Chapter Twenty-One

That day felt eerily the same as the day that they had buried the casket. The dry heat and burning sunlight, people constantly wiping sweat off their brows as the construction workers worked with their machinery to carefully dig up the grave. Lei stood next to Drake, his hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers, sunglasses on as he watched pensively with each bit of dirt that was removed and piled next to the slowly deepening hole.

"You wouldn't think," Drake yelled over the noise of the machinery, "That it'd take an hour to dig a hole six feet deep."

"Huh?" Lei yelled back, still keeping his eyes forward; he hadn't heard what the fed had said, though part of him was purposely ignoring anything Drake had to say.

"I said--" The digging stopped, and Drake cut himself off as the leader directing the workers trotted over to the two agents, pulling his construction hat off and cradling it underneath his arm.

"Agent Drake, we're going to move out this equipment in a bit. We've hit the casket, and we have to get a crane to pull it out safely," the man said, his eyes squinted in the bright sunlight. The director then glanced over his shoulder. "I can also call a van to have the cargo transported to the lab as soon as we get it out. But it's going to be another thirty minutes before we start working again, just to let you know."

Drake rolled his eyes and started to reply, however Lei jumped in, "That's fine. You guys are doing great, and we appreciate your cooperation in this."

"Thank you, Detective Lei," the director said before cutting his eyes at the federal agent then quickly turning and leaving to finish giving orders to his crew. Lei's gaze followed the man as he hurried off, and the detective sighed heavily, his ears still ringing a bit from the low rumbles of digging equipment.

With eyes still forward, Lei commented, "You're awfully impatient about this."

"I just want to get this over with," Drake said calmly, pushing up his glasses with his index finger. "Heihachi Mishima's gone too long without a blemish on his record."

"...Maybe because he hasn't done anything. Ever thought about that?"

The agent laughed and glanced over at Lei, "That's ridiculous. There's evidence linking him to everything from embezzlement to murder--"

"--I'm no lawyer, but isn't that all circumstantial?" the detective shrugged. "And you know, even Bryan had his doubts."

Drake looked ahead at the workers; they were all gathered around their supervisor, listening intently and nodding. The balding man sighed heavily, "I know." He turned his attention back to Lei and shook his head, "I never did understand that. Someone that worked so long tracking this criminal, and Agent Fury still had his doubts in the end."

"Sometimes the more you learn, the less you know," Lei shrugged, still keeping his gaze ahead; he shoved his hands in his pants pockets and watched as workers began to dismantle and move equipment. He squinted a bit, the sunlight starting to get to him despite wearing his shades; in the blinding light he could almost see Jun standing there shaking her head at him in disappointment, and he frowned. The detective let out a heavy sigh, and closed his eyes, her image burnt onto his vision. She was otherworldly, flowing white sundress, her plainness that still somehow managed to make her more radiant than any other woman he had known.

He blamed that on his sentimentalism. He knew that she had never been perfect, that possibly she never had the same feelings for him that he did for her. But still, that was how he judged every woman after her, by how close they came to being her. And of course, there was never anyone that even remotely came close, not even Wenjun. Lei suddenly hated himself for that.

The detective took in a deep breath; the air was heavy with the scent of the earth, dry and dusty from the digging, and he reopened his eyes.

o.o.o.o.o

Lee shifted on the bed he was lying on before yawning a bit and finally opening his eyes. Slowly he sat up and glanced over at the window; he could tell that it was late in the morning, perhaps even well into the afternoon. He then rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath as he jumped out of bed and hurried out of Kazuya's bedroom, upset that he had slept in.

He stopped halfway down the staircase as he saw Kazuya standing in the living room; the older Mishima brother's back was turned as he studied the pictures on the mantle again. Lee frowned to himself and continued downstairs.

Kazuya glanced over his shoulder, "Good morning," then went back to staring at photos, his face drawn down in a tight, frustrated frown.

"Morning," the younger man yawned as he walked past his brother to enter the kitchen. He paused, however, surprised at how natural it was to be speaking to his brother now.

He had spent most of the previous night in shock, barely able to respond to anything Kazuya said or asked. Yet, the older man had been patient, seemingly understanding his brother's disbelief. Eventually, the older brother ended up coaxing Lee to go back to sleep, and Kazuya slept on the couch since, like Lee, he was ill-eased by Jin's bedroom.

Lee hesitated a bit then began, "Kaz?"

"Hm?" his brother responded, facing his brother and crossing his arms.

"I'm...happy to see you. I really am."

Kazuya chuckled and turned back, "Sure."

Lee sighed heavily and shook his head as he turned around; part of him was elated by that response. It was something Kazuya definitely would have said in the past if his feelings were hurt. Though at the same time, he felt sick to his stomach. There was his dead older brother standing in the living room, not having aged any since the last time Lee had seen him alive. Between that and Anna, he was wondering if God was playing some kind of twisted joke on him. He shook his head violently at the notion, never had been a believer in God himself and started back to the kitchen.

"Did you know him?" Kazuya asked suddenly. Lee stopped walking and looked over his shoulder.

"Who?" he asked, slowly turning back around, his eyes meeting his brother's.

"Jun's son. Did you know him at all?" Lee shook his head. He then cautiously approached his brother and joined him at his side. The silver-haired man then turned to look at the photos on the mantle himself, his gaze fixated on Jin's graduation picture.

Lee smiled to himself and murmured, "He had your smile." He then glanced over at his brother, whose face had darkened.

"I don't get it," the older man mumbled as he finally turned away, marching off. His voice raised sharply, "I don't fucking get it!"

"Kaz..." Lee cringed and followed his brother into the breakfast room. "I'm not sure what you mean by--"

"--I mean, that kid! Where the hell did he come from!"

"I've been wanting to ask you that for years, but..." Kazuya rolled his eyes and faced his brother. "By the way...where were you?"

"Me?" Kazuya laughed a bit before pulling out a chair from the table in the room. He didn't answer but sat down, placing his hands on the tabletop; his fingers were balled up into tight fists and were trembling. "Where was I..." he repeated, his voice trailing. "Let's see..." The look on his face alarmed Lee; Kazuya's eyes were distant and stormy as he kept his gaze away from his brother. Absentmindedly, he began tapping the table with his right fist; Lee quietly slipped into the seat across from the older man.

"Kaz?" Lee repeated softly.

"You don't want to know."

o.o.o.o.o

He wasn't sure exactly where he was going, but Kazuya sped on the highway that night in his black SUV, nervous. He knew that he shouldn't had left her alone, but he had panicked. Moreso, he wanted to turn back around, yet he didn't and kept driving. On the horizon, he could see the bright city limits; instead of driving towards them, he took an exit and continued to cruise aimlessly, car stereo blaring Wagner as he tried to calm himself. Better yet, he tried to convince himself that he had done nothing wrong; he certainly did not remember even stopping the vehicle and getting out, let alone touching the bitch. He knew better.

What felt like hours, he drove, eventually turning off his music and only listening to the sounds of his engine and the rushing wind. There were few cars on the highway, most of which passed him in the opposite direction towards the city. Whenever headlights flashed at him, he flinched, fearing he would be pulled over. However, nothing happened. Soon, he decided to go home.

He never really considered his apartment in Chicago "home"; though it was definitely a testament to his wealth, well furnished, spacious, and stylish, it never felt like the manor. He wasn't an urban person by any means, constantly annoyed by the noise. Though, he needed to be around the area to keep the family business from collasping. In the two years that he had headed Mishima, the company stock and profits had sky-rocketed. Kazuya was a very gifted businessman, with rationale and business sense that was only rivaled by his father. However, he also had a personal charm about him that Heihachi had lacked. That made getting what he wanted a lot easier; behind the charming smile and soothing voice, Kazuya Mishima was a predator.

He honestly didn't know where that came from. As a child, he never had any friends in school because of his horrible temper. He had terrible luck with relationships on top of that. And tonight, he was certain if anything happened to him, he wouldn't be able to save himself from bad press. He gritted his teeth in anger as that thought came to him. Of course, the first thing he would be worried about was his reputation, not if she was hurt.

Finally, he cruised into the Chicago city limits, and his car slowed as he hit some late night traffic; he actually didn't live in the city itself. His apartment complex was in a suburb a few miles outside of city, but it was usually faster to go through than around at night. His mind switched to blank as he was bombarded with city light, and he reached over to turn on the radio again. He casually flipped through stations until he got a decent alternative rock station and settled on that. As he drove through part of downtown, his driving slowed more; people were coming and going into the bars and clubs. He frowned to himself as he watched a couple come out one of the restaurants; the woman was stumbling, obviously drunk and as her mate tried to help her, she pushed him away violently, nearly falling over herself but managing to keep from tripping as she leaned up against what Kazuya guessed was her car.

He suddenly wanted to call Anna.

It took a few minutes, but when Kazuya finally came to an intersection, he opted to detour and turn; Lee lived in town and was only about fifteen minutes away. He wasn't sure if his brother would even be home and thought about calling the younger man on his cell phone just to make sure. Yet, Kazuya knew Lee wouldn't answer. He continued driving.

The building he came up to was in a older section of the city; the building itself had been a hotel during the 1950s but had been converted into an apartment building. It was surrounded by older, retro homes, many of which were in piss-poor condition much like the apartment building. Why Lee chose to live in such a neighborhood was beyond Kazuya, but he knew it wasn't worth it to ask his brother questions anymore. Lee had become a recluse, though he was often the genius behind much of the research from the technology and development sections of Mishima's medical facilities. Often, the younger Mishima brother didn't bother coming home from work and slept on a cot in his office. Initially, he had seemed excited that he was going to be working with famous minds, such as Viktor Bostonavich. But these days, he was burning himself out with work, and Kazuya knew that his brother was drinking on the job. That bothered the older Mishima a great deal, since Lee had never drank before their father died.

He pulled up and parked in the parking lot behind the building; it was overran with weeds and potholes, though it looked in better condition than the lot of the convenience store across the street. After he shut off the car, he sat quietly, first staring ahead into space then finally turning in his seat and looking up at one of Lee's windows. The lights were on.

Kazuya sighed with relief as he quickly got out his car and hurried over to the building.

The usual riff-raff was there; kids that should had long been in bed playing in the wan-lit stairwell, that same crackhead that Kazuya always saw hanging around the parking lot was sitting inside, huddled up in his soiled windbreaker, a couple of women gossiping in Spanish about the man then about Kazuya as soon as they saw him walk through front entrance. He smiled uneasily, greeted them politely, then started a bit of small talk with them in their language; it was mostly as a friendly warning to let them know that he could understand every word they were saying. Kazuya then made his way up the narrow stairwell to Lee's floor, dodging and stepping over people that were out enjoying the autumn night.

Halfway up, he dug in the inside pocket of the black leather duster he was wearing and pulled out his lighter and a pack of cigarettes. Just a short year ago, he would have been appalled at the thought of even touching a cigarette and had often expressed his disgust at his brother's smoking habit. But these days, he was a heavier smoker than Lee, and his upstairs trot slowed as he lit his smoke then put away his pack and lighter. When he reached Lee's apartment door, he pulled the cig from his mouth and knocked; he actually had a key to the place, but he had promised himself not use it unless it was an emergency.

The door cracked opened a bit, and Michelle's face lit up before she quickly closed the door to undo the chain and let Kazuya in.

"Just the person I was hoping to see!" she said brightly, opening the door completely, though her words were slurred a bit. The older man smiled acutely and leaned over to hug her then peck her on the cheek. He then pulled away, his hands resting on her shoulders.

As he expected, the younger girl's eyes were bloodshot and unfocused, though he was relieved that she didn't seem completely out of it, and if anything, she was probably just starting to come down. The apartment, however, didn't smell like marijuana, so he knew she had lit up before coming over. That was usually her way of softening the experience of dealing with Lee after he had been drinking, snorting, or both.

He patted Michelleonce on the shoulder before pulling away to take a drag, "How is he?"

"I don't know. He's been in his bedroom since I got here." Michelle moved to the side for Kazuya, stumbling a bit. She caught herself and started giggling, though it almost sounded like a soft sob to Kazuya. She then hastily closed the door and latched it lock, leaning onto the door for support. She was silent then; her back to Kazuya, forehead resting on the door as her shoulders hunched up, as she laughed and wept to herself.

She was shirtless that night, wearing nothing but black sports bra along with her hip-hugger cargos, and barefoot, while her hair was up messily in a clip. Kazuya took another long drag from his smoke, idly studying the curves of her back, his eyes following her spine until they hit the small of her back. Casually, he sat down on the small couch in room and rested his left ankle on his right knee, never taking his eyes off Michelle, who continued sobbing quietly into the door, her cries muffled by her hands. Normally, Kazuya would have consoled her, but tonight he made himself stay put on the couch. His thoughts were wandering too much, and he squeezed his eyes shut as his mind ran wild. His hands wanted wanted to explore the younger girl's body and squeeze that perfect ass of hers. He wanted to fondle her full breasts and run his tongue down the graceful curve of her spine. He thought about how he easily could take her right that moment, just like he had done before.

Kazuya's eyes snapped opened, bewildered and ashamed. He slumped back in his seat, still watching his brother's girlfriend as she trembled and whimpered, reminding him of watching Anna reach her peak. With that thought, he took one last drag then absentmindedly put out his smoke in the ashtray on the sofa table next to the couch before closing his eyes again. He could feel himself getting hard, but he kept his arms up on the back of the couch and his ankle resting on his knee, though the rubbing of his thighs againsthis groinweren't helping any. However, he reminded himself that Michelle was half out of it and wouldn't notice. And he could get up anytime and excuse himself to the bedroom with the lie that he was going to coax Lee out.

He knew he wouldn't get up.

Instead, he listened intently to the girl before him sob. He couldn't even explain why to himself why he liked that sound, or if he ever really did. But he hadn't been thinking straight all night.

She shouldn't had trusted me.

His eyes closed again, and he swallowed hard to silence the groan in his throat. He imagined himself clutching a fistful of Michelle's hair as she kneeled before him, all of his length in her mouth, his teeth clenched over and over again until he arched forward grabbing the sides of the younger girl's head as he pumped furiously, as if he hated her. In his head, he could hear her choking; he loved it, he wanted it.

His thoughts were broken as he felt a hand on his thigh; slowly, he opened his eyes, his body suddenly tensing more as Michelle rested her head his lap, and she went about unzipping his fly and servicing him quietly, much to Kazuya's dismay. Or relief. He wasn't sure; his leg twitched a little.

He climaxed shortly, he clasped the top of her head and gritted his teeth, managing to keep quiet. Then finally, he was awash with calm; he apologetically stroked Michelle's hair as she laid her head back down on his lap. From the back hallway, the sound of a door opening creaked, and eventually his younger brother stumbled into view before leaning over on one of the hallway walls that led out of his bedroom, glassy-eyed and sweat-drenched; he was clad in nothing more than a bathrobe, and his hair hung in messy, grey cords.

Lee was silent for awhile, obviously disoriented, but he finally managed to say, "Did you need something?"

"Yeah," said the older man as he continued to pet Michelle; she kept quiet. "A phone number."

"Whose?"

"Anna's. You know where she's at, right?"

The younger man was silent and turned back around, moving painfully slow back down the little hallway. After what felt like an eternity, he re-emerged, holding a folded slip of paper. He then made his way to his brother and stopped short of him about a foot. He then handed Kazuya the paper before turning away.

"And where are you going?" the older brother asked as he lightly ran his nails across the back of neck of the girl between his legs.

Lee looked over his shoulder, "Back to bed. I'm tired." With that, the silver-haired man shuffled off back down the hallway, ending with the sound of a door opening and latching shut quietly.

Kazuya let out a frustrated sigh then opened up the paper; sure enough, there was a phone number sprawled on there, just legible enough. He pulled away from Michelle, forcing her to sit up on her knees; she was still somewhat dazed as if she had been dreaming.

"I'm sorry," she said looking over her shoulder over at the hallway.

Kazuya stood up and yawned.With his head down as he adjusted himself, he replied,"For what?"

"It's just that... it's weird when you see someone you know in a place this big..." Her voice trailed.

Kazuya stared down at her, mortified.

o.o.o.o.o

"So, is your dad still being an asshole?" Jin asked as he took a long drag from his cigarette.

"I wouldn't know. I don't talk to him," Forest replied; he leaned in to light up his own cig then took a long drag, his body relaxing as it soaked in the nicotine. He and Jin were sitting outside on the tiny back balcony of Jin and Christie's apartment that evening, watching parties starting up, as if they had never ended the night before. Inside, they could hear Grant conversing cheerfully with Christie, their laughter muffled behind the glass backdoor and curtains. "And you. You obviously haven't had your brains blown out, like Jules told everyone."

Forest paused to take another long drag, looking out ahead over the city, "This is where you've been all this time, huh?" His eyes stayed forward.

Jin shook his head, "I've only been here about year. I was in Florida awhile until I got into some trouble there."

"Surprise."

"You're one to talk, fuckwad," Jin glanced over at Forest, a small grin growing across his face. He frowned, however, as he noticed that Forest's face hadn't changed any. He then sighed heavily and looked ahead as well. They both kept silent and listened to the noise around them; laughter, music, distant traffic, and the slight winter breeze that was blowing.

Jin shook his head, "I know what you're thinking--"

"--You have any idea how, Jesus, how fucked up Julia was after that? How fucked up Eddy was? Or Rang and Xiao ? Hell, how fucked up I was?"

"It wasn't like that, I mean...I didn't mean for everything to turn out like that." Jin hung his head for a second then let out a frustrated huff. He lifted his head, "Besides, it's not like she doesn't know I'm okay. It doesn't matter anyway; I'm sure she and Hwoarang are enjoying fucking each other's brains out."

There was a hint of cynicism in Jin's last line, though it was also remorseful.

He continued, "I was scared, Law. I still am."

Forest gritted his teeth, "Of what? You got to start over. We didn't--"

"--Before you start preaching that shit on me, do me a favor. Go home and face the fact that your father is a fucking bigot." Jin stood up and turned toward the door. "Until then, you're no better than me." The Mishima then made his way to the backdoor. Before he opened it, he turned and flicked his cigarette from his fingers, sending it sailing over the edge of the balcony. He then slid the door open and slipped inside, leaving Forest to himself.