JIN KAZAMA: The Lost Years
BY
Don't Dream
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Tekken characters (coz Namco owns them) used in this fan fiction. This is purely fan-made and is non-canon.
This setting is before the Tekken 3 timeline but after the Tekken 2 timeline.
"Kazama Jin?" The professor called out, his loud voice echoing in the classroom. "Hai…" a voice replied, its source a young man of muscular build. He was sitting at the middle part of the class. To the others, he seemed a regular high school Senior, who's a bit moody and slightly antisocial. His dark hair was of a slightly spiky style, and his uniform was neatly pressed. His grades weren't bad, as they were passing and sometimes excelling.
He looked at his classmates nonchalantly, eyeing them with boredom in his eyes. It would be another boring day.
"You like Kazama-sempai? Eh? I LIKED HIM FIRST!" A girl screamed, a nerve popping comically out of her head. The second girl was about to say something when the person they were arguing about suddenly arrived, not really acknowledging them. "O-ohayo sempai…" The second girl said, barely getting her words out. "…Ohayo…" he replied, making eye contact, but briefly. Then he went on his way.
"AAAHH, HE'S SO CUTE!" screamed the first girl, while the second nodded slowly, her face beet red. He returned her greeting! The bell rang signalling the end of recess, and the start of another class.
Lunch period was an hour and a half. Jin took out a bento lunchbox, which was made by one of his grandfather's maidservants. The food was delicious but no longer warm.
Sitting alone on a bench, he observed the other students socializing, something that he was…not trained for. Then suddenly a pair of hands covered his eyes. "Guess who?" a cheerful voice cried out, belonging to a girl. Nobody ever does that to him, except…"Xiaoyu-chan…" He guessed, knowing that only she ever tries to hang out with him.
Uncovering the boy's eyes, Ling Xiaoyu, the Mishima sponsored transfer student, sat down beside him, a big smile on her face.
"Yo, Kazama-kun, you still don't have a kanojo(girl)?" teased the Chinese girl, poking fun at Jin's apparent lack of people skills. "B-baka.." he muttered, continuing to eat his lunch. "Eh? Miharu-chan's over there! Bye!" She suddenly said, leaving Jin alone, to his relief and…sadness?
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School was over. Jin walked towards the majestic Mishima estate, its broad walls and garden front made it one of the best places to reside. Jin doesn't wish to waste time.
Donning on a Karate gi, Jin started doing warm-ups and some stretching. It was time for his daily training. The Honmaru shrine which doubled as his training place was dimly lit and the cool night breeze felt contrasting to his flesh which was getting heated with exertion.
His grandfather, Heihachi Mishima, was a man of perfection. He often told Jin to work on his sweeps, since Jin's mastery of the sweep was inferior to his own. For a man advanced in years, Jin's grandfather was still …invincible.
The Mishima-ryu Karate was one of the most brutal and most difficult arts of combat. Its origins stemming from karate refined over the heat of battle and the fire of the warrior's will. Jin had heard of stories of his great-grandfather, Jinpachi Mishima, destroying entire buildings with a thunder godfist. Really now! Entire buildings? Surely he was embellishing facts. Jin, at his current state, could crack walls with his fists, but destroying buildings is beyond belief.
Jin performed katas proficiently, a fact which he held in pride. Not only was his form superior, frustrations and difficulties were often solved during his sessions of this "walking meditation".
The series of blocks, strikes, stances and positioning were meant to be in actual combat, though at present, Jin felt that it wasn't very applicable in actual skirmishes, and that it was just to achieve mastery of forms and proper execution of techniques. Though the Mishima style of fighting is more on giving the first strike and not letting the opponent recover, Jin tried to incorporate his mother's style of fighting, so as to make him more rounded in offensive and defensive techniques.
His mother's teachings had always kept him morally upright. And the fifteen years he spent with her were like none other. And she had taught him some forms of self-defense, grappling, and counterattacking.
He never knew his father, and was only told of him recently. He never asked, and his mother never told. She never told him of his story until the age of fifteen, where his curiosity was at its peak.
Sometimes he wished he had never asked…
Finishing one kata after the other, Jin was feeling relaxed and at peace. Feelings he did not often have, as nightmares of his mother's death at the hands of the Toshin or the fighting god often recurred.
Wiping his forehead with a towel, he started doing cool-downs and then rested. His regular routine was complete.
Next chapter later… Review if you wish…