Shattered
Chapter Three: Confrontation
"...what did you just say?"
Jun hesitated from saying anything else, noticing the expression of utter alarm on the boy's face.
"I asked you a question. What did you just say?" He pressed on, slowly recovering from the shock of the girl's words.
"...there was a woman sitting with me. She was wearing a purple kimono and she was crying-"
"Do you think this is some joke?!" Kazuya hollered at her, his voice shaking with rage. "This isn't funny, you little brat!"
"...I'm not lying..." Jun timidly responded, confused by the boy's ferocity. Her eyes dropped from his face and onto the old floorboards as if she had suddenly found something interesting there. "I'm really not. I did see a woman here on this bed."
"Did the butlers put you up to this? Did they?!" Kazuya did not allow himself to believe the girl's words.
"Please don't shout at me," was all that Jun managed to reply. Her body was trembling with anxiety, but she forced herself to face her accuser, making direct eye contact. "I'm telling the truth, honest..."
There was silence between the two of them. The girl did not know what to say because she felt that telling the truth was sufficient enough. Kazuya took the chance to examine her face for the first time. He noticed that the ends of the denim jumper suit that she wore were frayed and her white sneakers were worn. Raven hair was pulled back with a pink ribbon except for the few bangs that hung over two round orbs of almond brown that looked back at him with a vivid clarity that he could not describe. By the look of her, she must have been around five or six years old.
"There you are!" A voice sounded from the hallway. Both of them looked towards the owner of the voice and saw a relieved Nairusu. "Miss, I was wondering where you went off to."
Immediately, the agitation returned to Kazuya. "Nairusu, I thought my father was paying you to do your job."
A slight panic arose in the butler. "What do you mean, Master Kazuya?"
Jun flinched at the name 'Kazuya'. Her eyes shot over to the boy that stood next to her and came to the realization that he was the one that Wang and Heihachi were talking about earlier in the limousine. His unruly jet- black hair and slightly built stature was enough to make him appear intimidating to anyone. She was drawn to those deep brown eyes of his that seemed to appear emotionless, yet she believed that there was something more to them. Something terribly sorrowful that could not be put into words...
"What I mean is what is this girl doing in here? This room has been off-limits for seven years now. I don't remember today being an exception-"
"It isn't his fault!" the gentle voice of Jun interrupted. Kazuya glared at her, irritated that she had the nerve to meddle in his business. "Please don't blame Nairusu-san. It was my fault that I wandered off from my room and came here."
Kazuya's glare softened a bit; he was caught off guard by this girl's willingness to defend a lowly butler. Why would she go out of her way to stand up for someone that she barely knew?
She stood up from the bed and landed on the ground, the dusty floorboards creaking as she did. She turned back to face Kazuya, her almond brown eyes holding his intently. "I didn't know that I wasn't supposed to be in here. I'm sorry."
Kazuya just looked back at her in slight astonishment. He did not think that it was possible that a little girl such as this one actually did not let an adult take the blame for her actions. Usually children allowed their mistakes to be covered up by others and rarely accepted punishment for what they did.
Nairusu cleared his throat and broke Kazuya's train of thought. "I wanted to tell you that dinner will be ready soon, Miss. I think that it is best for you to get washed up." With that the butler hastily left the two children alone, relieved that he was able to keep his job.
Another few minutes of quietness passed between Jun and Kazuya, both not knowing what to say next. Jun felt that it was her time to leave, but before she had her foot out the door Kazuya stopped her. "If I ever find you in this room again, I will make sure that you will regret it."
Jun looked back at him and found his dark ebony eyes glaring fiercely at her, but her eyes did not show horror to Kazuya's astonishment. She stared back at him peacefully as if she was deaf to his promising threat. "I won't do it again," she replied tranquilly. She stepped into the hallway and took one last look at the older boy. "I'm sorry that I upset you. I didn't mean to," she added, and walked down the hallway back to her room. She thought it would be best to take a bath before attending dinner for the first time in this mansion.
Kazuya watched her as she went, not certain about the conversation that had taken place just now. He has never known anyone that did not dread or back down to his callous manner until now. He was sure that the girl was frightened when he had shaken her from the chains that bounded her in sleep, but afterwards she was able to stand her ground. Kazuya was able to sense fear in people just by looking at them, but when his eyes met those of that girl, there was no terror in them. Only sympathy...but for whom?
"Lovely little creature, isn't she?" The familiar unearthly voice came into his ears. Out of thin air, the violet demon that he came to know as his sole companion appeared before him. Kazuya felt his yellow talons perch themselves on both of his shoulders. They were digging slightly into his firm flesh but he paid them no mind. After the hellish training that he received from his father, he was able to build a tolerance to pain.
"How should I know," Kazuya retorted, tearing his eyes away from the girl and onto the bed that he found her on when he entered the room. "Or care for that matter?"
"There is no need to hide your emotions from me, my young Kazuya. What she said hurt you deeply, did it not?" The demon persisted, knowing that he had touched upon the truth. "Why was that?"
Kazuya remained silent, his eyes fixating on the rumpled blankets strewn about on the mattress. There used to be a time that those blankets were thrown over the body of someone he dearly loved. Someone that he would never be able to see again...
"Kazuya, my son..." the feeble voice of the woman called out to him. The small boy obediently went to his mother's bedside without delay. She was wearing her favorite light purple kimono as she did everyday, despite the fact that she was terribly ill. Her vivacious face was a deathly shade of white but her eyes still shone with the love that she held for her son. Her pale lips formed a small smile as he drew nearer to her, the weak fingers of her hand running through the softness of his wild dark hair. "What is it today?"
"Tuesday, Mother."
"Is it still snowing outside?"
"Yes."
His mother laughed softly. "You've grown so much these past five years. I can still remember holding you in my arms when you were only a baby. You have always been the most precious treasure in my life."
Kazuya held onto her hand, a bit startled that his mother was talking in this way. There was something in her trembling voice that sounded so...final. "Mother, you should rest."
She only smiled. "You have a wisdom beyond your years, my son. I could never have been prouder of raising you."
"Mother, please..."
"No matter what happens Kazuya, you must remain strong," her hand smoothed the side of his face when she saw the distressed look in her son's eyes. "My beautiful child...I love you more than you could ever know. Always remember that..."
Her hand slowly dropped from his face and hung over the mattress on which she laid. Her eyes were closed and no breath escaped from her lips. She was still where she was, no longer taking the animations of life.
Kazuya shook her hand, expecting his mother's chestnut brown eyes to open. "Mother?"
No answer. She showed no signs that she was awake. He shook her again, harder this time, his voice almost raised to a shout. "Mother? Mother?!"
The Devil placed another hand upon his shoulder, bringing him back to the present. Kazuya looked up at his towering figure, staring deeply into those blood red eyes of the beast. "You still carry that wound after these seven years."
Kazuya said nothing, the inexpressible grief collecting itself into the depths of his heart. He felt the Devil's muscular arms wrapping around the boy, his head resting upon his powerful chest on which a sickly crimson scar streaked across like a jagged bolt of lightning. He was at ease in the embrace of this demon, the fact being that he was his savior as well as the only friend that he had.
"There will be a time when you no longer have to feel sadness," the Devil consoled him. "I will help you attain the happiness that you have been robbed of. You must hold onto that hatred that burns in the darkest depths of your soul."
"But how?"
"Your hatred was the only thing that drove you to climb up from the ravine where your father left you for dead. You were able to avoid the Reaper's scythe because of that loathing, and because of it I chose to help you. You will become stronger than you ever imagined, and one day you will be able to hear your father's screams of torture and feel his mortal blood upon your hands. He will be punished for all he has done, and you will receive the vengeance that you solely deserve."
Kazuya felt a rush of joy and anticipation flow through his being from the promise of sweet justified revenge. He would want nothing more than to see his father in a crumpled, beaten heap upon the ground. For once he wanted to be the torturer rather than the victim he was forced to play the role of since the day he learned to walk.
"You should get to dinner, Kazuya. You will need the strength to train with your dear father tonight," the Devil reminded him in the affectionate tone of a parent. He was gone as quickly as he came, leaving Kazuya alone in the deserted room. The youth obeyed, a bit saddened by his ally's departure. He strolled out of the room and closed the door behind him, also shutting the memories of that particular January night in the far corners of his mind. To grieve over the past was pointless, especially when it was not the past that mattered at all.
* * * *
Jun rubbed the cotton softness of the towel against her hair vigorously in an attempt to dry it. Although it was short, her hair also happened to be very thick. She was dressed in her usual denim jumper suit and white socks. Satisfied with her hair, she began disassembling the tangles with a brush when a knock to the bathroom door sounded.
"Miss," Nairusu's voice called, "are you ready to come down to dinner?"
"Yes," Jun answered, neatly putting the towel back on the rack. She tied her hair back with her pink ribbon and unlocked the door where Nairusu stood waiting.
"I'll show you to the dining room." He stated and Jun followed him out of her room. Her wet hair clung to the smooth sides of her face, but she did not mind. Again that feeling of nervousness returned to her as Nairusu led her to the staircase and through the foyer. They walked through the living room where Jun caught eye of all of the expensive furniture pieces and priceless artifacts, such as invaluable vases and antique Persian carpets. If she were to calculate the value of everything under the roof of the Mishima manor, she would come to the conclusion that not even in a hundred years would she be able to raise enough money to meet that final sum.
They arrived in the dining room, where Kazuya and Heihachi were quietly attending to their meals. The butler pulled out a chair across from where Kazuya sat as a gesture for Jun to sit down. She did and the butler left all three to their dinners. Again, that awkward lack of words was present. Jun timidly began eating what was on her plate with the fork shaking between her fingers. Judging by the length of the table, it would have been able to seat about thirty people at the most. She looked across to see the boy that confronted her earlier, but his eyes did not meet hers. Guilt suddenly brewed inside of her; she had remembered that he was obviously troubled by what she had said earlier. She never was fond of seeing people distressed, whether they were strangers or not.
"So," Heihachi said from the head of the table. Jun's head shot up and her fork clumsily clattered on her plate out of surprise. "Wang tells me that you are from Yakushima."
"Yes, Mishima-sama," she feebly replied, picking up her fork carefully this time.
"Whom do you live with?"
"I live with my father in our village."
"What about your mother?"
Jun's appetite diminished after the last question. Her anxiety was now replaced by a sudden discomfort. In doing so, she put down her fork on her plate and was quiet, swallowing the last bit of food in her mouth. Kazuya had realized her abrupt change in manners, but he pretended that he did not notice and continued to eat. "My mother passed away when I was two."
"Such a pity," Heihachi said without a touch of remorse to his voice. Kazuya contained himself from laughing in scorn: he knew that his father did not give a damn about the death of this girl's mother.
The dinner was hushed afterwards, Jun eating what her stomach would allow her to. There were no exchanged words between father and son, which Jun found unusual. Whenever she had meals with her father, they would always talk as they ate. But for some reason, Heihachi acted like his son was not in the same room. And Kazuya did not even make an effort to start a conversation.
After about fifteen minutes, Jun decided that she was not hungry. "May I be excused, Mishima-sama?"
Heihachi nodded passively and Jun slid off of her chair, taking her plate off of the table. "Um...where is the kitchen?"
The elder Mishima let out an amused chortle. "Just leave it on the table, dear. The butler will get it."
Again, Jun's cheeks blushed. "Oh, all right..." She did not want to offend the CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu, so she did as he told her to. She exited the room to explore the house, Kazuya's eyes watching her carefully as she did.
"I expect you at the dojo in fifteen minutes," Heihachi coldly declared to his son, and left for the staircase to change his clothes.
Kazuya knew what was in store for him there: his blood smearing upon the floor and hearing his own screams of pain as he attempted futilely to defend himself against his father. But he showed no signs of fear, composedly finishing his meal. For he knew that one day it will be his father's blood that will run from his fingers, and that was worth experiencing all the suffering that Heihachi Mishima could muster onto him.
* * * *
Jun filled the small clay pot with dark rich soil until it was full to its rim. With her index finger she pierced the soft soil and formed a hole about two inches deep. Her hand reached into her pocket and felt the small seed that she housed there. She took it out and dropped it gingerly into the hole and covered it back up again, lightly packing the soil on top of it. She used a small watering can that Nairusu had provided her with to drizzle the seed with the cool clear liquid. The soil accepted Jun's gift generously, absorbing the water immediately as a dry sponge would in its place.
"Miss," Nairusu beckoned her from the door that led into the kitchen. "Come, it is getting dark."
Jun consented since the dark veil of night was quickly overtaking the sky. She took the flower pot into her hands and met Nairusu at the door and went back into the house.
"Can I keep this in my room, Nairusu-san?" She asked hopefully.
"I do not see why not," Nairusu replied. "It is half past nine. I think that you should go to bed now."
He led her through the sparkling clean kitchen and into the dining room. Jun saw an empty table where Kazuya and her father were eating dinner earlier that evening. "Where are Kazuya-sama and his father?"
The butler ignored her question, the pace of his footsteps now hastening. Jun was now a bit puzzled by his action. "Nairusu-san?"
"They have gone out of the house," Nairusu blandly answered. The young girl was curious: it seemed that the butler had known something that he did not wish to share with her.
"Will they be back soon?"
"I am not certain," Nairusu quickly replied. After they traveled up the stairs and into the east wing, the butler stopped at her chamber door. "I will wake you an hour before breakfast is served tomorrow." He turned on his heel and left down the hallway with that same hurried pace as if to avoid anymore questions from the young Kazama.
Concern gathered inside of Jun for the heir of the Mishima Zaibatsu. When he had glared at her in anger due to her mistake, irritation was not the only thing apparent in them. She also saw a silent anguish in him, an agony that he did not desire to reveal. It was enough to feel empathy for him, despite his cold and apathetic manner towards her.
Jun went into her room and headed towards the windowsill. She placed her plant there so that when the first rays of the sun crept into the room, it would not be denied the light that it needed to mature. She looked out her window in boredom, the stars glowing resonantly back at her. Jun was happy with the fact that the Mishima estate was a far enough distance away from the blinding lights of Tokyo that she was able to see the night sky without being blinded by the glare of the neon luminosities of the metropolis. Staring into the depths of the heavens was something that she had always enjoyed as a child. She would often sit outside of her house for hours gazing at the radiant moon and recognizing star constellations until her father called for her to come inside.
She stared deeply at the moon, the paleness of the white orb stirring something within her memories. It was so colorless, so pallid, just as that woman's face was.
She remembered seeing her sitting upon the bed, motioning Jun to come join her. Although she was hesitant, the girl gave in when she saw that the woman's eyes were glistening with tears. Out of the kindness of her heart, Jun approached her and sat at her side, allowing the woman's hands to examine her round face. Even if she felt a bit awkward, there was a motherly warmth radiating from the woman. A warmth that convinced Jun that she would not do any harm towards her. She recalled falling asleep with the woman's brown eyes watching her lovingly as a parent would after tucking his child into bed. Although there were no words spoken between Jun and the mysterious woman, she knew that there was an indescribable misery in her. She felt that there was also a desperation in her eyes that Jun could only see, a plea for help that did not need words. But what was it? Her eyes haunted her, like those of Kazuya's...
Restless from her thoughts, Jun left her room and into the stillness of the vacant hallway. She walked further into the darkness, the shadows teeming about, avoiding the beams of moonlight that shone through the windowpanes. She halted at the door that had once welcomed her after her arrival to the mansion, but now it was shut firmly in place.
She placed her right hand onto the wooden surface, undaunted by the darkness that surrounded her. "I'm sorry that I can't visit you again, but I don't want to upset Kazuya-sama." She paused, but continued as if she was talking to a person right in front of her. "...were you crying because you needed someone to help you? Is that why you wanted me to sit with you?"
There was no answer from the other side of the door. Nor did Jun need one. "I...don't know what you need or what I can do, but...I'll help you, if that's what you really want. Well, I have to go now...good night."
Jun returned to her room in silence and realized that she had yet to fully unpack all of her belongings. She placed her suitcase next to her dresser, promising herself that she would stow away its contents tomorrow. She opened it and located her plain, white nightgown. She went into her bathroom to quickly change and brush her teeth. When she came back, she untied her ribbon and left it on the nightstand next to her bed. Jun earnestly climbed onto her bed and buried herself in the soft blankets, shutting off the lamp that also stood on the nightstand as she did.
* * * *
Kazuya staggered up the last of the stairs with what little strength that he had left. He felt the warm blood trickling from his fresh wounds and his body ached with fatigue. Again he was able to crawl away from the clutches of death, his will much too strong to ever submit to the pain brought upon him by his father's hand. He will not give up, not when he was promised so much...
He tripped on the ragged end of his gi and fell to the ground. He struggled onto his knees, supporting himself with his wobbly, aching arms. Kazuya heard a door creaking open, and saw the small form of a child approach him. "Kazuya-sama?" He recognized the gentle voice now. "What...what has happened to you?"
"It is nothing that concerns you," he coldly replied, getting up to his feet. The moonlight illuminated the blood that tarnished his gi, making Jun all the more worried. "And I do not remember allowing you to address me by my first name."
"You're bleeding," she said outloud, pointing out the obvious in her shock. "Come on, your wounds need to be cleaned-" She tried to help him by taking his hand, but he shook her off.
"I said that it does not concern you!" He shouted at her, the annoyance in his boyish voice reverberating through the hallway. Jun said nothing, but remained where she stood, not wanting to leave him injured.
"Please let me help you," she pleaded. "You're badly hurt and need to be treated."
"I do not want your help," Kazuya said cruelly, and in doing so he shoved her away from him with such force that she collided with the with the wall to the left of her. She felt its solidness crashing against her fragile body, but she was oblivious to the pain that it had caused. Instead, she watched as Kazuya limped a few doors past her room and entered his own chamber, closing the door after him. She heard a clicking noise that indicated that he had locked it, making it now impossible to let her attend to his injuries.
Jun was numb to the ache that had formed on her side. She advanced towards the room that Kazuya had went into, knowing that it was useless to knock. She was still for a moment, and sunk onto the floor. She sat there deeply worried, ignoring the bruise that throbbed on her arm from when he had pushed her aside into the wall with one swift movement of his hand. The girl did not speak or move, only stared at the door, hoping that he would come out and allow her to help him with his wounds.
Chapter Three: Confrontation
"...what did you just say?"
Jun hesitated from saying anything else, noticing the expression of utter alarm on the boy's face.
"I asked you a question. What did you just say?" He pressed on, slowly recovering from the shock of the girl's words.
"...there was a woman sitting with me. She was wearing a purple kimono and she was crying-"
"Do you think this is some joke?!" Kazuya hollered at her, his voice shaking with rage. "This isn't funny, you little brat!"
"...I'm not lying..." Jun timidly responded, confused by the boy's ferocity. Her eyes dropped from his face and onto the old floorboards as if she had suddenly found something interesting there. "I'm really not. I did see a woman here on this bed."
"Did the butlers put you up to this? Did they?!" Kazuya did not allow himself to believe the girl's words.
"Please don't shout at me," was all that Jun managed to reply. Her body was trembling with anxiety, but she forced herself to face her accuser, making direct eye contact. "I'm telling the truth, honest..."
There was silence between the two of them. The girl did not know what to say because she felt that telling the truth was sufficient enough. Kazuya took the chance to examine her face for the first time. He noticed that the ends of the denim jumper suit that she wore were frayed and her white sneakers were worn. Raven hair was pulled back with a pink ribbon except for the few bangs that hung over two round orbs of almond brown that looked back at him with a vivid clarity that he could not describe. By the look of her, she must have been around five or six years old.
"There you are!" A voice sounded from the hallway. Both of them looked towards the owner of the voice and saw a relieved Nairusu. "Miss, I was wondering where you went off to."
Immediately, the agitation returned to Kazuya. "Nairusu, I thought my father was paying you to do your job."
A slight panic arose in the butler. "What do you mean, Master Kazuya?"
Jun flinched at the name 'Kazuya'. Her eyes shot over to the boy that stood next to her and came to the realization that he was the one that Wang and Heihachi were talking about earlier in the limousine. His unruly jet- black hair and slightly built stature was enough to make him appear intimidating to anyone. She was drawn to those deep brown eyes of his that seemed to appear emotionless, yet she believed that there was something more to them. Something terribly sorrowful that could not be put into words...
"What I mean is what is this girl doing in here? This room has been off-limits for seven years now. I don't remember today being an exception-"
"It isn't his fault!" the gentle voice of Jun interrupted. Kazuya glared at her, irritated that she had the nerve to meddle in his business. "Please don't blame Nairusu-san. It was my fault that I wandered off from my room and came here."
Kazuya's glare softened a bit; he was caught off guard by this girl's willingness to defend a lowly butler. Why would she go out of her way to stand up for someone that she barely knew?
She stood up from the bed and landed on the ground, the dusty floorboards creaking as she did. She turned back to face Kazuya, her almond brown eyes holding his intently. "I didn't know that I wasn't supposed to be in here. I'm sorry."
Kazuya just looked back at her in slight astonishment. He did not think that it was possible that a little girl such as this one actually did not let an adult take the blame for her actions. Usually children allowed their mistakes to be covered up by others and rarely accepted punishment for what they did.
Nairusu cleared his throat and broke Kazuya's train of thought. "I wanted to tell you that dinner will be ready soon, Miss. I think that it is best for you to get washed up." With that the butler hastily left the two children alone, relieved that he was able to keep his job.
Another few minutes of quietness passed between Jun and Kazuya, both not knowing what to say next. Jun felt that it was her time to leave, but before she had her foot out the door Kazuya stopped her. "If I ever find you in this room again, I will make sure that you will regret it."
Jun looked back at him and found his dark ebony eyes glaring fiercely at her, but her eyes did not show horror to Kazuya's astonishment. She stared back at him peacefully as if she was deaf to his promising threat. "I won't do it again," she replied tranquilly. She stepped into the hallway and took one last look at the older boy. "I'm sorry that I upset you. I didn't mean to," she added, and walked down the hallway back to her room. She thought it would be best to take a bath before attending dinner for the first time in this mansion.
Kazuya watched her as she went, not certain about the conversation that had taken place just now. He has never known anyone that did not dread or back down to his callous manner until now. He was sure that the girl was frightened when he had shaken her from the chains that bounded her in sleep, but afterwards she was able to stand her ground. Kazuya was able to sense fear in people just by looking at them, but when his eyes met those of that girl, there was no terror in them. Only sympathy...but for whom?
"Lovely little creature, isn't she?" The familiar unearthly voice came into his ears. Out of thin air, the violet demon that he came to know as his sole companion appeared before him. Kazuya felt his yellow talons perch themselves on both of his shoulders. They were digging slightly into his firm flesh but he paid them no mind. After the hellish training that he received from his father, he was able to build a tolerance to pain.
"How should I know," Kazuya retorted, tearing his eyes away from the girl and onto the bed that he found her on when he entered the room. "Or care for that matter?"
"There is no need to hide your emotions from me, my young Kazuya. What she said hurt you deeply, did it not?" The demon persisted, knowing that he had touched upon the truth. "Why was that?"
Kazuya remained silent, his eyes fixating on the rumpled blankets strewn about on the mattress. There used to be a time that those blankets were thrown over the body of someone he dearly loved. Someone that he would never be able to see again...
"Kazuya, my son..." the feeble voice of the woman called out to him. The small boy obediently went to his mother's bedside without delay. She was wearing her favorite light purple kimono as she did everyday, despite the fact that she was terribly ill. Her vivacious face was a deathly shade of white but her eyes still shone with the love that she held for her son. Her pale lips formed a small smile as he drew nearer to her, the weak fingers of her hand running through the softness of his wild dark hair. "What is it today?"
"Tuesday, Mother."
"Is it still snowing outside?"
"Yes."
His mother laughed softly. "You've grown so much these past five years. I can still remember holding you in my arms when you were only a baby. You have always been the most precious treasure in my life."
Kazuya held onto her hand, a bit startled that his mother was talking in this way. There was something in her trembling voice that sounded so...final. "Mother, you should rest."
She only smiled. "You have a wisdom beyond your years, my son. I could never have been prouder of raising you."
"Mother, please..."
"No matter what happens Kazuya, you must remain strong," her hand smoothed the side of his face when she saw the distressed look in her son's eyes. "My beautiful child...I love you more than you could ever know. Always remember that..."
Her hand slowly dropped from his face and hung over the mattress on which she laid. Her eyes were closed and no breath escaped from her lips. She was still where she was, no longer taking the animations of life.
Kazuya shook her hand, expecting his mother's chestnut brown eyes to open. "Mother?"
No answer. She showed no signs that she was awake. He shook her again, harder this time, his voice almost raised to a shout. "Mother? Mother?!"
The Devil placed another hand upon his shoulder, bringing him back to the present. Kazuya looked up at his towering figure, staring deeply into those blood red eyes of the beast. "You still carry that wound after these seven years."
Kazuya said nothing, the inexpressible grief collecting itself into the depths of his heart. He felt the Devil's muscular arms wrapping around the boy, his head resting upon his powerful chest on which a sickly crimson scar streaked across like a jagged bolt of lightning. He was at ease in the embrace of this demon, the fact being that he was his savior as well as the only friend that he had.
"There will be a time when you no longer have to feel sadness," the Devil consoled him. "I will help you attain the happiness that you have been robbed of. You must hold onto that hatred that burns in the darkest depths of your soul."
"But how?"
"Your hatred was the only thing that drove you to climb up from the ravine where your father left you for dead. You were able to avoid the Reaper's scythe because of that loathing, and because of it I chose to help you. You will become stronger than you ever imagined, and one day you will be able to hear your father's screams of torture and feel his mortal blood upon your hands. He will be punished for all he has done, and you will receive the vengeance that you solely deserve."
Kazuya felt a rush of joy and anticipation flow through his being from the promise of sweet justified revenge. He would want nothing more than to see his father in a crumpled, beaten heap upon the ground. For once he wanted to be the torturer rather than the victim he was forced to play the role of since the day he learned to walk.
"You should get to dinner, Kazuya. You will need the strength to train with your dear father tonight," the Devil reminded him in the affectionate tone of a parent. He was gone as quickly as he came, leaving Kazuya alone in the deserted room. The youth obeyed, a bit saddened by his ally's departure. He strolled out of the room and closed the door behind him, also shutting the memories of that particular January night in the far corners of his mind. To grieve over the past was pointless, especially when it was not the past that mattered at all.
* * * *
Jun rubbed the cotton softness of the towel against her hair vigorously in an attempt to dry it. Although it was short, her hair also happened to be very thick. She was dressed in her usual denim jumper suit and white socks. Satisfied with her hair, she began disassembling the tangles with a brush when a knock to the bathroom door sounded.
"Miss," Nairusu's voice called, "are you ready to come down to dinner?"
"Yes," Jun answered, neatly putting the towel back on the rack. She tied her hair back with her pink ribbon and unlocked the door where Nairusu stood waiting.
"I'll show you to the dining room." He stated and Jun followed him out of her room. Her wet hair clung to the smooth sides of her face, but she did not mind. Again that feeling of nervousness returned to her as Nairusu led her to the staircase and through the foyer. They walked through the living room where Jun caught eye of all of the expensive furniture pieces and priceless artifacts, such as invaluable vases and antique Persian carpets. If she were to calculate the value of everything under the roof of the Mishima manor, she would come to the conclusion that not even in a hundred years would she be able to raise enough money to meet that final sum.
They arrived in the dining room, where Kazuya and Heihachi were quietly attending to their meals. The butler pulled out a chair across from where Kazuya sat as a gesture for Jun to sit down. She did and the butler left all three to their dinners. Again, that awkward lack of words was present. Jun timidly began eating what was on her plate with the fork shaking between her fingers. Judging by the length of the table, it would have been able to seat about thirty people at the most. She looked across to see the boy that confronted her earlier, but his eyes did not meet hers. Guilt suddenly brewed inside of her; she had remembered that he was obviously troubled by what she had said earlier. She never was fond of seeing people distressed, whether they were strangers or not.
"So," Heihachi said from the head of the table. Jun's head shot up and her fork clumsily clattered on her plate out of surprise. "Wang tells me that you are from Yakushima."
"Yes, Mishima-sama," she feebly replied, picking up her fork carefully this time.
"Whom do you live with?"
"I live with my father in our village."
"What about your mother?"
Jun's appetite diminished after the last question. Her anxiety was now replaced by a sudden discomfort. In doing so, she put down her fork on her plate and was quiet, swallowing the last bit of food in her mouth. Kazuya had realized her abrupt change in manners, but he pretended that he did not notice and continued to eat. "My mother passed away when I was two."
"Such a pity," Heihachi said without a touch of remorse to his voice. Kazuya contained himself from laughing in scorn: he knew that his father did not give a damn about the death of this girl's mother.
The dinner was hushed afterwards, Jun eating what her stomach would allow her to. There were no exchanged words between father and son, which Jun found unusual. Whenever she had meals with her father, they would always talk as they ate. But for some reason, Heihachi acted like his son was not in the same room. And Kazuya did not even make an effort to start a conversation.
After about fifteen minutes, Jun decided that she was not hungry. "May I be excused, Mishima-sama?"
Heihachi nodded passively and Jun slid off of her chair, taking her plate off of the table. "Um...where is the kitchen?"
The elder Mishima let out an amused chortle. "Just leave it on the table, dear. The butler will get it."
Again, Jun's cheeks blushed. "Oh, all right..." She did not want to offend the CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu, so she did as he told her to. She exited the room to explore the house, Kazuya's eyes watching her carefully as she did.
"I expect you at the dojo in fifteen minutes," Heihachi coldly declared to his son, and left for the staircase to change his clothes.
Kazuya knew what was in store for him there: his blood smearing upon the floor and hearing his own screams of pain as he attempted futilely to defend himself against his father. But he showed no signs of fear, composedly finishing his meal. For he knew that one day it will be his father's blood that will run from his fingers, and that was worth experiencing all the suffering that Heihachi Mishima could muster onto him.
* * * *
Jun filled the small clay pot with dark rich soil until it was full to its rim. With her index finger she pierced the soft soil and formed a hole about two inches deep. Her hand reached into her pocket and felt the small seed that she housed there. She took it out and dropped it gingerly into the hole and covered it back up again, lightly packing the soil on top of it. She used a small watering can that Nairusu had provided her with to drizzle the seed with the cool clear liquid. The soil accepted Jun's gift generously, absorbing the water immediately as a dry sponge would in its place.
"Miss," Nairusu beckoned her from the door that led into the kitchen. "Come, it is getting dark."
Jun consented since the dark veil of night was quickly overtaking the sky. She took the flower pot into her hands and met Nairusu at the door and went back into the house.
"Can I keep this in my room, Nairusu-san?" She asked hopefully.
"I do not see why not," Nairusu replied. "It is half past nine. I think that you should go to bed now."
He led her through the sparkling clean kitchen and into the dining room. Jun saw an empty table where Kazuya and her father were eating dinner earlier that evening. "Where are Kazuya-sama and his father?"
The butler ignored her question, the pace of his footsteps now hastening. Jun was now a bit puzzled by his action. "Nairusu-san?"
"They have gone out of the house," Nairusu blandly answered. The young girl was curious: it seemed that the butler had known something that he did not wish to share with her.
"Will they be back soon?"
"I am not certain," Nairusu quickly replied. After they traveled up the stairs and into the east wing, the butler stopped at her chamber door. "I will wake you an hour before breakfast is served tomorrow." He turned on his heel and left down the hallway with that same hurried pace as if to avoid anymore questions from the young Kazama.
Concern gathered inside of Jun for the heir of the Mishima Zaibatsu. When he had glared at her in anger due to her mistake, irritation was not the only thing apparent in them. She also saw a silent anguish in him, an agony that he did not desire to reveal. It was enough to feel empathy for him, despite his cold and apathetic manner towards her.
Jun went into her room and headed towards the windowsill. She placed her plant there so that when the first rays of the sun crept into the room, it would not be denied the light that it needed to mature. She looked out her window in boredom, the stars glowing resonantly back at her. Jun was happy with the fact that the Mishima estate was a far enough distance away from the blinding lights of Tokyo that she was able to see the night sky without being blinded by the glare of the neon luminosities of the metropolis. Staring into the depths of the heavens was something that she had always enjoyed as a child. She would often sit outside of her house for hours gazing at the radiant moon and recognizing star constellations until her father called for her to come inside.
She stared deeply at the moon, the paleness of the white orb stirring something within her memories. It was so colorless, so pallid, just as that woman's face was.
She remembered seeing her sitting upon the bed, motioning Jun to come join her. Although she was hesitant, the girl gave in when she saw that the woman's eyes were glistening with tears. Out of the kindness of her heart, Jun approached her and sat at her side, allowing the woman's hands to examine her round face. Even if she felt a bit awkward, there was a motherly warmth radiating from the woman. A warmth that convinced Jun that she would not do any harm towards her. She recalled falling asleep with the woman's brown eyes watching her lovingly as a parent would after tucking his child into bed. Although there were no words spoken between Jun and the mysterious woman, she knew that there was an indescribable misery in her. She felt that there was also a desperation in her eyes that Jun could only see, a plea for help that did not need words. But what was it? Her eyes haunted her, like those of Kazuya's...
Restless from her thoughts, Jun left her room and into the stillness of the vacant hallway. She walked further into the darkness, the shadows teeming about, avoiding the beams of moonlight that shone through the windowpanes. She halted at the door that had once welcomed her after her arrival to the mansion, but now it was shut firmly in place.
She placed her right hand onto the wooden surface, undaunted by the darkness that surrounded her. "I'm sorry that I can't visit you again, but I don't want to upset Kazuya-sama." She paused, but continued as if she was talking to a person right in front of her. "...were you crying because you needed someone to help you? Is that why you wanted me to sit with you?"
There was no answer from the other side of the door. Nor did Jun need one. "I...don't know what you need or what I can do, but...I'll help you, if that's what you really want. Well, I have to go now...good night."
Jun returned to her room in silence and realized that she had yet to fully unpack all of her belongings. She placed her suitcase next to her dresser, promising herself that she would stow away its contents tomorrow. She opened it and located her plain, white nightgown. She went into her bathroom to quickly change and brush her teeth. When she came back, she untied her ribbon and left it on the nightstand next to her bed. Jun earnestly climbed onto her bed and buried herself in the soft blankets, shutting off the lamp that also stood on the nightstand as she did.
* * * *
Kazuya staggered up the last of the stairs with what little strength that he had left. He felt the warm blood trickling from his fresh wounds and his body ached with fatigue. Again he was able to crawl away from the clutches of death, his will much too strong to ever submit to the pain brought upon him by his father's hand. He will not give up, not when he was promised so much...
He tripped on the ragged end of his gi and fell to the ground. He struggled onto his knees, supporting himself with his wobbly, aching arms. Kazuya heard a door creaking open, and saw the small form of a child approach him. "Kazuya-sama?" He recognized the gentle voice now. "What...what has happened to you?"
"It is nothing that concerns you," he coldly replied, getting up to his feet. The moonlight illuminated the blood that tarnished his gi, making Jun all the more worried. "And I do not remember allowing you to address me by my first name."
"You're bleeding," she said outloud, pointing out the obvious in her shock. "Come on, your wounds need to be cleaned-" She tried to help him by taking his hand, but he shook her off.
"I said that it does not concern you!" He shouted at her, the annoyance in his boyish voice reverberating through the hallway. Jun said nothing, but remained where she stood, not wanting to leave him injured.
"Please let me help you," she pleaded. "You're badly hurt and need to be treated."
"I do not want your help," Kazuya said cruelly, and in doing so he shoved her away from him with such force that she collided with the with the wall to the left of her. She felt its solidness crashing against her fragile body, but she was oblivious to the pain that it had caused. Instead, she watched as Kazuya limped a few doors past her room and entered his own chamber, closing the door after him. She heard a clicking noise that indicated that he had locked it, making it now impossible to let her attend to his injuries.
Jun was numb to the ache that had formed on her side. She advanced towards the room that Kazuya had went into, knowing that it was useless to knock. She was still for a moment, and sunk onto the floor. She sat there deeply worried, ignoring the bruise that throbbed on her arm from when he had pushed her aside into the wall with one swift movement of his hand. The girl did not speak or move, only stared at the door, hoping that he would come out and allow her to help him with his wounds.