If it is in normal style, then it is speech.
If it is in italics, then it is thought.
If it is in
bold, then it is the individual's natural tongue.
If it is in
underline, then it is Devil.


Author's Note: This chapter has been edited (30/05/09).


Chapter Eleven: The Confrontation

The next day again witnessed two battles, again at the same times. The first fight was between Eddy Gordo and Kuma. The former had triumphed over the latter, albeit barely. He too had to go to hospital for his injuries, especially due to the gaping wound on his shoulder. Kuma had torn a substantial amount of flesh off, but he pursued onward and was rewarded with both pain and victory.

The second fight was between Ling Xiaoyu and Mokujin. The Chinese youth had not originally seen her opponent. She had wondered where he or she was, as she stood alone in the arena. Her eyes had passed over Jin and Miharu, who were her support for the fight. She had even asked Jin if he had seen her opponent, and her response was a silent shake of the head. When her opponent did arrive, she was flabbergasted. She had yelled initially, "I'm fighting a tree!?"

Despite the fact that it was a wooden training dummy, Ling still annihilated it with a cartwheel kick to its knee, breaking the timber, thus rendering it unable to attack. What annoyed her the most about it was the fact that it would not stay down, and that it'd constantly mimic styles. At one point, it intimidated her own, something which she found annoying and insulting.

Now though, on the third day of the third Tournament, Xiaoyu sat on the sidelines with Jin, watching him maintain silence. By his side was an mp3 player, which he had been listening to earlier; and his training bag. His hands were firmly resting on his knees, as he breathed in and out calmly. There were about five or so minutes before his battle against one Forrest Law, and he was completely ready.

"You looking forward to the fight, big guy?"

"I am not fussed. I have a task to accomplish in this tournament. Please, Xiao, stop asking me questions."

She sighed and looked to her feet, which she swung back and forth childishly. No matter how much she tried to get him to talk and become social, it failed. This was the way he was going to be, and she couldn't change this, much to her displeasure. She would've loved it if he was a social butterfly, but sadly, he wasn't. There was a reason he kept so silent and as stoic as possible, but… she didn't know what it was, and considering his secretive nature, she wasn't sure she would ever know.

Elsewhere in the crowd stood Razer. She was amongst the people in the back, quiet as always. She too was waiting for the match to start, and fast. Jin may not have been at her fight two days prior, but she still felt obliged to support him in his first fight. He was clearly the type that only fought if he had to. He didn't want to, but he entered this tournament, for whatever reason, and would see it through to the very end.

Four hours ago, Hwoarang had defeated his opponent, Bryan Fury. She couldn't help but laugh when the Korean stared at his opponent during the battle, repeatedly calling him a 'fucking psycho' under his breath. His statement was supported quite often due to Fury's psychotic laughter, especially when he landed a good hit. He was creepy.

Surprisingly, Bryan was a challenge for her best friend. The Korean couldn't find the weak spot on his opponent, and had simply resorted to wearing down his opponent as quickly as possible through various pokes. The battle lasted for twenty minutes, and it ended with his favourite throw named Falcon Dice Kick. With that well timed attack, Bryan was knocked out.

In victory, Hwoarang immediately hit the showers to sooth his aching muscles. He offered to spar with Razer, however she had turned down the offer in favour of 'sight seeing'. She had come here secretly because she was aware that the Blood Talon detested her new friend. She didn't want the rift between the two males to get any thicker or worse.

The announcer boomed, "And now, for the six match of the King Of Iron Fist Tournament 3! Jin Kazama v.s. Forrest Law! Both are sons of former competitors, both of whom were fierce in battle… Let's see who, from these two warriors, in this new generation of fighters, will win!"

Jin looked to Xiaoyu and smiled slightly, before standing and making his way towards the stage. The smile slipped from his face, and in its place was hardened resolve. He could hear the people scream in the crowd – screaming for blood, screaming for guts, screaming for broken bones and hate and anger and even death, in some cases. None of these appealed to him – he just wanted to win. His Chinese-American opponent was already standing in the arena, in his stance, jumping from one foot to the next.

Jin got into his own stance. The announcer cleared his throat, "Three… two… one… fight!"

Law threw to punches and kicked him, back-flipping in the air to do so, making whooping noises in the process. He raised a curvy eyebrow, surprised at the lack of grunts or 'hiyah' noises. He shrugged it aside, well aware that Heihachi was watching him and shaking his head in disgust at his distraction. Jin thrust forth a left punch, but his opponent moved out of the way and conducted two consecutive back flips, sending him into the air. He landed on his side and kicked his opponent away.

He ran over and conducted Laser Cannon, which was three, swerving punches. The corner of the 19-year-old's lips twitched slightly, upturning into a smirk, as Forrest staggered backwards. When he regainted his balance, the youth sent a fury of smaller punches at the Japanese boy, all of which were easily blocked. Kazama's hand darted out, keeping him still for a moment, before smashing his head against his foe's, sending him straight to the ground.

It seems to me that you are not the only one with a stone head… Razer's Devil snorted.

In silence, the Greek continued to watch her friend. She was absorbed in his style, intrigued by it wholly. What style of martial arts was this? It was as though there were two types perfectly blended and intertwined with one another – one for offensive manoeuvres, the other for defensive ones. His punishing attacks were brutal, and graceful, all at the same time.

His body was also intriguing and impressive. He wasn't rock solid and huge, like King was; and he wasn't slim, like Baek and Hwoarang were. He was a little more solid and a little larger than her best friend, at least around his arms, chest and stomach. From what she could see, though, Hwoarang had bigger thigh muscles than Jin did, which made sense due to their fighting styles. Where as Jin was stronger than Hwoarang, Hwoarang was faster. The draw back in South Korea checked out now.

You are staring at him like a dog stares at a bone. Could it be possible that you're getting attached to the man, Athane?

I cannot get attached to him, she answered, Not while I have you. I cannot afford to be close to anybody while I have you, because you will take their lives… You will take them away from me, one way or another, whether it is by your own hand or by your influence. It is not fair on me, and it is not fair on the other person whilst you are here… Why do you think I have kept Hwoarang at an arms length for six years? Because of you, monster. It is your fault. Everything is.

And your arm bends, and you continue to draw Hwoarang closer to you, she growled, despite me being in the picture… Despite me being here, you still care. You still love him, even if you will not admit it to his face. And I wonder if you intend to do the same to Kazama. I wonder why you are looking to another man. I wonder how many hearts you want to hold in your hands, and I wonder if you will get pleasure by crushing them due to your stupidity.

Go away… she remarked feebly, scratching her arm.

Or are you only letting Kazama close to you because of me? Because he is just like you?

Go away, she said, her voice firmer. Her green eyes returned to the field of fighting.

It was clear that Forrest was worn down. His stance's jumps had slowed dramatically, and he was attacking far less. Jin thought that now would be the perfect time to end the battle. He grabbed law by the arm and performed the Double Face Kick attack. The first kick made his neck snap to the left, and the second one made his head snap to the right. His body fell, like a ton of bricks, straight into the cement flooring. Jin looked down at him before relaxing his stance, and turned away, victory his.

"Jin Kazama wins!"

Xiaoyu jumped off of her seat with a grin, and embraced the winner, "Way to go! You totally flattened him!"

"He did his best," he responded, patting her back, moving to gather his things, "That is all I could ever ask."

Heihachi came up to his grandson, his voice firm, "Well done, Jin. You won like a Mishima."

He scowled, "I am not, and I never will be, a Mishima."

"Whether you like it or not, boy, the Mishima blood within you will drown out your Kazama filth."

He glared at his Grandfather, "Don't you dare say that about my Mother!"

Xiaoyu looked between them both, obviously confused as to what the screaming was about. She understood Japanese, and referred to it as her 'native' tongue, even though she was Chinese – but as for the underlying meanings between Heihachi and Jin's exchange, she did not know what was going on. She inwardly sighed, seeing their angry faces, and turned to leave them, bounding after Miharu, who was waiting up ahead.

There will be a time where he will not take your attitude anymore. There will be a time where, in the darkest shadows, he will reach out and destroy you. He will kill you, Jin. That is your fate, and that is something you cannot escape.

I will never let that happen, he murmured quietly, No matter how bad… or how much of a monster you make me feel… I will not let anybody kill me, just so I can be rid of you. There has to be another way, there has to be.

She is here.

He looked up for a moment, curious, and moved his bangs from his face, What are you talking about?

She is here. I can smell her demon.

Jin's eyes scanned the area hurriedly. He found her at the back of the crowd, on the opposite side to him, turning to leave. He caught a hint of a grin on her face, and he couldn't help but smile as well. He appreciated her support.

What happened to your idea of solitude?

He looked down, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. Stupid devil.

"Come, boy! You will do some training with me, right now!" Heihachi pushed him along.

"But I just fought…" the teen commented, "Please… Please let me rest today…"

"No Mishima needs rest. No Mishima is weak! You will do as I say, boy! I would hate to see your friend hurt."

He narrowed his eyes, "Xiaoyu could take your petty Tekken Force soldiers down with ease. She's done it before."

"Xiaoyu was not the person I had in mind… I was referring to the girl you were staring at earlier."

"And like Xiao, she would crush them all below her boot," he hissed.

"Why are you so protective? What has she ever done for you?"

He was about to say 'she understands', but he held his tongue for her protection. Sighing, he followed his now-leading Grandfather back to the gym, unhappily awaiting more training, the reward for his victory, the reward for his already aching muscles. Unfortunately to him, Heihachi was already aware, due to the spy. Jin had even confronted him about it. But regardless, the elderly Mishima wanted to hear it from the child's mouth. He wanted to hear him say 'because she too has the Devil Gene.'

He would make his grandson say that, and he would push him further and further until he did. He swore it.