Disclaimer: I do not own Tekken. It belongs to Namco/Namco-Bandai.
Greetings, all my beautiful readers!
Well, I know most of you who've been following and supporting my stories over the years (some of you since the very beginning, to whom I am inexpressibly grateful!) may be taken aback by this newest entry. I know up until now, I've written primarily about Dynasty Warriors which remains my all-time favorite video game, and my stories have been more specifically about my two favorite couples- no need to mention who they are! So you might be wondering why I've broken the usual trend before I even completed my first fanfic, Finally Found You, or my short-story Seven White Lilies.
The truth is, I'd been planning to write a one-shot like this one for over several years now, and although I'd initially hoped to wrap up Finally Found You before doing so, a year turned into two, and then two to three, and in this way, over six years of writing went by in a heartbeat! So I decided I couldn't wait much longer before expanding my line of work (if it merits that term!) here at FFN. To any of my devoted readers who are familiar with my fanfics, I want to clarify here and now that I haven't written this story because I am unsatisfied with your support or attention- nothing could be further from the truth! I love each and every last faithful one of you, and you are the reason why I've been brave enough to venture out of my cozy little Dynasty Warriors-nook and start writing about some other categories. Your belief in me and feedback over the years are what shaped my confidence that you will not abandon me, no matter what I write about! Rest assured, I haven't at all decided to terminate my Dynasty Warriors projects. This story is just a one-shot, so it'll be over the moment this chapter is! I do hope to garner some reviews for this one, but however successful it turns out would never threaten the rate of my Dynasty Warriors updates. That category is my one true love in fiction, and the last thing I want to risk is your support for my stories!
To any new readers I may be attracting right now- Hi! As you've probably guessed by the above rambling, this is my very first Tekken fanfic. I've loved Tekken since I was about six years old, and it was the very first fighting game I've ever played. I have always wanted to write about it, but feared that my Tekken-writing skills (whatever those might be heheh) wouldn't be quite up to scratch; however, bolstered by the support of my readers, I made up my mind to produce this story! I'm very interested to know what you make of it, and would greatly appreciate any sort of feedback. I think it's high time I left a tributary mark of mine in Tekken fanfiction, and I figure what better way to do it than posting this fluffy, sappy (yet hopefully insightful) piece dedicated to my favorite Tekken pairing ever?
So, to all my readers, new and old, here's my first Tekken fanfic!
Enjoy.
It was windy. Windy, and perhaps a bit more animated than one would have bargained for, even at this hour of night in Tokyo Bay.
The lingering city lights were vivid and colorful, illuminating the glittering sights and sounds of the bay. Children shouted in delight while playing with sparkling sticks, even as their parents began gently leading them back homeward, the Yakatabune marine cruises were retiring for the night, dropping off their last passengers, and clam and shellfish vendors started making their last-minute sales. Ferris wheels lights started dimming, and were then extinguished, cars were climbed into, and tour-buses made their way back to awaiting hotels.
Still, it would never be entirely dark in Tokyo bay. It would never be empty. People would always be present around the clock, enjoying themselves, surveying the city, and staring at anyone peculiar. But at least now, there were fewer people out to make note of certain secretive, enigmatic individuals.
And this usually suited any of the aforementioned individuals just fine.
The tall dark-haired man made his way past several of the rapidly thinning onlookers, walking deeper into the wind, into the night. He pulled his black leather trench coat more securely about himself as the breezes picked up. He took no notice of how he might seem to the any of the remaining strangers. Nor did he take any notice of the odd whisper that followed him now and then, the rare points and stares, the occasional mutters "Is it really him?" or even "Don't you know who that is?". He had chosen this time to venture out toward his destination, knowing that there was little to no chance of being recognized now, hardly any chance of being hounded by the media.
He hated it, hated it whenever they cornered him, hated how he was relentlessly asked the same questions over and over again: "How do you feel knowing that you have triumphed over some of the world's greatest fighters?" "Now that you're the King of Iron Fist, what are your future endeavors?" "What does the future hold for the Mishima Zaibatsu?" "Why have you yet refused to assume your legendary father's last name although you now command his birthright?"
Weeks had passed into months since he'd won the Fifth Tekken Tournament, and yet the hounding would never stop. He hated every last one of these questions because he knew every last answer. And they were answers he did not enjoy pondering over. They were answers that could make his forehead perspire, make his pulse irregular, even make his insides churn. But he'd somehow been successful at avoiding having to respond to them. Furtiveness, it seemed, was a quality that came naturally to him. Openness was not. It was just as well. No reporter, unyielding, crafty or otherwise, would have been able to stomach any of the answers he had for them. He could barely stomach them himself, and he'd elaborated over them for months, the better part of a year in fact.
But he wasn't in the mood to waste any more thoughts on the matter. He reminded himself that he was out here not to brood, but to meet someone. Someone he would never avoid- or at least not yet at least, he remembered wistfully.
He couldn't help feeling guilty for arranging their meeting at such a late hour. It really wasn't safe for her to be out at night, in an area where many of the embittered, defeated combatants of the recent tournament still lurked, a good number of them drinking away their resentment. Not that she wasn't perfectly adept at defending herself. He was just protective of her, and felt responsible for bringing her out of where there was no danger and into where there very well could be. But he didn't have a choice. This was the only way the privacy of their meeting was, for the most part, ensured.
He continued his walk, passing by places where people were thankfully growing scarcer. He thought back to what the others had been hissing behind his back just minutes before: Don't you know who that is?
In fact, did they know? Did he even know anymore?
Lately, he had gotten into the habit of telling himself just who he was, or who he believed he was anyway. It kept him from forgetting.
He was Jin Kazama. On the surface, he was the official King of Iron Fist Tournament 5. The unofficial King of Iron Fist Tournament 3. The leader of the Mishima Zaibatsu, the most powerful giant multinational conglomerate, which was founded by his feared 'late' grandfather and sponsored every last King of Iron Fist Tournament. He was dubbed both the 'world's most promising young entrepreneur' and 'every fighter's worst nightmare'. More recently, he placed third on the list of 'Top 35 Hottest Bachelors Under 35.' That was on the surface. That was what people knew.
This was what he knew.
Beneath the surface, he was Jin Kazama. Son of Jun Kazama, whose probable gruesome murder at the hands of the beast, Ogre, he had avenged nearly three years ago with the so-called help of his treacherous grandfather, Heihachi Mishima. Offspring of Kazuya Mishima, the terrifying, loathsome Devil himself. Descendant to a cursed bloodline, a bloodline which enslaved the souls of all who were part of it. A bloodline he aspired to finish off himself, unbeknownst to those he cared about. Which happened to be just one person when it came down to it, really. The very person he would finally be seeing tonight.
It was getting closer now, the venue he had proposed for their date. He could see it pretty well. Rainbow Bridge. It was glowing a bright, emerald green tonight, the color reflecting off the waters of the river. It wasn't bright enough to hurt his eyes, which were by now so accustomed to darkness both metaphorically and literally, but soft enough for him to gaze upon.
One thing most people didn't know about him was that he could appreciate beauty in most of its forms, and he appreciated it now in the bridge. He recognized beauty in most things, such as in sunsets, and in the dancing, orange flames of fire. He recognized it in the greenery of the forests he used to enjoy strolling and training in. He could remember it without flaw in his mother, despite it being seven years since he'd last seen her face. His mother had been lovely, brave and spirited enough to impress one as terrible as Kazuya... and he had been the product of that brief, ill-fated union.
Another thing most people didn't know about him: home for him had once been where Jun had lived, laughed, and loved. Thinking back on his mother, he knew the only time he used to feel safe was with her. Losing her had created a gaping hole in his life, and after she disappeared, he dedicated himself to avenging her. Upon finding his paternal grandfather, who trained him in the arts of combat under the guise of helping him carry out his revenge, Jin threw himself completely into his training and became a force to be reckoned with. After Heihachi turned on him, and he realized too late that he had been merely used by his grandfather as a means to eliminate Ogre, his despised father's Devil Gene, born out of his hatred at this betrayal, seized control. And Jin was left to battle the most formidable foe he was ever to face- himself. The Devil within. The battle raged on for three years without a victor, was raging on right now. There was no way to overcome this force, no way to best it. All he could hope was for external powers to destroy it.
But even that came with a cost... A cost he would rather not dwell upon, seeing as he had arrived at his destination.
A lone figure stood on Rainbow Bridge, leaning over the side and gazing into the distance, her hands wrapped around the steel bars. He couldn't see her face because her back was turned. He didn't need to. He would have known her anywhere.
He walked to a few feet behind where she stood and stopped.
"It's been a long time... Xiaoyu."
Upon hearing his voice, she gave a sudden start, then spun around at once.
"Jin!"
The familiar sound of how she called his name made him smile for the first time that night. It was always the first thing that burst forth from her upon seeing him, and never failed to sound welcoming, joyful and surprised. But what he liked even more was the way she looked at him every time they met. Her face would light up, her doe-brown eyes danced with happiness, a smile as wide as any stretched her lips, and her entire frame- he could never quite explain it- just seemed to tremble all over with excitement. It made him feel like the most important person in the world- which he just about was, by the world's reckoning. But being seen as such by her was what actually meant anything to him. Everything, perhaps.
She took a step forward and hesitated, her smile never leaving her face. She appeared unsure of whether to shake his hand or throw herself into his arms. Then, she settled on putting both hands behind her back and staying where she was, looking up at him.
"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. I understand if you're upset at how late I arrived..."
Xiaoyu waved her hand dismissively before he had even finished speaking.
"Don't be ridiculous! I haven't been waiting long. It's so good to see you again, I wouldn't have cared if you'd taken another hour!"
Of course she wouldn't have cared. Jin smiled again. Xiaoyu did that to him. After all, Xiaoyu was Xiaoyu. She always knew what to say.
"Would you like to walk?" he offered. It was one of the benefits of choosing a bridge as their meeting-place. Jin liked to keep moving.
"Of course!" she said cheerfully. "I hoped you would ask. The bridge is too pretty tonight not to, don't you think?"
He nodded in agreement, holding out his arm for her to lead the way.
And so they began to walk together along the bridge, as an ordinary couple would have. The only difference was, neither of them was anywhere close to being ordinary. Anyone who knew about Jin what he knew about himself would have readily agreed that he was as unique as anyone came. But the reason behind Xiaoyu's uniqueness wasn't as obvious as Jin's. People who realized that Xiaoyu was special were people who knew her- really knew her. Jin was lucky enough to count himself as one of them, and maybe there was nothing supernatural about Xiaoyu as there was with him, but at the same time, there was no one on Earth like her. That about summed her up.
Jin let himself get lost in his thoughts again, only for a few minutes. Previously, he had thought about himself, about his past and about what he was destined to do. Now, he thought about Xiaoyu. He watched her walk by his side through the corner of his eye. How long had it been since they'd seen each other like this? Almost a year? Too long, anyway. He remembered seeing her about four or five months ago as she prepared for a battle during the King of Iron Fist Tournament he ended up winning. But that had been for under a minute, and she hadn't even realized he was watching. It made him happy to be able to look at her to his heart's content for tonight. He knew he'd wanted to for a while now. They had met three years ago, shortly before the Devil awakened inside him. She had been sixteen then, and enrolled as a boarder at Mishima Polytechnical High School where Jin himself was completing his final year. Remembering how she had been back then, Jin couldn't say she had changed much, except to become even more... how she was before.
Xiaoyu was certainly pretty. Very pretty, if he really gave her enough credit, and even at sixteen she had had a fair share of admirers. Her coal-black hair, combed into its usual gleaming pigtails, was shining in the night lights, and her large eyes were just dark enough to reflect the green glow the bridge was radiating. Her smooth, creamy skin was tinted a permanent rose at her cheeks, with a tiny splash of freckles scattered across her nose. In a few years she would reach the height of her beauty. Jin would have liked to be around to see her then. It was unfortunate that he wouldn't be, and he had to suppress a rough sigh. He could feel himself begin to sink into dangerously melancholic thoughts and realized he didn't want to give in to them while spending these last precious hours with Xiaoyu. She deserved to enjoy their time together, even if she was oblivious to the truth of just how limited it was.
"So how is school, Xiaoyu? I heard from Miharu that you were taking a gap year before college?"
Xiaoyu nodded, clearly happy that he knew about this.
"She said she'd e-mailed you, but was worried you hadn't received it! Yes, I actually passed well enough to be accepted to Todai. Can you believe it? I was thrilled at first, but then realized I might not be quite ready yet. So in the meantime I've taken up giving Hakke Sho and Hikka Ken lessons at this really neat dojo in Shiba District."
Jin nodded, more pleased than he thought he would be at this news.
"University of Tokyo, is it? I never had a doubt."
She blushed with pleasure at his sincerity.
"Thank you. I never gave up because I knew you believed in me even when no one else did."
They walked on for a little while longer. He asked her more, about her grandfather Wang Jinrei, who'd always had a kind word for him, about her good friend Miharu, about Panda, the beloved pet/bodyguard she'd had ever since beginning high school who became almost too fond of him.
She answered all of his questions gladly, chatting animatedly about this new development and that, filling him in about every detail of her life he'd missed over the past few years. She asked him questions about himself too, and he evaded them expertly.
When she paused to draw in a breath, her eyes flicked towards him, for the first time, with a little timidity.
"What is it?" he asked.
She looked as if she was holding back from saying something more, unsure if this was the right time. A second later, she apparently decided it was.
"I've been meaning to tell you, I'm moving out of Mishima High really soon. I've found a place."
She smiled hesitantly, waiting for him to digest this new bit of information.
"You have? That's very good, isn't it?"
He congratulated himself on not revealing how taken aback he was. How sorry he would be to see her go. But maybe it was for the best. Things would be easier for her this way. Maybe she'd been planning this for months. Maybe she couldn't wait to walk out of his life. Maybe, in believing for so long that she saw him as more than just a friend, Jin had been quite the fool.
For some bizarre reason or other, Jin had always imagined that no matter what unexpected turns his life would take, Xiaoyu would always stay the same. He had always imagined that she would stay where she was, where he knew she would be, waiting for him. Waiting even if she didn't know if he'd come back. Strangely, it came to Jin that this was exactly how he used to think of his mother, before she was taken from him. Why was it always so that people he'd come to view as home were taken from him?
"Well, yes," she replied, still smiling, shyly somehow. "It's... actually very close to the Zaibatsu," she went on in a smaller voice. "Or, closer than school was anyway. Just about a thirty minute drive. I checked. That's close, right? We could see each other more, maybe even every week..."
She trailed off when Jin made no answer, but instead stopped walking abruptly.
Instead, he moved to the edge of the bridge, leaning on it with his hands much like she had been when he saw her, and looked out on the river, his brow furrowed.
"I mean, only whenever you're free, of course," she added quickly. "I know you'd be very busy, and I'd never dream of distracting you from anything..."
Jin nodded, only dimly aware of what she was saying.
How could he have been so blind? He had underestimated Xiaoyu's feelings for him, that unwavering attachment she'd had to him. A minute ago he'd been worrying about her walking out on him, and here she was telling him how she hoped to see him more often. He had hoped (or rather told himself so) that, over the months, her affections would diminish when he allowed things to become more distant between them. But Xiaoyu was Xiaoyu. Absence only made her heart grow fonder. Also, he wasn't fooling her. No matter how much he'd shunned her, for that first year after he graduated from Mishima Polytechnical, the same year he had encountered both his father and grandfather in the King of Iron Fist Tournament 4, Xiaoyu knew he'd been doing it to protect her. She'd had no proof, no evidence, no witnesses, they had never brought it up together in any subsequent conversations, but she knew it, and he knew she knew it. Even after the tournament, he had seen her for only a number of fleeting minutes, certainly less than thirty, and then he had vanished again. Still, she went on hoping, believing, keeping faith that he would come for her again.
She had been right about that. If people knew these things about Xiaoyu, they would have understood why she was like no one else.
And now, after he'd been declared the King of Iron Fist, after he'd inherited everything there was to inherit, Xiaoyu naturally believed things could pick up where they left off. That it was all over. That he would do right by the Zaibatsu, unlike its predecessors, and do right by the world. That he could finally do right by her. She assumed they could go on with their lives, and that she could be a part of his, and he a part of hers.
It was this realization, more than any other, that pained Jin beyond words when he thought about what had to happen- and how she could never know the truth. He wished he could tell her all, wished she could be the one he to whom he spilled his soul, that she could be the one he confided all to. He wished he could give her the answer to every one of those hated reporters' queries, and that she could comfort him, strengthen him with her words and her faith in him. But he couldn't. He knew that if he did, Xiaoyu would risk leaving everything she cared for, everything that was dear to her to help him overcome his demons. She would even put her life on the line, he was sure of it. And the loss of that was the one thing, above all, that he wouldn't be able to bear.
Along with this realization came another. That for several years, he had never been without a home after all, not entirely. After Jun was gone, his yearning for security and need to be wanted, his memory of being loved, ultimately manifested themselves into Xiaoyu. As long as he had known her, he had found a home again. Xiaoyu had become home for him. Xiaoyu was where he felt safe.
Xiaoyu was waiting for his answer on tenterhooks, her hands clasped together and her brows in a worried knot.
He turned to look at her and gave her a tight smile.
"I would like that very much," he said, making her release her breath in relief.
"Oh, thank goodness!"
She moved over to where he was and leaned on the bridge alongside him.
"I was so afraid you'd refuse. I'm so glad! This is going to be great. I was talking to Hwaorang the other day, and he said he'd like to drop by for a visit when I'm settled in. Wouldn't that be nice? He also told me he owed you a big thanks for something you did a couple of years ago, and that maybe you're not a half-bad guy after all."
Jin heard the puzzlement in her voice.
"I wonder what he meant by that," he lied easily, remembering the incident nearly two years ago.
So Xiaoyu had kept in touch with Hwaorang. This strangely didn't make him feel the way it would have a year ago. He was actually glad of it, if he was honest with himself. That meant she wouldn't be lonely when all the terrible things he instigated came to pass, that she would have someone to turn to.
She inched a little closer to him so that he could feel the warmth emanating from her skin. Now that Jin looked her over, he saw that she was wearing her signature look- a snug T-shirt and a short, pretty skirt that billowed gently in the breeze.
"Are you cold?" he asked, suddenly ashamed that he hadn't asked this question earlier.
She shook her head happily, and inched even nearer, this time touching her arm to the sleeve of his coat.
Jin smiled, enjoying her 'subtle' endeavors to get closer to him. He reached over and covered her hand with his. When she didn't withdraw it, he curled his fingers under hers so that they were holding hands on top of the bridge's railing.
Xiaoyu turned her head to stare at his face with wide eyes. Her gaze met his and he could feel her pulse quicken through her delicate hand, and cursed himself immediately. Why had he done that? Of course now, she had been filled with more hope. Now he had made her misinterpret their meeting. Why couldn't he help himself around her? It was one thing he couldn't fathom- or maybe didn't want to fathom. Around anyone else, he may have stayed in control, hidden his true self. But Xiaoyu was Xiaoyu. She inspired feelings within him he didn't even know he possessed. She created actions and gestures from him that he never knew he was capable of.
Gazing into her face right now, he saw yet another thing in her eyes, in her expression. He saw his mother. He saw the need to protect, the need to hold and heal.
"Jin, I... There's something I've always wanted to tell you. You... you already know what it is. But- "
He let go of her hand brusquely.
"It's getting late, Xiaoyu. I shouldn't have asked you to come and meet me at such an uncivilized hour. I'm sorry. Let me at least walk you back to make sure you reach the dorms safely."
Forcing himself to ignore both the anguished shift her face had assumed, and the cracking of whatever was left of his heart, Jin turned away from her.
A split second later, Xiaoyu's arms wrapped themselves around him from behind, and her head pressed into his back, her hands clutching at his shoulders.
"Jin, I'm so glad everything's over," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I'm so glad you won the Tournament. It killed me inside to see you go, every single time. I was so afraid you wouldn't come back, but you did. I know it's going to be hard living a normal life now Jin, but you're not alone. I'll stand by you, I promise. I don't ever want you to feel like you have to be alone. I always believed in you and I always will."
Xiaoyu took hold of his shoulders and turned him to face her, gazing hard into his astonished, bewildered eyes.
"I know how cruel the world's been to you, Jin," she went on, baring her soul to him. "I was always grateful to Grandpa Heihachi for his kindness to me, but hated him for how he was to you, for how he used you. He made you think this world's not worth living in. But Jin, I want to make you see that the world, even with all its faults and evil isn't so bad, not when you have something worth living for. I want to help you understand that so badly, Jin."
Jin could hardly believe his ears. He stared into Xiaoyu's eyes and saw nothing but love there, powerful sincere and true.
I do have something worth living for, Xiaoyu. I have something worth protecting; something worth living for, and dying for. That's why I'm about to do all three. It's you. It's you, Xiaoyu.
Somehow, Jin managed to raise his arms and wrap his fingers around Xiaoyu's shoulders. Her beautiful face was filled with hope and tenderness. He had never known love so pure, not since he had lost his mother at age fifteen. He hadn't imagined that he would find it in anyone other than Jun. But here it was, in the warm, living, breathing flesh of this dear girl who loved him, this dear girl whom he loved.
Yes. Whom I love.
"You've given up too much of your life for me, Xiaoyu," he tried to say gently. "I couldn't forgive myself if you gave up any more."
"And I couldn't forgive myself if I didn't!" she retorted fiercely, determination blazing in her eyes. "Don't you understand? I can't live without you. You're my best friend, you're everything to me. My life isn't complete without you in it, Jin."
And I, Jin thought, can't live without you. So I'm not going to.
Many a time, Jin wondered why he had never gone the same way as Kazuya- yet. They had both been cursed by the Devil. They had both been born to cruel, even murderous fathers- so why had Kazuya been consumed in evil, while Jin remained fighting the good fight?
He rightly suspected that much of the answer lay with Jun being his mother- and that her care and goodness had seeped into his soul before the Devil had. But now, he saw that a good deal of the reason was standing before him right now, holding onto him as though she would never let him go, and declaring that she could not live without him- him!
Kazuya didn't have a conscience. He didn't have love. But as much as I loathe my grandfather and despise my father, Kazuya saw something in my mother that slowed him down. He saw something in her that made him second-guess himself. That was where I came in. But his feelings for her weren't powerful or pure enough. That's why he carried on being the Devil. If I had never known you, my best chance would have been to slit open my veins and drain his cursed blood from my body. But just before the Devil consumed me, I had found you. You helped me retain myself. You are my conscience, Xiaoyu. You are what helps me choose right from wrong.
Tears were now starting in Xiaoyu's eyes.
"I won't let you push me away," she breathed. "Not again. I wouldn't be able to take it. You can't make me leave you. You're mine, and I'm yours. It's always been that way, Jin, and you know it. You didn't bring me here to tell me it was over. You couldn't have, even if you thought you did. Not after everything we've been through. Not after the last two Tournaments I entered, just for the chance to glimpse you again."
Jin cupped Xiaoyu's face with both his hands.
"You are right, Xiaoyu. It's always been that way. Always."
His voice barely remained steady.
His hands moved from her face to her neck, from her neck to her waist, caressing every bit of her they could, before wrapping around her body and enveloping her to him at last, letting her fall into his embrace, unrestrained, for the first time.
They held each other tight, leaving no gap between their forms. He had waited too long for this, and he never wanted to let her go, as he knew he must- probably forever.
He felt her hand move up his sleeve to his upper arm, and stop there, holding onto his bicep.
He knew why she'd done that. Pulling away slightly, he saw the sorrow on her face. That was where the Devil had branded its mark into his flesh, and thus far, nothing he had tried could erase that mark away. The Devil still had the upper hand alright, in every since of the phrase.
At least he could count on Xiaoyu to understand that as long as that brand stayed, they could never have a normal relationship. And maybe that, for now, had to serve as the explanation.
But... whether he told her or not... Things were still so incomplete between them. He couldn't bring himself to leave them as they were. She deserved to hear something from him, a truth that was long overdue in being told.
He tried to open his mouth and simply say the words. But in the many ways that Xiaoyu was a better person than he, honesty was one of them.
"Xiao," he said, using her special pet-name and making her blush. "Xiao, I..."
He tried again.
"I..."
But that damned fear was always holding him back, fear of what would happen if he told her, and then disappeared forever, causing her the sort of pain she never deserved. He had no right, no right to inflict that sort of suffering on her. She deserved to be free of that burden. Still, he hated himself for being so inept. He wished he could have given her what she had the right to hear.
But Xiaoyu understood. She always understood. Her face told him that she bore him no resentment for not saying it. She wouldn't begrudge him anything. She would accept him as he was.
Xiaoyu reached up and took his face gently in her hands. Jin loved her in that moment more than he had ever loved anyone- which perhaps didn't sound like much, but it was. So very, very much. She was Xiaoyu, after all. And Xiaoyu was Xiaoyu. She always knew what to do. She always knew how to rescue him.
Standing on the tips of her toes and slightly pulling his head down to hers, she covered his lips with her own and kissed him sweetly and deeply.
He let her kiss him in the way she knew how, and kissed her back as openly as he dared, every movement her lips made somehow releasing his heart from the cage he'd confined it to. Her hands left his face and reached into his hair, entwining themselves in it. He let his hands slide down her slides, losing himself in her sweetness.
Xiaoyu...
Jin felt a jolt of shock when he tasted her salty tears. He broke apart only to brush her face dry.
"I'm sorry, Jin," she whispered, slipping her fingers in his. "I didn't mean to... I just..."
"No, Xiaoyu," he cut her off, touching his fingers to her lips. "Please don't apologize to me. I'm the one who should be sorry- I made you risk so much, so fast. I can't imagine what it must have taken for you to sacrifice so much for me. You've waited longer than I dared to hope you would, and you've never complained or wavered. I could never thank you enough. Never."
He paused long enough to return her watery smile, and leaned into her, kissing her with the love she'd helped him find, the love he now knew he could give.
As he kissed her, he realized that maybe, on some level, Xiaoyu was right. Maybe he hadn't brought her here just to say goodbye. Maybe he had brought her here to remind themselves of who he really was. Maybe he had brought her here to remind her that she had always been, and would always be right about him. That she would always know the truth. That she would always remember. And even though she had not yet a single clue as to what he was planning, it didn't matter as long as she believed, with all her heart, the truth. Maybe, as long as she held onto everything she remembered, it didn't matter what she saw with her own eyes, and heard with her own ears about him. Maybe, after it was all over, she would always know who he really was. And maybe that way, someone who loved him would still be left alive in the world after he had left it. Maybe therein lay his self-preservation, because it could no longer lie with him.
Tomorrow, Jin would begin the war against the rest of the world, including Kazuya. Thousands of lives would be lost, and he would emerge victorious, narrowing it down to the two of them. Soon afterward, he would announce the King of Iron Fist Tournament 6, and lure out Heihachi, whom he knew to be alive, finally finishing him off. Then, he would sacrifice himself, along with the malignant evil he had awakened in the world, thus bringing about the end to the Mishima Bloodline Curse, and it would all be over.
Remember me, he said to Xiaoyu silently. When you see me order unspeakable actions to be carried out, remember me. When the newspapers and news channels tell you all what an evil man I am, remember who I truly was. When you're forced to pick up your training to fight in yet many more battles, remember the night on Rainbow Bridge. When I am unbearably cold and harsh to you when you confront me during the next Tournament, remember what you know. When I am gone... Remember my truth.
I am Jin Kazama. The one who never had a hope of living without Ling Xiaoyu.
Could she hear him? Could she hear him speaking to her?
Remember that I love you.
He hoped so.
And there you have it! So ends my very first Tekken fanfic! I do hope you all liked it, whether you've read my stories before or not! I apologize if it was too long or seemed to drag in places, but I wanted the first Tekken chapter I ever wrote to be a sizable, and, as I've mentioned before, an informative read.
Hmm, surprisingly, this just might be my most cannon piece of fanfiction... Definitely weird ^.^
For those who are curious, I didn't find it necessary to include Xiaoyu's POV in this story, since that would have made it overly long, and, as anyone who played Tekken 6 will know, Xiaoyu never does forget about Jin's innate goodness and believes in his true benevolence until the very end- and as far as anyone knows, she believes in it still! It's Jin's feelings that are an enigma to everyone around him, and therefore this fanfic does its best to explain his POV (though the game does a good enough job in doing so itself!)
For anyone who was wondering about why I picked this particular location/setting, it's because I saw a certain picture of the Rainbow Bridge on the internet and realized it that it really looked quite beautiful, especially at night. The actual night that I'm referring to which inspired me was the night of July 25th, 2012. I'm sure once you Google the picture in question, you'll understand why I had to have it in the story!
So, here's hoping everyone enjoyed this oneshot! Please do leave your comments behind! I would love to know what you all think, about characterization, plot, integrity, anything in particular. And if you're a regular reader/writer of Tekken fanfiction, I'd appreciate if you let me know if you think I should continue writing in this particular category :).
Until next time!