Contemplation
The little spider spins its web silently in the rafters, its black back showing a tiny reflection of the flame that flickers far below it, the weak light sparkling along the lengths of fine silk which span the corner. The spider's beady eyes shine like black pearls imbedded in its head, observing the dark scene below, and sensing danger, it pulls itself up into the shadows, hiding in cracks of the ceiling.
Another set of eyes exists in the dojo, but Kazuya's gaze is black and fathomless, endless depths of thought swirling beneath his heavy brow, as he stares down the flame of the candle, as though he could read the language of its constant movement. The flame dances for the man who watches it, growing and reaching for the heavens as the red wax melts away beneath it, thick droplets of blood that roll down the candle and pool in the bowl of ebony that lifts it from the ground. As the fire writhes, the shadows follow suit, stretching themselves across the walls one moment, shrinking the next, cowering from Kazuya's fearsome silhouette, rising behind his seated form, dominating the painted silk of the ancient blind that divides the room. The warriors that adorn the barrier seem to cry and declare war on the figure that invades their territory, the shifting of the light giving their images life.
He gazes unheeding into the fire, lost in the turbulence of his own mind. Unconsciously his fingers trace the outline of the vivid scar that defiles his torso, the wicked injury marring the smoothness of his skin, its jagged, torn, roughness reaching from his collar bone to mid stomach, a constant reminder of his past.
The dancing warriors stop, and the flame stands still as Kazuya's eyes close, and he draws a deep breath. For a moment, time seems to stand still, as his lids slowly lift, and a third eye opens on his forehead. The fiery red of this new set of eyes gives the flame new strength, as it shudders and sparks, sending a wild rippling through the shadows, and the purple aura of malevolence lifts up from the seated Kazuya. He bows his head at the release, his own features restored.
The smoky wickedness drifts outwards, filling the room, seeping into the cracks, darkening the shadows. "You should have sent her away," the voice whispers, echoing in Kazuya's ears, tickling at his neck, breathing into his lungs, filling his mind. Heavy feet pad across the hard wood floor behind Kazuya, hidden by the silk blind, and he stands, looking only at his own shadow, spread across the barrier.
"She cannot defeat you," Kazuya addresses his shadow.
"No…" the voice hisses. "But she is… a distraction for you."
"You cannot kill her?" Kazuya asks, his voice cold and harsh, his eyes burning into the silk, irritated by the way the demon hides itself from him, when it knows his every thought.
The air shifts as the demon moves uneasily, coldness seeping over the floor from beneath the blind. "She is spirit, as I am. She cannot be killed."
Kazuya narrows his eyes, thinking. "She is a powerful fighter."
"She will not support you as I do," the voice growls.
"I will keep her close," Kazuya tells his demon, turning his back on it.
"That is a mistake. You do not need her."
"I have made my decision."
"Someone approaches," devil whispers, winding himself back around his host, taking refuge within.
Kazuya turns towards the door as footsteps are heard approaching. "Hai!" he responds as a sharp rap on the door signals that the visitor has reached their destination.
The door opens and Lee Chaolan enters closing it firmly behind him. "Oniisama, shitsurei shimasu," he says, before coming to stand before his brother.
"Lee," Kazuya says simply, glaring harshly at his adopted sibling.
"The new head of security, Angelica Featherstone, has brought… unpleasant news, regarding our father," Lee pauses for a moment, a nasty scowl crossing his face as he mentions his father. He looks hard at his brother, trying to determine his reaction, but Kazuya's expression reminds stoic. "It seems he survived the fall from the cliff, and has now returned to the city," Lee spits his words out, filling them with as much venom as is humanly possible.
"I see…" Kazuya replies, turning his back upon his brother and folding his arms across his chest.
"You're not surprised?" Lee questions, barely resisting the urge to step closer to his brother.
"No…" Kazuya replies simply, sinking deep into thought.
And so the two brothers remain for a time, each silent in their own thoughts, both complete opposites and both exactly alike, in almost every way. The candlelight sends fiery ripples of light through the silver hair of the younger man, and a streak of warmth along the harsh, structured black peak of the other. One brother fights to keep the fierce, volatile emotions within him contained, the other is comfortable to allow the anger to bubble deep within, no ripple of emotion appearing on the surface. One desires connection, longing to be allowed access to the other's mind, his thoughts, his opinions, or even just the sound of his voice, whilst the other is content to remain distant, finding some momentary semblance of peace in solitude. The younger man is painfully loyal, clinging to the recollection of their shared past, understanding why it is that his brother is so plagued, wishing to be accepted as an ally, and not a part of that diseased history, but the older man barely heeds the presence of his sibling. He wishes to detach himself from his past, to destroy it, and he will seek council only with the whispering in his head.
Lee draws his fingers shakily though his hair, agitated, waiting impatiently for his brother's response. He scowls impetuously at Kazuya's back, trying to peer over his shoulder, to catch a glimpse of his expression. Kazuya's lips move with silent words, his gaze directed into space, his thoughts focused internally. Lee crosses and uncrosses is arms, glancing around the darkened dojo, opening his mouth to speak occasionally, but stopping himself before he makes a sound, not wishing to anger his brother.
After some time, Kazuya raises his head. "Tekken," he says, before turning to again face Lee, who frowns at him. "I shall hold a second tournament," Kazuya explains, and Lee raises his eyebrows in understanding.
"Very well, my brother. I shall have PR make an announcement, and I will begin preparations at once. What prize do you wish to offer?"
"The prize shall be one thousand times that of the first tournament," Kazuya declares, and Lee only just manages to suppress a gasp.
"Are you sure?" he asks, without thinking. Kazuya's eyes snap to glare fiercely at his brother, who stares back into his dark eyes. "Of course. One thousand times that of the first tournament," Lee says, turning to leave.
"Lee," Kazuya stops him, and Lee turns to face him again, surprised that his brother wishes any more of him. "Send Ms Featherstone to see me."
"But…" Lee begins, but is cut off as Kazuya plunges his fist into his stomach, knocking him to the ground with his powerful and unexpected blow.
"You will not argue with me!" Kazuya barks at him, his eyes blazing, and his face contorted with anger. Lee stares up at his brother towering above him, shocked, as always by the speed at which his demeanour changes.
"Hai, Oniisama!" he snarls at him, getting to his feet, ignoring the pain he is in. Kazuya's glare remains fixed on Lee as he makes his way out of the room without further complaint.
Outside, Lee leans back against the wall for a second, breathing deeply. "He's getting worse than the old man," he mumbles under his breath, as he makes his way down the corridor.
Once Lee has gone, Kazuya returns to sit in front of the candle, steadying his breath and focusing on the flickering of the tiny flame, shrinking gradually, then extinguishing in the pool of molten wax, plunging the room into darkness.