Mishima Zaibatsu-1 day before the tournament
Jun stood in awe at the massive mansion that seemed to spread for as far as she could see. The Mishima Zaibatsu. It lay in the bosom of a deep forest on a secluded island somewhere in Japan. She stood amazed at the massive mansion, while some other fighters, the ones who were there before in the previous Tekken tournament, seemed indifferent. Amongst them was the one who radiated the most evil aura she had ever felt. She turned her head to see in his direction. He stood in a dark grey gi, a red belt keeping it in place, his bulging arms and hands were wrapped in white bandages, folded at his chest as he stood looking up where the host should be…but it was his face that stirred the awe she felt. Hard, cold, merciless. Feeling her gaze, he turned his cold eyes and looked at her as if she were an insect. She could feel the rage and vengeance burning in his soul and heart. With a scoff he turned and continued staring where the host was supposed to come, unblinking, unflinching.
"Where is the host?" Lei Wullong asked her finally. Jun rolled her eyes.
Lei Wullong, the Hong Kong cop who had (unfortunately) accompanied her in her journey. Much to her annoyance, he was a pesky and rather nosy and a tad to comfy and that annoyed her being the sensitive, quiet woman that she was. He was here looking for his friend and partner, Bruce Irwin, who was supposedly missing. Jun didn't look at him, but answered, herself pretty anxious.
"Have patience, Lei-chan…" she whispered to him softly.
"Lei-chan! What the heck are you calling me 'chan' for?"
Jun just ignored him. He continued.
"Anyway this host guy better come here or I am…"
He never did finish his sentence.
Out he walked, a stone face, eyes brows knitted together in a merciless scowl and seething arrogance hanging on him like a mist—Kazuya Mishima. He moved himself around like a god, full of power and grace and vitality. Jun felt an eerie aura emanating from him as he walked towards the large balcony that overlooked all the participants that had come. He stood there, his sharp, black eyes examining each and every one of them. She noticed how they burned with rage as soon as they landed on the man in the black gi. They stared daggers at each other for a long time, both emanating so much hatred that she could almost feel the air around them become poison itself. After a few moments, he took his eyes off him and scanned the rest. They landed on Lei and moved away as soon as they did—he didn't interest him even in the least.
And then they settled on her. Almost instantly the taut expression and the scowl faded slightly. The tenseness of his face seemed to be replaced by an expression she couldn't describe—somewhere in the middle of surprise and a secret happiness. She felt the ice-cold eyes melt away; she felt warmth. It was calmer, more peaceful.
All of a sudden, as if all that had happened was unintentional, the scowl returned. He lifted his gaze off her (which lingered on her a bit longer than it should have, she noticed) and looked up as he spoke to them all in his raspy voice.
"You have been invited to the Tekken 2 tournament. This is no beach ball party. You are here to represent your art forms and pit them against your opponent—nothing is off limits. Don't bother me if your opponent is too strong. That is your problem not mine. In the end if—IF—you defeat me in the final match, you will inherit the Mishima Zaibatsu. Ask me no other questions. I have nothing else to say to all of you. My men will tell you where and when you will fight and will lead you to your cabinets. Don't go nosing around in this island, you are here ONLY to fight—if you get raped or mauled by my men or attacked by some animal don't come whining to me. I will kill you myself. And remember the most important rule: in this island I am God. Now get lost!"
He simply turned around and walked back into the shadows of his large mansion where he had come from. Most of the fighters were dumbfounded over his directness, while once again the 'Tekken veterans' seemed indifferent.
"What an asshole!"
"What's with him?"
"Spooky guy!"
Jun ignored Lei and the others comments and simply watched the man in the dark gi stalk off. As he walked all the guards bowed to him. It didn't surprise her considering he was the previous leader of the Zaibatsu. She looked up at the balcony, finding herself searching for Kazuya again. Kazuya, though, had disappeared in the shadows of that ghastly mansion.
She shook her head.
As she turned to walk back to her cabinet, Lei walked up behind her.
"Hey guess what?"
Jun just stared at him.
"My room is next to yours!" he said with a cheeky smile.
Rolling her eyes, Jun walked off to her room and shut the door in his face as he came behind her, assuming he was invited. She was thinking of the evil she felt from the Kazuya and the other man to be bothered with the prying cop.
As she stood there she thought of the tournament. All the fighters were strong. She felt their spirits and it was mingled with single-minded ambitiousness, whatever the ambition was. She was the only one who lacked that drive—she was on a mission. That was all. She didn't have anyone to save, an old score to settle, greed for the Zaibatsu or the need for fame. She realized that this lack of 'drive' could be her undoing. And besides, all the people here were veteran fighters—black belts, prodigies and famous names from different styles, even legends like the American Judo fighter, Paul Phoenix. She was a simple twenty-two year old girl who learnt martial arts for self-defense…not as a gladiator destined to pit them against others.
In that moment she realized that the future was rough and bumpy.
She rested against her shut door to her cozy little room. It was a small room with a small bed in the corner, a few chairs and a table. Thankfully the window was pretty large, she thought. She was standing there with her head on the door when all of a sudden her head started spinning wildly. Numerous images flashed in her mind of an Angel's halo, a giant wolf and a stunning image of a demon walking hand-in-hand with an angel in a beautiful forest. Suddenly the day darkened, the image crumpled close and started burning, the demon and the angel reducing to ashes.
She gasped, overwhelmed at what she saw. What did it all mean? Suddenly her knees buckled and her head numbed. She collapsed on the floor, tears welling up her eyes.
A little boy was sitting on the grass. Jun was standing in the middle of a thick black forest, near the child, her heart beating rapidly. She looked at the little boy's smiling face and felt the weight of anxiety fall off her shoulders. She walked up to him and crouched beside him. He was happily sitting on the grass, singing to himself, playing with a toy—Batman. She looked at him and looked at his light brown eyes and jet-black hair. She saw her face there. She noticed the already powerful built he had and saw the same aura of uniqueness hanging onto him as great heroes and martyrs do.
"What are you doing here? Where is your mommy?"
"What are you saying, mama?" the little boy asked and looked up at her. He slowly started giggling, innocently at first but then she noticed a demonic set of canines, his eyes glowing red like someone…like Kazuya's.
Jun woke up. She was shivering uncontrollably as she sat up, peeling the sheets off her. She held her head for a long time as she sat there thinking about what she had seen.
This was the second vision she had had. The first one was in the afternoon when she came to her room and the second one was right now in the night. She used to get them before, had them even as a little child, but they were far and stretched apart, and never violent, usually more like a daydream than anything else. But now they were violent and disturbing.
And that child…some arcane part of womanhood had already answered that question for her—she knew this kid was her son…the son that wasn't even born yet. Yet still she found it all so hard to believe.
She held her head, brushed hair black bangs off her face and walked up to the window of her small room, surprised how drained the vision had made her. She looked outside and saw how lovely it was…even on this wretched island. She cupped her face in both her hands and stared at nature that greeted her enveloped in a sultry black mist. This was the world, our beautiful world yet to many who lacked the right way of looking at it, they saw no beauty—only darkness. The moon had come out now and hung out in the black night sky like a large, glowing wallflower. She continued looking at the moon, hugging herself with her cylinder arms as the cold night passed on.
She finally looked at the large mansion but suddenly noticed a large figure standing still on the balcony. It was Kazuya. He stood there staring at the moon, his muscular arms folded at his chest. He wasn't wearing a shirt and was dressed only in his pants she had seen him in earlier in the morning. From the silk like light of the moon she noticed his well built physique and his eyes almost seemed as if they were sparkling. Her eyes lingered on his face that seemed so different now. It was gentle, even kind, silence flooding it. He stood there like a demigod standing amidst a world he had descended in—a world where he didn't belong. In that moment she realized that this man, who was feared and hated, who seemed so arrogant and hostile in the morning had a side to him that was far away from it—as distant to his reality as the moon he was staring at was from him.
In that moment she decided to find out the truth about him—and if it really were a demon populating his soul then she would take it upon herself to exorcise it from him.
Fighters' room
"Someone crashed your dojo! What were you doing when it happened you stupid Bruce Lee wannabe! Making dim-sum! Bwahahaha!"
Paul had had more to drink than usual and he wasn't particularly used to saki. Law sat in front of him, his own cheeks flushed red. He too had had a lot to drink. Paul insisted that they celebrate HIS winning of the tournament beforehand lest they ran out of money as they usually did. Law, who was already pretty flushed in the face, got redder still when Paul passed that comment. He was laughing and drinking along but that "Bruce Lee" comment pressed his buttons.
"What do you mean, you grease monkey! I am not a Bruce Lee wannabe. I just look like him. And at least I know who my father is!"
"What! I know who my father is!"
"Yeah sure you do! I bet even he had a sack of shit on his head that he called hair!"
"Keep my father out of this, you Chinese fortune cookie!
"Don't call me Bruce Lee wannabe! I'm not the one driving an outdated heap of scrap metal!"
"And keep my bike out of this!"
"And at least I don't dress up like a gay porn star!"
"My outfit is cool! I'm not the one wearing yellow tights! And you sound like some retard off a badly dubbed Chinese movie!"
"You're so dumb you tried to drown a fish! You probably failed junior one 3 times and were kicked out of school!"
The truth hurts—and Paul didn't handle this pain very well.
"Damn you! You want some!"
"Damn YOU!"
And so it started again: Paul and Law were at each other's throat again, when only a few seconds ago they were drinking as best buddies. It was the same always. They were like little boys, only more muscular. The whole area echoed with loud thuds and battle cries of the Kung Fu and Judo veterans. Numerous lights flashed on and off from the other rooms as the other fighters yelled at them to cut it out.
"Knock it off you idiots! It's 3 a.m. in the morning!"
Nothing came of it. They continued to pound each other till eventually they were too tired to continue. Exhausted they sat side by side, resting their backs against the room walls. Dazed. Both were bruised up. Finally Paul picked up some of the remaining bottles of saki.
"Hey Bruce…err…Law, let's drink some more!"
Law looked at Paul irritated but eventually agreed.
"Yeah why not"
And so, just like how they had become enemies in only a few seconds they became friends again. With a grin Paul looked up at Law.
"Hey, but I kicked your ass back there!"
"Yeah right! I whacked you around so much my feet are numb!"
"Kiss my ass, dweeb!"
"Eat my fist!"
Zaibatsu-day 1 of the tournament
Lee Chaolin, Kazuya's half brother and current right hand man, stood examining the proceedings with his sharp and shrewd eyes. The proceedings finished and eventually the guards ushered the fighters to their destined places to fight.
"So far so good. I hope nothing stupid happens this time…and nothing gets in my way," he chuckled, as he envisioned his own ruling of the Zaibatsu—like everyone else, he too had his own agenda.
All fighters were given a small note that contained the description of when, where and who they were to fight. None of them could hope for it to be altered. There were around 20 fighters in total and all got the name of their first opponent and when and where they would face them. There were going to be no more than 4 matches in a day.
Heihachi opened his note and saw the name of the fighter he was supposed to face. He seethed with anger and closed his eyes. After a few deep breaths he opened then and smiled widely, full of confidence. Nothing was going to stand in his way to get back what was his. Nothing.
A few hours later
Jun shielded her eyes from the sun and the heat as she stood on the beach watching the first fight of the tournament. She was donning a grey top and shorts, while Lei, much to her annoyance was wearing only his boxers. She told him to at least wear a vest if he wanted to stand around her but he refused so she simply left him and came on her own accord. So far she hadn't gotten any leads or clues or anything. She wondered when she would find any.
Heihachi was standing a little in the sea. He awaited the arrival of his opponent. All the other fighters were standing waiting for the first match of the tournament to take place. Heihachi patiently stood there, retying the bandages on his forearms and hands. Slowly Heihachi's opponent made himself obvious. It was Yoshimitsu. The new fighters wondered how fair it was to have a guy with a katana (sword) fight a guy with no weapon. All of a sudden a hushed silence drowned the audience as Kazuya made his way to watch the fight. Steadily Kazuya made his way through the fighters and stood in the front line. He felt a weird presence near him and turned to see Jun standing next to him. She too felt a weird presence from him. They both looked at each other, her gentle eyes coming across his. Again she saw his face relax and the scowl fade away. But this time as they stood standing close to each other, she saw the change in the look in his eyes—from cold and merciless they changed soothed down.
But like before, he quickly, as if avoiding her, turned his head and stared at Heihachi. They stared at each other again for some time. Heihachi thought about the match as he stared at Kazuya.
"You bastard! You purposely made this match to see him cut me to pieces!"
Kazuya grinned. As if reading the old fart's mind Kazuya shouted out.
"I made this match to see if you still have anything left in you!"
Smiling Heihachi fell into a low horse stance, channeling his electricity type powers. He brought his right fist to his hip, the left one held at arm's length in front of him, still in a low horse stance. He looked at Yoshimitsu and motioned him to bring it on.
"Hurry!"
Yoshimitsu didn't waste time—he had to rescue Doctor B as soon as possible and that annoying whore, Kunimitsu was up to no good as usual either. He had to win and take the Zaibatsu from that no good scoundrel Kazuya.
Flipping forward he brought both his feet up to smash Heihachi in the jaw but he nimbly avoided him. Desperate to connect the Manji ninja catapulted himself forward and spun around, his sword spinning life a dicing machine.
In a single movement Heihachi planted his foot forward as if wanting to crush the whole earth with it, and thrust his arm forward in a straight punch.
"Heavy power punch!"
The incoming Yoshimitsu received the blow head on, his Japanese hat tearing. He fell backwards sharply and landed in the sea with a splash. Heihachi didn't look pleased. He wanted a real competition.
"Get up, you bastard!"
Slightly shaken, the ninja stood up eventually and came at Heihachi with a rapid series of 3 backspins. The first one bounced off Heihachi's thick forearm, the second one was parried easily but the third one connected with Heihachi's skull. The old man spun around on impact and Yoshimitsu took the opportunity to slash at him. His sword whizzed through the air dead locked at Heihachi's throat. Seeing it come Heihachi ducked under it in the nick of time, a bit of his spiky hair chopped off by Yoshimitsu's sharp katana. In a rapid secession Heihachi's fist collided with his jaw pushing him back with the immense impact, and then with the other fist Heihachi launched the Manji ninja high in the air with another brutally powerful uppercut, thin lines of electric ki sizzling at his fist and at Yoshimitsu's jaw.
"Twin pistons!"
Little drops of blood oozed out of his mouth as Yoshimitsu landed on the beach. He remained prone of the beach, still dazed, the sun lashing mercilessly at his face.
"This guy…his power...impossible!" he gasped.
He flipped up again and stood his ground. Heihachi was looking at him with a bored expression.
"If you want the Zaibatsu, you will have to go through ME!"
Gritting his teeth Yoshimitsu charged forward, his sword aimed at the old man's heart. At the last second though he crouched low and spun around many times, to take the old man off his feet. Heihachi, though, had seen it come.
He crouched low and simply held Yoshimitsu's leg with his powerful grip. Yoshimitsu looked as if he had seen a ghost. Heihachi smiled slowly.
"We, the Mishima's have a similar move. It's called the spinning demon. Let me show it to you…NOW!"
And with that he spun around thrice himself, ripping off the ninja from his feet and flipping him over in a clumsy way. The two other kicks kept him suspended in the air long enough to let Heihachi make him suffer a bit more. With a loud cry and an evil smile, Heihachi then leapt in the air.
"Dragon uppercut!"
The airborne Yoshimitsu felt a powerful fist dig into his prone body. Heihachi's loud voice still echoed in the beach as Yoshimitsu felt himself being launched in the air higher and higher and then onto the beach, his whole frame shivering as it tried to absorb the impact of Heihachi's punch.
Yoshimitsu lay crumpled on the beach sand. He couldn't move. All of a sudden he felt a powerful grip at his throat. Through squinted eyes he saw Heihachi's silhouette, hauling him off the beach sand as if he was a rag doll. Heihachi made him stand and placed his head between his own knees. With a smirk he looked at Kazuya and then with all his might hauled Yoshimitsu all over till his shoulders, and leapt high in the air. Through watery eyes, Yoshimitsu saw the world spin and rotate as Heihachi took him high with him, feeling his body rising and then descending rapidly.
"Man that's just over kill!" Paul finally spoke up. Any effects of the saki had been erased as he witnessed Heihachi's brutal punishment that he dealt Yoshimitsu.
With a loud battle cry, Heihachi descended and with all his strength, sadistically and with out remorse, slammed Yoshimitsu on one of the rocks that lay protruding on the beach, with his vicious power bomb. Kazuya watched unflinching as a sickening thud and a loud, painful groan told the slightly shaken spectators that the match was over.
Heihachi looked at the unconscious Yoshimitsu, as he lay crumpled on the ground. Lifting his foot up, electric sparks flying off it, he gazed maliciously at him…
"Maggot…"
He rammed his foot on his abdomen, breaking his ribs. With a satisfied smile, Heihachi walked through the crowd of fighters, shoving some of them out of his way till he was in Kazuya's face and stared dead into his eyes. Kazuya grinded his teeth together in fury. He was never a push over. He took a step forward till they were nose to nose.
"You…you are dead, sonny!" Heihachi muttered, his eyes wide with hatred and anger.
Kazuya didn't utter a single word but continued staring at him. Heihachi kept fuming and whispering threats at Kazuya.
All of a sudden Kazuya spoke.
"Go to HELL!" Kazuya seethed, shoving Heihachi back sharply.
The two would've come to blows any seconds now hadn't it been for a frail old man who stepped between the two. As soon as they saw him, both father and son bowed slightly to him. The old man was Wang Jinrei, an old family friend of the Mishima household and Heihachi's father's best friend.
"What are you doing, both of you? You are father and son—not mortal enemies!" he looked at Heihachi, "you haven't changed a bit. You still think the world is yours; not caring about loved ones, friends or foes! Has your lust for power blinded you so much!" and then he turned to Kazuya, "young man! No matter what he does he is still your father! Your actions were intolerable and disgraceful!"
Heihachi didn't react but Kazuya wasn't too happy at being reprimanded.
"Spare me your outdated sermons, old man!"
Wang was about to chide him more but Kazuya turned around and walked away cutting him short. Some of his guards following Kazuya as he stalked off into the mansion. Wang could only shake his head.
Jun was still wondering over what she had heard when Wang walked up to her. He looked at her as if he had seen something familiar in her, as if he had recognized her. He stared at her for a while, as if trying to recognize her from the descriptions someone had given him over the years. She didn't understand and felt awkward but keeping his age in mind, she bowed to him. When she regained her proper posture, however, she realized that he wasn't there.
"Who was he?" Jun wondered as she tried tracking him down but to no avail.