones. He remembers her in all of her vicious beauty, in her burning soul. And he had to have it.
Kazumi.
Heihachi simply nods slightly. His grey hair remains immaculate, even amongst the heat and the sweat. They are silent for many moments, instead listening to the bubbling lava, the hissing of nature around them. Heihachi briefly thinks back to the little boy he once held in his arms, to the baby he could have crushed but found himself unable to.
To this day he couldn't work out why he was unable to. But it doesn't matter now, because he will be the one walking out of here alive, dragging that scarred body out behind him like a prized carcass.
And then Kazuya roars. It's a deep battle cry and carries the rage of the man and of the spirit inside of him. The rocky ground around him begins to crumble underneath the force of his power; and for a single, fleeting moment, he doubts his ability to survive.
Slowly, Heihachi slides into stance.