Hello everyone! I'm back again, and this time - with a Father's Day Special! :D *well, sort of.. I think :P * Irrespective, I hope you all enjoy this day to the fullest. :)

Anyhow, before I begin, just a bit of housekeeping first. I decided to edit the titles of the earlier chapters, so that they can constitute an 'arc' in this story, as opposed to being strictly chronological. I guess it just seems appropriate to have such titles, and in a way it helps in pacing the story as well - I guess this will become more relevant later on. In line with this, the previous 4 chapters have now been labeled as part of the first arc, 'Of Love and Loss' (cheesy, I know - but it just.. fits! xD)

For now - this fifth chapter that marks the beginning of a new arc, which I've titled 'Of Trials and Tribulations' (that should give a hint of what's to come in the next 2-3 chapters :) )

Not that's anything substantial, but just letting you all know:)

Now that's out of the way.. My round of thank-yous! :)

BrutusSilentium - No, my friend - you didn't specify before, but I'm certainly glad you think so! :D The Scorpion-Hanzo-Grandmaster trichotomy was fascinating for me to explore and write about, and I will most definitely revisit this again in the fic as well. Thanks soo much for the review! :D

Poe's Daughter - Let me first say your review truly and utterly brightened a rough-ish day for me when I first read it :) The fact that this fic got me such praise from a writer like you - I am truly humbled. Thank you soo much! :'D I understand Takeda seems a bit demure as of now, but I have set up some stuff ahead which will really bring out his spirited/excitable side.. As far as Dara and Suchin are concerned, I'm glad you took them like that, because that was precisely the image I wanted to paint for both of these. Even for Kenshi, but I'm gonna play around a bit with his feelings - I hope you enjoy this update as well! Thanks again 3

PunkRoseBlitz - Thanks very much for taking out time to read this! :D And I totally second that, Kenshi didn't get the love he deserved in the storymode, but that's what we Fanfic writers are here for, right? ;) I hope you like this too, thanks again! :)

icenagelmkx - I'm glad you enjoyed the Scorpion/Hanzo bit, I was a bit nervous writing it out, given how Scorps is practically the poster boy for MK. And I honestly felt the same, I was literally sure they would expand on the Hanzo/Kenshi bond in the game, and was actually quite furious they left it out. As for Kenshi, I'm delighted you feel that way - but unfortunately, Kenshi will suffer quite a bit at my hands in this fic.. I always pictured him as a tragic hero, you'll hopefully see that come to fruition as the story proceeds. As always, thank you soo much for making my day with the review! :D

Hell-on-Training-Wheels - Ohh, don't you worry about that, buddy! :) Your comments are truly very heart-warming, and uplifting - as I try and learn from the action/horror sequences that you wonderfully write! :) Thanks soo much for liking this story, I hope you enjoy this update as well! :)

Additional thank yous to all those who favourited and followed this: KimikoElenda, PunkRoseBlitz, YOMI RM JagoBlake, SurgicalAssassin, Hell-On-Training-Wheels, GetCaged and Minarvia. Thanks guys, and please do let me know what you think of this as well! :)

As always, I've two final term exams this week (it's astounding how my writing bug bites especially before my exams X_X). So in case I don't reply to PMs, which I'm most definitely guilty of, I apologise in advance and hope you all understand.. *sheepish grin* :)

Additional note: A thought occurred to me, which I feel I should have highlighted in the previous chapter (it's almost a missed opportunity, but not matter).. The word "Kenshi" literally means 'swordsman'. (I know 'Sword-saint' is a variation used often, but it's denoted by different Kanji, and reads more like 'kensei' than Kenshi). This sort of rings back to my earlier conception of Kenshi's origin, in line with the original timeline more than the new one. You'll find hints of it in this update, but I'll discuss it in detail later. Just giving you a heads up :)

And, as always, thoughts are in italics :)

Disclaimer: All characters belong to their original owners, I'm just playing with them for a while :)

The Takahashi Family Saga

Of Trials and Tribulations

I

"Sergeant Pierre, does your team have their position east of the base?"

"Yes, Kenshi-san. We've got the eastern gate, the helipad and the runway fully covered. An additional back-up force is also in place."

"Good. And the decoys?"

"Decoy 'A' bound for Manchuria by sea, has departed already – 'X' and 'N' are at their locations - ready to leave at your orders, sir."

"Excellent work. I'll summarise a schedule for them once we board the aircraft."

"Affirmative, sir."

"One more thing…" Kenshi mulled thoughtfully before proceeding. "Do not underestimate this silence from the Red Dragon; it could well be the calm before a storm. Keep the Major-Lieutenant updated on the situation here, but be prepared for the worst – the ground forces have my authorisation." Kenshi nodded slowly. "Either of Mavado or Hao is bound to follow me – freeing up this region of their influence. Even if temporary, it's as good as any chance to strike against the cult."

Kenshi raised his face, going from stroking his son's hair absent-mindedly, to fully regarding the Special Forces agent by looking toward his direction.

"I'm delegating the duty to you, Sgt. Pierre," he spoke, emphatic. "Ensure that you do so. Continue to maintain your presence here with your team. Find and eliminate any and all Red Dragon criminal cells here. You should find enough lead from the dead bodies recovered to manage that for now. After that, await my further instructions."

"At your command, sir!"

The boy began to stir against Kenshi's chest. He had not slept a wink in the past thirty hours, exhausted to the bone yet finding himself too drained of energy to muster the strength to fall asleep. This, when compounded by the events of the evil night had left him in a peculiar, dark mood. He deliberately stopped himself from thinking about Suchin; though he had embraced the responsibility of his son without any qualms or reservations, he was not ready to think the woman that brought him into the world, was no more.

'How could I have been so thoughtless...'

Takeda was not merely his blood, but the last memento, the last gift Suchin had imparted with him. The tangible expression of the love they had once shared. He would protect their son with his life, with every ounce of strength he had, until his dying breath, and well beyond that.

But such control and coherency were only limited to the swordsman's thoughts. As Takeda sighed and stretched, he was slightly taken aback, unsure of how to react; realising that he had never had a child sleep in his lap, ever in his life. His heart skipped a beat, his throat constricted; the voices of his ancestors laughed in unison at his countenance, and it embarrassed Kenshi in his own eyes.

The boy was awake now, blinking and getting his bearings, resting against the swordsman's collarbone. Takeda heard Kenshi's heart thundering powerfully in his chest, bringing up the image of the somber, silent warrior as when he first saw him, in the boy's mind.

In a careful, timid move he finally raised his head and silently gazed at his father. The harsh angles of his face, the perpetual scowl – but most of all, the hidden eyes intimated Takeda. Hesitation laced in with awe and bewilderment; as the boy continued to stare brazenly for several long, painful moments.

The swordsman continued facing ahead, not acknowledging the boy. Kenshi knew the boy was uncomfortable, but damn it, so was he. It wasn't time yet for a cheery morning greeting, and the tired warrior was sure as hell not in the mood for putting up any fake shows like nothing was wrong. He could further guess the boy himself preferred to keep to himself that enjoy shows of affection.

Yet he couldn't stop a warm blush from creeping up at the back of his neck, as if following the boy's blue eyes. The continuous mocking laughter of his ancestors annoyed the swordsman, as his forehead creased further.

"Khun?" Takeda asked quietly. The word, although belied respect and deference, tore in deep at Kenshi's heart. He felt the voices in his head quiet down in the face of the sudden, intense, flaring desire of the roughened traveller. Kenshi selfishly wanted the boy to call him father, however he wished to call it; despite knowing he'd been anything but to him.

He had a lot to make up for, but it could be done. Inch by every single, painful inch, he would cross the chasm of unspoken emotions and fears that lay in between them. He'd toil, until the boy conquers the deep underlying notions of abandonment that had impacted him so profoundly, he wasn't even aware of it yet.

It will be done. Takeda Takahashi would never grow up to be a nameless Kenshi, as his father was.

Kenshi turned his head downwards, meeting his son's gaze, and gave a small smile. "Yes, my son?"

"Where's mother?"

Underneath the blindfold, Kenshi's eyes widened at the question; he was clearly not prepared to answer that, or share the truth with his son. Not when he himself had not accepted it, and most definitely not before the boy acknowledged him as a father, a guardian. It was too early.

'Indeed,' he realised with a frown. Kenshi had to make amends with Takeda, have himself cemented as a father in his son's eyes, lest the grief and anger of losing his mother leave him feeling forsaken of all the good of the world – a sentiment the swordsman was all too familiar with, especially in the aftermath of being blinded.

Or worse, the desire of revenge consume, or even destroy his soul, as it had once ravaged and torn apart his good friend, Hasashi Hanzo.

'That can never be Takeda's destiny. By the Elder gods, I would ensure it wouldn't be so.'

"Suchi- your mother will join us later, Takeda," he replied softly, his voice betraying the sorrow that plagued his heart.

"When? Where are we going, khun?"

He ignored the first question. "You're going to stay with me now, little one."

"Why?" the boy began to grow anxious. "Why didn't mama tell me we were moving? All my stuff is back in Lampang!"

"It-it'll be arranged, you don't worry about that…"

"What about my school? We have finals in a month-"

"Takeda," Kenshi said slowly, slightly authoritatively, yet his voice remained soft. "We'll have everything sorted out once we reach Japan. Have faith in me, son." Unbeknownst to him, he had already began to adopt the tone and mannerisms of a father.

"I-I do.. I didn't mean that. It's just…" the child was at a loss of words; he felt he was pushed into a corner by this stranger – his father, he mentally corrected himself. Takeda was torn in between the million questions that rose to his mind, and his extreme discomfort at the unusual, confusing circumstances he was in.

It was arguably hard to trust a stranger, especially given how his mother had trained him to not heed them the slightest. But this man was his dad. Despite his absence, he was supposed to take care of him; that's what dads do. The boy had no conception of how the relation worked practically; apart from what he heard from others in his school talking about their families, although Takeda now knew his father was much, much different from any ordinary man. He was unsure if such standards applied to him as well.

And thus, he could not help but feel belittled; that after all these years, this stranger now showed up, and claimed to have the right to completely control his life, including taking the decision to uproot him from his home entirely.

'But he isn't bossing you around like Mama does, Takeda… He's just asking to have faith in him,' the boy was surprised by the reasoning he gave with himself.

The vagueness, the obscurity of it simply disturbed the child. Even angered him. Yet Suchin had taught him to be adaptable, to be open to change.

'Be like water.'

He had disregarded the words, thinking they didn't apply to him since he was just a kid. Little Takeda, then, had clearly no idea how soon he would grow up, and turn to seeking refuge in his mother's words.

Kenshi almost smacked the middle of his forehead with his hand.

'I can't believe you told him that nonsense, Suchin. Oh, well. At least he isn't quoting Ninja Mime.' A sarcastic smile tugged at the corner of the swordsman's lips.

Try as he might, as much as he had loathed his father before, Takeda knew he would have to deal with Kenshi. Yet he could not help but be amazed and intrigued by the kind of man he had turned out to be. Tall, stoic, quiet – but a fighter, a swordsman. A blind swordsman.

'How does he do it?' Far more than angry, Takeda was infinitely curious about him – and this curiousity ran deeper than any of the distrust or confusion from before. The boy wanted to know it all, and with immediate effect. But there spanned a barrier in between them – one of reservation and hesitation, bound with the profound desire to gain his father's approval, so that he never leaves again.

Kenshi read it all, and his mood turned dark again.

'My boy, you have no idea how much you are like your mother… The same damned curiosity that now shrouds your anger toward me… If only I'd repelled it all those years ago, kept her from taking a liking to me, Suchin would be still alive … None of this would have happened…' Kenshi mused inwardly, a bittersweet pain gnawing his soul.

"Takeda, listen to me," began Kenshi, as he took the child's small fists into his own large hands. Takeda pursed his lips, and looked up.

"I know you have a lot of questions. I know all this must be very… surprising, perplexing for you."

'That's it, Kenshi. Ease the child into your web of lies…'

"I wish things could have been different, but they are not…" his voice trailed off. Takeda understood what his father meant, but offered no reply. "And we have to make do with what we have…"

The boy nodded slowly. An uncomfortable silence fell across them.

"Right, son?" Kenshi asked, his voice soft, careful.

The child looked at his father's creased forehead, his blindfolded eyes – and then realised his father obviously had not seen his weak affirmation.

"Yes, khun…"

"Would you believe me if I told you I have so many things to ask you too?" the swordsman continued, quirking up an eyebrow, a wry, lop-sided smile framing his features. He did not wait for a reply. "We'll make time for that soon, I promise. Does that sound good?"

"I guess so…" Takeda said with a frown. "J-just one question?" the boy asked innocently.

Kenshi hadn't meant to make it sound like an unbreakable rule, as he felt guilty at the child's sudden, unquestioning acquiescing to his words. "Yes?"

Takeda hesitated. He inhaled lightly, before continuing:

"This isn't the Royal Thai Army, and you said we're going to Japan… do soldiers from the Japanese army really dress like this? You look more like a ninja from a secret clan.. Or wait - an Outworld warrior!' Takeda's voice comprised a crescendo, going from vague pondering, to a hyper-charged exclamation at the prospect of Kenshi being from Outworld.

The sudden, random question made Kenshi chuckle lightly, despite the circumstances. Takeda would have been annoyed, but somehow, seeing the seasoned warrior laugh put him at ease. It softened the swordsman's angular, perpetually intense face, immediately rendering him likable to the young boy.

"I didn't mean to make fun-" Takeda whispered timidly, embarrassed.

"I know," Kenshi shook his head a bit, smile still in place. "Rest assured, I'm from Earthrealm, son," Kenshi answered, as he lightly pinched the boy's cheek out of affection. "And it's funny, because apart from that, I don't fit into any of those categories."

"If you're not in the army, then what do you do?"

"I was trained as a warrior-swordsman, Takeda. I've spent most of my life in Japan, but…" Kenshi paused.

'It's not home. I've never had one.'

The wayward traveller let the subject drop – there was no need for his son to know about the nameless Russo-Japanese couple that brought, and later, abandoned him in this world, nor of his difficult upbringing, shifting from one orphanage to another – before he finally took up the art of sword-fighting, which may as well have saved his life back then.

"As for what I do… Well, you can call me a soldier, of sorts," Kenshi surmised thoughtfully. "I'm a consultant to the Special Forces, and part of the Outworld Investigative Agency. My speciality is reconnaissance and leading tactical missions, often in Outworld and other realms, ensuring the protection of Earthrealm."

The boy stared at the man, eyes as wide as saucers, jaw slack. He blinked slowly as he digested in his father's words. He wasn't quite sure he understood everything; frankly, some of the words just flew over his head, but that did not change his impression the slightest.

"Wow!" was all that the eight-year old could manage.

'Mother said father was a busy, important man… But she never told me he was sooo cool!' Takeda wondered in awe.

Kenshi gave a forced half-smile, but rolled his eyes underneath his blindfold when he read his son's thoughts. There was nothing glorious about war. He too, had to look very hard to be able to find any good in his job.

"I wish I could tell Nopadan about this! He'd probably ask for your autogra-" Takeda paused short, the light in his eyes dimming slightly as his face fell. "I didn't even get to say goodbye to Nopa…"

'Welcome to your father's world, son…'

"A friend at school?" Kenshi asked, vaguely interested.

"Yes… We were supposed to go to the city carnival in a few days…"

"All by yourselves?"

For the life of him, Kenshi was not interested in knowing about some nameless carnival, not with the prospect of death looming in the corner of his mind. But he recalled, as clear as day, how as a child he hated the feeling of having no one to listen to you; to share the insignificant, little details of his life with anyone. If he was to build a bridge and cross the oceans spanned in between him and Takeda, he would have to take the initiative. Even if it meant enduring such mind-numbing details of a life he wanted his son to forget about, as soon as he could.

"I asked mother to come, but she has her day-shift. So Nopa said he'd ask his dad," the boy suddenly frowned. "Now that I remember, he never confirmed... His dad got a new job working for some Khun-Mav… Mavado, yeah... A lot of kids in my class do. Makes them work odd hours, though. Anyhow, I had asked Kun-Ya-"

"What's the boy's full name, son?" Kenshi's voice undertook a tone of urgency; the swordsman registered nothing after he heard the name Mavado. In a flash of a second, it all materialised in front of him – the vile plan that targeted the Takahashi family; how the Red Dragon would have pieced together bits and pieces of information, linking the single, struggling mother and her son to the rogue swordsman, planted their members and recruited new ones specifically close to the target – and then, gone after them. Kenshi clenched his jaw tightly.

This was Mavado's work. The design, the modus operandi had his name stamped all over it. Kenshi wanted to rip him apart with his bare hands.

"Srisati Nopadan. Why do you ask?" the boy raised an eyebrow quizzically at Kenshi, who had turned and nodded to Sergeant Pierre, silently. The SF-agent had noted the name down.

'You don't want to know, my son.'

"Just… curious."

Lampang, Thailand

March, 1999.

The news was unsettling. He had underestimated the woman. He should have known, Takahashi Kenshi wouldn't have a weak woman mother his progeny.

She had fought far, far better than any mother would fight to protect her child. It was quite a feat, taking down three heavily armed men with a single blade. Kenshi had taught her well. But that was not all; she had been perceptive – not doubting the authenticity of his threat the slightest, alerting the swordsman in time, allowing him to whisk the boy away before they could get their hands on him.

Her death did not matter to him, it was ordained by Daegon. But it was the child that was the true target.

Ahh yes… The details could be revised, he was a practical man after all. But the overarching design of his scheme pleased him – lips curling into a devilish sneer as he appreciated his own genius. For truly, he had bested himself this time. What better way to make the blind swine suffer? What else was better than to tear apart the crux of his sorry existence, in lieu of his betrayal? Witnessing the blood of his unsuspecting family being spilt, their flames of life extinguished, the love lost – all in the wake of following a foolish dogma; all for the supposed 'good'. Kenshi's own conscience would kill him, long before Mavado himself would have the honour to plunge a knife into the swordsman's blackened heart.

That cursed ancestral sword, the warrior lineage he boasted proudly of; and most of all, the impenetrable logic of his ruthless convictions – the swordsman had brilliantly duped them. Undoubtedly, the blind Kenshi was a worthy opponent – an intelligent adversary, a dying breed as Mavado knew too well. He had fooled them all - even Lord Daegon, who had thought Kenshi to be the perfect champion of the Red Dragon's cause.

Until Hsu Hao, the ambitious but lowly novice, had discovered his treachery. It could have been due to pure chance – Mavado could tell Hao lacked the discipline, the capacity to progress any further in the Red Dragon – but his raging hatred for the arrogant swordsman had eventually paid off.

To the cultist's surprise, and utmost delight – Takahashi had run, like a fearful, hapless animal, from the scene.

Emitting a low, guttural laugh, Mavado stood from his seat and walked over to the map displayed on the wall, his footsteps echoing in his dark chamber. He raised his eyebrows in feint concern, tilting his head to one side, as he mulled over the possibility of where the swordsman could possibly hide. Not a place came to his mind – the Red Dragon was flourishing, and even if they did not have criminal cells across all of Asia, they had enough means to buy the support of local militias and gangs, to turn them to their cause.

'Tsk tsk tsk… Poor Kenshi…'

The situation immensely amused him. The fool swordsman had no idea how much Mavado enjoyed this little chase.

The trap was laid out, and the prey was walking right into the snare – with his son in tow. It won't end well for him. Mavado's evil grin turned into a grimace, as he flicked out an onyx dagger from his belt, twirled it over his fingers before stabbing at a location on the map.

The coast of the Sea of Japan.

The rubies set as eyes atop the dragon-shaped dagger, glowed a dangerous crimson; as if in anticipation of the Takahashis' blood.

7 hours later,

Classified Location,

Japan

"We're here, Takeda," Kenshi murmured to his son. They had disembarked from the SF carrier around an hour back, trekking to the remote, hilly village where Kenshi Takahashi had maintained his temporary residence.

Takeda had found the ride up exhilarating, and as soon as they reached his hut, he found himself entranced by the view – a crystal clear blue sea, with waves lapping in careless abandon across the sandy shore. He had never seen the sea before, except in pictures; he felt a peculiar kind of joy, a senseless giddiness that is experienced only when one's wishes and dreams come true.

It was a novel feeling for Takeda, who had never entertained any illusions in his mind. He had never daydreamed, nor fantasized about a reunion with his father – or of having the perfect, poster family. Even on days when he'd be bullied senseless, he had never dared cross that line – knowing it was easier to ignore and look the other way, than to revel on a loss he never fully comprehended.

But now, it was all coming true – albeit in a bit different way than he could have imagined. He was standing on foreign soil, his hand clasped tightly in Kenshi's. The same father whom the eight-year old had denounced, refused to acknowledge. The same father, who had taken him in his embrace without question, without any reservations. Holding his hand, caressing his face and hair, as if the years that stood in their way were nothing more than wispy constructs of the mind.

From the calloused grip, to Kenshi's unusual blindfolded stare, to the serene feeling of security Takeda felt whenever his father had held him in his arms. The blinded warrior's every movement, his every action was undertaken with the boy's comfort, his ease in mind; and none of it was lost on Takeda.

One could argue the boy was perhaps deliberately ignoring the brutal realities of their confounding situation; discounting Kenshi's mysterious absence entirely, and romanticising his father to the point of delusion. Even if such a thought creeped in Takeda's mind, he shunned it immediately.

"This place is beautiful!"

He nodded in response. The boy was in a state of bliss. Kenshi felt sick to his stomach, knowing he deserved none of the credit the boy owed him; dreading the moment when he knew his son's lofty dreams would be tarnished, by his hand.

It was close to eight in the morning, on a clear Wednesday. The weather was overcast, gray – but even in the quietness of the village, Kenshi felt something was out of its element.

The waves continued to crash against the shore, the sea-gulls shrieked periodically – he heard the shuffling of elderly citizens who passed by, as he bowed in return to their greetings. The scent of the fresh, open sea surrounded him, while the salty sea-air felt cool to his face, the wind caressing his hair.

Having lost his sight, he relied on his other senses to guide him. The voices from the Sento were unusually quiet in his mind – and he sensed the uneasiness in the silence. In his mind's eye, he beckoned his spiritual vision, but found nothing out of the ordinary – no men hiding to ambush them in the vicinity, no evil spirit in sight.

But deep in his gut, he felt knots forming, as his nerves became wrought with unfounded tension.

He couldn't lay a finger on it, yet. Kenshi frowned, becoming increasingly alert. Apart from the SF, no one knew of this location – and he had absolute faith that Sonya would keep it under wraps, for now.

Something definitely was not right about this homecoming…

"You live out here alone?"

"Mmm…"

"Do you… cook and clean by yourself too?"

Kenshi was beginning to get annoyed now. 'It's not just the shape of his mouth that he gets from you, Suchin,' he fumed silently. But he simply did not have the heart to reprimand him. All Kenshi wanted at that point, was to collapse onto his bed and give himself into the embrace of a dark slumber.

He scowled, and did not reply. They were climbing the steps up a hill now, at the outskirts of the small village, which directly overlooked the sea below them. He deliberately slowed himself down, hand on the boy's shoulder, as Kenshi's hut loomed in sight.

The swordsman halted a few steps before the main door of his abode, and simply listened. The silence was becoming unbearable – not a leaf from the dense overhead trees moved, not a single bee buzzed over the dearth of flowers, not a sliver of wind blew that could carry any sound to the swordsman.

It was just him, and Takeda – as if locked in a vacuum.

'Odd...'

Takeda continued, unperturbed: "You won't have to worry now, though; mama will make her special curry and rice for both of us… D-Dad."

'The last time your mother made that 'special' curry, boy, I nearly overdosed on salt- wait... what did he just call me?!'

Kenshi whipped his neck sideways toward the boy, trying to register whether his weary mind had started playing tricks on him, or if the boy truly did call him da-

Except there was no time.

A long, dangerous beep sounded, with the sound of a ripping explosion - falling in a single, deafening wave to the swordsman's acute ears.

And before he knew it, Kenshi was sailing in the air, hand still clutching his son's. The explosion overwhelmed his senses, his ears ringing with pain, while the force from the blast threw them several feet back. He landed unceremoniously on the ground, banging his head onto a nearby rock; and amidst his son's cries of fear, succumbed to unconsciousness.

Uh ohhhh! Looks like Kenshi was becoming just a wee bit too complacent! :P

Anyhow, glad that's over :P Not quite the usual Father's Day special, but I still think it's a major feat for Kenshi at this point.

As always, I'm still new to writing such father-son dialogues, so please do let me know if it seems okay, or if it's getting OOC. If there was any part in particular that you liked, or feel can be improved, do let me know - your reviews truly mean a lot to me. Thanks again for reading this, have a great day! :)