SURRENDER by Tina

1.0 - Lives Unforgotten

Four years later…

"Where is he?" Kazuya Mishima asked himself as he sat in front of his desk in the living room of his apartment, staring blankly into the laptop's computer screen. The room around him was dark, save for the bit of light from the computer. Papers, books and maps were strewn everywhere, over the floor and the couch and the coffee table, notebooks with scribbled on pages of names, places and numbers, all things that meant nothing to him.

It was an old news paper article he'd found on the Internet that he was looking at, not one bit different from the one he had lying on the desk beside his laptop. The article was dated back to almost two years ago. It'd made the front page in Tokyo, Japan, a tragic car accident off a dangerous cliff on the highway, just ten miles south of the city limits of Brisbane, Australia. There was a picture of the car next to the article, which looked more like a heap of molten iron and metal than anything else.

The owner and suspected driver of the vehicle on that fated night had been identified. Though there was no physical evidence, as it'd been completely wrecked from the inside out, which was quite clear from the black-and-white photograph shown, leaving practically nothing but the melted, twisted skeleton of the car, it was held in strong beliefs that the victim had died.


There'd been a storm that night, and a quite fierce one, too. Wind, thunder, lighting, rain—the whole works—making a nasty mess for anyone who decided to go out driving that night. The roads were slick with water, the site of the incident taking place on a curb built into a steep cliff beside the sea, a popular scene for car accidents. The driver had lost control of the car, sped through the guardrail and plummeted to the bottom below, which had been a good hundred feet or more. A direct head-on collision with the rocky shore, the engine had exploded and fire engulfed the car, but was eventually put out by the tide, and by the time the city police and fire department arrived, they discovered that the body was gone.

City police officers guessed that the driver had been swept out to sea on the incoming tide and drown, though they had a good idea that he'd most likely died even before then. No one could have survived that fall, they'd said. Not anyone human, anyway. But Kazuya knew better. He knew that the victim had been anything but human. That victim was his son, Jin Kazama, his other half to the Devil gene. Speaking from personal experience, Kazuya had survived many incidents that should have cost him his life, and if he'd learned anything, he knew his son would be able to do the same.

That is, if the crash was real. It seemed far-fetched to think otherwise, but Kazuya had discovered from the last tournament that his son was certainly not a fool. He was pretty sure Jin (and Heihachi, for that matter) didn't know he was alive, but he was still aware of his grandfather, who was just as threatening to his existence as he was, if not more. He knew Heihachi Mishima would stop at nothing to achieve his task, much like himself. And this was a clever move on Jin's part, Kazuya admitted, to throw him off his track. He'd made the situation plausible and left few holes for questioning.

Though Heihachi may be fooled, Kazuya was beyond logic thinking. There was still a chance. He refused to believe Jin was dead unless he saw the corpse with his own eyes. He'd spent too many years pinning over this plan to give up over such a trivial casualty as this. He'd get his revenge, gain complete control of this awesome power that both he and his father so greatly desired, and take back the life that was so unjustly stolen from him.

It wouldn't be easy, however, for he was up against Jin and Heihachi himself, and both were extremely difficult opponents. He'd have to beat Heihachi to him, and then defeat Jin himself.

True, he'd been defeated by both before, but Kazuya believed he'd survived them for a reason. He was destined to bring their downfalls, it was written in the stars that he would rise above them and take over all. It had to be. Otherwise, why else would he be here?

But first he'd have to find Jin. He had to find him and capture him.

That alone would be a great and wearing test on his side of the Devil gene.


* * * * *


A mysterious, hooded figure stood at the edge of a tall forest, a black canvass of trees towering behind him. His face was well hidden in the deep cavity of his hood, but two rich, crimson glowing eyes shone from the shadows.

They were gazing at the busy city ahead. It was late at night, the earth's natural lights dimmed until morn, and the artificial ones switched on and glaring brightly in their full glory. Even from this great distance, his ears could pick up the sounds of cars and buses commuting about the maze of streets.

Tokyo.

He was finally home.

Sliding his hood down on to his shoulders, he brushed his long bangs away from his face so that he could get a better look at the city, for this was the only time he'd be able to really stop and get a good look at it.

As much as he hated to admit it, it was as much home to him as the forest behind him was while he'd been living with his mother. It was where he was first trained to become a fighter under a great master, his grandfather, where he was educated in one of the best schools the country had to offer, where he discovered this curse that forever tainted his life, where he'd met her.

Her, the only girl that had meant anything to him in his life. The one girl who'd managed to bring him out of his shell and show him the joys of this world. The only who lit up his day with a simple smile and the soft sound of her laughter.

Her, the one girl who's life he feared he might destroy tonight.

* * * * *


Perhaps it was the music, loud, booming, irritating from the large speakers placed selectively about the room, or perhaps it was the lighting, dark, shadowy, fluorescent colors of the rainbow flashing off the white walls. It could have been the dancing, clustered, wild, bodies pressed together, swaying, grinding. Or maybe it was the people in the room, some strangers, some friends, all either standing, dancing or sitting. It could even have been the room in general; large but not roomy enough for all these people, messy, smelling of greasy food, stale beer and body odor.

Whatever it was, it wasn't allowing her to have a good time. Sitting on a large, plush couch in the back of the room, Xiao sat nursing a plastic cup of beer in her hands, only half listening to the attractive Japanese boy sitting beside her, partly because she could barely hear anything he was saying and partly because she wasn't particularly interested.

He, on the other hand, was quite interested, she noted somewhat distastefully. He was a friend of one of Miharu's friends. He didn't even live around here. He was visiting from his hometown in Nagoya. From what she'd heard of their one-sided conversation, he seemed like a pretty nice guy. There was nothing she could really find fault with, other than that his eyes were far too large. They made her feel uncomfortable, like at any moment those huge eyes of his would just lunge out at her and swallow her up.

Taking one last sip of her beer, she set it on a nearby plane-glass table. "I'm sorry," she said in what she hoped sounded like a sincere, apologetic tone. "I have to go."

Those wide, wide eyes widened even more, despite her disbelief at their ability to do so. "Already?" he asked, clearly disappointed. He glanced down at his wristwatch. "It's not even eleven o' clock."

"I know," she said, grabbing her coat and purse off the armrest and standing from the couch. She searched her mind for a good lie. "But I have to go to work early tomorrow morning."

"On a Sunday?" he asked, standing on his feet, as well.

"Yes," she said certainly, her lie coming out as easily and fluidly as though she'd been born with that as her sole purpose.

"Oh." She could tell he was looking for an argument to make her stay.

"You want to give me your number? I'll give you a call sometime." Another lie. She'd never call him, she'd never even consider it, but then she was desperate to get out of there.

"All right."

She rummaged through her purse until she found a scrap piece of paper and pen. Handing the two items to him, she waited patiently as he jotted down his name and telephone number.

"Okay," she said once he'd finished, giving him a fake smile. "I'll give you a call when I get the chance."

She didn't wait for a word of confirmation, she didn't even say good-bye to him as she turned and starting walking through the crowd of dancing people. The crowd was thicker than she'd anticipated; she had to push and shove some of her way through.

She was almost home free when she heard Miharu call her name. "Xiao, leaving already?"

Xiao stopped at the door, turning around and facing her friend. "Yes," she said. "I'm getting tired and I don't feel so well."

Miharu frowned, staggering slightly under the weight of a tall, bleached blond man leaning on her. Xiao recognized him. His name was Tatsuya, Miharu's latest "boy toy". Her friend's frown quickly faded as Tatsuya bent over and whispered something into her ear, causing a mad stir of giggles to erupt from her. They were both drunk. She could make out the glossiness of their eyes when the lights flashed over them and could smell the strong stench of alcohol on their breath. Suddenly Xiao felt the urge to throw up.

"All right, well, bye," she said quickly, turning.

"Hold up!" Miharu called after her. "Do you need a ride home?"

Yeah, right, she scoffed inwardly. Like she'd get in a car with her best friend in her current state. "That's okay, I'll take the subway."

After exchanging quick good-byes and Miharu promising to call her tomorrow, Xiao left. The party had taken place in room C2 on the third floor of a six-story apartment building. She took the elevator down to the first floor and then headed for the exit.

When Xiao opened the double glass doors leading to the outside world, strong gusts of wind came sailing towards her. She stopped on the sidewalk, finding relief in the cold, moist air blowing against her over-heated skin.

Dark storm clouds obscured the sky, droplets of rain falling from them and descending to the earth. It was like an answer to a prayer. Her clothes were getting wet, as she hadn't put on her coat yet, but she didn't care. She held her arms out, as if embracing the air; her coat draped over one arm, and lifted her face to the sky.

She wasn't sure how long she stood like that, making a spectacle of herself, lost in her own thoughts, in the soothing caress of nature's tears, and neither did she care. Her reverie was brought to an abrupt end, however, when a yellow taxi came whizzing past at high speed, driving straight through a large, deep puddle beside the curb.

Xiao shrieked, horrified, as an inevitable splash of water from the puddle came spraying up and showered her from head to toe. She spat and sputtered at the disgusting liquid, icy cold and tasting of dirt and mud and God knows what else that could be contaminated in it. Great, just great. When she'd been seeking a way of cooling herself down, this was hardly what she'd had in mind. She was thoroughly drenched, including her coat, which, sadly, would be of no use to her now.

Disgruntled, Xiao pushed her dripping hair away from her face, tossed her coat around her shoulders to hide the current state of her white blouse, which was almost as good as transparent now, and began trudging down the sidewalk towards the subway station.

It took her about fifteen minutes to walk to the station. Unfortunately, she'd arrived a little late, and the double glass doors were just beginning to close, the train getting ready to leave, when she ran up, and she just barely managed to squeeze herself inside before they closed in on her.

Xiao chose an empty seat at the back of the carriage. It was rather empty tonight, she noticed somewhat gratefully, though she couldn't bring herself to care too much. She picked at her shirt, displeased at how it clung to her skin, molded itself right to every curve she possessed.

She felt someone watching her and looked up to find a middle aged man dressed in a business suit sitting in the row across from her about three seats away. He was watching her intently, without shame, clearly taking pleasure in her situation. Normally, she would have mustered a snippy remark for the pervert, but tonight she didn't feel she had the energy to do so, and instead settled for wrapping her coat more firmly around herself.

It was all beginning to toll up, she realized. Between school and projects at the art gallery and finding work, not to mention trying to keep up with what little she had for a social life nowadays, she was drained. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. It was always late to bed from either a last minute project or a casual outing with friends or returning from yet another decline to a job offer, and early to rise the next morning so she wouldn't be stuck behind a long line at the local coffee house to get her much needed dose of caffeine-infested espresso to get her through the day. But, thankfully, it was already second semester and spring vacation was coming up in a few weeks. Hopefully she could rest then.

It was another half-hour before they came to her stop, and she practically leapt from her seat and bolted for the doors. Their metallic, automatic hinges caught and the doors slid open with a loud whoosh, raw, cold air from the stone tunnels washing over her already chilled body. Xiao bundled herself deeper under her coat and made a dash for the stairs that would lead to the world above.

Xiao's apartment was only a block north from the subway. She practically jogged down the street and across the pedestrian crosswalk to the tall building that housed her home. Xiao liked her little apartment. She and Miharu were neighbors in this large, old brick building. It wasn't so pretty on the outside, with its fading red bricks, its mud and dirt stains close to the pavement and its ugly tiled roof, but her little nook in the left corner of the building was small and cozy and gave a nice view of the city park.

She used her key and took the elevator to the fifth floor, three floors down from being at the top. It had to be as old as the building itself, for it moaned and groaned and took its own sweet time to get to her floor, with an occasional flicker of lights in protest. Taking the stairs would no doubt have been quicker, but, ever the slacker, why would she when there was a far-from-perfectly functioning elevator in the house?

The soft dinging of the bell signaled her arrival to the fifth floor. The doors opened only halfway before they stuck and Xiao had to push them the rest of the way (they'd been broken for months now, but her landlord had yet to get them fixed).

She walked down to the corner and approached apartment door E10. Grabbing for her keys once again, with the warming thought of a nice, hot shower to calm her fresh in her mind, she reached for the doorknob. She noticed something strange, however, that stopped her from fully executing her motions.

The door was already unlocked.

Xiao stared at the knob, a feeling of uneasiness overcoming her. She'd locked the door before she left, hadn't she? She was pretty sure she had; she was usually good about things like that.

But then…would that mean that someone had broken in? It wasn't unlikely, she supposed, though she wouldn't really know because this has never happened to her before. What if they were still inside? What if she were to walk in on them right as she opened the door? What if they were armed?

Xiao pressed her ear against the door, listening for any sounds of movement. She heard none.

Dozens of thoughts and questions filled her mind. What should she do? Should she go inside and see for sure? Should she go directly to the front desk and call the police? What if they escaped before the police came?

"Oh, c'mon," Xiao whispered to herself, her voice surprisingly calm and steady. "You didn't spend years of training to back down to something like this."

When she reached for the door handle again, her hand was shaky with nerves, and it rattled audibly. Xiao cursed angrily, bringing her other hand in to steady the other. Slowly, she turned the knob. She pushed the on the door with her hip, and slowly, slowly it creaked open.

Her hands still wrapped around the handle, she stepped cautiously into the darkened room, her eyes straining to see. She could hardly see a damned thing. She was suddenly aware of how frightened she was. The small room of what she knew from instinct was her living room was nothing but a black mass, except for the small trail of light that spilled in from the hallway. She berated herself for having closed the blinds before she left; if she hadn't, maybe she'd at least be able to see where she was going.

The sound of foot steps alarmed her and she turned in the direction from which it came, immediately releasing the door and adjusting herself into her fighting stance. She could just make out an outline of a tall figure standing in front of her kitchen.

"Stop where you are," she said, again, her voice surprisingly calm despite her apprehensive emotions gnawing away at her insides. "Don't move."

She felt it move before actually seeing it. An arm rising at its side, reaching for something on the wall.

Xiao managed to keep her expression neutral, though deep down she was confused by his actions. Was he going to attack or obey? She didn't know what to do. Silence filled the area.

Suddenly there was a loud click, and light filled the room.

Xiao gasped, nearly stumbling backward in stunned disbelief. No, it couldn't be. It wasn't possible; she had to be looking at a ghost.

"Ji—!"