Chapter 15
Back then…
"So, I hear y'met my sister?"
Kira jumped at Anna's voice. She had been absorbed in her work, and hadn't heard the other woman enter the room. Chances are, Kira thought, That I wouldn't have heard her even if I was paying attention.
"Sorry, I didn't mean t'startle you," Anna said with a smile. Kira shrugged.
"Well, you're not trying to knife me in the ribs, so I'll let it pass," Kira said with a smile and a shrug. Anna laughed.
"Yes, Nina never was one much for talk," she said. She gave Kira an evaluative glance. "I've got to admit, I'm surprised you managed to fight her off. For all her faults, my sister is exceptionally good at what she does."
"I've been learning from Wang Jinrey," Kira said. Now the initial shock of being attacked had died off, she was getting a little sick of people telling her how surprised they were that she had bettered the assassin, even though they had every right to be. "What can I say?" she continued. "I'm a natural."
She had expected Anna to laugh in that slightly condescending fashion of hers, but instead she nodded. "That you are. I heard about what you did t'Lee-"
"Really," Kira grinned, despite herself. "What did he say?"
Anna laughed. "Oh, Lee said he injured himself skiing. I got the true story from Kazuya, it amused him for weeks."
Anna sat on Kira's desk, examining a coffee stained mug. "Never underestimate yourself. Y'may lack the experience-"
She idly dropped the mug. Kira caught it before it hit the floor.
"-But y'have the reactions," Anna smiled.
Kira placed the mug on the table, unsure of what to say. Anna stood up again.
"Kazuya wants me t'train you in addition to the old man," she said with a smile. The smile turned to a grin. "Bring painkillers."
Later in the dojo, Kira waited for Anna with increasing curiosity, wondering how the Irish woman would differ from Wang Jinrey.
"Hello again," Anna said as she walked through the door, looking a stunning in her black sportswear as she did in every other outfit, and carrying a large holdall. She unzipped the bag and began removing a startling array of weaponry.
"Woah," Kira said. "It's like a one-stop assassin shop."
"Everythin' a girl could ever hope for!" Anna grinned. She threw Kira an unpleasant looking army knife with a serrated edge. "Right, shall we begin?"
Now…Kazuya stared out of the window, looking at blanket of lights that lay across the city. He rubbed his brow in a vain attempt to ease the throbbing in his temples. Increasingly he seemed to be a stranger to himself; he found it difficult to remember certain emotions, never mind feel them. Sometimes he could look at a photo of Kira and Hana and feel…nothing. And despite the fact he knew that it was what the evil within him wanted, he began to welcome it, the emotional deadness. It occurred to him that the only thing he could rely on was the evil presence that saved him from certain death as a child. It had used him, he knew that…but hadn't he used it too? To survive?
He had never had his father's love. His 'brother' would betray him in a second if it meant his own advancement in the Zaibatsu. The woman he loved and his child…both dead. At the end of it all, all he had left was his own darkness.
He couldn't remember leaving the building. He couldn't remember driving to that familiar ravine. He only really realised where he was when a familiar voice sounded in his ear, in a dry but affectionate tone.
"Did we get lost?"
"Kira!"
He turned quickly, and found his hope changing to disappointment, then anger, at the sight of Jun Kazama.
"I'm sorry," she said. Her voice trembled slightly, and it seemed that she would collapse at any moment.
"What on earth's wrong with you, woman?" Kazuya snapped. A part of him vaguely realised that his voice sounded…harsh. Unnatural. For no real reason, his hand travelled to his forehead, and he realised that what he had kept hidden for most of his life was now forcing its way through, finally deciding to claim its half of the bargain he had made as a child. The part of him that still had a shred of humanity left looked at Jun.
"Run," he said.
"No," Jun answered, her voice steadier now. "I won't leave you this…thing! You won't have to face it alone!"
"Alone!" he answered his voice harsh once more. "I am never alone."
Jun wasn't sure what she was doing. She wasn't sure if her actions were her own, or whether she was being compelled by some other force, be it good or evil. As she raised her hand to Kazuya's cheek, the vestiges of the demon within him abated, and she pulled him into a kiss. He looked momentarily surprised, before pulling them both down to the ground.
Jun awoke the next day, feeling groggy after a fitful sleep. As she looked around at the strange room, she was aware of a churning in her stomach, and suddenly remembered the previous night's events.
What did I do? she wondered, horrified at her actions. She was supposed to be stopping the Mishima Zaibatsu from committing crimes against nature. She was supposed to be stopping Kazuya from turning to evil.
At no point was she supposed to be…seduced by Kazuya. Her horror grew as her memories became clearer – she knew what possessed him, but what had possessed her? She had kissed him…and he had acted on that. And she had loved every second of it. Her cheeks burnt as she felt sick with shame. He hadn't even seduced her, he'd just told her to go away several times…
Then she remembered the eyes…all three of them. At the sight of them she had felt pity, fear…but no revulsion. As he uttered the name of his dead love, she had seen humanity in them. Was that why she did it? To try and show him that there was still love and affection in the world?
She shook her head. She didn't know why she did what she did, she only knew that it felt right at the time.
After dressing – all of her luggage from her previous room had been transferred by people unknown – she looked out of the window. Everything seemed different somehow. Initially she put it down to her lack of familiarity with various areas of the city…but then she noticed that the cars were driving on the wrong side of the road. She scrambled to the bedside table, looking at the room service menu…which was in English. She turned it over slowly.
Pan Pacific Hotel
San FransiscoHer jaw dropped. How…?
She saw a note on the table, which had been previously hidden by the menu.
Jun,
I appreciate your concern, but you cannot help me.
Kazuya Mishima
She fell back onto the bed with a groan. How could she have let this happen?
She tried to collect her thoughts, but it was difficult – there were so many of them, and her mind was groggy. How had she ended up on another continent?
She'd obviously been drugged. With Kazuya's cash and contacts, it would have been a simple matter to get her out of the way, without being concerned by the petty bureaucracy of immigration and border control. She doubted that her passport would be amongst her belongings, given how much trouble he'd gone to get rid of her. She pursed her lips; how would she get back? She would have to go the Japanese Embassy, she supposed – but wasn't that in New York, or Washington?
She sighed heavily, and began trying to formulate a plan to get herself out of the mess she had landed herself in.
"The Kazama woman has been dealt with as you instructed, sir," the voice crackled at the end of the line. Kazuya nodded.
"Good. Keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't get into any trouble."
"Yes, sir."
Kazuya ended the call and threw the phone across his desk. Now that the Kazama woman was gone, he could focus fully on the task at hand – winning the tournament and finally destroying his father.
He checked the results so far; his next bout would be against the victor of the Paul Phoenix/Marshall Law fight. It didn't really concern him who won; he was certain that he could defeat either of them with comparative ease.
His eyes glanced across his office, and his thoughts wondered to the events that had taken place a few nights ago. The Kazama woman's actions had puzzled him; her interest in him hadn't seemed to extend to physical attraction, yet they had lain together in this very office. A part of him burned with guilt as he wondered what Kira would have made of it all, but he reminded himself that Kira was dead, and in no position to pass judgement.
You cling to the past. We must look to the future.
Kazuya poured himself another scotch, determined to ignore the voice.
Ignore me if you will, I'll always be here. I've always been here.
"Not always," Kazuya muttered, remembering when he had been very young…when he had been clean. He remembered his mother's voice calling for him to come in when it started to get dark. He remembered his grandfather teaching him how to punch properly.
Really Kazuya, you're far softer than people give you credit for, the voice mocked. You put up the pretence of bitterly resisting me, yet here I am. And still, you do not understand.
Kazuya downed his drink and refilled his glass.
If it hadn't been me, it would have been another. Your blood calls to us. It is the blood of your grandfather.
Kazuya frowned. His grandfather had been a kind man, Kazuya remembered that much. It had broken his heart as a child to learn of his grandfather's death; he remembered the beating his father had given him for his tears. As he grew older, he heard rumours within the zaibatsu that Heihachi had killed his own father, which had further added to his rage.
What was this devil implying?
