A/N: Oo-er. I don't know whether this lives up to anyone's expectations, but here it is, meh-heh. We're getting there, slowly but surely... Dr. Briefs Cat - As usual, some thoughtful insights into the fic for which I'm most grateful. :) I think I'll reply to your review point-by-point, if you don't mind. 1) I'll admit - Lee and Jun sleeping together was probably gratuitous frowns. What can I say - back then I was a rabid Lee fan (go fig, huh?). It's not to my liking and I would've changed it or expanded Jun's reasons somehow, but for the fact that I've kinda moved on from this fic now... / As for Lee's continuing role in the story - he will be appearing again, and I hope he lives up to your expectations. 2) The Jun/Kazuya fight. Yes. I think that year was the year I watched the Tekken anime. Shows, doesn't it? Another unsatisfactory section on my part, I'll admit. Looks like my imagination took a hike that day. 3) And yet anotherquery with the Michelle and her mother thing.Heh. I think, by that time, I was getting a little impatient to get to the end and rushed the thing. I had not, by this time, learnt discipline in writing. Assuming I've managed to by now. ;p 4) Both Nina and Anna are now in Dr. Bosconovitch's hands, being put in cryo-suspension. Their roles were going to be reprised in the sequel, of which I only wrote about 2 chapters... :( 5) There are another 4 or 5 chapters outside the Tournament, so watch this space! Once again, thanks for the reviews, they help me know what I need to work on, even though this is an old story. :)

Again, thanks for all the reviews EVERYONE has contributed, they're much appreciated, and please, keep 'em coming:)

-oOo-

: XVI : Forbidden Love

There had been no record of Kazuya ever having a summer residence in Kamakura, and so it took Jun a long while to locate his whereabouts. Two weeks of questioning the local residents had led her to a large, apparently deserted old-style Japanese house in the middle of an untamed, uninhabited forest. The house stood, large and lonely, in a small-sized glade, and though old and derelict for many years, it was a beautiful piece of architecture, in its hey-day being a magnificent work of art.

Jun walked up to the house, at first hesitant as she reached the raised platform, and stepped up to face the ancient wooden sliding doors. It was quiet, chillingly so. The sporadic rustle of the trees in the wind was the only source of noise about her. Jun stood, reluctant to speak for fear of her voice shattering the silent antiquity of the old house. After a moment gathering her courage, she opened her mouth.

"Hello? Kazuya?"

There was no answer and, seeing as the doors were slightly open, she pushed them slowly aside and walked through.

There was little lighting in the house – what light there was was provided by the sun itself, which was dull as dusk was drawing on. Something in the atmosphere stopped Jun from speaking, and as she wandered through the seemingly desolated house all she could hear was the sound of her footsteps treading along creaky floorboards. The rooms were sparsely furnished, and the walls, painted with traditional Japanese murals, looked fierce in the growing darkness. Another sliding door, this time closed, separated Jun from the smallest room in the building. With a sense of foreboding she pulled the door aside and walked into the room.

The bedroom, this place was: at the far end she caught the shadow of Kazuya behind a folding screen, the silhouette thrown out by the tawny flickering light of a nearby candle. She stopped, unsure of herself or whether this shadow was really Kazuya at all.

"So," came the familiar voice from behind the screen, "you came back."

Jun took in a short sigh of relief, and some of the fear slid away from her. Turning round, she pulled the door to again and dropped her bags to the floor.

"I told you I wouldn't leave you," she breathed.

There was a silence during which Kazuya appeared to be reflecting upon her statement. Then he stood up, his face and upper torso unfolding from behind the screen. He turned and stared at her wordlessly. After another silence he moved away from the screen and stopped in front of the candle, casting irregular and menacing shadows across the length of the room.

"How did you find me?" he finally asked.

"She told me," Jun replied slowly. "The Angel."

There was a sad look on Kazuya's face, one that surprised Jun because she'd never seen such an expression on him before. Then he sighed and sat down at the foot of a nearby mattress that had been laid out simply on the floor.

"Come here," he bade her in a quiet voice, thoughtful but gentle, not willful as it had always been before. Feeling perplexed but reassured, she walked over to him and sat down before him, silently assessing his countenance. He did not look at her but down at his feet for a long while, as if thinking what he should say. After what seemed like an eternity he looked up at her, into her eyes.

"What do you see," he began softly, "when you look at me now?"

Jun gazed at him, for the first time able see his true features. The dark eyes, tired yet soft, the mouth, strong and straight where once it had been contorted into something akin to ugliness. He was handsome, mysterious, enigmatic. The cruelty that had been so characteristic of his features before had seemingly disappeared. Jun reached out to touch his cheek as though to clarify that what she saw was real. This was him, the man that she felt something for.

"I see you," she murmured at last, dropping her hand, suddenly embarrassed that she had touched him so intimately. He smiled faintly at her in the dim light of the room.

"And how do I seem to you? Weak?"

"No." She shook her head. "Just tired. But not week."

He said nothing, as if to let her words sink in.

"My father always said I was weak," he spoke, forcing the words out with an effort. "So much that soon I felt it to true. But since I've come here I've been thinking that I was never really weak. I was just never what my father wanted me to be."

"Why are you telling me all this?" she asked, still not used to this more forthcoming Kazuya.

"You said you wanted to help me," he told her, the edge entering into his voice again.

"I do. But I don't need to know all this to help you," she replied, not knowing how or why that made sense, but it did. She felt as if she knew him – she had always felt that way.

"Then what do you need?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she admitted, puzzled in spite of herself.

There was a dead quiet again, during which the howl of the wind whistled in through the floorboards and about their knees. The darkness of the night had drawn in, and the trembling flame of the candle was now the only source of light in the room. Kazuya raised his head, his eyes searching the four walls, almost seeming to study the effect the dark and the wind had on the confines of his house. When he had finished this, his eyes returned to her face.

"I didn't think you'd come back," he told her, a speculative look in her eyes. "I didn't think you'd follow me."

"What did you think I'd do?" she replied, surprised at his confession.

"I thought you'd try to help Lee."

"Lee doesn't need my help."

"Not even after what I did to him?"

"No. Lee knew you would do what you did. He doesn't matter anymore."

"But you…and him…" He trailed off before beginning again. "It's strange, to speak to you like this. Now I feel so different."

"The Devil…Is it gone?" she queried, shivering little at the memory of it.

"Yes," he nodded. "For now. But I am afraid that it could return at any time. It still holds a part of me. It is that I can't forget." He took in a long breath, closed his eyes to calm the thoughts, then rose to his feet. "Now I must prepare for the time when it will come again to reclaim my soul. That is why I came here. To prepare."

He moved to the nearby window, pulled the shutters together.

"You must go now, Jun. You've helped me enough. I don't want you to get mixed up in this anymore."

Jun rose, placed a hand on his shoulder.

"No, I won't leave you." She smiled now at the simplicity of it all. "Don't you see, now I know how it is I can help you." He looked back at her, his gaze inquiring. "Let me stay with you tonight, Kazuya," she continued. "I want you to tell me. I want you to tell me how this all began."

He turned, his brow furrowed, his gaze penetrating.

"Why?"

"Because this is the way it has to be," she answered instinctively; then more softly: "Let me stay with you, Kazuya."

He stared at her wordlessly, in wonder. Then he touched her face gently with his fingers, his caress tender.

"Aren't you afraid?" he whispered.

"Of what? Of you? Of my feelings?" She shook her head. "No. It doesn't matter how or why this has happened. All that matters is that is."

He smiled. He could not recall the last time he'd felt like this.

"You're right," he murmured. "This, now – it's all that matters." He moved forwards, his lips touching hers, and for a moment they were both shocked at the unfamiliar taste of each other, as though they had crossed an unseen and dangerous line.

"Jun…" he began, his voice quizzical, offering her the choice was walking that treacherous path or not. She smiled up at him with reassurance, amazed that he should ask that question, even with his eyes. She tugged him towards her gently with both hands, and answered him with her kiss.

-oOo-

It was later, cooler and darker. The old house, its timeworn quality was desolate, personal; it held you in its own security, its safety, its privacy. The house had kept its past secrets and would keep theirs. The world outside was irrelevant. It would never know.

She felt love now, deep inside her. For the man beside her, for the man she had pledged to save. She had changed. Now, in the draughty little room lit by the waning candle, she felt and secure, young and yet old, wise and yet foolish. She felt balanced. She felt as if her life was now complete.

"So," she began softly, trying not to break the quiet, "tell me how it happened. How it all began."

"I can't remember when it began," he confessed, looking up at the ceiling. "Maybe it began the moment I was born."

"I don't believe it," she murmured in reply.

"It feels as if it began that long ago," he answered despondently. "For as long as I can remember it's been like this."

"How can that be so?" she queried.

"My father never cared about me. It was only the conglomerate he cared about. My mother was the only one who cared. She died when I was ten." He stopped, his expression one of bitterness.

"And because you missed her, your father got it into his head that you were weak," Jun finished for him on a breath.

"More than that, I began to believe it myself," he replied.

"Heihachi twisted feelings that were only natural," Jun told him. "And that was the beginning, the start of it all?"

"Yes," he nodded regretfully. "And instead of showing me how to conquer my 'weaknesses', he replaced me with a strong son." His voice was suddenly hard. "Lee."

"And then the jealousy began," she stated half to herself.

"We competed for everything," Kazuya carried on. "And of course, Lee always got his way. Father lavished what affection he had on Lee. And all the while I became weaker."

I gust of wind interrupted his words, and he stopped, listening to the violent wailing, a dreamy expression on his face. Then he continued, his hand gently stroking her hair.

"It would have come to an end then, when Heihachi threw me from the cliff. He told me that the weak did not belong in the Mishima family, that the weak must die. I wish I had. It would have stopped all this from happening."

Jun said nothing. The horror of what Heihachi had done to his son did not surprise her. His lust for power knew no bounds, slowly turning him insane. He had even been willing to sacrifice his son for it.

"But I lived," Kazuya said with a sigh. "And I climbed that cliff, back to the top. In a way, I was proving my strength by doing so, that I was not weak. But I was dying, I knew that. I was losing blood. I still have the scar." He showed it to her, the long, thin wound on his chest. "And as I lay there dying, it came to me. It offered me life, strength, power. All I wanted then was revenge. How could I refuse?" There was a pause and Jun ran her finger slowly over the meandering length of the scar. He watched her movement closely, then spoke again. "It was easy really. I was so full of hate for Heihachi that I was blinded to everything else. The Devil fed off that hate. In the first Tekken tournament I thought I had killed Heihachi and gained power over the Mishima conglomerate. I thought I had all that had been promised to me. But the Devil needed more from me. He needed my soul. And I couldn't break free. Until you came."

"Me?"

"There was always a part of me that knew that what I was doing was wrong," he replied, rolling over to face her. "But it was a part of me that could find no expression until I saw you. Until they chose you."

"I still don't understand what they chose me for," she said, frowning.

"Neither do I," he admitted. "Why do they need you to help me? Surely it was my own choice whether to bring out the Devil or the Angel in me? Why chose someone who could break me free from both?"

"Is this the real Kazuya then?" she spoke in wonder.

"Is it?" His voice was self-deprecating. "I'm not sure what the real me is anymore. But yes – I feel more human than the way I was before, at the very least."

She reached out for him, drew her arms about him and held him close.

"It was all Heihachi's fault," she whispered. "He's insane. He has to be stopped." She tilted her chin to look at him. "I love you, Kazuya. I don't know how or why, I just do. I hardly know you, and yet I feel I've always known you. I don't understand it but it's there. I need you as much as you need me."

"Then," he returned thoughtfully, "I don't care about Heihachi anymore. He can have all the power and strength he wants. He won't need to worry about me any longer."

"Truthfully?"

"I can try to let go of the hate." He noted the troubled look on her face, and with a tenderness that surprised even him he kissed the downturn of her lips. "Jun," he breathed lightly, "thank you. For staying. It means more than I can say. Promise me you will not leave."

Her smile was wan, pale in the moonlight.

"I promise," she murmured. "I promised it a long time ago."

Nothing more was said, nothing more needed to be said; but as the candle finally burnt itself out, they came to one each other again, and loved one another like that.

-oOo-

Next: The Devil finally makes its real intentions known to Jun...