/If written like this,/ it's Devil.

/If written like this,/ it's Angel.

If written like this, it's thought.

Prologue: Darkness

His heartbeat increased rapidly with every step he took into the open arena, chocolate brown eyes staring right back into his opponents. Beckoning him, challenging him... Torturing him. Those opposing eyes belonged to his father, Kazuya Mishima; and they conveyed something more than hate - they contained possession. Jin had never seen his father look so angry, and god, did Kazuya get angry at best. He'd been at the opposite end of that stick many times. Jin had not long stopped, sliding his trench coat off of his broad shoulders to reveal a bare chest, not six feet away from Kazuya, when the Devil spoke.

/ If you proceed with this pathetic attempt at redemption, you will be destroyed without a second thought. /

Kazama suppressed a smirk, clenching and releasing his fists, foreseeing the loss of skin from scathed knuckles, sweat beading in large droplets on his forehead as a raging battle ensues between belligerent father and son, and most importantly of all - the deprivation of his soul.

But Jin didn't care if it was his skin torn, his bones broken or his soul damned. As long as it wasn't...

/ Hers. /

Yes... Hers.

Upon hearing the Devil within mention that one word, his eyes scanned the bleachers surrounding the fighting arena for that particular person. First, he saw Xiaoyu, grinning madly and waving to him - Jin smiled. Next, to Hwoarang, who didn't look too happy to be there, in all honesty. His mouth was turned down in a characteristic frown, but Jin hadn't expected anything else. That was what Hwoarang was like when his best friend wasn't there.

All of a sudden, an uncontrollable rage spread within the young Kazama. He wanted nothing more than to rip every last shred of mortal coil from Kazuya's body. But, no, he'd save that for later on in the fight if he had no other alternative plans of attack.

Kazuya smirked as both Japanese men slid into their stances, "I warned you to stay away from the Greek. But you did not listen...continuing to infect her tormented and abused flesh...with vile Kazama skin. Oh, how like a parasite, you are, my son."

"I am no son of yours, Kazuya," Jin hissed, eyes narrowed into deadly slits, "You will eat those words."

It seemed that those words seemed to please him, since instead of backing off like any sane person would do, he took a step forward - and laughed, "Do you know what I could do to her?"

Jin's eyes flickered to where Hwoarang was seated, leaning forward on his seat, itching his palms. A little characteristic he'd picked up off of Razer, like she had picked up his habit of scratching the back of his head. He was clearly as pissed as Kazama, but Jin was lucky enough to have the opportunity of throttling Kazuya, unlike the Blood Talon, who had to just sit there and watch those hurtful words about Razer be spoken. It killed him inside...knowing that he was powerless to stop it.

That was what hurt him most.

He promised to protect her, and he had failed, for she was currently led in a hospital bed with severe injuries and bruises...all caused by the hands of the beast that was Kazuya Mishima.

Seong-Hada remained silent throughout the whole procedure. He knew how important the upcoming fight was to Hwoarang and to Jin; especially to Jin. His eyes flicked nervously from his former gang leader to his acquaintance in the arena with Mishima. Seong-Hada didn't even spark up a conversation with Xiaoyu because he was so nervous. Razer is in bad enough shape as it is. I don't wanna dig a deeper hole for myself by getting on Hwoarang's nerves, he thought.

"I do not want to know and I do not need to know. You will never get your hands on Razer without having to go through me!"

/ Do you smell that, Kazuya? /

The younger Mishima did, in fact. He could smell the fear on Jin, even if the latter tried his best to cover it up with monotonous emotion - albeit badly.

It was blood. Athane's blood was pulsing strong in Jin's veins and that only infuriated Kazuya more, left eye glowing red like a beacon, drawing all things wicked and evil like a clarion call.

/ No, Kazuya, look with greater eyes. If our son has tasted the Greek's blood...then Razer...will come like a dog to it's masters call. The cards are once again turned in our favour. Our son's advantage has shifted and the game has become more interesting. /

Jin had been the first to slip into stance and was already faltering, too unsteady to return it to proper form.

/ Listen to me, you pathetic, little fagin. You can win this battle if you just let me fight! /

Never, Jin hissed inwardly.

/ You will need me sometime, Mortal. Pass this offer up and you won't have a back-up plan. Razer would have inflicted those wounds for nothing and you will forever be wrapped in the arms of guilt. /

I don't need you to fight my battles. I can control my actions alone, Kazama warned, fatal lightning beginning to swirl his forearms.

/ Oh, really? / Unconscious thoughts began to fill Jin's mind, images of him and Razer, in Devil form, fighting high up in the sky over the Cathedral, both too tired to carry on but both too bent on winning to care.

Stop it, Jin whispered as tears began to fill his eyes, that horrible lump emerging in his throat. The Devil within grinned at the sight of Kazama's emotional visage and pulled the image from his mind. / Do we have a deal? /

Before Jin had time to even think about the question, Kazuya had thrown himself at the unsuspecting Japanese man, grasping his son by the throat and squeezing hard, pushing the air out of him, "You will not abate me, filth. If so, you will suffer the consequences severely, do you understand?" Jin said nothing, pressing his thumb into Kazuya's wrist to find a pressure point - but failed. Kazuya grinned and threw the young Kazama roughly to the ground and walked backwards a little, eyes boring into Jin's own.

"I don't think you quite understand the situation, Kazuya. If Razer dies... I die."

"Is putting your own life at risk really worth that Greek filth?"

Those hurtful words greeted Jin and Hwoarang like a slap to the face. They stung, and lingered there long after the offence had taken place. The Blood Talon's eyes narrowed, knuckles whitening as his fists curled ever more tighter that nails threatened to tear through the skin. He sharply bit his lip to refrain himself from saying anything. He did not want another run in from Kazuya. Last time he did, he was on crutches for a fortnight.

"Of course it is. Razer is my friend and my world and I am not going to let your hands near her ever again. Even if my own life is put on the line."

/ Jin... Whatever you're doing, don't. /

Since when did you care about my well-being? I thought I was merely your puppet; nothing more than a plaything.

/ Yes. But if you die, then I die as well. /

What is wrong with that? I quite like that idea, if you ask me,Jin smirked.

/ Fuck you, asshole. /

Jin smiled - very barely - but a smile, none the less. It very shortly disappeared, though, when Kazuya gave such a cold smile, that the young Kazama thought that the temperature around him had suddenly dropped. He felt himself getting sicker in that silence. It was excruciating…but he refused to show it.

"We will meet again, Jin. Sooner than you think," Kazuya stated, turning and tugging at his purple tuxedo jacket, strolling out of the arena as if it were a mere walk in the park.

"Wait! But we have a... Match." Jin trailed off at the end as the referee announced the winner.

"The winner by default is Jin Kazama!"

Cheers from the supporters and boos from the opposers were heard all around him, but all Jin heard was the blood pumping in his ears, the quickening beats of his heart; his rapid breathing.

/ He is planning something. This will not turn out good for Athane if you do not act now. /

A string of Japanese profanities littered the air as Kazuya left. He understood every word that uncharacteristically escaped his son's lips. He was Japanese, after all. He payed no mind to it as he walked away... The plans forming in his thoughts to lay the trap and get to the prize, and that prize...

...Was Razer.

It was not the peaceful, dreamless sleep she had yearned for - of course not. She was in that forest again, and she started to wander the way she always did.

She quickly became aware that this was not the same dream as usual. For one thing, she felt no compulsion to wander or to search; she was merely wandering out of habit, because that was what was usually expected of her there. Actually, this wasn't even the same forest. The smell was different, and the light, too. It smelled not like the earth of the woods, but like the brine of the ocean. Razer couldn't see the sky; still, she knew it was sunny - the leaves overhead were bright jade green, ironically, the same colour as her eyes.

This was the forest around Yakushima - near the coast there, she was sure of it. She knew that if she found the coast, she's see the sun, so she hurried forward, following the faint sound of waves in the distance.

And then Hwoarang was there. He grabbed Razer's hand, pulling her back towards where she came from - the blackest part of the woods.

"Hwoarang? What's wrong?" she asked. His face was the frightened face of a boy. He yanked with all his strength, but she resisted; she didn't want to go back into the dark.

"Run, Raze, you have to run!" he whispered, terrified.

The abrupt wave of déjà vu was so strong it nearly woke her up.

She knew why she recognised this place now. It was because she'd been here before, in another dream. A million years ago, part of a different life entirely. This was the dream Razer had when her and Jin had first broken up, the first night for years that she'd felt torn apart again. Relieving that day with Hwoarang after must have dredged the dream from deep within her buried memories. Detached from the dream now, she waited for it to play out. But she was getting ahead of herself. Something else had to happen first.

Hwoarang dropped her hand and yelped. Shaking and twitching, he fell to the ground at her feet, "Hwoarang!" she screamed, but he was gone.

In his place was an enormous, purple being with intelligent, crimson eyes. This being was gigantic, monstrous, bigger than her when in Devil form.

... Devil form.

The Devil-but-still-Hwoarang stared intently at her, trying to convey something vital with his blood-red eyes. The sienna, familiar eyes of Hwoarang, her best friend.Razer woke up screaming at the top of her lungs.

Razer knew she would feel better tomorrow when she was with Hwoarang again. That made the empty hole and familiar pain easier to bear; relief was in sight. Her frequent nightmares, too, had lost a little of their potency. She was horrified by the nothingness, as always, but she was also strangely impatient as she waited for the moment that would send her screaming in unconsciousness. She knew that the nightmare had to end.

She almost expected a nurse to come in and check on her that time. This wasn't her usual screaming. Razer buried her head into the pillow and tried to muffle the hysterics that her screams were building into. She pressed the cotton tight against her face, wondering in she couln't somehow smother the realisation she had just made. Kazuya was coming after her, and he would not stop until she was taken by his hand. She realised from the nightmare exactly how dangerous he was - she had underestimated his power - he would destroy anything and anyone who got in his way.

Jin, Hwoarang, Seong - Hada, they could all die because of her. Well, in Hwoarang's case, die again, but all the same, their fate would be on her hands if she did not act upon this new obstacle that was Kazuya Mishima.

But the nurse didn't come in, and eventually she was able to strangle the strange screeching coming out of her throat.