I can't stand it anymore. I need to write. It's time to start over. Even though all of my other stories are gone, it's time for me to begin new things. It might take me much longer to update, but at least I'm writing.

I'll start off with this story, a story based upon Julia Chang's life, my favorite female Tekken character. Why her? She seems overly obsessed with nature and so bland and ordinary. Well…not to me. There are too many stories out there with Ling Xiaoyu and I'm tired of seeing the same ideas getting recycled over and over again with her. Now that I notice this, I think Lonely Heart is the only story I'll ever write with her as a main character. I'd like to see more Nina, Julia, and Asuka stories. So, now I'm focusing on Julia Chang.

In my story, Julia is Michelle's biological daughter, and she also isn't overly obsessed about nature. Namco is way too stereotypical when it comes to her, 'cause Native Americans aren't always all about nature and feathers in their hair, so I'll be sure to change that.

Have you guys read Love Found? It's one of my stories with Julia in it, and unfortunately I had to delete it, so now nobody gets to read it if interested. Anyway, I mention this because this is Julia's story before the events of Love Found. However, if you haven't read it, then don't worry, it's not necessary. It's just an FYI for my fans who have read it.

So, enjoy. Hopefully you won't judge my story based upon what characters/pairings are in it. I'd rather you judge my story based upon my writing style, and I'm always open to constructive criticism. Hope you enjoy it. Don't forget to review if you can!

Note: Later on the story will be very Julia x Jin and if you knew me better, you'd know that I dislike this pairing, but I'm making them together because it's necessary. If you have a problem, don't read this story. I don't need flames. In my opinion, Julia and Jin make a rather bland couple, and Julia and Hwoarang should be together. Also, Jin was meant for Ling. Ok, I'll shut up. Now to the story…

Michelle's Daughter

Everyday I thank the Gods and spirits that I live the life I do now. I don't know what I would have done if my life had not changed the way it had.

I wonder what it could have been like if I'd never met Hwoarang. I wonder what life could have been like if my mother had never been murdered, if I'd never met Jin Kazama, if I'd never left Arizona in the first place, if I'd never learned the arts of combat that has taught me the world's violent ways…

In the end all my choices have brought me here to this place, where I am finally at peace. In the end, it has molded me into the person I am today. Here, in happiness, I may enclose myself in my own world and forget the dark shadows of my past. I may only murmur words of love, utter only laughter, and never have to worry about sorrow or anger. Some say the only way goodness can be born is through suffering. And yes, I have suffered. But it was worthwhile I guess, because it helped me achieve joy in the end.

It was years ago, back when I had no place to go, back when I was a mere, innocent child ignorant of the world. My mother and her tribe were all that I knew. As a child, I was quiet, mature for my age, smarter than most, (I must sound conceited, but I state only facts) but still innocent all the same. To me, the sun always smiled, the summer breeze seemed always to whisper with laughter. But later, as I grew, for the first time I felt the sun's vicious burn and the violent howl of the wind. I did not yet understand that there was a light and darkness to everything, that life wasn't just all about my mother's embraces and little birthday gifts.

I felt that, even wrapped up in my mother's loving arms, that she wasn't telling me everything. There was something out there waiting for me. My heart has always been a wanderer, always seeking new things, curious, free-spirited…however, I led a pretty ordinary life.

That is, until I met Jin Kazama while in college. At the time I didn't know who he was…wait, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Yes, I was born on a cool spring morning in the heart of Arizona; I was named, raised, and loved. But I think my life truly began when I took that first step onto Mexican soil when I was twenty…again, I'm getting ahead of myself.

This is my life.

Michelle

"What is to be her name?"

Cora, my older sister, looks down at the baby in my arms, the turquoise beads of the Navajo slung loosely about her neck and wrists.

"Ajijawk," I sighed as I gazed down into my daughter's serene face. She was so beautiful when she slept, and even more so when her eyes were open, gazing up at me with that cool stare.

"Crane…it somehow suits her, Michelle, though it is a popular name among our people," Cora remarked.

"Yes, it fits her well. She has brought me hope and joy."

"But…she was born in a white man's world, Sister. Even though our people have been here for hundreds of years before the white demons ever came, this land is now under their rule."

"Land cannot be ruled, or bought…" I muttered, feeling the familiar bitterness throb in my chest.

"It is useless, Michelle. Hundred-year old bitterness will get you nowhere. Our ancestors have already failed to convince the white man of this. My point is you should give your daughter an Americanized name also."

"Anglo, you mean," I hissed, spitting out the word.

Cora hesitated. "Yes. It will be easier for her in the future. The white man's tongues are thick and heavy, and they do not utter our language, and refuse to speak any other but their own. You should pity them."

"What use have they of my pity? Why don't they give their children Navajo names too?" I murmured, my voice laced with bitterness.

"Michelle," Cora said grimly, ignoring my last remark.

I sighed. My sister was right. "I knew you would do this, but you're right. I've been thinking...I like…Julia."

"Joo-lee-aa. Julia? Why not Jessica, or Katherine?"

"Common names. Ordinary, bland."

"…or maybe Christina? Alicia?" Cora persisted.

"Julia," I said firmly.

Cora thought for a moment, gazing down at my daughter. Slowly, she nodded in consent. I knew she'd agree with me eventually.

"I guess so. You are talented with names, Michelle. Again, this name seems to fit," she stated.

I smiled down at my sleeping child cradled in my arms. Gently, I kissed her forehead.

"Yes, my little Crane. My Julia…"

Julia had barely reached her fourth month when my lover (no he wasn't my husband) decided to abandon us. He had stayed for three months just to keep up some of his reputation for impregnating me before marriage…but it seems now that he'd had enough.

"Han, you can't do this! We have a daughter," I protested. I did not even have the strength to raise my voice. The sadness and disappointment was far too great.

"We're not even married, Michelle," Han murmured.

"That's because you refused me! I wanted, and still want, to marry you," I sobbed. I'd wanted so much to marry this man. What a stupid, naïve little girl I was, and now he was going to abandon our three-month old daughter and me.

Han bowed his head and pressed his lips together. Han Liu was a beautiful man, and when we'd met in Beijing I thought I'd met my match. I'd been visiting my father in Hong Kong at the time, and when Han had later impregnated me, I'd decided at the last moment to have Julia born in my mother's native lands: Arizona. I thought everything was going perfectly, that Han would propose, we'd raise Julia together…I guess I was wrong. I was wrong about many things. He had blessed me with a beautiful daughter, but that was the only good thing about my lover at the moment.

Seething with self-loathing and sorrow, I could only weep silently as Han refused to meet my gaze. Damn him. Damn myself, I who refuse to stop loving him even now! I had thought that I could finally start a family, young as I was. I was only twenty, and I don't know why I ever let Han take advantage of me.

"Why are you leaving?" I asked again for what seemed like the hundredth time. My voice ached with desperation, and I hated myself some more for sounding so weak and dependent. Were all these tears for my child or for my own selfish reasons? Yes, Julia needed her father…but I also didn't want to be alone.

"My family needs me in China," was his lame excuse, and finally the fury I had suppressed came rushing forth.

"No! You're family is here, with your daughter and me. You're going to stay and be a father to her, goddammit! I already know that your heart feels no love for me, but don't you dare leave your own child!" I cried.

Han tried to disguise the look of distaste as he gazed down at Julia in the crib, but I saw right through his flimsy façade. He was going to leave no matter what I said. He was that cold of a man, and for the first time in my two years of dating him, I finally saw the true nature of the man I had fallen for. No, he wasn't a man at all. Just a foolish boy who hadn't been able to keep his pants zipped.

After this realization came the shame. I should have known better…

"Is it because I'm half Navajo, Han? Is that it? I'm not pure enough for you?" I growled.

"It's not that," he sighed without looking at me.

I was the daughter of a Navajo woman and a Chinese man. An odd mix, but I'd always been proud of my heritage. No doubt it made me somewhat of an outsider, but my Navajo family accepted me nonetheless. That's one of the greatest aspects of the Native American peoples: they will love you no matter what, pale skinned or dark. Just as long as you had a good, kind heart, the exterior never mattered.

After calming down slightly, I whispered, "Is it because Julia is a girl, Han?"

I had heard that in China girls were seen as inferior, disrespected, and often times discarded or put up for adoption after birth. I would never understand it. What difference does it make if a man and woman have a daughter or son?

Han does not answer, but he does not deny my inquiry either.

"Have you met a woman? In China?" I asked, the tears taking form behind my eyes.

Again, he is silent, and again he doesn't deny my words.

"I'm leaving in the morning," was his grim reply, and for the last time those dark eyes I had fallen in love with looked into mine. There was nothing but emptiness in his irises. Glassy, porcelain-doll eyes, cold…

And so I had no choice but to raise my daughter alone, and I knew that sooner or later, my little crane would wonder why she didn't have a dad like everyone else. And it was my job to make it as painless as possible when I told her that he'd betrayed us.

Six years later…

Julia had taken it well. When she was five she asked where Daddy had gone, why there was no man in the house like all of her peers. And I told her the truth, never lied or sugarcoated anything. If I'd lied, my daughter could always see through it all anyway. I hate lying, especially to my own kid, so when I started crying, Julia took me into her stubby arms and apologized.

"Don't cry, Ama. I'm so sorry I made you cry. But don't worry! We're a team. We don't need Daddy anymore," she had said once and then scampered outside again to play. She never mentioned her father again, not because she truly didn't care, but only for my sake.

Juliahadn't shed one tear, though after that day, and for the years onward, I would catch my daughter staring enviously at her neighbors' fathers…but she was too strong and proud to admit any of her desires.

Cora had suggested that I give Julia a Chinese name, to remind Julia of the other half of her heritage, but I refused, even though I was half Chinese myself. She would have no part of that man, except for that small portion of his blood he'd put into her veins, a part that could not be helped. I was relieved when she'd chosen to take my last name too.

"Keep your fists closed, little one," I murmured as I helped Julia regain her balance and find the correct formation.

Since she was five I've been training her in the martial arts, as I was trained in. A woman should always be able to defend herself, and Julia is already showing signs of intelligence, young as she is. After she has mastered her fists, she will learn to use her tongue as well to defend herself and stand up for what is right. Julia is not strong enough yet, but her technique flourishes, and I love to see her eyebrows all scrunched up in fierce concentration. She has always sought to please me, and my heart throbbed with love for her. Han's betrayal no longer hurt so much, and all that mattered now was raising my child in the right way.

Julia had taken mostly after me, which I was grateful for, though I'd love my daughter in any form she took. I just didn't want to be reminded of the man who'd deserted us six years ago. Her hair was long, dark, smooth, hair that would make any Native American woman proud. Her skin was golden, not the usual dark tan of the Navajo, and her mouth was full. Julia's eyes were as dark as her father's though I saw no emptiness within them as I had seen in Han's. She was so full of life, beautiful, and extremely shy. The only time Julia ever spoke freely was when she was either with me, her Aunt Cora, or her cousin Gabriel, Cora's son.

Julia liked to explore nature, such as the deep gorges and canyons in Arizona, or linger in the ancient caves, curious, always sending me into a frenzy looking for her by the end of the day, but she always knew the way home. She liked to read too, and paint, and I often worried if she had enough friends. Julia didn't mind being alone, although sometimes I heard her praying for a friend when she thought I wasn't listening.

And, even though she was one of the top students in her grade, my little crane suffered in school. Her companions (though never her Navajo peers) bullied her, jeering, "Little half breed", "Julia has no father, what a disgrace", and mercilessly taunted her about her "tainted blood."

The school had called me one day, a day when Julia hadn't come home on time. I'd driven there in a panic, wondering what had happened. And there my little girl sat, looking so small in the principal's leather chair, a look of suppressed fury on her usually calm face, her mouth set in a harsh line.

"Ms. Chang, I'm glad you're here. We're here to discuss your daughter's behavior today," the principal had drawled smoothly as she'd fixed her glasses on her nose.

"Julia is a good child. What did she do?" I'd asked. This was the first time (but not the last) that Julia had been in the principal's office.

The principal glared at me, then forced her face to relax.

"She kicked a boy in his—ah, groin, and gave a girl a bloody nose."

Julia was getting into fights now? But I knew my daughter. She was always peaceful, and would never initiate a fight. I knew without even asking Julia that my daughter had only been defending herself.

"Tell me, Principal Jenson, did these children happen to call my child any names? Julia would never start trouble," I said slowly.

"The boy said that he had only wanted to play with Julia when she all of a sudden kicked him," the principal said, ignoring my inquiry.

Usually quiet when angered, Julia suddenly reared up and in her high-pitched, six-year-old voice, shrieked, "He's a liar! He called me a freak because I'm half Chinese and half Navajo!"

"Settle down, Aji," I murmured and Julia immediately quieted. Her face turned pink though from holding in her fury.

"I suggest you apologize to the boy and to the girl, Julia," said the principal.

"Excuse me, unless you have proof that my child started this ordeal, Julia is apologizing to no one."

"Ms. Chang—"

"I will talk to Julia, but I am highly displeased with this school system for failing to protect my child," I stated, my voice going dangerously soft.

"Well, ah, Ms. Chang, we—"

"Have a nice day, Ms. Jenson."

Julia hadn't said a word to me until we reached the car.

"You believe me, Ama?" she asked in awe, her eyes round. (A/N: Ama means mother)

"Of course. I'll always believe you. I know you're a good girl and you'd never do such a thing," I replied as I placed her backpack at her feet, then shut the door.

"It's a good thing you are teaching me to fight, because that boy stood no chance against me. Boy, you shoulda seen the look on his face when I kicked him!" she crowed, a smile breaking on her face.

"Now, now, Jules, don't act like that. Yes, it was in self-defense, but you must never take pleasure in someone else's pain, alright? We fight to protect Mother Earth, not to destroy," I reprimanded softly.

"It was only a playground fight, Ama. I was not harming Mother Earth," Julia explained softly.

"I know. But remember that anyway, ok?"

"Okay," Julia said quietly.

But when she was gazing out the window, I smiled to myself. That little jerk deserved that kick in his crotch.

My own mother, Vivian Chang, is long dead. And from her trunk of belongings I remove one of the most sacred objects of my tribe.

The medallion gleams golden in my grasp, the thin chain tinkling softly as it moves between my fingers. The gold is slightly faded, dulled, but the ancient inscriptions and designs are still there…and as long as it was readable, as long as this medallion was in existence, I wouldn't ever be truly safe. And if I wasn't safe, then neither was Julia, who was only six.

"You have not touched that thing for years, Sister."

Cora lingers in the doorway, a basket of laundry in her arms.

I clutch the medallion to my chest and swallow hard. "Heihachi still covets it, doesn't he? As does Kazuya?"

My sister sets down the basket and comes to where I sit.

"Yes. But it has been seven years, Michelle, and they have left you alone," she said, trying to ease my restless mind.

I shake my head. "Perhaps…or maybe they are just waiting for the best time to attack, as a rattler prepares for its perfect strike upon the prey…"

"You shouldn't think like that, Michelle," Cora said softly, though there was doubt in her voice.

Both of us just sat there, staring down at the medallion. Seven years ago, I'd entered the second Iron Fist Tournament, hoping to find my father who'd suddenly disappeared. However, instead of a simple martial arts competition, I'd found myself trapped in a world of evil and secrets. It was not until Heihachi and Kazuya had tried to kidnap me did I learn of the true purpose of the medallion, which had been in my tribe for several generations. Supposedly, this medallion was the key to a great treasure, and the Mishimas desired it. I'd heard nothing of such a treasure, but if there indeed was one, then it belonged to the Navajo and the land only, not to some greedy Japanese bastards.

I'd also heard that the Devil blood flowed in Kazuya's veins, clouding his humanity and goodness. Rumor also said that the God of Fighting, known to others as "Ogre," would come, transforming myth into reality. My people believed fiercely in this God of Fighting, feared it, and I did not want him here, not when I'd just begun to raise my daughter. Julia could not be reared in a land riddled with hatred and evil.

Then, I said to my sister, "I heard Kazuya was involved with Jun Kazama."

Cora raised her head in interest. "That environmentalist woman, right? She seems nice enough. She loves the land as we do."

"Sure she does. But I'd heard something else too."

Cora waited for me to continue.

"I heard she bore Kazuya a child, a son, just a year before Julia was born."

My sister sighed, bored. "So what? Women have kids all the time."

"You don't understand. He is only a year older than Julia, and it's possible that he may carry the Devil's blood within him like his father does. And, Heihachi and Kazuya are interested in my medallion…"

"And…?" Cora still didn't get it.

"And later on, if we aren't careful, Jun and Kazuya's son could get involved with Julia, as his grandfather was involved with me. I can't let that happen, Cora. The Mishimas are cursed, and God forbid they hurt my daughter."

"Do not worry, Michelle. Neither Heihachi nor Kazuya's son will ever lay a hand on Julia," Cora insisted.

I was not so sure.

"I wish I could believe you, Cora. Let us just hope that little Julia will never get entangled into the Mishima's web of deceit."

And for the oncoming years, I desperately shielded Julia from the Mishimas. But there would come a time when my daughter would have to learn to fend for herself, and that left her vulnerable to whatever Heihachi and Kazuya planned.

But, I didn't know until much too late that it wasn't Heihachi or Kazuya Mishima that I should have worried about.

For in the hidden sanctuary of Yakushima forest, Jun Kazama also raised her child alone, as I did in Arizona…

So, what do you guys think? Boring? Yeah, it will be a little bit in the beginning. Your feedback is appreciated though!