A/N: this is a fan fiction mostly focusing on Yoshimitsu's adventure, this is my first fanfic' so be nice with the critiques please, but other than that you can compliment criticize whatever.

A/N: I don't own any Soul Cailbur merchandise, names, basic plot, etc. Any names, ideas, similarities etc. are purely coincidental I haven't been doing this long enough to plagiarize anyone's idea I swear.

A/N: also I'm kind of tying in the images of Yoshimitsu from SC2 and SC3 cause they'll give you a more chronological idea of how he looks and sounds (SC2 imageyounger, SC3 imageolder) right that's it, enjoy please.

Prologue: A Survivor

I won't lie to you. If someone had told me that one day I would meet a man, a man on death's door mind you, who would so significantly alter my entire life-no my entire destiny, I probably would have smacked them upside the head and declared them nothing more than a pompous believer in prophetical nonsense like fortune telling (a witch or gypsy or some such nonsense like that). However in the end that is what happened and now here I am telling his story, which is also happens to be my story and the story of so many others.

The best place to start would probably be the day I first met the Great Yoshimitsu. It was in Kyoto where I met him. It was a dark night, the sky thick from overcast and it felt like rain that night, that quiet damp silence ever present before the great storms that shake huts and manors alike, as if they were sapling and no heavier than drift wood. I remember that I was walking out of the local inn after being slapped repeatedly by the waitress (a curvy and well endowed woman to say the least) I was downtrodden and alone feeling rejected and alone. As I sat down to contemplated and reminisce about my now dead older brother my mind began to wonder. I thought of where I would go, what I would do, what COULD I do to keep myself from ending up like he had, alone, unknown, just another mercenary lost under the cruel blade of Death's scythe. I found no answers, only common observations that were anything but uplifting. "My name is Nidoa Kitosa. I have no family, no friends, no relatives, and no lover to comfort or support me. I nothing more than an unknown mercenary, a tool of violence, a means to the end for some fat worthless slob that has not worked a day in his life. I will die soon; if not by an enemy then by one of those traitorous cretins I call comrades."

I found myself deep in the forest, at some point I must've gotten up and continued down the road as I scrutinized my bleak situation. It was then that I heard a noise from the depths of a nearby clearing. It was slow deathly moan, the kind that shook one's soul as they listened, as if the devil himself had given the poor dying creature that final false strength to cry in despair with nothing to hold onto but false hope that they would live to see the sun, shining and bright with life, again. I took a step meaning to leave the pathetic thing to his death but stopped suddenly, remembering my bother. He was lost but perhaps this dying shadow was the brother of another. Would I be so cruel as to torture some other person with the same devils that now plagued me? Would I really put some else through such terrible inner pain? Could I? ...No. With the speed of a professional pickpocket I rushed to the man's side only to stop dead in my tracks at his gruesome appearance. His face was no longer a face but a bleeding mass with eyes, a nose, and patches of skin dotting in random places, the rest destroyed and scarred by deep blade wounds made on inner flesh for the rest of the skin looked to have been burned or torn off. He had no right hand, merely a stump bleeding freely through a blood sodden cloth. His body was defined by reopened scars, blade wounds, bruises, punctures, abrasions, and other terrors the likes of which I do not think I could name to you here. I stooped to pick him up, bloody mass and all, his lolling about as it were nothing but an ornament serving no purpose except to burden the rest of the mass with further pain. He groaned as I picked him up, I figured his bones were broken in many places but I could not worry about such things for I knew he was suffering from far worse.

"I'm taking you to help don't worry, your safe now,"

I whispered to him. He made a noise which I could not understand. "What? What is it?" I asked him wondering what could possibly be more important than his own life. Need or the end gave him voice.

"M-my…..sw-sword….." with those words he passed out and hung limp. I looked about the ground where I had found him and discovered a katana lying next to a canvas bag heavy with something or other. Quickly stooping to pick them both up I slung them over my shoulder and ran with all my strength back into town, taking him to the best doctor I could find. I had little hope for his survival but something pushed me on ward. All I could tell you is that every time I considered letting him die, I felt something, something most certainly not of this world, radiate from that sword on my back, I when I felt I continued on, out of fear.

The doctor was a good man, skilled in many treatments with many nurses and assistants to help him care for the man whom thy said had a slim chance to live. I decided not to stick around; I wanted to be rid of that sword and that man as quickly as I could. I told the doctor that the man would pay when he was well and that I had no idea who he was and that I had no inclination as to who he was. The doctor reluctantly agreed and I went on wards, hoping to never be near that man again if I could help it. I was close to the city's gates when I again met a strange site. A group of warriors, they were police, fighters of the government, with little regard for the law and who found much pleasure in the pain of others. One of the officers came to me looking bloodthirsty and violent (more so then usual of course) and spoke to me in his suspicious tone of voice, looking for a good excuse to arrest me no doubt.

"You there! Have you been in the woods tonight?"

"Yes."

"Then tell me, have you seen anything strange out there this night?" Now it was my turn to mess with them, an act I took great pride and pleasure from.

"Why sir, you will have to better explain yourself. After all, this world is filled with many strange things." This statement was given with a coy smile and received with an angry scowl.

"Shut up smart-ass this is serious! We're looking for an escapee from a clan in these woods that we have reason to be believe have been plotting against the government. He is to receive his execution as the rest of his clan has. Now did you see him? He should have had a katana with him of very fine make." My blood went cold. The man I had just saved! Should I tell him? No. Surely these monsters had executed the clan for no reason and were simply after this man to make sure he kept quiet about their actions. I quickly created a false story.

"There was a man out there, now that I recall. He was already dead, mutilated by something or someone I suppose. I was going to take him away out of decency for the body but another man came out of the dark and chased me away." He examined me closely and then turned around.

"DAMMIT! Sir! This man says that the one we're after is dead but that another is alive! In the forest still, he says." The head officer now came over to me and looked me up and down and then drew up close to me and spoke in a cruel menacing voice.

"Listen here son, you forget everything you saw tonight or else. But listen here I want you to keep an ear out while you're around here. If we find your lying and are hiding him we'll kill you, quick as we will him. You remember this name for its owner is a dangerous villain. Find him for us and you'll be rewarded if not well you can imagine. I only say this to you because I don't buy your story but we've got nothing else to go by. Remember this name, the man we're looking for, his name is….Yoshimitsu." he left me then, petrified in my tracks. Scared out of my skull for whatever reason, perhaps because I began to understand the possible consequences of my lie. Or perhaps because I remembered the man and his sword and the fear he and his sword instilled in me when I first saw them.

Yoshimitsu a name that would follow and influence me for the end of my life. A name to strike fear in the wicked, to inspire hope in the downtrodden. A name to shake the ages.

A/N right so that's the end of the prologue. I hope you liked it. Read and review please when you read it. And if I get good reviews I'll continue

Many thanks

-Don Alphose