Sorrow still remains.

I'm staring at the ceiling blankly, unsure of what to think. One by one, we're being killed. As our forces dwindle, so does our hope, and nobody has a way of reinstating it. We're all too glum and depressed to even think of a way to attack Kazama and the Empire. We're suffering slowly, piece by piece, being buried by our grief, the burdens we've placed upon ourselves, the war, life itself… Just… everything, you know?

I'm starting to think that maybe this isn't possible. Maybe we can't overthrow him. Maybe everything we've ever thought and dreamed of is just exactly that – a stupid dream that we would've been really happy to see happen. If I think about it realistically, this entire thing is just pointless and stupid. We're a grand, massive and impressive total of four people. Four, from what used to be seven only what, a few weeks ago? Four, from what used to be twelve? Four, from what used to be twenty-eight?Twenty-eight from what used to be fifty-seven?

I remember telling the others about the youth's suicidal defiance. Lei shook his head and held his head in his hands, muttering 'no no no no, it's all wrong, this is all going wrong'. He then grabbed a bottle of alcohol and actually left the whole hideout to drink in a quiet place. I dunno where, but I'm worried about him because I've never seen him act like this before. I think he's worried about what will happen to the rest of us, and, aside from grieving, can't believe what's happening to his beautiful Resistance.

Asuka cried. Yeah, she cried. Her tears stung me. I care a lot about her. It hurts to see her this way. It's not breaking my heart or anything but, behind that vigilante, underneath that tough girl exterior, she's really affectionate. She was so close to her, like I was. We'd both known her for ages, me more so than her, but since joining the Resistance, she'd been spending more time with her. When she heard the news, Asuka left for the arcade to try and distract herself.

As for you… Your eyes were dead and unblinking, again. I expected that from you, but I didn't expect you to stare at me as though I suddenly had a giant zit on my forehead, or an alien sucking my brain out of my nose. I think you were worried about me, I'm not sure. I've clearly been unstable since witnessing what I saw. Yeah I'm used to death and all, but, I'm not used to seeing a suicide. Murder, sure. Suicide? No. Just… no. How can someone feel that way? If I was in her shoes, I can honestly say that I wouldn't have done it. As for where you've gone, I don't know. I was the one who left afterwards. I went upstairs.

It feels like I've being lying here forever. Just lying here, staring at the ceiling, and alone to reminisce on the events of the past few weeks. I think it's been two months now, maybe more. Two months since the seven strongest started to sink. Two months since Baek died, two months since you arrived. So much has changed in my world in the time that's passed that it's just insane.

The water pulls me down. It swallows me whole and I close my eyes and hold my breath. The water is comforting, cool and carefree. It glides over me, washing away my stress and my hate, sadness and anger. I can't allow that to control me, so I let the water take it away from me. It's allowed to glide and flow around its ceramic confinement, boundlessly drifting around the walls, but not touching me, because I won't let it. If I lose control, I lose everything and become the shadow of a man. A shadow of myself, trying to find solace in liquid.

I'm trying to find the enemy within. I can feel it crawl beneath my skin, and I want to dig it out, stop it from itching and chaining me, and stomp on it repeatedly. That enemy is uncertainty, its subordinate is caution, and their weapon is fear. I don't want to be a victim of fear. Fear has no purpose and no place in my body, mind, heart or soul. It's okay to be afraid, but I don't want to be, because I could be exploited in the eyes of the enemy, and that is as bad as torture.

The burning in my lungs proves to be too strong to ignore. I push myself back up, water flying everywhere, and inhale. Oxygen fills my body, and water streams down my face. It weighs down my hair, and I reach up and wipe the annoying droplets from my eyes and look to the tiled, beige walls opposite me. Gotta keep calm here, I really, really do. The others aren't coping well with what's going on, so I've gotta be the responsible one and keep them together, if only for a while. At least until Lei's alright again, then he can become the rock.

I feel a little better from my self-devised therapeutic session. Stepping from the bathtub, I grab the towel next to me and poorly dry myself off and put my jeans back on. I lean in again and stuff my hand underneath the water, pulling the plug, and as the water spirals down the drain, dragging all my negative emotions down with it. The things that weighed me down, like the water that's holding onto my hair, won't stay with me, because I won't let them. I can't afford to.

There's a knock at the door, and then it slowly creaks open. I look away from the water to see you standing there, shocked to see me there without my shirt on. You blush and look to the ground, sliding in, "I've been looking for you. I thought you left with the others… What are you doing in here?"

My gaze has long since turned from your beautiful face, and it's focusing on the last of the spinning liquid, the last of my sorrows, willing it all away. I speak lowly, "I'm watching water go around in circles and down a drain."

"…Why?"

I shrug, "Cleansing."

"You're watching water go down a drain for 'cleansing'…?"

"Ye-es?"

To my surprise, you smile at me and pat my back. Your hand is warm, "I didn't think you, of all people, would even think of such a thing. You have quite an intricate, creative and positive mind, there. Clever, even."

"You scar me," I joke, in reference to the 'clever' part. You basically think I'm stupid. Thanks.

Surprised to find myself rather annoyed at such a comment, I slip from your grasp, toss on my nearby black wife beater shirt, and head back downstairs, escaping the light of the home and returning to the underground dwellings. Lei and Asuka still haven't returned, so it just leaves me and you. It's only when I'm back in the main meeting room do I realise that aforementioned 'cleansing' really did fuck all. Still kinda nervy here. Not such a good thing.

"You're scared," you state.

"No," I drawl.

"Yes you are."

"Leave me alone."

You click your tongue and nod, approaching me until you're right in front of me. Your voice is certain and sure – it's like you've found some type of new treasure, "You're scared of what's going to happen next. Her suicide really jolted you, and so, you're wondering how long it'll take before one of us cracks under the same pressure… and leave you alone again."

There's some type of noise in the back of my throat, like a dismissive claim, or a frustrated hiss; I don't know how you picked that up. Just because I've been terrified of being alone as a child doesn't mean it still runs through to today – but God knows that I'm still not a fan of it, "I'm not scared."

"It's okay to be scared."

"I know that," I growl, before trying to sidestep around you. Of course, you won't let that happen. You mirror my every footstep, even though I'm clearly getting annoyed and fed up with your current and unusual inquisitiveness, "Look, I know you're only looking out for me, but right now, I just wanna be alone. She was my friend, she has been for a while, so just being there when it happened and seeing it for myself has really rattled me."

"You are lying to me."

I…

Your voice is short – you're frustrated, but understanding, "You are lying to me so that I don't worry."

…don't really wanna be alone right now.

If it wasn't for the fact that I like you – well, really like you – well, a lot – I would've probably gotten really hissy and growled at you, saying how you were wrong, and then make up some awesome speech to get me out of this predicament. As it is, you can see what I'm feeling, and, as I am right now, that's something I don't like at all, "Lying to you and covering up the truth are two very different things. And I'm not just lying to you," I throw my hands up and turn to lean against the nearest wall, patting my body down, before realising that I'm fresh out of cigarettes, "Fuck, I need a smoke."

"But you are still withholding information so I do not worry," At this, you lean against the opposite wall, hands behind your back, curling into one another a little. There's an expression on your face that I don't quite understand, and whatever I can see, it's hidden behind a silver mask, one that you hold ridiculously close to your face. Can you even breathe? Does it cover up the wounds you can't hide? "And so that you yourself don't worry."

"You're clever," I bite out, echoing your words from earlier.

"I am merely stating the truth."

"Yeah, well, maybe I don't want to talk about it," I growl, pushing myself off of the wall and walking away from you, moving backwards so that I can still see you, "Maybe I just want to be left alone right now so I can try and sort myself out. Maybe I just can't handle the truth in this very instant because it fucking hurts, and I'm sick of hurting. I'm just so fucking sick of hurting."

"Aren't we all," you retaliate, clenching your fists – and for a few moments, you think I don't notice, even as I stop walking and just look at you. You think I don't notice how your voice has shrunk back and become faint, or how your eyes are narrowing and blinking at a faster rate, or how you're seemingly falling into yourself against the wall, or how the little breaths you take are becoming shallower and shallower, like you're trying to bury a memory. There's something crawling underneath your skin– a venomous itch that's both addictive and repulsive as the lights fade and you remember how they screamed.

It eats away at your mind and your heart and your soul. It slithers through your veins, fuelling you to do this. Fuelling this hatred for Jin Kazama and for all he has done. But you didn't know where to start, did you? You searched for us because you had nowhere else to turn. You knew you couldn't make a difference alone, but you didn't want to sit still like so many others around you. You were looking for something similar to a family. For friends. Just for someone to share your vision – someone who had the guts to do it.

You were looking for a mirror.

You were looking for someone who felt the same pain as you did, amongst all of those others in the world. Amidst the sea of pain, you chose us. You followed the hopeless and shut your eyes. You took to the abandoned, where none will shine, because we are all dead inside. You went into the nothing. Faded and weary, you did what you thought was best – and now, you're not so sure anymore. And I can't say I blame you.

But you are here because you know pain. You don't want sympathy. You don't want any of that shit – no 'Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss', no fake smiles and plastic fingernails combing through your long hair to try and soothe you. You don't want someone else taking off your glasses and wiping away the tears from your eyes – you are a wall of emotions, one that you don't dare lower or allow others to climb over. You don't want someone to sing the anthem of the angels. You don't want to say your last goodbye.

You just want someone to understand.

"Who did you lose?" I murmur.

"My Mother."

"Tell me how you felt."

You cast something cross between a sorrowful look and a hazy glare at me, before closing your eyes and trying to steady your breathing. You're hashing up something that's so close to the surface, but your hands are still shaky as you pry apart the Earth and collect what you find, "It felt like… a burning, hot blade striking through my very being… but it was nothing like the fire that burned around my home, my Mother's body, and around all of my people. It swallowed everything, like the unforgiving sea. I don't know how fast I ran… or how much I cried… But all I feel now in this hollow shell is hate for Jin Kazama and what he has done not only to the world, but now personally to me. I have nothing left in this life – only this emotion."

"Tell me what you want."

"I want Jin Kazama dead," you seethe.

"And what will you do after that?"

You hold onto the comfortable silence. You hold onto it because you don't know. What will happen once you give away the last of yourself? This hatred? You'll be nothing again, and you don't even know if you want that. You'll have no life. You'll have nothing to pour all of yourself into, to fight for or against, to protect or kill, to laugh with or cry for.

"So nothing, basically. You're just gonna pick yourself back up, dust yourself off and say goodbye."

You shrug and pull some loose hair behind your ear. It pops back out, but you don't notice because you are so engaged in the conversation. My coming footsteps alert you to the fact that I'm coming closer, and you seem to collapse further into yourself again when you see me standing in front of you, and when you realise that even if we're successful in overthrowing Kazama, your life will be just as meaningless as it was beforehand, "Yes."

"You're gonna just sit all by yourself on this Earth and watch the trees grow and the clouds go by. You're gonna pull up that wall of yours, pull it closer to yourself, shut the world away and make it known that you will never be broken or ripped apart from the inside out again. You are more than willing to become lost once again. To be the lost one."

"You don't understand," you growl. You're almost like a child.

"Don't you ever say that to me again," I hiss, "because we all understand how you're feeling. I've lost things too. I myself am lost. I lost my parents as a child. I lost my Master a few weeks ago because of this stupid motherfucker. I've been losing friends left, right and centre – but I don't sit there and let the hatred for Kazama, my rival for numerous years, build up. Because I know once I'm done here, I'll be a shadow of the man I was, nothing less. I'll have nothing left to hold onto.

"I might be lost, but I know what I want to do – I wanna live. That's what I'm fighting for. I'm fighting for life. When life begins again, I want to hold onto something good. I don't want them to have died in vain. Nobody deserves to have died in vain. Not Baek, not the others, and not your Mother. They found where forever dies – but it's not your time to find it yet, either. Even if it dies as you live in a lonely world."

You're voiceless.

"Please," I murmur, tucking your hair behind your ear again, "Find something good. Find something good and hold onto it."

It takes me by surprise when you lightly reach up and touch my arm, and it causes me to freeze up. Your hands are shaking, and I'm soon finding myself to be as voiceless as you were only moments ago. The soft skin snakes up my arm, passing my shoulder and my neck, before settling on the side of my face. It's so enticing. Just… feeling something soft in this hard and brutal world… it almost feels foreign, because it's been so long. It inflames my inside, giving them life like they'd never felt before, but could vaguely recognise its cousin somewhere in the back of my head.

I'm unable to do anything but close my eyes in this weakness.

You remind me of my Mother's touch, however long ago that was. Soft. Gentle. Firm. Caring, even – but all things good. Your sternness reminds me of my Father's, because it's so deeply rooted in your system, and it's just the way you are. Your fingers drape down my cheek once – twice – three times, before moving to my lips, running over them delicately. You're taking the time to take my breath. It's this action that causes my eyes to snap open and stare at you, wondering if your lips are as petal-soft as your fingers feel.

It takes a few seconds before I succumb to my curiosity and kiss you.

They're softer. They're sweeter. Kinda like honey.

Your arms come around me – heaven's arms – and I suddenly feel safe, even as I pull back and rest my forehead against yours. Words uncontrollably spill forth. I didn't even know I felt this way until they came, "You're my 'something good', the something I want to keep and hold onto throughout this whole thing, and even after it's finally over. I will always be here for the rest of my life."

"However long your life may be," you say with a hint of humour in your voice.

"No longer the lost," I murmur to you.

"No longer the saved," you whisper back, a hand in my hair.

I close my eyes.