Prologue: Memory Loss

It had to be the worst storm ever. Rain lashed relentlessly at the windows, thunder and lightning followed in quick succession. The residents of the small wooded village had locked themselves into their houses, waiting for the storm to pass.

A bright flash of lightning lit up a lone figure, stumbling and falling out of the forest, up the muddy path. A house on the very outskirts of the village seemed to be his destination. For a moment, he stumbled and fell. It looked as if he wasn't going to get up, but he forced himself up and further onwards.

Reaching the house, he collapsed to his knees. Another loud rumble of thunder drowned out his weak attempt at a knock. With a groan, he let his head fall against the door, which seemed to finally catch the attention of the house's occupant. A curtain twitched and a wizened face looked through the rain. Wrinkled eyes widened in shock as they took in the young man on the doorstep.

The door opened, letting the youth fall into the house. After a weak attempt to get up, unconsciousness finally overtook him and he collapsed completely.

"My god!" the old man gasped. Grabbing the youth's arms, he hauled him upright – with difficulty – and half dragged, half carried him to the shabby living room. The old man dropped him onto a sagging sofa.

The young man groaned, but didn't open his eyes. He didn't look like he had been in an accident, fight or any kind of trouble. However, it was still obvious that he was hurt in some way. The old man hesitated and then left the room. The boy was unconscious; there wasn't much he could really do. When he came back – with a towel and water – the boy was starting to wake up. The older man sat on the other end of the sofa.

"It's okay," the old man said as the youth's eyes opened in alarm, "you're safe."

"Where am I?" he asked hoarsely.

The old man noticed an accent to the boy's voice. It sounded Japanese. Now he looked, the boy had pitch black hair and very dark brown eyes. His face was definitely Japanese. He was also only wearing trousers and trainers, no shirt. Well, that's a bit stupid...

The old man shook his head and answered the boy's question. "You didn't know?" he said, worriedly.

A frown creased the youth's forehead. "No." He sat up, slowly, and winced. Rubbing his head, the boy looked like he was straining to remember something.

"Here, I got you a towel." The old man said, offering the towel. The boy looked up, his lips twitching into a small smile. Taking the towel, he started to dry his hair. The old man watched him, trying to figure out what a young Japanese boy was doing in his living room, with apparently no memory of how he got to the village.

"What happened to you?"

The boy paused. "...I'm not sure."

"You're not sure? You must have some idea. What were you doing out in that storm anyway?" the man indicated outside, where the rain still lashed against the windows. The boy's shoulder's slumped.

"I...I really can't remember..." the boy looked as if he were about to break down. The old man shook his head slowly.

"You got anywhere to go, son?"

"No."

The old man sighed. "Right...well, I guess you can stay here for tonight."

The boy looked up in surprise. The old man smiled.

"What? Did you think I was going to abandon you to survive on your own in this weather?"

"Thank you..." the boy said, bowing his head. "That is very kind of you."

"Just one thing..." the old man said. "Promise me you're not some nut job who's going to kill me."

The boy laughed and stood. "I promise."

"And that you're not a criminal on the run."

"Ah," the boy frowned slightly. "As to that...I'm not sure. But I won't bring you any trouble, I swear."

The old man smiled, then tilted his head, examining the boy.

"What's that?"

"Huh?" the boy looked where the old man was pointing. At his left arm, near the shoulder. At the black tattoo there. The boy's eyes narrowed and he tensed unconsciously.

"This...is nothing."

The old man seemed to notice the boy's sudden change in mood and turned away. "What's your name, boy?"

The youth lowered his head for a moment. He looked up.

"Jin Kazama."