Now....

Has the child been exhibiting any...unusual behaviour?

Jeremy asked the question cautiously, uncertain how the others would react. They surely knew of his suspicions, perhaps even shared them, but as of yet they had not been voiced. Although he was the head of the organisation, Reiko and Yamada were its heart and soul. Their opinion was vital to him, and he hoped that he hadn't over stepped the mark.

For goodness sake, Jeremy, she's only a baby, Reiko said defensively. Stop treating her like - like a bomb that's about to go off-

I do not! Jeremy protested, rather too quickly. But we can't escape the fact that a certain amount of caution is needed-

Yamada said straight faced. Ten month old girls can be lethal.

Reiko nodded gravely. Indeed. The child nearly had my eye out with a plush Winnie the Pooh-

Original or Disney? Yamada inquired seriously.



Yamada sucked in air through his teeth, wincing. Jeremy's right. The child needs to be stopped immediately. A Winnie the Pooh-

An original Winnie the Pooh, no less, Reiko reminded him.

-In the hands of the wrong person? Yamada continued. Who knows what damage she could cause?

The Japanese couple shook their heads, their faces showing expressions of pure consternation. Jeremy sighed and raised his brows.

Have you two quite finished? he asked, sounding exasperated. Of course she's not a danger now, but what about when she's older? We should keep our minds open.

Reiko agreed. Keep our minds open'. We don't know enough about this so-called Devil Gene to make any kind of judgment - even if she does have it, it doesn't mean that she'll turn out like her father, or any of the others. Treating her like some sort of dangerous freak is likely to drive her down the same path-

Jeremy interrupted. Every person we've come into contact with that possesses this...characteristic, has been dangerous-

No, listen, Reiko said, cutting him off. They've been dangerous, but people are dangerous. Those people have been pushed to the edge for one reason or another, and have chosen to use their characteristic' to punish those they see as being against them. They've done evil things, but it doesn't make them evil.

Rubbing his eyes, Jeremy sighed deeply. He was in no mood for a philosophical debate, but it seemed that he had no choice in the matter. He paused, trying to put into words all that he felt.

I've tried to treat her normally, but I've seen the devastation can be caused by those with the Devil Gene. He ran his hand through his hair, which was peppered with grey. I can't help but wonder whether we've brought a monster into our midst.

Will you listen to yourself, Reiko whispered coldly, an oddly chilling sound. You are talking about a baby, Jeremy! A baby! Her eyes glittered. Refer to her as a monster again, and I will kill you.

Jeremy looked startled, but Yamada shrugged mildly. She's become rather attached to Kira and Dai, he offered as way of explanation. Jeremy leant back in his chair, feeling that he had, perhaps, overstepped the mark.

he muttered, and then louder,

Reiko continued to glare at him. Yamada patted her on the arm, and looked at Jeremy with an unusually serious expression adorning his face.

This little girl, if - if - she possess the gene, will be the youngest we've ever known. We have an opportunity to watch her progress, but we should do so without treating her like an experiment. Just accept her for what she is, Jeremy - a little girl. If she's raised by people who love her, who are ready to support her, she might just turn out fine. Then again, he shrugged, she might not. Isn't that a risk all parents take?

But if she turns-

If she turns, Jeremy, then we'll deal with her, Yamada said, his voice shaking slightly. But you can't punish someone for something that they may do in the future.

Jeremy nodded. Perhaps. I've tried to keep my distance, because she will need to be dealt with if she turns. I fear that if we treat her like family, that will be difficult.

Reiko smiled weakly. Families are difficult.

***********

Halfway across the world, Kazuya Mishima was fighting, visceral rage propelling his fists and his feet forwards, connecting with his shadowy opponent with a satisfying crunch as bones yielded to his force. His opponent was on the floor now, and he brought his fist down on his head, again and again. He would drag the opponent into the light, into the truth, and he would see...

Kazuya, you are fighting against a bond which cannot be broken. I am your life now.

Kazuya snarled. He raised his fist. You lie.

There was a laugh, and Kazuya felt physically sick. It was like swallowing ice and razor blades, the voice that had been with him ever since that day...

Kazuya, I do not lie. You are as much a part of me as I am of you. If I lie to you, I lie to myself.

Suddenly, Kazuya's fist connected with the floor; his opponent had disappeared. He sprang up, looking around wildly.

Where are you? he shouted. Again, there was that laugh.

You know Kazuya. You know.

You're a liar! Kazuya yelled, standing his ground.

Then you lie to yourself.

For a moment, Kazuya saw movement in the shadows. Three eyes, forming a horrific triangle, gleamed scarlet in the darkness; the eyes he had seen so often over the past few months, were looking at him, glittering with malice.

He took an involuntary step back, and stumbled. Despite the threat in front of him, he glanced down over his shoulder at the prone form on the floor, bloodstained and battered, but just recognisable. He reeled, feeling nauseous.

No...it couldn't be-



Kazuya awoke, his sheets soaked in sweat, his body trembling. The adrenalin was coursing through his body, and the feeling of nausea that was evident in his dream was still very much with him. He took a glass of water from the bedside table, trying to hold it steady-

It fell to the floor and shattered. His reflection-

He laughed hysterically. His reflection in the mirror was normal, but for a brief moment he thought he had seen a red slit on his forehead closing...

His laughter turned to sobs as the full horror of the dream returned to him, another graphic reminder of what he had lost. He supposed it was a remnant of the guilt he felt; if he had done things differently, if Kira and Hana hadn't been in that car...

The guilt was nothing compared to the grief, however, and Kazuya didn't know how he could bear it. It had been his constant companion for what seemed like an eternity, and forced Kazuya to replay the last few moments he had shared with his family. Disturbingly, he could barely remember the week previous to their deaths; even more disturbingly, there was a part of him that felt disgusted with this maudlin display, that was impatient for him to simply get it over with.

His father, he knew, would have seen his grieving as a sign of weakness, something to be exploited. The revulsion Kazuya felt at that thought was tempered by another, buried deep down...

Your father was right.....

Kazuya lay back and closed his eyes.

he said into the night.