A/N: The events of this chapter are meant to overlap the events in the previous chapter. Also, there are drug use references in this chapter, I know some of the readers can be young so I feel compelled to warn you.

(The Deadliest of Sins)

Jun felt the warmth surround her body in the darkness. It was comforting, soothing at first but it quickly became uncomfortable. There was a dry heat that seemed to have consumed any and all humidity around her. Her throat felt dry, her tongue parched and the temperature continued to rise as she felt the air diminish inside her lungs. She breathed in deeply hoping for some relief but to her dismay, she felt hot ash penetrate her mouth and nostrils making her throat sting and her eyes water as she gasped for air.

She woke up with her heart thumping loudly in her chest in a tangle of sheets and drenched in sweat. She untangled herself from her bedding and urgently reached for the glass of water on her bedside table. She let the cool liquid slide down her throat then put the glass to her forehead and felt it cool her slightly. Sunlight was already streaming into her bedroom, she looked at the clock and was surprised to see that it was nearly eight o'clock, she couldn't remember the last time when she had woken up so late. She took slow, deep breaths and sat cross-legged on her bed as she attempted to make sense of what she had just experienced.

It had been more than a nightmare, of that she was certain, but she couldn't be sure if it was a warning, an outcome or merely symbolism. She suddenly saw Kazuya in her mind's eye and she felt fear grip her, but she wasn't afraid of him; she feared for him.

"Why?" She uttered softly.

She didn't have an answer, only a heavy feeling that followed her every step as she showered and readied herself for the day.

She dressed in a pair of jeans and a light-blue blouse and as she brushed her hair in front of the mirror in her tiny bathroom she realized what she needed to do. Letting a sigh escape her lips she set the brush on the counter and walked into her living room then lit the incense on her coffee table. Sitting on the small area rug, she began to meditate.

She soon found herself walking the endless, white sand with the cloudless, blue sky above her.

I was beginning to worry.

Jun spun around quickly when she heard Angel's voice behind her. She stood with her sandal-clad feet planted firmly on the sand, her arms crossed lightly under her chest. Jun looked away when she saw that the beautiful, blonde being had a pair of magnificent, white, feathered wings that shone almost silvery in the sunlight. She momentarily felt unworthy to look upon her.

You didn't have wings the last time I saw you. Jun said as she timidly turned her gaze toward Angel.

I did not want to seem more intimidating than I needed to be.

I didn't know what else to do, Jun told her, I had a dream...or a premonition, I don't know which-

Yes, Angel interrupted, I am aware.

You look into my dreams? Jun's apprehension was quickly replaced by a flicker of a feeling somewhere between annoyance and anger.

Not normally, Angel's expression turned to one of concern, but I was drawn to it.

It's about Kazuya then.

I'm afraid so.

What's going to happen to him? Jun asked feeling dread envelop her.

I do not know. What you saw and felt could be something that he will cause, it may not necessarily be something that will happen to him. There's a feeling of turmoil today...unrest... But it may just as well be your worry for him manifesting itself as a dream.

But if it drew you to me it has to be more than a dream.

I can't be certain.

Pardon my ignorance, but can a being as powerful as yourself not see what will happen in advance?

No. I cannot simply look into the future and mark a date when an event will take place. I can see possible outcomes and I can discern which of those outcomes is more likely to occur.

Sometimes I see the future.

Do you ever see it when you want to see it? When you need it?

No, I try, but I haven't been able to figure out how.

That is because it is something impossible to achieve at will. Looking into the future is the same as trying to sort a jumbled pile of yarn, each piece is a different decision, an impulse that a single person acts upon. One must find the colors that remain constant and see where they join and separate, where they break. Once the correct strands, the possible futures, are found, one is still at the mercy of free will, of vulnerable bodies and minds. It requires patience and time that humans simply do not possess; a lifetime is not long enough to outline all the possibilities.

It was not what Jun wanted to hear. She had been able to see glimpses of the future since she was a little girl, the visions were sporadic and brief and most of the time she had not known that she was seeing the future until it had come to pass. She had always been certain that she would be able to hone her skills as time went by, but upon hearing Angel's words she felt somewhat discouraged. She hoped that Angel was wrong, that with enough practice and determination she would be able to see the future at will.

I thought you would have answers. Jun said unable to keep the disappointment from her voice.

I do not have answers, but again I offer a solution. Let me join with you so that we may help Kazuya rid himself of Devil.

Jun sighed. You say that the future can't be predicted, so it is possible for me to be able to help him on my own.

Possible yes, certain is an entirely different matter. That is why I ask that you allow me to help you.

I asked that you give me time, I will see him tonight, give me at least until tomorrow to decide.

What makes you think that the outcome of this meeting will be any different than the last?

Jun sighed in frustration. Everything is different now; I'm no longer trying to get him arrested, I've entered the tournament to have an excuse to be near him even if he doesn't want to see me and I know which subjects to avoid when we talk.

I know that through your young, human eyes it seems simple, but all your efforts may not be enough in the end.

But they may be.

Angel dropped her arms to her sides and her wings folded behind her. You are stubborn, young one, tenacious. Pray that you are not wrong or we will all pay the price of your arrogance.

Jun opened her eyes and found herself in her apartment once more.

"Arrogance?" She said out loud as she furrowed her brow.

She stood up and pondered the word as she prepared her breakfast. In the twenty-two years that she had been alive, no one had ever used the word arrogant to describe Jun Kazama. If any person had called her arrogant she could have easily dismissed it, but it had come from a divine being and that was what deeply bothered her. She began to question her motives for helping Kazuya, was she just trying to prove something? Was she being overprotective? Possessive? If that was the case it would mean that not only was she arrogant, she was selfish as well. She shook her head at the thought as she began to brew some tea. She wasn't being arrogant, she was being cautious, if there was an easier way to help Kazuya rid himself of Devil, one that didn't involve both of them being possessed, why not do that? She still didn't know what Angel's methods would be and the phrase 'saving his soul at all costs' was still nagging at her.

She opened the refrigerator to look for some vegetables to add to her meal but was disappointed to find none. That had been one of the advantages of living in Yakushima, she could grow her own produce and not have to bother with making time to go to the store to buy sub-par vegetables. She walked out of the kitchen and into the living area and set her bowl of steamed rice on the coffee table along with an omelet and a cup of tea then sat on the floor facing her small television set. She reached for the remote and turned the power on hoping to take her mind off Angel and her dream.

She flipped through the channels and settled for what seemed to be a news program. A young reporter was standing next to a sign that marked the Narita Airport entrance.

"It seems that it all began before sunrise this morning when word reached the Narita International Airport protest organizers that Michio Shimizu was forcibly removed from his home during the night. The Transport Ministry has denied these claims and says that they are investigating the allegations."

The camera zoomed out and focused on the hundreds and hundreds of people marching and pacing while holding picket signs.

Jun didn't hear the rest of the report, she felt inexplicably drawn to the protest. For a fleeting moment, she thought about calling Noriko to ask if she could let her use her car but quickly decided against it. The airport was over an hour away and traffic was bound to be a nightmare. There was also the possibility that she would be stranded there and would be forced to miss her meeting with Kazuya.

She had not been unemployed for more than a day and she already missed working. That was why she had wanted to go join the protest, she decided. It was the thought of being involved in something that could change things for the better, the thought of helping the underdog defeat a powerful entity.

She turned off the TV set and finished her breakfast then washed her dishes and packed some training clothes into a gym bag. There was a dojo close by where she trained during weekends, she would spend a few hours there and try to keep her mind off the dream, Angel and the protest. She felt her heart skip a beat when she remembered that she would see Kazuya at the end of the day.

"No." She muttered to herself.

She was just doing it to help him, she needed to treat it as a business meeting, or what she imagined a business meeting was like. It was all for his sake alone, if anything else happened after he was free of that demon, of that darkness... She sighed heavily. She had resigned her position and was now unemployed, she had entered a fighting tournament that might very well cause her to end up in a hospital or worse, she had rearranged her entire life to help him... She couldn't fool anyone, especially herself.


The ink was dry on all the contracts, hands had been shaken and the building had been leased and occupied. Still, Lee periodically, almost hourly, opened the thick file folder on the table and reread the business plan. He was afraid that it was a dream, that he would wake up at any moment and be back in Japan with nothing.

He ran his hands through his silver hair then moved his neck from side to side. He was underslept, but that was nothing new, he was no stranger to sleepless nights. He was a very light sleeper, it had become survival instinct when he was a child sleeping on park benches and alleyways. He could never let his guard down, not even to sleep. There were still nights now that he was an adult who had no reason to fear for his safety when he would sometimes be awakened by the slightest of noises. On those days he found that having someone sleeping next to him helped him fall back asleep, as long as she didn't snore... He missed Sayuri, she was the perfect sleeping partner. He checked his watch and saw that it was nearly eight in the morning, he had been awake for twenty-eight hours and it would be ten more before his workday was done, then he had to call Sayuri at eight. He made a mental note to buy her something expensive before his return; very expensive. He knew it would not make her forget but there was a possibility that it may help her forgive. But Sayuri had not been the reason why he had spent an entire night awake.

He had been plagued by memories the entire night, memories of the day exactly two years prior. For the entirety of those two years, Lee had told himself over and over that he should have handled things differently. If he had been ruthless like Heihachi wanted him to be he would be leading the Zaibatsu, if he had taken his training more seriously, he would have won the tournament. Or perhaps if he had been compassionate with his brother the way that his conscience sometimes told him he should be, he would be leading the Zaibatsu along with Kazuya. There had always been animosity and rivalry between them, but before that day their relationship had been one of disdain and jealousy instead of all-out hate.

-Two Years Prior-

Lee Chaolan was the epitome of power and decadence in the New York branch of the Mishima Zaibatsu. A man hated by most of his employees because no one wanted a Chinese twenty-five year old as their boss when they had been in the business longer than he had been alive. It didn't bother him, in fact, he reveled in it. They were the same type of foreign businessmen who used to think he was not worthy of shining their shoes when he was a child; of course, this time he was the foreigner, but now he was looking down on them and as an added perk was sleeping with their daughters.

He was in bed with the daughter of one of his employees at that very moment; he had taken her home after the party even though for the life of him he couldn't remember her name. She worked in the building too, she was either in accounting or human resources...maybe. Things were going to be awkward when they returned to work, but Lee had not been in the right state of mind to worry about such things.

"The phone is ringing."

Lee heard the words and understood each of them individually, but together they made no sense. He felt hands pushing him onto his side and tried to resist but quickly found that he was too tired to care what the woman did.

"Pick up the fucking phone!"

Her voice was loud and obnoxious. He tried to ignore her but she continued to poke and prod his back and he began to hear the ringing of the telephone, he felt the cold air chill him as the sheets slid off his body.

"Pick it up!" She insisted. "I've only had like an hour of sleep."

"Me too!" He yelled as he began reaching for the phone. "Stop hogging all the sheets!" He forcefully pulled the purple, silk sheets over himself leaving her exposed. The air conditioning had been left on all day and night and he had not bothered to turn it off when he got home, now he felt like he was inside a freezer.

"Fine, take them!" She said as she reached for the comforter that had fallen off the bed.

Lee looked at the clock and sighed when he saw that it was only four thirty-eight; he had slept less than an hour. "Hello?" He answered in English.

"Why the hell haven't you signed up for the tournament?" A rough Japanese-speaking voice drilled into his ear.

"Father?" The word came out in English before he could stop himself.

"No, it's your dead mother," came Heihachi's sarcastic and cruel reply. "And speak to me in the proper tongue."

"I apologize, father." He said in Japanese, glad that the woman in his bed wouldn't be able to understand the conversation.

"Are you drunk?"

"No."

If Heihachi had called a couple of hours earlier the answer would have been yes...and also high. It had become something that happened almost every weekend, he had resisted at first but as months went by, the fact that he and Heihachi were an ocean apart began to sink in. He realized that for the first time in his life he was his own man and told himself that a little coke a couple of times a week wasn't going to do any harm. In his mind he deserved it, every day of the week he spent his hours working, then training after work leaving no time for a personal life. As a result, he had slowly become the poster boy for the work hard, party hard lifestyle. The way he saw it as long as he kept everything running smoothly and exceeding Heihachi's expectations he could do as he pleased on the weekend. Still, he wasn't stupid enough to tell him what he was doing.

"You sound drunk." The Mishima patriarch insisted.

"I was sleeping, it's four in the morning..." He sighed, just hearing the old man's voice made him feel like a child and he felt the need to confess to something. "...I did do some drinking, I was celebrating my birthday."

Being Labor Day weekend he had taken the opportunity to throw himself a late birthday party at a lavish hotel that had started early Friday night and had ended at two in the morning on Sunday. He had planned to use the rest of the day as well as Monday to recover before going back to work on Tuesday.

"Your birthday was two months ago."

"Yes, but I've been too busy to celebrate and since it's a holiday weekend-"

"Stop talking in Chinese and let me sleep!" The woman's shrill voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard and he felt himself physically cringe.

"It's Japanese!" Lee hissed at her putting a hand over the receiver. "Just go sleep on the goddamned couch!"

"I should have listened to Veronica, you are such an asshole!" She yelled in frustration sitting up, pulling the comforter off the bed and dragging it behind her as she left. Her long hair looked dark in the dimly-lit room, but he couldn't remember if she was a brunette or a redhead. He wished he had left her at the hotel.

"She sounds classy." Heihachi's voice came over the receiver pulling him out of his thoughts. "So you needed a three-day weekend to celebrate? You're twenty-four years old, you're too old for birthday parties. Leave that for the children."

"I'm twenty-five," Lee corrected, feeling irritated. "And this is the first time in nearly twenty years that I've had any sort of celebration for my birthday."

"Oh, I apologize, son," Heihachi's voice was dripping with sarcasm, "I thought taking you into my home and saving you from misery and death was enough, but now it turns out I was expected to throw parties for you too?"

"Why the fuck did you call me at four in the morning?" Even though he was half asleep, he realized that he was still somewhat drunk; he was usually a master at masking his anger. His mistake put him on alert, he knew that his father wouldn't take kindly to what he'd just said.

"Don't be insolent, boy." Heihachi's voice was low and tight, like a whip ready to crack. "I sent you to America so that you could learn how to properly run my company, not to adopt their culture of disrespect."

"...I apologize, father."

"I already told you why I called, but it seems that you're too damn drunk to answer so I'll ask again," Lee was thankful that there was an ocean separating them. "Why aren't you here now signing up for the tournament? The deadline is tomorrow, I assumed that you had signed up last month when you came to visit."

"...I'm not going to enter the tournament," Lee said hesitantly.

"Yes, you are." Heihachi's voice was calm and steady but there was an anger behind it that he recognized very well. "I already told you what is expected of you."

"The timing is wrong," Lee began to explain, "there is just too much work that needs to be done, I can take a couple of days off and make an appearance but-"

"That sounds like an excuse," Heihachi said speaking over him, "have you let up on your training? I'd better not find out that you've been slacking off because-"

"I haven't!" Lee snapped. "I train every goddamned day, it's not an excuse, I'm just as good as any of the fighters that are going to participate, but I-"

"Watch your tone!" His father warned. "You are my son! The world doesn't expect you to be just as good as the other fighters, you are expected to be the best!"

"I fight my battles in the boardroom and I always win, I don't need to prove myself in some fighting arena."

"You don't get to pick and chose your battles!" Heihachi raised his voice prompting him to pull the receiver away from his ear. "Mishimas fight in the boardroom and the arena, it isn't a choice. Even your good-for-nothing brother signed up already, you are making me look bad and-"

"He what?" Lee couldn't believe what he had just heard, though he should have known it would happen. "When?"

"Two days ago, and don't interrupt me again or-"

"I'll start packing immediately," Lee said dejectedly, speaking over him.

"It's almost six in the evening here, I expect you to walk through the front door no later than noon tomorrow." Heihachi hung up without waiting for a response.

Even though he was exhausted, somewhat intoxicated and now felt the beginning of a pounding headache, Lee stood up and began to pack. He felt stupid, he felt hurt but most of all he felt angry with himself for having trusted Kazuya.

His brother had called him the same week that the King of Iron Fist Tournament had been announced. He had proposed that both he and Lee should stay out of the tournament to show Heihachi that he could no longer control them. Most importantly to make him look the weak patriarch before the eyes of the world as payback for the hell he had put them through while living under his roof. Lee had taken days to think it over until finally deciding to set aside his differences with his brother and had agreed to forgo the tournament. Though admittedly he had been looking forward to all the media attention that was certain to come with it, what he truly wanted to be known for was being a successful businessman. And he was sure that staying out of his father's tournament would come with its fair share of attention and requests for interviews.

As he packed his bags in his cold bedroom at five in the morning, he realized what a foolish decision it had been. At first, he had thought that Heihachi would do no more than admonish him but now that he thought about it, he could very well disown him or at the very least demote him to do some humiliating office job back in Japan. Heihachi had confided in him and told him that he had officially made him his sole heir; he had almost thrown away his career, his reputation, and the entire Mishima empire all because he was eager to believe that Kazuya was willing to set their past differences aside. He had shown weakness and been made to look the fool all for the slightest of hopes that he might have some semblance of a normal relationship with a member of his fucked up family. He had planned to work something out with his brother, to find a way to put him back in the will, but now... He would show Kazuya the mistake he had made, he would take the Zaibatsu for himself and best him in the arena with the world as his witness.

Lee stepped out of his pricey, Manhattan apartment into the chilly, Sunday morning with his bags packed and his passport ready, leaving the brunette or redhead, he still couldn't remember, asleep on his couch. He took a cab to the airport and was on a plane to Tokyo before seven a.m. Eastern Daylight Time. Fourteen hours later he arrived in Tokyo on Monday, at ten a.m. Japan Standard Time with bloodshot eyes and a severe case of jet lag.

He took a cab to the Mishima Estate, Heihachi had not even bothered to send a car to pick him up. He knew it was his way of telling him that he was not pleased with him. He fell asleep in the cab and woke when the driver stepped on the breaks causing him to bump his head on the window. He paid the man and gave him some extra so he would carry his luggage to the front door. As he stepped onto the familiar circular, stone-paved driveway he was unsteady on his feet, he stopped but felt as if his body were still in motion. After several steadying breaths he finally made his way to the heavy, wooden front door, Keiko the housekeeper opened it and pulled Lee into a hug as the cab driver set the luggage next to them before heading back to his cab.

"This house is not the same without you," the middle-aged Japanese woman told Lee, "if you don't come back soon I'll quit."

"No, you won't," Lee attempted a smile.

"I know," Keiko sighed. "You look like death, I'll make you some fresh miso soup and after you eat it's straight to bed with you."

"All right," Lee said as he began to make his way to the dining room, "you've twisted my arm."

"Lee..." Keiko softly put her hand on his shoulder. "Your father is in there waiting for you...he's angry."

Those words would have shaken him to his core when he was younger, maybe even yesterday, but at the moment he was too tired to care.

"Thank you," he said, truly appreciating her concern.

As soon as he entered the dining area he saw Heihachi, he was wearing a gray suit perfectly tailored to his form, the scowl on his face deepened when he saw him. He stood from his chair and walked up to Lee.

"Welcome home, son."

Lee felt his body stumble back a step as his father's backhand struck him across the face. He bit the inside of his cheek and immediately tasted blood, the pain gradually spread throughout the right side of his face and as he felt his temperature rise his hands instinctively balled into fists. It had been years since Heihachi had struck him and he didn't know how to react, so he stood there, frozen, his eyes fixed on an ancient Japanese vase adorning a dark, wooden table.

"This is to remind you that whether we are in the same room or on different continents you address me with respect," Heihachi spoke in a low menacing voice. "Don't forget that you owe everything you are to me. Had I not taken you in, you would have died in a back alley years ago and no one would have missed you, no one would have even noticed."

His words stung more than his backhand. Lee knew that he was right, without Heihachi, his best outcome would have been spending his life in prison.

"No one would miss him if he died now, except his gold-digging whores...oh, wait, he calls them girlfriends." Lee shifted his gaze toward Kazuya's mocking voice, he was casually leaning against the arched doorframe between the dining room and the first living area. He hoped that he had not witnessed the entire incident but he knew that the chances were slim.

Heihachi ignored Kazuya's remark and went to the unnecessarily large dining table to retrieve a clipboard then handed it to Lee along with a pen.

"Sign this," he ordered.

"What is it?" Lee wanted to rinse his mouth to rid himself of the metallic taste but didn't want to give either his father or brother the satisfaction of seeing his discomfort.

"The contract required to enter the tournament," Heihachi explained. "My assistant had to waste her time filling out the rest of the forms for you, so all you have to do is sign, your highness." Lee did as he was asked. "Now get some sleep, the banquet is tonight at eight, I expect you both there early." He took the clipboard from Lee and gave him a strange look, almost as if there was something else that he wanted to say, but he glanced at Kazuya and seemed to have thought better of it. Heihachi gave Lee one last look and briskly walked out.

Lee stood motionless until he heard Heihachi's footsteps fade and the front door slam then he picked up the first thing he was able to get a hold of and threw it at Kazuya. He saw Kazuya duck and the ancient vase shatter against the doorframe.

"You lying, piece of shit," he said as he advanced toward his older brother, he attempted to grab Kazuya by the collar of his white T-shirt, but he easily sidestepped and pushed him out of the way.

"Calm down," Kazuya said in a low measured voice. "Don't even try to take me on, the training dummy could knock you on your ass right now."

"Are you all right, Lee?" The housekeeper's concerned voice sounded behind him.

"I'm the one being attacked and you're worried about him?" Kazuya asked incredulously. "Figures, you're everyone's golden boy."

Her presence forced him to calm down somewhat. "Everything is fine, don't worry." She looked from Lee to Kazuya then reluctantly left the room.

"That vase has been in this house longer than you have," Kazuya said. "You know it's going to be the first thing the old man notices when he walks in here."

Lee ignored his remark. "So your plan this entire time was to make me look like an asshole in front of him. To what end?"

"He's always going on and on about how he bought himself the perfect son," Kazuya shrugged, "it's irritating."

"You told me you were not going to enter!" Lee insisted.

"And you believed me?" Kazuya laughed. "If you haven't heard, for the last five years I've been competing in fighting tournaments all around the world and winning every single one. Did you really think I would miss the most publicized tournament in history?" Lee felt his anger surge and attempted to grab Kazuya again, and again he sidestepped. "Look, go have some food, get some sleep and then we'll have a talk, it's long overdue."

"You're the last person I want to have a talk with." He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. "You want to wait until we're in the arena to fight? That's fine." He lit up then took a long drag before putting the lighter and pack back in his pocket. "That's best anyway, you know I like an audience."

Kazuya scoffed. "You are quite the attention whore."

Lee shrugged as the took another drag. "I won't deny it." He said as he exhaled.

"You're really trying to get on the old man's bad side aren't you?" Kazuya leaned on the doorframe again. "Breaking priceless pottery, smoking in the house, doing cocaine..."

As he heard Kazuya's words Lee felt his heartbeat accelerate and inhaled when he should have exhaled then immediately began to cough violently, feeling his throat and nostrils sting. When he finally managed to stop he wiped the tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his brown jacket. "How do you know that?" He asked as he cleared his throat.

"Me?" Kazuya asked casually. "Because your moron friend Paul was telling me that he couldn't keep up with you. If you're trying to keep a secret don't tell that idiot."

"What? When did you see him?"

"At our fight in Las Vegas last month," Kazuya sighed. "Did you really not know about it, or are you high all the time?"

Lee shook his head, Paul Phoenix was a good training partner and someone who was fun at lowbrow parties and establishments, but he had known it was a bad idea to take him to that party. It was his fault, Paul had told him that it wasn't his kind of place but Lee had insisted.

"Did you tell father yet?" Lee asked bitterly. "Or are you going to blackmail me somehow?"

Kazuya scoffed. "You always think the worst of me, don't you? He already knows, but I didn't tell him. You think he hasn't paid some of your so-called friends to report everything you do over to him? I listened in last night when Heihachi's assistant brought over the tournament contract... He wants to send you to rehab." Kazuya began to laugh.

"...What?" Lee shook his head and began to pace the dining room as he smoked. "Rehab? I don't need rehab, it's just a few lines a couple of times a week!"

"Don't worry," Kazuya said nonchalantly, "not real rehab, his version. His assistant suggested it and the old man said, 'rehab? Yes, I'll send that boy to rehab.' It's all in the emphasis, if he hadn't already invested so much time and money into you, he'd probably murder you... I'd be worried."

Lee began to check off names in his head, he wanted to figure out who could have betrayed him, but it was too difficult to concentrate. "What is so funny?" He asked when Kazuya began to laugh again.

"That you finally snapped in the most predictable way possible," he chuckled. "Pretty, rich-boy starts doing blow to cope with the pressure of living up to daddy's unrealistic expectations," he pointed at Lee. "You are a walking cliché."

"I didn't snap! I'm just blowing off some steam on the weekends, don't tell me you don't." He countered.

"I do, but I do it like a man, beating other people senseless. You, on the other hand, surround yourself with other little rich boys and you pretend that you have friends, you surround yourself with gold-digging whores and you pretend that they love you, then you all snort your sad feelings away for a moment. That's not blowing off steam, you're turning yourself into a ticking time bomb, one day you're going to explode and it won't be pretty, I just hope I'm there to see it. "

Lee began to pace faster as he continued to smoke. "...You'd just love to see me fail, but I won't." He was more worried about Heihachi knowing what he had been doing with his weekends than he would ever admit.

Kazuya cocked his head slightly as he looked at Lee. "You do seem a bit edgy, do you need a hit? Or would you rather I drive you to a real rehabilitation facility?"

"Shut up."

"I wish the world could see you as you really are, a scared, little boy struggling to maintain control."

"I am in complete control!" Lee insisted. "It's what he's always drilled into our heads; control and discipline. Do you really think I would be doing it if I wasn't?"

Kazuya nodded. "Yes, I'm sure it's possible that you are in control, but I think that you do it because it gives you the illusion that you control some aspect of your life. It makes you feel like you're not just Heihachi's little puppet, it makes you feel like you're your own man."

"I am, I'm doing what I want to do, he's not making me do anything."

"Then prove it," Kazuya challenged, "act like a man. When he confronts you about it tell him to go fuck himself, as long as it's not interfering with your work it's none of his business."

Lee suddenly felt how exhausted he was, there had been no time to recover from his party and what little sleep he was able to get on the plane had somehow made him feel worse. He was thirsty and had a headache and he couldn't remember if it was Sunday or Monday; all he wanted to do was sleep. He ran his hand through his hair and closed his eyes.

"No," Kazuya said, "you're not going to do anything. You're just going to stand there and take it like you always do." Lee opened his eyes and stared daggers at his brother, but he continued. "You let him hit you for god's sake, you're twenty-five years old, you should have seen the look on your face, it was like you were fourteen all over again. It would have been comical if it wasn't so pathetic."

"You weren't much different then," Lee reminded him.

"No, I wasn't because I was only fifteen, but if he tried that now, if he laid a hand on me right now I would deal with it like a man... I would kill him." His tone was steady and his face blank, Lee knew that he was telling the truth and it shook him to his core.

"That's your definition of acting like a man?" Lee asked him hoping that his uneasiness didn't show. "Murder?"

Kazuya shrugged. "Justified murder."

"No, acting like a man is facing any and every challenge head-on and rising above any and every circumstance-"

"What self-help book did you memorize that bullshit from?" Kazuya shook his head. "Whatever, don't listen to me, let him treat you the same way he always has, that's why you're his favorite because you let him treat you like his bitch."

"Fine," Lee shook his head, he was tired and angry and humiliated and he just wanted to put someone in their place; Kazuya was the only one there, "mock me, insult me, I don't care. At least I'm not the one who was kicked off the will."

"What?" Kazuya moved so fast that he didn't even notice when he closed the distance between them, he grabbed him by his jacket catching him off guard and causing him to drop his half-smoked cigarette on the floor. "How do you know this?" His menacing whisper chilled him to the bone.

"He told me," Lee knew he should have kept quiet, he should not have said anything.

"The Zaibatsu? The estate? He's leaving everything to you?"

Lee was ashamed at that moment, he should have told him. Kazuya had gone through even more hell than he had with Heihachi as his father, he deserved something for his trouble. He would have told him, if only Kazuya had shown a bit of civility toward him...

"...Everything." He quietly admitted.

He felt fear grip him as he looked into Kazuya's eyes, for the briefest of instants he swore that they flashed red, but he was beyond exhausted and logic told him that it was impossible. Kazuya forcefully shoved him and he had to put his hand on a chair for support to avoid falling.

"I will bury you both," Kazuya threatened before heading out the door.

Lee felt shaken by the hate behind his brother's words, it was almost as if a feeling of fear hung in the air putting weight on his chest and making him break into a cold sweat.

"Shit..." He murmured as he looked down at the floor, his cigarette had fallen on the area rug and had burned a mark on the most noticeable color; he couldn't blame that on Kazuya.

-Present-

Lee never found out what Heihachi's version of rehab would have been, there had not been any time to even raise the issue. He had been too preoccupied with the final preparations for the tournament and then with the realization that Kazuya was on the warpath. After seeing the ferocity with which he was beating his opponents Heihachi had warned Lee to be on guard, to not hold anything back if he had to face him in the arena. His warning made no difference to Lee, it was the same thing that he had said since the first day that he made them spar together as boys, but in hindsight, he should have taken his warning more seriously. He had stepped onto the fighting ground with his head buzzing with excitement from his victories and had not expected the utter brutality of his brother's each and every hit nor the seemingly uncontrollable rage seething inside him. It had not ended well for him, Heihachi had fared even worse...

Deep inside he knew that no matter what he had done things would be the same or at least close to what they were now, but all those what ifs were difficult to get rid of. Kazuya would never have accepted Lee's proposal to lead the Zaibatsu as equals, he wanted it for himself just as much as he did. If Lee had won the tournament, if he were the one leading the Zaibatsu, Kazuya would be the one trying to take it. That was what Lee told himself every time he was plagued by those memories, that their destiny had already been written, no matter who lead the other would try to take the Zaibatsu even if it meant steamrolling his brother.

Lee had tried to rid himself of those thoughts the entire night by exercising in the gym and using the empty yoga room in his hotel to train for the tournament. On the days when the what ifs nagged at him he liked to keep himself busy, mentally and physically ideally, but either-or worked for him. He was sitting at the desk double checking bank statements and expense reports as well as résumés for the two candidates interviewing for the final computer programmer position later in the day when he heard a knock on the door. He quickly stood up while adjusting his sky-blue tie, he nearly grabbed the dark-gray suit jacket draped over the back of his chair but decided against it. He opened the door and a man dressed in a hotel uniform pushing a food cart bowed to him. Lee stepped aside to let him pass and was very pleasantly surprised to see a small, Chinese man beaming at him as he stood waiting in the hallway. Lee returned the smile and bowed deeply.

"Master," he said respectfully.

"Good morning, young man." Wang Jinrei bowed in return.

He looked exactly the same as the last time he had seen him two years prior during the first tournament. He had the same pointed, white beard, bald head, wrinkled spotted face and kind eyes. He wore dark blue Xing Yi Quan uniform, he wondered if he ever wore anything else. The older man looked frail, but as far as Lee could remember it was how he had always looked and after seeing his performance in the tournament he had learned that it could not be further from the truth. His opponents had underestimated him and had paid the price.

"Come in, please," Lee motioned him inside, "our breakfast has just arrived." Once Jinrei entered the room Lee tipped the hotel employee before he left then walked over to the breakfast cart. "May I offer you tea?" He asked his guest.

"I was hoping for coffee," Jinrei said as he settled in a chair at the round, wooden table, "I always feel the need for some coffee after a flight."

Lee served two cups of coffee, placed them on saucers and set one in front of the older man then took a sip from the second before sitting in his chair.

"Would you care for some food?"

Jinrei shook his head. "My stomach feels unsettled," he said as he reached into an inner pocket of his shirt and pulled out a small silver flask then poured a generous amount of its contents into his coffee.

He offered him the flask once he was finished, Lee's eyes quickly darted to the clock on the bedside table but he immediately regretted it hoping that he had not seemed rude. "No, thank you," he said politely.

Jinrei chuckled as he sipped his coffee. "You young people think you are so liberal but you're afraid of a little liquid courage before five p.m."

"I have meetings all day today."

"The more reason to indulge." He offered the flask again. "How else do you expect to get through them?"

"No, thank you."

The older man shrugged and put the flask back in his pocket.

"Before we talk about why you came to see me," Lee began as he set his cup on the table, "I would like to know how you knew you'd find me here."

There had been a note waiting for Lee at the front desk the day prior, it read, I will be in the city tomorrow and need to speak with you about an urgent matter. Please make time to meet me at eight a.m. Jinrei had signed his name at the bottom. Lee was worried that Kazuya was investigating, trying to figure out what he was doing out of the country, that maybe he had intimidated Sayuri into telling him everything and would sabotage his plans somehow.

Jinrei sighed as he set his cup in front of him. "One of your investors is a good friend of mine, in fact, I am the one who convinced him to meet with you in the first place."

Lee felt a sudden disappointment, it weighed him down, he felt his shoulders droop and his brow furrow. He had thought that he himself had been responsible for his one and only success, to hear that it had all been due to Wang Jinrei was crushing.

"Now, I know how it sounds," the older man said holding up his hand, Lee realized that his disappointment was plain to see and immediately composed his demeanor, "but all I did was convince him to hear your proposal."

"I don't need charity," Lee somehow managed to keep the bitterness from his voice.

"Charity?" The older man laughed. "Do you think that your investors, being the wealthy and powerful men that they are, found themselves in that position by being charitable? By giving money to any young man who thinks he has a good idea? Do you think there are any riches to be made by granting old friends favors? No, they made their money and built their reputation by being wise, by investing in ideas and men that will make them even richer and more powerful."

Lee felt somewhat relieved. "How did you know I was looking for investors, I was being careful, that's part of the reason why it has been so difficult to find any."

"Coincidence, chance, good fortune, fate..." Jinrei shrugged. "Who knows? My friend mentioned that you had reached out to him, it had been years since we'd seen each other, but there we were at the same restaurant in Beijing, just by chance mind you, and since he knows that I fought in the last tournament just as you did, he mentioned you to me. He was reluctant to meet with you, your family's name does precede you, but I told him that you were different. He trusted me, met with you and whatever resulted from that, well... you did that on your own, young man."

"Thank you, Master..." Lee said as he bowed his head, he was not able to articulate anything else, it was the first time that anyone had put their faith in him. The first time that someone had recognized his talent and character without expecting anything in return.

"And what is this company that you are starting again?" Jinrei sipped his coffee then reached inside his shirt for the flask again then poured the rest of the contents into his cup. "My friend tried explaining it to me, but I just couldn't understand. Something about robots?"

Lee chuckled. "Well, we can't start with robots outright, not in the sense most people think, that is going to be a very long process, years worth of work. We are starting by focusing mainly on research, and to cover the costs and make a profit we will build and repair parts for industrial robots. But the long-term goal is to build a model that is indistinguishable from a human."

"...Building humans." Jinrei shook his head as he smiled. "When I was your age a can opener was the pinnacle of modern technology."

"Now that we have discussed this..." Lee set his cup on the table. "What made you fly from Beijing to see me?"

"I wasn't in Beijing, I was in Tokyo."

"I wish you had called me, I will be back in a couple of days, you didn't have to go through all that trouble to see me."

Jinrei sighed deeply as he set his empty cup down. "It is something that is best discussed away from prying eyes and ears."

"What is it, Master?" Lee asked as he straightened in his chair.

"What do you recall of the time when I lived on the Mishima Estate grounds?"

Lee smiled as he looked into his cup. "It was a relief to have someone who could speak Mandarin and who had enough patience to let me practice my terrible Japanese." He scoffed. "Even though Heihachi can speak perfect Mandarin he never uttered a word of it once we set foot in Japan, unless it was to make sure I knew why I was being punished."

Jinrei slowly shook his head. "He always believed that raising boys required a hard hand, that was where he and my dear friend Jinpachi disagreed the most. He was too hard on Kazuya... He was just a small boy, gentle, and Heihachi would always berate him, expect too much of someone so young... He was too harsh," he sighed. "Jinpachi would always interfere when things were getting out of hand, Kazuya's mother would too."

"What became of Kazuya's mother?" Lee asked, feeling curious and afraid at the same time.

In all his years of living at the Mishima Estate, no one had ever mentioned Kazuya's mother, it was strange, he had dared to ask Kazuya once when they were teenagers and all he received in response was a cold glare. There were no photographs of her anywhere in the house but he had found an old newspaper with Kazuya's birth announcement in the library once. She was beautiful and young, it was clear that Kazuya had gotten his looks from her side of the family.

"A disease took her, she was always ill and after Kazuya was born it only became worse."

"Didn't she have family who could take care of Kazuya? Didn't he have any blood relatives who knew what type of environment he was living in?"

"They tried," Jinrei reached into his shirt and pulled out another small flask, "he had a grandmother and an uncle, but Heihachi frightened them away, they had other loved ones to think about, to keep safe." He poured the contents from the flask into the now-empty coffee cup.

"What about Jinpachi, why didn't he interfere?"

"He was dead by then."

Lee asked the question that made his stomach turn into knots. "...Is it true that Heihachi killed him?"

Jinrei's shoulders visibly fell. "I have no hard evidence but...Jinpachi confided in me, told me that it may happen. You see he had already staged a coup, bribed key Zaibatsu board members with promises of power and wealth if they sided with him...and they did. And you know Heihachi, he always keeps his promises; he made himself quite a few loyal followers. He waited until after I retired, he knew he couldn't take us both on, Jinpachi and I together had too many followers, but Jinpachi alone..." He drank from his cup then looked up at Lee. "Very shortly after, my father became gravely ill so I flew to Beijing to be with him. He died on the very same day I arrived and I stayed to make the funeral arrangements and to make sure that everything was taken care of; I was gone for two weeks. When I returned to Tokyo my friend Jinpachi was dead and Kazuya was...different. Physically he was still a child, but all he did was train in the dojo out of his own free will, he didn't play or laugh anymore. And that scar on his chest..." There were tears in the older man's eyes. "If I had known what was to happen..."

"You can't blame yourself for that, Master," Lee said sincerely, a heavy silence followed and he felt the urge to break it. "I didn't know you were part of the Zaibatsu."

"That was two lifetimes ago, it was different then, nothing like it is now, corrupt, evil..." Jinrei sighed heavily as he looked up at Lee. "But perhaps it can be changed."

"How?"

"With you as its leader."

That was Lee's goal, to win the tournament as well as the Zaibatsu, but he had not expected Wang Jinrei to say what he did and was speechless.

"Have you registered for the tournament?" The older man asked.

"I have..." It was difficult to say what he was about to, to even admit it to himself. "But winning is not a guarantee..." He exhaled and crossed his arms over his chest as he fixed his eyes on the tabletop. "I'm here starting this company partially because it's my passion but also because... I need something to fall back on if I... If things don't go my way."

"That is smart."

He looked the older man in the eye, it was a testament of how much trust he put in him. "...At the last tournament, I was sure that I could beat Kazuya, I was certain. I was blind to the fact that he had been more diligent in his training, that he had spent years fighting opponents in real tournaments, I was... arrogant and made no arrangements, nothing, I had no idea that he was planning to take everything from me."

"...Arrogance..." Jinrei mused. "It is said to be the deadliest of sins and yet most of us find ourselves victim to its charms at one time or another. It is nothing to be ashamed of as long as we learn from our mistakes."

"Heihachi warned me about Kazuya," Lee said as he put both hands around his empty cup. "He saw a change in him when the tournament started, he was merciless... He told me that he thought Kazuya was going to try to kill him and take the Zaibatsu for himself, he told me that if that happened... That I had to get it back using any and all means necessary. But I didn't believe him. Then I woke up alone, in a hospital bed; Heihachi was dead, the New York branch of the Zaibatsu was closed and Kazuya had taken over."

That had been one of the most humbling experiences of his life, even more so than having been beaten into a coma by his own brother. He had been denied entry into the Mishima Building and had been made to set up an appointment in which Kazuya had given him thirty seconds to convince him to give him a position in the Zaibatsu. In the end, Kazuya had agreed to take him back because he needed him, he was losing too many clients and supporters and he knew that Lee was the only one who could bring them back or at least retain the ones he still had.

Lee chuckled slightly. "Any and all means, he meant killing my own brother... I just couldn't do it." He knew that he could never be the Mishima that Heihachi wanted him to be.

"My friend Jinpachi entrusted me with something similar." Jinrei suddenly looked exhausted. "He told me shortly before I left to see my father that he feared his own son would destroy him and that if that happened I should try to eliminate Heihachi for the good of the world as well as to restore honor to the Mishima Zaibatsu...I too could not do it."

"To restore honor?" Lee felt exhausted himself. "But is there honor in killing?"

"If it is justified... If it is for the good and welfare of others."

"It seems we were both assigned a heavy burden." Lee wished he could go to sleep and forget everything, it was weighing him down physically and emotionally.

"Perhaps by working together, we can make the burden a little lighter." Jinrei's words caught Lee's attention. "I too have registered for the tournament, that is the reason why I was in Tokyo, and also the reason why I wanted to meet with you."

"You entered the tournament?" Lee was concerned that Jinrei was too old for such an event but decided not to voice it for fear of being rude, there was also the fact that just two years prior he had performed better than most men in their twenties.

"We both have the same goal, to return the Zaibatsu to its honorable status in the world... If you and I should have to face each other we should fight the same way that we would fight any opponent standing in our way. If you win the right to fight Kazuya, well, that is what we want, but if I should fight him and win, I will immediately sign the Zaibatsu over to you."

"Master, I... It wouldn't be right."

"And what's right about someone my age inheriting all those responsibilities? I retired for a reason. I enjoy my life of tranquility and today you have proved to me that you are no longer the boy that you were two years ago, that you are a man, a leader, I have full faith in you, I believe that you can put the Zaibatsu on the rightful path once more."

"Thank you," Lee bowed his head, again feeling overwhelmed by the amount of trust that Jinrei was placing in him.

"It won't be easy," the older man admitted, "and we may still have Heihachi and Kazuya to contend with, even if one of us wins, they won't let it go without a fight, even if one of us wins it fairly."

By any and all means necessary. It seemed to be a phrase common to the Mishimas, even Jinpachi who was the best of them all, but perhaps he had been right, perhaps Wang Jinrei was right. There could be honor in killing, there could be honor in any and all means, as long as the cause was justified and the act was selfless. But that was what worried Lee, what if he found that he could kill his father or his brother? What if he did it because he wanted what had been his by right? What if he fooled himself and everyone else into believing that he was being righteous when what he truly wanted was revenge? What if he sat in that chair on the top floor and discovered that his lust for power was as great as that of any true Mishima? They were all questions for later, he decided, what he needed to do was focus on the task at hand and trust, hope that his intentions were pure.


A/N: August has been a terrible month for fanfiction writing in my house, I had planned to update twice, but here I am barely managing one. I hope you found it enjoyable. I have never done a flashback before, but it seemed right, I wanted to show a bit of the Mishima family dynamic before the first tournament so let me know if it worked or if it seemed jarring. Thank you for reviewing, for adding my story to your favorites and for reading. Again, I hope you enjoyed it. Don't hesitate to let me know what you think.