Author's notes: This story is mostly based on Tekken 4 and the currently (2004) released information on Tekken 5 and its characters. Though some infos were taken from Tekken Official, some situations, events and characters are all fanmade. Rated G
Disclaimer: Kazuya Mishima, Jin Kazama, Asuka Kazama, Heihachi Mishima, Ling Xiaoyu, Jun Kazama, Feng Wei and all Tekken characters referred in this fanfic are the property of NAMCO. This is only a fan fiction from the imagination of an obsessed fan. No copyright infringement intended.
Chapter 8: Search for the Truth
"Tinkering with the computer again, eh, Aiko?"
"Oh. Good evening, Dr. Larne," Aiko Sanada greeted before turning back to her data on the computer.
"It's already late. Are you done with all your exercises?"
"Yes, Dr. Larne."
"Hmm...why are you still looking at that?"
"It's just..." Aiko minimized the data and turned her chair to fully face the elderly scientist. "All this...it's just not bringing anything back."
"Of course not. You have amnesia but that doesn't change the fact that you're Aiko Sanada. In time, you'll come to accept that and go on with your life," Dr. Larne assured. He raised an eyebrow when he saw something around Aiko's neck. "That's a pretty little trinket. Where did you get that?"
Aiko held the gold bauble between her fingers. She had put a thick black string into a hoop above it so that she could wear it as a choker.
"I found it somewhere," she shrugged. That seemed to satisfy the scientist for the time being.
"Very well. I shall be leaving now, Ms. Sanada. Don't strain your eyes too much."
"I won't."
Aiko watched the scientist leave and turned back to the computer again. It was no use. She might have to deal with this for a while. She reached out to shut the computer down when she caught a whiff of coffee. Fueled by the urge for some, she stood up and walked over to the coffee machine. She poured the cup up to the brim and was about to take a sip when she heard voices. Two men, whom she recognized to be orderlies, were walking past the laboratory, seemingly oblivious to her presence.
"I'm pretty sure Dr. Larne and the other higher people are behind this mess."
"Yeah. But that ain't stoppin' the Mishima Zaibatsu from runnin' still. Maybe Heihachi Mishima's still alive."
"Are you nuts?! It sez here in the news that he died in that explosion in Honmaru!"
"Get real! Who'd you think is running the company, anyway? It has to be Heihachi!"
"Well...it could be Kazuya, you know. He did run the company once."
"K-Kazuya? The Kazuya?! Our corporation's ex-experiment? He was killed in that explosion too, wasn't he?!"
"Dude! They never found the body! I'm telling ya! That Kazuya ain't human! Well...at least partly, but still..."
The voices began fading away as the orderlies walked deeper into the corridors. Inside the laboratory, Aiko stood stiffly, the coffee still midway to her lips. She set the cup down with a clank, spilling most of its contents.
"Kazuya...Mishima Zaibatsu...Heihachi..." she whispered to herself repeatedly. There was a strange familiarity to those things that sent her mind reeling and her heart pounding. She closed her eyes and concentrated. She repeated the names again. Yes, there was something about them. She saw some vague impressions...a few blurred faces but still, she was unsure.
With new hope, she ran back to the computer and began a search. She was surprised to find several links but of all those links, one stood out among all others: Iron Fist Tournament. After pulling her hair up in a bun to keep the strands from her face, she clicked on the link.
"The Iron Fist Tournament is a martial arts competition sponsored by Heihachi Mishima, CEO and proprietor of the Mishima Zaibatsu, one of the world's biggest corporations. Martial artists from all over the globe come to compete for the one billion dollar first prize, as well as the prestigious title of the King of the Iron Fist Tournament.
The rules are simple. Fighters go to several stages to meet and defeat their opponents in the battle field. With each win, fighters advance to the next stage until only one fighter is left to fight in the final battle, that is, with Heihachi Mishima himself."
Below, were some sub links: Tournament History, Winners and a single category marked Past Competitions. Under that category, were Iron Fist Tournament 4, 3, 2 and 1.
"I should check out the latest..."
"The Fourth Iron Fist Tournament:
Date of tournament:..."
"This is just a few months ago!"
"King of the Iron Fist Tournament 4: Heihachi Mishima
Tournament Location: Mishima Zaibatsu"
Below that was a list of all the entrants arranged in alphabetical order. Aiko jumped forward to Mishima, Kazuya and Mishima, Heihachi, clicking the latter first.
Name: Mishima, Heihachi
Age: 75
Height: 180cm
Blood type: B
Place of Origin: Japan
Fighting Style: Mishima-style Karate
Aiko stared hard at Heihachi's picture. She didn't like him at first sight and she didn't really know why. Returning to the list of names, she clicked on Kazuya Mishima's profile.
Name: Mishima,
Kazuya
Age: 49
Height: 181cm
Blood type: AB
Place of Origin: Japan
Fighting Style: Mishima-style Karate
Aiko's fingers began to tremble as she clutched her white blouse tightly. Her throat suddenly became very dry and it hurt to swallow. She blinked her eyes hard and enlarged Kazuya's picture.
"Who...are...you...?" she reached out to touch the screen, running her forefinger over the image. Deep inside, she knew she had seen him somewhere...met him perhaps...or even known him once.
"Kazuya..." she whispered and then grimaced. Pain was searing from her shoulder: from her tattoo.
"Strange..." she minimized Kazuya's profile and was about to stand up and confront Dr. Larne with her discoveries when one of the names caught her attention.
"Kazama, Jin?" Aiko's heart began to pound again. She immediately clicked on the name and when the new window opened, she didn't bother to read the profile. She didn't need to. The picture of the young man was enough to send her running towards the printer. On Jin Kazama's left shoulder, was the same tattoo she had on her right shoulder.
Chapter 9