Now……………

Wang Jinrey went through his forms, trying to free his mind of the melancholy that ensnared him. Loss was a part of life, he told himself, yet it seemed that all the losses he experienced were…unfair. He had watched his best friend's son lose his innocence and grow into a spiteful, power-hungry adult. He had learnt that his best friend's death may have been caused by that same son. His best friend's grandson was slowly turning as rotten as his father had ever been, perhaps even worse – there was an unnatural coldness to Kazuya nowadays. However, given the loss he shared with Kazuya, perhaps that was understandable. Kira wasn't only his prize student, she was almost a surrogate daughter, but he knew that Kazuya felt her loss more keenly than he ever would. He had lost his lover and his child in one night, was it any wonder he was acting strangely?

Wang Jinrey felt his face contorted by a bitter smile. Why was an old fossil like him still alive when youngsters like Kira and little Hana dead?

"Can I talk to you?"

Wang's eyes snapped open. "Kazuya!" he said. "This is a surprise!"

"I've…been busy," Kazuya said in a slightly strained voice.

"Come in son, come in," he said. Kazuya sat a few feet away from him on the tatami.

"I wanted to ask about my grandfather," Kazuya said. The old man raised his eyebrows.

"Jinpachi? That's odd, I was just thinking about him."

Kazuya sat silently for a moment, trying to think how to phrase his questions. "You knew him well?"

Wang smiled. "He was my best friend…more like a brother, really."

Kazuya looked down. "Was he a good man?"

Wang opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again. How do you summon up a man's character in a few words? And why was Kazuya enquiring about the nature of his dead grandfather?

"Jinpachi…Jinpachi and I were friends since childhood. I can tell you that I couldn't have asked for a better friend. He was compassionate, and fiercely loyal. He loved you and your father dearly."

Kazuya nodded. This sounded like the grandfather he remembered. He saw Wang's questioning expression.

"I was wondering if a bloodline can be cursed."

Wang nodded. For a moment, Kazuya thought he saw a strange expression on the old man's face, but if he had, it quickly passed. Wang just looked like an old man full of regrets.

"I believe," the old man began slowly, "That each person has to make their own choices. There are events and situations that are forced upon us, whether we will them or not; ultimately, what defines a man is how he chooses to deal with them." He looked at Kazuya. "I miss them too, son-"

Kazuya stood up quickly, and gave the old man a respectful bow. "Thank you for you time, master. I must be going now."

Wang sighed as Kazuya left. He wanted to believe his own words, about free will and choice, but Kazuya's questions had made him recall the last conversation he had held with Jinpachi.

"The Mishima bloodline is cursed. It has to end."

Back Then……..

"Agh, that fucking hurts!"

"It's supposed to, me dear," Anna said, smiling, unlike Kira. However, Anna didn't have her arm twisted into an unnatural angle and a knee digging into the back of her neck, unlike Kira. She released her hold on the Englishwoman, who sighed audibly in relief.

"Y'have quite a way with words, Ms Williams," Anna grinned. "D'y'speak to your mother with that mouth?"

"Actually, yes," Kira said, sitting up. "And if you met my mother, you would too."

Anna nodded slightly. "Ah, the joys of family. Now, shall we try that again?"

"I suppose so," Kira said reluctantly. Anna's training was considerably more brutal than Wang Jinrey's; Kira may have had a way with words, but Anna had a way with pain. In a way, this was a good thing – the desire to avoid stitches, permanent scarring and broken bones was certainly an incentive for quick learning.

Anna lunged again, but this time Kira sidestepped her attack in the correct direction, driving Anna to the floor and pulling her arms into a complicated lock. Anna winced silently.

Kira loosened the lock slightly as the sound of clapping filled the dojo.

"And to think, usually I have to pay good money to see attractive ladies grappling each other."

Kira released Anna and stood up. "Mr Chao Lan," she said, and bowed politely.

"Please, call me Lee…. we're practically family now," he said lazily. Kira felt the overwhelming urge to unleash the full range of all she had learnt from both Wang and Anna on his smug face. Instead she nodded sardonically.

"Lee, then," she said. Anna stood up and brushed herself down.

"Are y'down here for a few lessons y'self, lover?"

Lee laughed lightly. "You know, I think I already know that the female of the species is the more deadly. He took Anna's hand in a chivalrous gesture and kissed it. "Lovely, but deadly."

Kira was torn between laughing and retching, but Anna seemed quite taken with Lee's attentions.

"Well, Anna, thank you for you lesson. I'll think I'll leave it there for today, while my bones are still intact."

She bowed to them both, and suppressed giggles and she heard Lee wax lyrical about Anna's great beauty.

As soon as she opened the door, she saw Kazuya leaning idly against his car. She had gotten used to this now; since the attack, Kazuya was reluctant to let her walk anywhere on her own, even within the supposedly secure compound.

"Good lesson?" he asked. Kira nodded.

"Apart from the nauseating pain, and your nauseating brother…"

"Ah, turning on the charm for Miss Williams, was he?"

"Charm? Is that what you call it? I swear, I nearly lose a lifetime of lunches every time your brother opens his mouth…"

Kazuya smiled lopsidedly as Kira gave an exaggerated shudder. "Not a fan of romance, then?"

Kira smirked as she climbed into the car. "Not when it gets so sickly it induces diabetes."

As Kazuya started the engine, he glanced over at her. "Well, what would you like to do tonight?"

Kira grinned mischievously. "Oh, I thought we could have a quiet night in."

Kazuya nodded with a smile. "That's fine by me."

Now………..

"C'mon, I didn't hurt you too bad?"

Marshall looked up at the hand that was being offered to him. Given the voice, he was fairly certain it was Paul, but he wasn't quite sure – a fabulous array of multicoloured blobs were working their way across his vision.

"Paul….what?" he asked shakily, stumbling to his feet with the help of his friend.

"It's over buddy. I won." He sounded almost apologetic, although there was a detectable note of satisfaction in his voice. As Marshall's vision cleared, he saw his friend wipe away a trickle of blood from his nose. "It was a good fight," Paul added.

He heaved Marshall to a seat, waving away the cameras. "Uh, are you okay buddy, because I think they want me to do interviews-"

Marshall winced, then managed a weak smile. "Go. Your adoring public awaits."

Paul grinned, gave his friend a slightly painful slap on the arm, and went into the mass of journalists and cameras with his arms raised. The later stages of the tournament always generated a media frenzy, which Paul loved. He wanted people to see him, to see him fight, and for them to acknowledge his greatness. It made Marshall worry for him sometimes – if he based his whole life around such things, how would he cope when his pride took a knock? Not well, Marshall knew.

Marshall leant back and smiled. His wife and son were waiting for him at home. The money he had won so far was more than enough to invest in his dream; a restaurant. Paul had laughed at the idea, but Paul didn't have the responsibilities he had. He needed a more stable source of income than that of a career fighter. He took out the photo of his family that he always carried, and found that he didn't regret giving up this life of bruises and broken bones at all.

Jun slammed the receiver down in frustration. Everyone she spoke to was polite, but ultimately unhelpful. She was stuck in a foreign country with no way out, because officially she wasn't there in the first place. She knew she was being followed, and she knew that all her communications were being monitored. A part of her told her to give up her efforts; it seemed that she was going nowhere unless Kazuya Mishima willed it. However, the stubborn part of her, the part of her that had pursued Kazuya, refused to give up, even after all these weeks of being practically imprisoned.

"Because that's what it is," she muttered to herself. "It might be luxurious, but it's still a prison."

Her hand rubbed her chest. The stress was making her feel tired and nauseous in addition to angry and frustrated. She took a gulp of water and wondered how her situation could get any worse.

Back Then…………

Kira felt her mouth become dry as she looked at the small blue cross that had appeared in the plastic window. She double-checked it against the packaging, not that there was any need – she knew what it meant. The only question now was what was she going to do?

Although she and Kazuya had only been together for a few months, she was certain that she loved him. However, she didn't know if this was what he wanted – she wasn't sure if it was what she wanted. She gave the packaging another pointless glance.

A blue cross.

Pregnant.

"I may regret asking this, but what are you doing in there?" Kazuya's bemused voice came from the other side of the bathroom door. "You've been in there for ages."

"Um, I'll be out in a minute," she said, her voice trembling. Kazuya frowned, then shrugged to himself – it was probably unwise to press the matter further.

Eventually Kira emerged from the bathroom. She sank onto the bed next to Kazuya.

"Are you unwell?" he asked, caressing her cheek. "You look paler than usual."

Kira opened her mouth to speak, but burst into tears instead. Kazuya started, clearly alarmed. He quickly regained his composure and embraced Kira.

"What on earth's the matter?" he asked. She sniffled incoherently in response, and handed him the pregnancy test.

He studied it from various angles, puzzled. "What is it?"

Kira laughed through her tears, making an odd burbling noise. "Idiot. It's a pregnancy testing kit."

"Oh. But why would you have one of these, unless-"

Kazuya's eyes widened as comprehension dawned.

"That's right," Kira sniffed. "I'm pregnant."

Kazuya looked at her belly, as if he suddenly expected it to swell up there and then. He stood up silently, and left the room.

Kira sat there, feeling numb. Was he really that angry? Slowly anger of her own began to seep through the numbness. It took two to tango!

She was about to stand when Kazuya walked back in with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. He sat down, popped the cork, and poured the champagne. He raised his glass.

"To family."

"Does this mean…?"

"It means I'm going to be a father," Kazuya said, smiling. "Let's hope I do a better job than my old man."

He pulled her into a tight embrace, stroking her hair. He couldn't describe what he was feeling – it seemed to be love, protectiveness, joy, trepidation and terror all at once, with an intensity he hadn't realised he was capable of. He released his grip, and brushed her hair back.

"If it's a boy-"

"She'll be a girl," Kira interrupted emphatically. Kazuya looked at her sceptically.

"How can you possibly know that?"

"A mother just knows," Kira grinned. "Wow…I'm going to be somebody's mother…"

"Well, if it's a girl, I think we should call her Dai," Kazuya said, pouring himself another glass. "I've always liked that name."

"It's a bit early to be thinking about names," Kira said incredulously. "Besides," she said after a brief pause, "Her name will be Hana."

"What's wrong with Dai?" Kazuya asked. Kira shrugged.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with it…I just prefer Hana." She handed Kazuya her champagne. "Here, you have this."

"Hana Mishima. Dai Mishima. Dai sounds better," Kazuya said.

"Well, I'm going to be the one that swells to the size of a blimp and will go through the agony of childbirth, and I say Hana sounds better," she responded.

"Yes, but I'm the one who's going to have to listen to you complaining about it for months on end, and I think Dai sounds better," Kazuya grinned. Kira scowled at him.

"Watch it Mishima," she said warningly. "I won't be responsible for my hormonal responses!"

He held up his hands in defeat. "Fine, fine….Hana it is then. I still say Dai sounds better…"