Author's Notes: A Lee Chaolan story that I read ages ago inspired me to write this *starry eyed*
Disclaimer: I really lurve Lee Chaolan but I don't own him. Neither do I own Heihachi and Kazuya Mishima, Namco do =)
Lee Chaolan had never been loved. Accepted, maybe. But loved? No.
The word "love" was lost on the man who took him in to raise him as a `son'. `I was never regarded as a proper son,' Lee thought bitterly; `I was only adopted so Heihachi could show Kazuya everything he expected him to be.
A `model' son . . .'
With these words swimming around his head, Lee scoffed in nothing short of pure resentment. `A `model' son, yeah right...'
Lee climbed out of his gleaming silver Honda car and leant against cold, metal railings that overlooked the never-ending ocean.
His blank eyes showed no trace of expression, except that locked sorrow that would be forever concealed. Sadly, he gazed up at the night sky - a million or so stars twinkled back at him. A soft breeze blew past, playing with the lightest tendrils of beautiful gleaming hair, which matched the colour of his silver car.
Lee sighed. He still remembered those awful nights at the Mishima
mansion . . . `All I ever wanted was a real family', with this lingering thought, his eyes shut as the flood barriers of his memory released painful reminiscences that had long since begged to be forgotten . . .
The tormented sobs of a young boy rang in Lee's ears. Kazuya. Lee was used to lying in bed at 3am every morning whilst he listened to his stepbrother carrying his broken body back to his room after countless highly vigorous training sessions with Heihachi.
One particular night, however, when Lee could no longer stand hearing Kazuya's unbridled screams of mercy, he was unfortunate enough to venture put to the dojo in a quiet, cut-off area of the beautiful Mishima gardens.
He hid, as he watched Kazuya being hurled against a wall.
Lee winced, sensing his brother's hurt as he watched the pained grimace flicker across Kazuya's bruised and bloody face, tears of exhaustion were blatantly streaming down his cheeks.
Lee stifled a shocked gasp as he witnessed Heihachi stride across to where Kazuya lay on the floor. With a swift kick to Kazuya's ribs he shouted, "Get up! You will always be weak, Kazuya! Nothing more! Just worthless and weak!"
Lee turned away when he heard Kazuya sob, "No please, don't . . .!"
He heard Heihachi's angry shout and one last yell of anguish. "Get out of my sight," Heihachi spat. Lee kept close to the shadows when Kazuya stumbled past him. It was obvious that he was in immense pain with every step he took.
Lee had to stand back for a moment, completely horrified at what he had just perceived. He tried to shake the awful image of Kazuya's beaten body from his head and for the first time was filled with a powerful anger for his stepfather.
However, Lee was much too respectful of Heihachi to show him any real fury. "Father," he mumbled quietly, as he stealthily crept into the dojo.
Heihachi, surprised, turned around with a disapproving look on his face. "You shouldn't be here . . ."
"I saw you," Lee continued quietly, "I saw what you did to Kazuya . . . Why don't you just lay off beating him?"
A look of indescribable rage spread across Heihachi's face. Consumed with rage, he towered over his adopted son, "Insolent young fool! I take you in as my son. Feed you! Dress you! I KEEP you here - I should not have wasted my time. You DARE to impose the audacity of questioning the way things are performed in my household? Then maybe you are better off living elsewhere, where you are not so bound by my rules," he thundered.
Violent flames of raging fire were illuminated in Heihachi's narrowed eyes. That fire struck an imaginable fear deep in Lee's heart - a fear so searing and overwhelming, that it sent Lee on his knees.
He threw himself at Heihachi's feet. "I was wrong! My questioning of your actions was unspeakably wrong. I beg you . . . Forgive me, Father," Lee wept, a terrified mass of trembling boy.
Heihachi snorted in arrogance. "Your insolence is forgiven . . . For now. But let us get one thing clear - you are old enough to address me by my name. I am not your father so there is no need to refer to me in that manner anymore. You have disappointed me tonight, Chaolan."
Lee held his head in his hands, letting his tears flow freely through his fingers. "All I ever wanted was a real family," he whispered through his tears.
Upon hearing this, Heihachi stopped, his expression softening. "You are part of THIS family, my . . . son," then he left.
Lee knew that was Heihachi's form of an apology. Heihachi Mishima had too much pride to give an explicit apology to anyone, no matter who it was.
`I was just thirteen,' Lee held back the tears forming in his eyes, `A kid! I was only a kid when he told me not to call him Father anymore.'
Kazuya had never found out about his brother's heroic actions on his behalf to Heihachi that night, and that's the way Lee kept it. `What would it have changed anyway? It wouldn't have changed the fact that the bastard made me his own personal secretary for his ruling of the Zaibatsu,' Lee thought, his face a picture of mute fury and hurt.
He looked back out across the ever-stretching ocean, melancholy clouding his perfect features, whilst that locked sorrow in his eyes was finally unchained. `Why couldn't I have been part of a family that loved me?'
Disclaimer: I really lurve Lee Chaolan but I don't own him. Neither do I own Heihachi and Kazuya Mishima, Namco do =)
Lee Chaolan had never been loved. Accepted, maybe. But loved? No.
The word "love" was lost on the man who took him in to raise him as a `son'. `I was never regarded as a proper son,' Lee thought bitterly; `I was only adopted so Heihachi could show Kazuya everything he expected him to be.
A `model' son . . .'
With these words swimming around his head, Lee scoffed in nothing short of pure resentment. `A `model' son, yeah right...'
Lee climbed out of his gleaming silver Honda car and leant against cold, metal railings that overlooked the never-ending ocean.
His blank eyes showed no trace of expression, except that locked sorrow that would be forever concealed. Sadly, he gazed up at the night sky - a million or so stars twinkled back at him. A soft breeze blew past, playing with the lightest tendrils of beautiful gleaming hair, which matched the colour of his silver car.
Lee sighed. He still remembered those awful nights at the Mishima
mansion . . . `All I ever wanted was a real family', with this lingering thought, his eyes shut as the flood barriers of his memory released painful reminiscences that had long since begged to be forgotten . . .
The tormented sobs of a young boy rang in Lee's ears. Kazuya. Lee was used to lying in bed at 3am every morning whilst he listened to his stepbrother carrying his broken body back to his room after countless highly vigorous training sessions with Heihachi.
One particular night, however, when Lee could no longer stand hearing Kazuya's unbridled screams of mercy, he was unfortunate enough to venture put to the dojo in a quiet, cut-off area of the beautiful Mishima gardens.
He hid, as he watched Kazuya being hurled against a wall.
Lee winced, sensing his brother's hurt as he watched the pained grimace flicker across Kazuya's bruised and bloody face, tears of exhaustion were blatantly streaming down his cheeks.
Lee stifled a shocked gasp as he witnessed Heihachi stride across to where Kazuya lay on the floor. With a swift kick to Kazuya's ribs he shouted, "Get up! You will always be weak, Kazuya! Nothing more! Just worthless and weak!"
Lee turned away when he heard Kazuya sob, "No please, don't . . .!"
He heard Heihachi's angry shout and one last yell of anguish. "Get out of my sight," Heihachi spat. Lee kept close to the shadows when Kazuya stumbled past him. It was obvious that he was in immense pain with every step he took.
Lee had to stand back for a moment, completely horrified at what he had just perceived. He tried to shake the awful image of Kazuya's beaten body from his head and for the first time was filled with a powerful anger for his stepfather.
However, Lee was much too respectful of Heihachi to show him any real fury. "Father," he mumbled quietly, as he stealthily crept into the dojo.
Heihachi, surprised, turned around with a disapproving look on his face. "You shouldn't be here . . ."
"I saw you," Lee continued quietly, "I saw what you did to Kazuya . . . Why don't you just lay off beating him?"
A look of indescribable rage spread across Heihachi's face. Consumed with rage, he towered over his adopted son, "Insolent young fool! I take you in as my son. Feed you! Dress you! I KEEP you here - I should not have wasted my time. You DARE to impose the audacity of questioning the way things are performed in my household? Then maybe you are better off living elsewhere, where you are not so bound by my rules," he thundered.
Violent flames of raging fire were illuminated in Heihachi's narrowed eyes. That fire struck an imaginable fear deep in Lee's heart - a fear so searing and overwhelming, that it sent Lee on his knees.
He threw himself at Heihachi's feet. "I was wrong! My questioning of your actions was unspeakably wrong. I beg you . . . Forgive me, Father," Lee wept, a terrified mass of trembling boy.
Heihachi snorted in arrogance. "Your insolence is forgiven . . . For now. But let us get one thing clear - you are old enough to address me by my name. I am not your father so there is no need to refer to me in that manner anymore. You have disappointed me tonight, Chaolan."
Lee held his head in his hands, letting his tears flow freely through his fingers. "All I ever wanted was a real family," he whispered through his tears.
Upon hearing this, Heihachi stopped, his expression softening. "You are part of THIS family, my . . . son," then he left.
Lee knew that was Heihachi's form of an apology. Heihachi Mishima had too much pride to give an explicit apology to anyone, no matter who it was.
`I was just thirteen,' Lee held back the tears forming in his eyes, `A kid! I was only a kid when he told me not to call him Father anymore.'
Kazuya had never found out about his brother's heroic actions on his behalf to Heihachi that night, and that's the way Lee kept it. `What would it have changed anyway? It wouldn't have changed the fact that the bastard made me his own personal secretary for his ruling of the Zaibatsu,' Lee thought, his face a picture of mute fury and hurt.
He looked back out across the ever-stretching ocean, melancholy clouding his perfect features, whilst that locked sorrow in his eyes was finally unchained. `Why couldn't I have been part of a family that loved me?'