Fate's Catalyst
Formerly Teal Isn't Just a Color
It's been a while hasn't it, everyone? I'm sorry it took me so long to come up with my complete revision and rewrite, but hopefully you will be rewarded with my latest effort. If you had read the original Teal Isn't Just a Color, you will notice drastic differences in the storyline – I redid EVERYTHING.
By the way, I got a new computer for Christmas, which means my writing process won't be slowed due to a snail-ish processor ::kicks 1995 Pentium I::. My parents showed me so they can torment me with it... So now it's sitting under the tree unwrapped where I can stare at it but not touch... How utterly wrong...
Please read, please review. I want to know what you think regardless of your views on my story. If you hated this chapter, let me know and tell me what I could do to fix it – constructive flames help. If you liked it and just want to say so, that's fine as well.
This fic is based off the final events of T4 and continues into the next tournament with original characters abound (almost 20 actually ^.^;;;). ::watches 90% of readers run away screaming in terror:: If you don't like this kind of thing leave now so I don't have to listen to you complain later.
Warnings: Dark, angst, reference to rape, language, and of course violence.
Thanks and I hope you're not disappointed.
Devine Shadow
こくえいです
Fate's Catalyst :: Prologue
うんめいしょくばい :: じょしょう
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...January 23rd 2006...
Four years prior the fourth Iron Fist Tournament...
"Sorry to interrupt your scheduled program but we have just received Breaking news. Several hours ago President of the Mishima Zaibatsu, Mishima Heihachi, was found dead in his Tokyo mansion. At approximately 8:27 AM Mishima was found with a gunshot wound to the head and a Colt revolver in his hands. Paramedics officially pronounced him dead on the scene. After inspection, the incident has been declared a suicide without probable cause and no evidence of foul play has been found. Stay tuned for further updates on this national..."
As the announcement drew to a close, a butcher's knife was thrown at the set with enough force to shatter the device to pieces. In a dying crackle the once-television forced it's last words... or word...
"traged..............y..."
It sparked frantically then promptly fell into oblivion where those cursed words belonged... Those who knew drew memories out of the darkest recesses of their minds without desire... Something they hoped to forget and tried to forget...
They all quieted and silently hoped this day would never come... Ones doubts curdled at the very thought and chance of it actually happening...
Amazing how only a thought and a memory can raise fear in the eye of the beholder... Clearly making one edgy at something that related to the matter... Even small words... Would attempt to seduce the thought out only to be held at bay once more in an attempt to quell the fear... Yet it was important enough to remain, waiting to be revived... Waiting to strike once one almost overcame...
Despite this it STILL was real... and slowly ate you alive.
Arm poised limply and randomly sliced in places from glass shrapnel, a woman stood unfazed in front of the shattered mess... She tried to run from it... nearly accomplishing what was intended...
Her gaze thickened and with brown eyes far from agape...
She was someone who shouldn't have cared this much – who should have just said 'that's a shame' and continued with her life in the rat race known as life. A house with a white picket fence where she could raise her daughter in peace and grow old only to die without a care... But alas, she was not so fortunate to lead such a minuscule life such as that...
She HAD to be involved.
She HAD to know something.
And sadly, she HAD to accept what it was... THEY had to accept...
And somehow it HAD to be this way... And WAS this way...
The woman lowered her injured appendage and grasped it at the wrist by with her uninjured hand, allowing the blood to dribble onto the eggshell carpeting and her blue apron... As if it didn't matter to her... Nothing did anymore... All because she had stopped running...
He expression remained unaffected as she let go of her false hopes and let fate take hold...
"So, What took you... Kazuya?"
...June 23rd 2013...
Seven years prior the 'murder' of Mishima Heihachi...
This day was a normal day in a small Christian cemetery on the outskirts of Kyoto.
Another body was lowered into the ground as a group of spectators wished the best for them in the afterlife, all-wishing eternal joy and happiness as well as freedom from the hardships of life - A reward for all taken and given. Hopes for that person to have a better life there and many more opportunities...
The pastor spoke reassuring words that all was well and this person indeed had a good heart... However no one in the small group needed this reassurance – they already knew.
He opened the bible and read a small passage then gave his thoughts on the dear woman that was being delivered today...
"You were a kind and loving friend and mother who's kind warmth kept many aglow. You were wonderful in every way – unselfish, kind, strong willed, and gave what you had to help others. You were indeed a miracle blessed upon those whom you touched with your kind heart. Kageri Oyu, you will be missed. With god forever you may be. We love you."
Several of her friends in life left roses on her black casket, whispering their final farewells and walking away in teary-eyed depression crying on the shoulders of their loved ones...
And one stood out...
A ten-year-old girl dressed in the color of death stood in the front row crying alone... She could only ask why... Why god took her mother - no, why her mother left her alone... And why the world hated her so much...
They thought of her as invisible to their eyes, but not to their words.
They all had someone now to love them... But she was stranded… But now left to her own devices, and burned with envy.
If you are young they all thought the same thing – you're a 'lost child who needs guidance and love in your loss'. That's a lie – the younger you are the stupider they assume you are and more naive as well.
Don't worry, we're here to help.
We'll take care of you now, so don't worry about a thing.
It'll all be fine soon.
She had no 'right' – she's a child and children can't be burdened with choices because they don't know how the world works. The adults knew what's right for her in the long run. They wouldn't let her have a single word in the matter – she was an object to be given to the highest bidder no matter their background. Money was money, and everyone knew the government craved it...
Three words.
Corruption, death, and greed.
And that was what they were made of.
Earthly possessions were now nothing they told her. Only 'life' and 'moving on' mattered now... The only thing they let her keep was a wretched black box with pink ribbon holding it shut. She had to make a scene just to keep it. What was really sad was that she didn't even know what was in the damn thing; she would have left it if her heart didn't reach out for it.
She remembered the conversation they had like it was yesterday... It was the only thing that was ever really asked of her...
She was five and Just out of the blue her mother asked her an odd question...
"You know that box I told you to never ever open? The one in the back closet?"
The she was coloring a scribbled picture of a pony and spoke at the same time, "Yes mommy... Why?"
Her mother crouched down and ruffled her chocolate hair with her hand. Her smile was very sweet, yet hollow in a way. "If something bad were ever to happen to me, not to say something will honey, the box is yours to open. Can you remember that for me?"
She continued coloring the picture hastily and nodded sloppily as if it were something that bored her, "I can."
Her mom's smile faded as she returned to her feet and took a few steps back, somewhat disappointed...
"No matter what happens never let anyone else look at it. No matter how close to you they are. It's between us, ok?"
She had a sudden interest and looked at her with sparkling hazel eyes, "You mean it's a secret!?"
Her mother was startled and began giggling, "Yes, a secret."
She rose from a tiny red chair and began dancing around her mother in circles. "I'll never ever ever tell anybody! Never ever ever! Mommy and I have a secret!"
That's why she kept it – a promise between them and she wouldn't break something like that to her mother... It was one of the few times she looked truly happy, so why not?
All she really knew was that she going to be taken away once the first shovel of dirt was scattered across her mother's coffin... Her next step to becoming something she was unable to give words...
All she could do now was wait and hope they'd ignore her like everyone else... But there was no waiting involved.
Another family friend made his way towards her slowly from over the hill, and she already knew what he was going to say... She knew that she would never lay eyes on any of them again... She stared at him, silently, coldly, dreadfully... For the first time in her life she was terrified to the point of paralysis.
... But they would take her before that.
... And everything came to her in quantities of three...
"Genkai, they're here."
End :: Prologue
おわり :: じょしょう
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First Draft: December 22nd/23rd, 2003.
First Revision: January 1st, 2004.
So, did you like/hate? Are you completely lost? Please review and let me know! That includes you, lurkers!
Glossary Thingy:
Definitions that were used in my word choice are underlined. I usually use nouns instead of traditional names for characters.
Genkai :: げんかい
1) strict guard; 2) strange or mysterious and troubling; 3) wordbook; dictionary; 4) limit; bound;
Oyu :: おゆ
1) hot water; bath
(not chosen for definition - HINT HINT)
Kageri :: かげり
1) shadow or cloud (on someone's happiness); 2) shade; gloom
General Glossary:
Words used generally in all fiction. I'm surprised most of these mean NOTHING!
Didn't feel like putting these in hiragana.
Zaibatsu:
1) financial clique
Mishima:
1) Mishima (surname)
Kazuya:
1) Kazuya (first name, m/f)
Heihachi:
1) Heihachi (first name, m)
