This is a prequel of sorts to Sins of the Father, which is still knocking about somewhere, and surprisingly still getting the occasional review. You don't need to have read Sins of the Father, though; it should still make sense. It's set between Tekken 1 and Tekken 2, therefore 23 years before - I think. I'm better at writing than maths.
I still don't own the rights to Tekken
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As she leant back into the seat, watching the ground recede from the tiny window, Kira felt an uncomfortable sensation in her stomach. This was it...probably the last time she would see Japan. She was leaving behind the last four years of her life, and leaving behind much that she loved.
Kira wiped away the tears that had begun to sting her eyes, knowing that if she started crying, she likely never to stop. It was only just starting to hit her now; for the past week or two, she had been walking around in a daze, her thoughts and emotions numb. Only now was she finally acknowledging, both physically and mentally, that she had been sucked into a nightmare.
Through the dark turbulence that was sweeping her mind, she became aware that someone was speaking to her.
Are you alright, madam?
A stewardess was looking at her with genuine concern, and Kira realised why; she had broken out in a cold sweat, and was trembling violently. Her knuckles had turned white as they gripped the armrests...
I'm fine, Kira said in a shaky voice, forcing herself to release her grip, willing herself to stop shaking. I - I just don't like flying, that's all.
the stewardess said sympathetically. She bent down to the seat next to Kira's, and her face burst into a brilliant smile as she looked at its occupant. Oh! How old is she?
Eight months, Kira replied, managing a weak smile.
She is gorgeous! She's like a little angel! What's her name?
Kira replied after a pause. Yes, that was her name now. Her old name, like so much else, had been left behind.
That's pretty. I...
The stewardess stopped as her attention was distracted by the other stewardesses, who were glaring at her. Her brilliant smile faltered.
Err, I have to go, she said lamely. I hope you enjoy the rest of your flight, madam.
As she walked briskly down the aisle, Kira closed her eyes. Enjoy the flight? She felt that she would never enjoy anything again.
An urge gripped her; an insane urge to march into the cockpit, and demand that they turn the plane back, so that she could go home. But her entire being sighed with despair; she was going home. There was no going back to Japan, not after what she had discovered.
She looked at her daughter, who was looking back up at her inquisitively. She stroked Dai's cheek; the little girl rewarded her with a huge smile. Kira smiled back sadly, trying to see what good there was in their situation.
We still have each other, she said in a quiet voice. And maybe one day I can take you back to Japan.
As her child fell to sleep, Kira couldn't help but wonder....
How did it come to this?
* * * * * *
Over two years earlier...
Oh, oh, I'm an alien, I'm a legal alien, I'm an English girl in Ja-paaan, oh, oh-
The guards of Kira's cell winced at her off-key parody of the old Sting song. They had long since given up on any attempts to silence her, as they just seemed to make her louder and, if possible, even more out of tune.
Reasoning with her was impossible; they couldn't speak English, and she was claiming she couldn't speak Japanese. Her cell was a constant cacophony of yells, chants, and song.
Do you think that if we killed her, we could claim provocation? the eldest guard said wearily. His comrade rubbed his face.
We're under orders, No harm to the prisoner', he replied, sighing. He shook his head. I can't believe I'm pulling you up on rules...
We all have our breaking points, the older man said darkly, looking at Kira with a murderous glint in his eye as she launched into the third verse.
Whatever point he was going to make was cut off by a gentle beeping, accompanied by the intermittent flashing of an icon on a nearby monitor. The younger guard grinned. He's here. Finally! Maybe she'll stop being our problem now.
At least she's stopped singing, the other grunted. Come on, let's clear this place up.
As her captors went about tidying the assorted cigarette ends and food packets they had left strewn around, Kira pondered the information she had just about heard. Someone was coming for her, that she was certain. Obviously a superior, as they were keen to make a good impression. But who?
It would have helped, Kira thought sourly, if she knew who had captured her. At first she thought it was the police, but that thought was soon dismissed. Although the Japanese police had powers that seemed excessive compared to their Western counterparts, she doubted that those powers extended to chloroforming suspects. That, and the fact she had been detained for nearly two days without interrogation - or even mild questioning - suggested that this was a private enterprise.
The guards snapped to attention as the door opened. Although she hadn't been sure of what to expect, she had definitely expected nothing like this man. He was young, for a start - probably in his mid twenties at the most. Instead of a uniform, he was wearing an expensive looking Italian suit - at least Kira assumed it was Italian; swanky suits usually were. His expression was cold, and seemed to suggest an utter ruthlessness that made Kira, for the first time, truly afraid.
Not that she was going to let him know that.
she said easily. Are you my lawyer? If so, you better speak English, cos I don't speak Japanese, and I'd hate to resort to mime.
That will be quite unnecessary, Miss Wilson, the man said in perfect English. Although I'm sure you're - underestimating - your linguistic skills.
Well, you know what they say, modesty is a virtue, she smiled, but it was a tight, forced smile. One of the guards sniggered at her discomfort, and the sound drew the newcomers attention. He turned to the guards, and looked as if he was seeing them for the first time.
Is something the matter? he asked coldly. The guard shook his head quickly. He had gone very pale. The man sneered, and said dismissively,
They scuttled away, leaving Kira alone with the man. She forced her expression into a look of unconcern.
Just can't get the staff these days, she said brightly. The man looked at her, his expression curious rather than malicious.
Do you have any idea who I am? he said, folding his arms. Kira shuffled uneasily.
Well...no, to be honest, she answered truthfully. But I know you have an excellent taste in suits, and that hair! She gestured to his head. Very cool.
His jaw dropped slightly before he composed himself. You're too kind, really, he said sarcastically.
See, modesty is a virtue! she grinned. Her father had been a keen boxer, and had always told her that to confuse the opponent' was a great tactic. Kira, however, had never really been one for fighting, and had avoided opponents' by avoiding people in general. Her father's advice had remained, and had seemed to have worked. The man's expression twitched before becoming stony again.
I am Kazuya Mishima, he announced. he studied Kira's expression, which had remained blank for a moment, then-
Oh. Oh, she said, realisation dawning. And then she added lamely,
Kazuya Mishima looked satisfied as the colour drained from her face, and she seemed to deflate for a moment. So now you realise, he said, the trouble you're in?
She looked up at him. Yes. I've left the oven on...just kidding, just kidding, she said, seeing his expression darken. So...about that trouble...you are referring to that nine million dollars diverted from the New York account?
That's the one, Kazuya said. He paused, frowning. Are there any others I should know about?
Not Mishima Corporation related, no, she said. At least, I don't think so. It's hard to keep track...
Kazuya just looked at her. Who else have you hit?
Well, I divested G-Corp of twelve million, Umbrella of six million...oh, and I sent Sony's research and development files to Mitsubishi for a laugh. She thought hard. There's been other stuff, but nothing really big.
Her interrogator walked a few paces, his expression disbelieving. So, let me get this straight. You hacked into some of the tightest security money can buy...for a laugh?
It's a hobby! Kira cried defensively, but quickly rethought her position. Well, not technically a hobby, because I keep some of the money for myself-
'Some of the money'? Kazuya queried. What about the rest of it?
Goes to charity, Kira shrugged. I like to think of myself as a latter-day Robin Hood. Redistribution of wealth, and...stuff.
She had become quite enthusiastic in explaining her career path before realising that she had redistributed Kazuya's wealth. He seemed immersed in thought, however.
You weren't employed by any of my rivals? he asked. She stifled a laugh.
No. I've never been employed, so no worries there.
I have a proposition, Kazuya said. It is obvious from your incursion into our accounts that our system security is somewhat lacking. I am offering you the chance - the challenge - to make sure that this never happens again. There are also files left by...the previous chairman that none of the zaibatsu's so-called experts' can open. They should be no problem for someone of your obvious talents.
Kira looked surprised, but Kazuya could tell that she was considering the offer very seriously. He had an answer prepared for her next question.
Interesting offer, she conceded. But I don't really like taking orders. What's in it for me?
Kazuya smirked. In addition to the benefits and salary enjoyed by all senior staff at the zaibatsu, I won't take the evidence that was used to find you to the police...or press charges.
That's blackmail! Kira said angrily. Her indignation made Kazuya smile.
That's business, Kazuya said lightly. Take it or leave it.
