When Lightning Strikes Twice

Part 5

Blissful Dysfunction

Akira leaned on the counter, starring into the distance. Today she worked under the watchful eye of Aristos with his daughter. Cassie at that moment was shuffling softdrink bottles from the back to the fridge. Business always ebbed around 1 o'clock and she had a lecture on the liver at three. She would only have a few minutes to race home, change and catch the bus to the St Lucia campus.

She smiled dreamily at the word. Home, she mused.

Life was perfect. She had never knew anyone's life anywhere could be perfect but it seemed she had found it. University was challenging but she ate up her lectures hungrily, she had a goal and she was inching closer. After so long she could now challenge Jin in sparring and she took enormous pride in what she had achieved in three short years and work was monotonous so she could just drift away.

It was enough to make you believe in karma again.

And she had Jin to thank for it.

He gave her shelter, he paid for her education, he gave her back her self esteem. She had fought against his help, insisting she didn't need it when inside she wanted to do something stupidly meaningful, like when a child scrawls a Mothers Day card and uses too much glitter.

When she introduced him to her friends they had inquired just what was their relationship, oogling him like they were undressing him with their eyes. The question was there to determine just how available he was, which was embarrassing. She had said flippantly, "Lyn? Cousin's friend from Japan. He was living down here and knew I was looking for a place to stay."

The lie was there for a reason. Instead of older sibling she had written down on the many documents, having him as a relative could prove embarrassing later on.

The reason was that there was no denying he was a looker, and it was painfully clear when the two sparred. Sometimes as she sat on the dojo floor with scientific journals sprawled around her she would look up and watch Jin train, his well developed muscles rippling with each smooth, graceful kata movement, the thin strands that would hang roguishly in front of his face that had a look of serenity as he gazed into the distance.

Luckily she had two things going for her, one was that she was a brilliant actor and two, had full brain function.

If he paused between kata and offer a vaguely anxious smile, her heart would melt and skin tingle, she would only snort and roll her eyes, with a smart alec comment.

Her face, although fine featured was a little too round and the nose was kind of crooked from a bout that got too enthusiastic. She was bony, and her hair, no matter how much care took to look nice, would still be lank and lifeless.

And her skin was too dark. She knew the colour of her skin meant nothing to Australians, they thought a tan was healthy, the idiots. But Jin was Japanese, white skin was a sign of purity. That was why her mother had been an outcast, and her father had married her because he was pressured by their grandparents once they found out he had slept with her. He always said he looked just like her. Her skin was too dark.

He had no interest in her except perhaps as the sister she had pretended to be.

She convinced herself it was just a teenage crush on a bloke who had been so good to her.

Even then she could neve decide he was being so wonderful simply because she knew his secret.

That night had faded in her mind, something was acting on her memories leaving a lead heavy dread in the pit of her stomach whenever she thought about it. Only when she put her mind to it could she remember what the secret was, and to be honest she never did. It was better to remember it as vivid imagination.

Still, it was depressing to think he could be acting too.

But could anyone be that brilliant?

She hoped not.

Fifteen minutes later, Jin sat down at a desk. Both he and Akira used the computer but Akira had no patience with it. Only for assignments would grumbling sit down to use its word programs and internet for research.

Unplugging the simple American keyboard he reached down into the bottom draw and found an expensive keyboard with Japanese characters. He bought it partly to keep Akira from prying too far and partly to gain the information from his agents located in various parts of the Mishima household staff. He needn't worry about the expenses, it all came from Heihatchi's business account and he knew the old man wouldn't miss a cent of it. He was intent on finding his grandson, not to apologise or beg forgiveness, but to dissect him and find the secret of the Devil gene so that he could splice Ogre's DNA with his own.

He typed in a dozen passwords, scanned through every folder for bugs or viruses and once he was positive he was secure, he checked his emails. After five minutes of filtering, he received two small emails. The first was a reply from The Kitten with the Beautiful Eyes.

He smiled with a sad longing for her bright smile and aerobatic antics. After an email from his agents, he learnt of a plot of which the effervescent Xiaoyu's life was the focus. After much searching, he found her email address and sent her a carefully worded latter, warning her.

He quickly skimmed through the email. It was thankful and heartfelt, even somewhat personal. He smiled softly. She knew, or at least suspected it was him. He wished he could reply and tell her he was fine, but she had she avoided the threat and the Mishima personal army would be suspicious of the elusion of their carefully manipulated plan. Not wanting to delete the message, he coded it and hid it in a secure folder.

The second email was from one of his most highly placed agents, one privy to some of Heihatchi's deepest darkest plans. Again he filtered the email, when he was safe, he opened it. There was nothing written in the text box, which was unusual as Tecuma was always gave a detailed report, meticulous to the finest detail. This one only held an attachment. He double clicked the icon and gasped.

It was a large, blurred and one could barely make out the Japanese scrawling, but nothing else but the poorly scanned picture existed in his mind.

A flyer.

On it was the brightly coloured logo of the World Iron Fist Tournament IV. Jin studied the logo with disbelief. Sure, previous messages had certainly entertained the idea since Heihatchi's discovery of the charred body of his father, Kazuya, but now that the tournament was imminent, it sent his mind reeling with possibilities, with half devised plans, with hope.

Jin magnified and sharpened the image. In Japanese characters below a rather airbrushed picture of Heihatchi's face was a Date, a Location, a Prize.

Three weeks from now, Honmaru Island, and the Mishima Empire.

In less then a week, the strongest fighters of every style, race and nation would be using every means possible to get to Honmaru Island, the home of Heihatchi, the home of the Iron Fist Tournament.

Jin stood up abruptly, ignoring the still open files. This was too much! He had spent too much time training Akira rather then himself. Other then learning traditional Karate and beating out every shred of Mishima in him, he was unprepared. He was still in shape but was he good enough for the tournament? He glanced at the flyer again.

The martial artists of the world would decide.

He shut down all the programs with little heed to security and strode out of the room, planning and divining a way to get inside the tournament without being recognised straight away. All his clothing had hoods, maybe he could use them as a disguise. He had the money for a flight that could be there within hours……

He would do it. He had to pack. Clothing, food, for he certainly wasn't eating anything that was served in Heihatchi's household, and money, well, he needn't worry about that. He could be reunited with Xiaoyu, to hear her voice, touch her skin…

"Gah! Late! Late! Late!" Akira blew past in a whirlwind of motion. She scurried up the wooden beams, that still wove between the supporting beams, snatched her schoolbag from her loft and scurried back down in a matter of seconds. Leaping down from the last spar, she landed at his feet and stood up straight.

"Wasup? You look like a thundercloud, all rumble, rumble, brood, brood?" The young girl flashed a dazzling smile.

Jin froze, unsure of what to do of say. Finally he managed, "You'll be late."

With a groan, Akira nodded and bolted out the door, her perpetually scruffy hair streaming behind her.

Jin's eyes followed her out the door and when she ran out of sight, he murmured sadly. "Akira……."

Later that evening he and Akira sat down to a dinner of rice, fish and various side dishes within the comfort of Jin's living room. The small, cosily lit room did little to calm his nerves. His thoughts raced, as he knew a decision had to be made soon, and only pushed the food moodily around his plate. Somehow he couldn't meet her eyes.

Akira, kneeling opposite him on the other hand, was perfectly at ease. She ate her food slowly, savouring its taste but still held the fork so that it could be used as a weapon, and her other hand cupped around the bowl so it was thoroughly guarded. Old habits die hard, she often laughed. With her focus squarely on her food, she didn't notice any of his uncomfortableness.

"Done!" she chirped happily. She was in an unusually good mood. As he stood to clear the table, she waved him to sit down again.

"I think I've had the perfect day! Aristos left me in charge of the register. It's so easy! They left and I tended the customers. None of them were any trouble. The lecturer was late so I didn't miss anything. I passed that stupid assignment, y'know the dodgy one I didn't understand? Only by the skin of my teeth but I did it! So me and Cass hooked it and hung around the shops. Of course Cass drooled over every clothing store but a new sports shop opened. Man! They have everything, from bags to mats to katana's to gi's! Oh there was this awesome gi too!"

As she chattered incoherently, she washed, dried and put away the cooking and eating utensils. After hanging up the frypan, she knelt opposite him.

"So what's got your knickers in a knot, Jinnyboy? I know I'm not the princess of pep but something's up."

"Oh nothing," he reassured, though silently rebuking himself. "Just reflecting on life and the winds that have blown to me."

"You're too philosophical," she said, slipping back into her usual dry humour. "But I'm not going to let that spoil it. Man, I even feel like sparing. Gowan! Give me a task, betcha I can do it!"

Your not making this any easier on me, Kira, he thought dolefully, but forced a smile and said, "Ok, Ki new exercise. Go outside, forget the formalities tonight, just start warming up and stretch well, you going to need it. Get your joey off the rack too."

She bowed with a cocky grin.

"Korusan Sensei," she piped and walked as quickly as good manners and dojo etiquette would allow. Once she was out of sight, he rested his elbows on the table and held his head in his hands. How could the decision have become so complicated? He mulled various solutions over and over, but came to no definite outcome. Time past and he realised Akira would be almost done with her warmup and starting on stretches, he had best get to it because if he actually went through with it, it would take a lot more then simple teachings.

He punched through his pushups, situps and various other exercises far more efficiently then Akira's slow pace and was almost through his own stretches once his student was standing over him, her joey behind her as etiquette dictated. The look on her face suggested keen desire to either get started or put weighs on his back to make it harder for him.

He stood up and looked her over. Her expression was set in a determined frown, her hand clenched around her weapon, the same stick that had almost killed him three years ago. It was sanded down and cut to a precise length a joey should be and had a scrap of blue material tied to one end, which Akira also used for good measure.

"First, rest your bow on the far wall of the dojo." He waited until she was done and continued on. "Your challenge is this, say your walking through the park, its dark-"

"Why am I walking through the park at dark?" she asked sweetly, though one could tell she was mocking him.

"Because it's a beautiful night," he answered patiently at one of her old games. "You hear a rustling in the bushes."

"Is it a possum?"

"No. You turn just in time to see a large man charge at you-"

"Why's he charging at me?"

"He wants your purse-"

"I don't have a purse."

"Then he's trying to rape you."

"Me?"

"Yes! You have to escape the lock, run, find a weapon, your joey, and defeat him, understand?"

"Yes Sensei," she answered with a sly smile and when he thought she could finally hold her tongue, she snorted, "You know you could have just said get out of a lock and beat your too a pulp. You really don't need to paint a picture." She waved her hand insolently and turned her back. "You and your senari-ohhh!"

Jin lunged forward and grabbed her round the middle, pinning her arms to her body and lifting her feet off the ground.

"Go!" he whispered into her ear.

"NOT FAIR!"

Aww, once again Ice Phoenix, my cheeks are aglow. Your praise is so welcome, and if you're looking for quicker updates, Akira has her own site (have I mentioned this? www. Just remove the spaces and no worries. I've actually written out about nine chapters, but don't post here often.

It should also be noted, that Thai's are very appearance orientated. My friend Suma who went back to Thailand last year told me of a woman, even showed me a picture. I thought she was very beautiful by western standards, but apparently people shun her for her darks skin. Thought I'd go for realism. Ha. Realism.

Hooroo, till next time! All reviews and reviewers thus far are appreciated!