Disclaimer: WHOOPS! Completely forget that I didn't own the series! Tsk. Anyway, Tekken = Not Mine. One copy of Tekken 5 = Mine.

I see you, mother.

You are in a hakama, your hair pulled back so tight that I can see all of your heart-shaped face. The brown in your eyes is lighter than what I remember, but I can still feel that gentle force behind them. That flowing strength. There is a determination on your face that makes me think back to the time you silently swore to yourself, without ever knowing that I was aware of you in the dim light, that you will be strong for me. You close your eyes and begin your dance.

And as you move across the floor, thrusting your fists into some invisible opponent, I can feel something different. Anger. The wild rush of your jabs and the swiftness of your kicks. I can almost feel your foot connecting with my face; can almost feel the judgment of your wrath on the demon that resides within me. And then you suddenly stop, eyes still shut, breathing in very quickly, the sweat on your face gleaming. You open your eyes again; this time they land on mine. You are surprised at first, surprised at the sight of someone else in this gymnasium, but then you smile. I don't remember this smile. Haughty, as if you're trying to teach me something you know I wouldn't get. It is a caustic smile, something that you would never wear. I then realize that she never was you.

I remember waking up.

I remember the taste of dirt in my mouth, mixed with the iron tang of blood. I remember spitting the dirt away and rubbing the sleepy haze away from my eyes. I remember the fire engulfing our home, a blazing inferno of red spreading quickly towards the forest. And those eyes. Those dark, red, unmerciful eyes boring into mine before I lost all consciousness. Before I could stop him from hurting you, from taking you away.

I could've stopped him. But I was never as strong as you were. I was never strong enough to protect you.

She walks toward me, a questioning look on her face. You, she starts, what the hell are you looking at?

I look at her face more closely and I still see you, mother. If only a little bit. I see you in the color of her eyes. I see you in the shape of her lips, in the red of her cheeks. She notices the silence between us and my probing eyes on her face before her cheeks turn darker a notch.

Nothing, Asuka. I say. She frowns and backs away slowly; looking even more flustered and confused than before, and then she leaves.

But I could still see the ghost of her movements on the gymnasium floor. And if I just close my eyes for a second, I think, mother, I could see you sparring against those invisible demons again. This time I'll fight them with you.

A/N: Ah. Please pardon me for any grammatical infractions that you might find here. I'm sort of slow when it comes to spotting them, even if I reread the whole thing over and over again. Yes. Jin. Angsting about mommy. I'm not sure if I got his character right, but I tried. *sighs*. Anyway, review please? For the sake of all mankind? Thank you. :)