He woke up with a start. This mansion, this giant captivity, this cold paradise, this hell. Each day he grew to love and to hate it. It brought him no joy and yet gave him pleasure. He sat up in his large bed and looked at the deep purple sleeping gown, the large soft bed, the beautiful silk sheets, the velvet night outside and the moon that shone like a divine carol of flames. It was beautiful, it was comfortable. Yet he felt no liking for it. He couldn't. His heart was cold. It felt nothing.
Intoxicated, he stood up and strolled to the window. The ebony night greeted him with the same cold desire, as he had lived with all his life.
He was cold blooded. Arrogant. Strong. Brave. Power hungry—and yet still a scared little boy crying as he was when his father was about to throw him off a cliff. Around 20 years had passed by and nothing had changed. He was still that little crying boy, scared at being thrown off in an abyss. Only now he was a man, with Devil possessing his wretched soul, soon to be cast off again in an abyss—in hell. It was the same…
"I am going to die…and disappear," he whispered as he stood by the window breathing his sorrow into nothing but the blackness of the night and the stillness of the room. He felt lonely, but that was all his life. This is what life had offered him. Scars. Pain. Rage. Loneliness. Hatred. Devil. Greed…and long sleepless nights.
Tugging his purple gown, he let his gown fall down slightly revealing the dreaded scar that trenched across his chest. He felt it and looked into the night. He walked up to the large fire that warmed his room. Gazing into it he saw nothing but screams and tears and cries. That was his life. All about suffering and that is how he repaid it…by making others suffer. He saw the faces of all he had made suffer. He saw his father menacing as ever. He saw the old Doctor Boskovich whom he had kidnapped struggling to cure his daughter and himself. He saw Michelle, the Red Indian girl he had clobbered in the first Tekken tournament—how she hated him for defeating her. He saw Devil, cruel and harsh burning inside him like a purple inferno. He saw all those whose death he had caused since his reign over the Zaibatsu. They all swirled around him, all those he had sent to hell, all waiting for him to come down there too.
"Hurry and come down to hell, Kazuya! We're waiting for you!"
All the images of these people swiveled around and merged and congealed. They spun around him, chanting and cursing, screaming and laughing—waiting for his untimely demise. Waiting for his fall to hell. Maddened, he attacked the images, punching and shoving at them but they faded away, laughing hysterically at this reluctant prince of hell.
"Shut up all of you!" he screamed back in pain, his scar burning.
Slowly they all disappeared, their supernatural laughter becoming distant yet sinister.
"You fool…"
He stood there in silence for a long time, musing.
He was Kazuya Mishima, the dark prince, the ruler from the shadows, the Devil. And yet…this was all so far away from who or what he really was. Everything within him and around him seemed nothing but an illusion, perhaps hiding something even more sinister and evil. Who knows? Who ever knew?
Lightening flashed and the wind was mercilessly lashing at the dark cliff held prominent in the dark night and the flashes of lightening. On top stood a man in a dark gi, his body covered in deeps bloody trenches, his face a crimson mask. His mind was full of rage, of vengeance and violence. Yes, that man would pay. His son would pay for throwing him off the cliff.
"Kazuya! You son of a bitch!"
It was Heihachi…and he was pissed.
Japan-2 years laterHeihachi lay exhausted on the ground, the sunlight somewhat soothing his wounds. He lay motionless on the ground, still panting from his laborious training. His mind though was oblivious to the pain; all he was thinking was to get what was his back, back from that son of his. Slowly he stood up, the electricity type ki of his making sparking sounds as the sunlight danced off his demonic face. He will take back what is his.
As he thought this a large bear walked up to him. It was Kuma. Kazuya, knowing its love for Heihachi, had kicked Kuma out of the Zaibatsu compound as well. Having nowhere else to go and feeling its master's presence, Kuma rejoined Heihachi. He walked up to his master and licked his hands. With the bear at his side, Heihachi had decided to go on a harsh, inhuman training to ready himself for a fight with Kazuya—and make sure it would be the final fight with his son.
Already the dark clouds of vengeance brew in the night, with none but God knowing what lay ahead.
The Zaibatsu Compound—A few weeks later
Kazuya stood alone in the basement of the Zaibatsu. He was donning his white gi pants and the red gloves, his hair spiked back in his usual way. The black belt hung limply near his abdomen, his eyes staring ahead of him as if at an opponent.
He looked at his American bodyguard, who had brought him the news of his father being alive.
"So that old bastard is alive…"
"Yes sir."
Without saying anything Kazuya got into his fighting stance.
Ya!
Ka!
Ka!
Seeyah!
He was training alone with only the tall statues witnessing his intense and brutal training routine. He executed all the moves of the intense Mishima-ryu he had mastered as a mere child, a feet worthy of even a demon's approval. He had honed them to perfection during his rigorous training for his fight with his father, mastering all the signature moves and learning some of his own. With sweat trickling down his face he shot forward, his eyes narrowed and focused.
Rising sun.
Rising uppercut.
Dragon uppercut.
Abolishing Fist.
Twin pistons.
Spinning Demon.
Lighting uppercut.
With sweat dripping down his intense face, his black eyes merciless, he stood still, huge bolts of electricity emanating from his body. He stood there in that position for a long time, the electricity glowing brightly. The few guards in the basement ran for cover, leaving Kazuya utterly alone. But he was used to it. It was like a shadow now.
Channeling his power into his fist he spun. Once. Twice. And with the third spin jumped upwards like a rising god.
"Lighting screw uppercut!"
The electricity loaded fist collided with one of the statues and in an instant it exploded with the enormous power, shattering away, the few pieces of the statues clanking on the hard, wooden floor. Kazuya stood with his eyes closed, pondering.
"Heihachi! I will destroy you…then and only then I can rest…"
The timid guards materialized from behind boxes, pillars and doors. They looked in awe as the lone Kazuya stood in the midst of the fallen debris, his powerful arms crossed, staring away in the darkness. Slowly a bittersweet smile crept at his mouth—he had a plan.
The Tekken 2 tournament—a tournament to finish it all, once and for all.
Japan, Osaka
The large office was too large for a single man. Yet it defined the need for grace that every person of high standard needs. She shook her head. Now wasn't the time to think of such things. The man in front of her bore a powerful expression. Her boss. He sat with a large letter in front of him with the Zaibatsu insignia on it, and a few videotapes. She didn't know what was going on but her intuition told her that something was going to happen that would change her life.
"Kazama Jun, you know of the animal testing that has been going on, don't you?" the boss asked in a deep, almost metallic voice.
"Yes, sir, I am aware of it," she replied still struggling to keep her anxiety from being obvious.
"We the WWWC have gotten a lead on it finally. A few of our agents have gotten some leads to it but they all disappeared."
"Disappeared?"
"Yes, vanished. No one knows where they went. It's like they have dropped off the face of the planet. Obviously the man behind their disappearance is also the man behind the animal disappearance. We have, however, received a few tapes from those people. It seems they managed to send them just in time. Here…I want you to have a look."
He inserted one of them into a VHS player and soon enough Jun saw bloody experiments carried out on various animals, like rabbits, rats and even some endangered species. To her surprise she even saw what was a Raptor, something that should have been extinct millions of years ago. She saw their suffering, the gore and their screams and slowly she felt her breath becoming shaky and suffocated. She felt a stinging pain behind her eyes and tried hard to hold back the tears.
"Who is doing all this?" she asked suddenly, trying to divert her attention.
"This man…or so it seems," he said inserting another videotape inside the player. Jun was looking away from the screen, still trying to suffocate those tears when the boss put in the tape. After a few deep breaths she looked up and saw a man dressed in a purple suit, with spiky hair and eerie red eyes glowing like a demon. His staunch built and steel gaze instilled a pang of fear in her. More pictures of his came but while some were intimidating and fearsome, others showed him as a normal guy down the road. With each passing picture he seemed to be alternating between a despotic tyrant and a lovesick artist. One particularly caught her attention in which he was sitting alone in the large Zaibatsu head chair, looking away in silence, his eyes normal now. She could see something strange about his face and that expression in his eyes. It was lost, almost hopeless like of a man who has given up on everything and lets the river and the wind have their way with him. She could see that insatiable silence in him and his black eyes stared forward in a mix of spite, yearn, disgust, hopelessness, pity and disdain—as if laughing at the absurdity of everything, but more so at himself and his fate.
"Who is he?" she whispered to her boss, still looking up at the enigmatic man whom she couldn't take her eyes off.
"Mishima Kazuya…the leader of the Mishima Zaibatsu and organizer of the upcoming Tekken 2 tournament. Not only is he rumored to be behind all this he is also a feared fighter and…he is supposedly possessed."
"Possessed?"
"Yes…by some Akuma or Oni or…something. Load of bull if you ask me."
He shook his head slightly, stuffing a thin cigar in his mouth that he nonchalantly puffed away as he stared ahead of him, in deep thought. The silence in the room lingered as her boss sat motionless, staring away. The rousing himself up from his deep thought he looked at Jun and threw the letter towards her.
"What's this?"
"That there is an invitation letter we were able to get. It's for the Tekken 2 tournament and knowing your caliber as a fighter we want you to enter. You orders are to compete in the tournament but only so that you can investigate this Kazuya guy. But to let you know what you'll be dealing with…" he trailed off and inserted another VHS, "…I'll give you a brief history of all the fighters entering."
That 'brief history' ended up taking half an hour and by the time it was over, Jun just wanted to go home. Or maybe even resign. Or maybe take up teaching in one of the local schools in her village.
"Your flight is today at 8:00 p.m. to the Mishima compounding on their island," her boss had said, "don't be late. Now leave."
Jun walked away from the WWWC headquarters slightly dazed. What was going on? One minute she was a simple woman working in the WWWC to save animals and the next minute she is off entering a tournament where she could wind up getting herself killed, considering all the freaks of nature her boss showed her. And not just that…she would have to investigate that man, Kazuya Mishima.
"K-Kazuya…Mishima…" Jun whispered to herself getting lost in her own thoughts, at a loss of words to describe the man she had just seen.