Sachi Gosetsuke: So, my excuse for lack of update, even though I have most of the chapters written? Well my computer is broken. It still is. And I am very, very frustrated because all the files in it will get deleted when the computer fixes. So no promises about any other updates, and I doubt that I'll be here for a while. And another thing that pisses the hell out of me: I don't have a spell checker here. So deepest, deepest apologies for the grammar and spelling! Cut me some slack please!

xjmaster: now, let's not get arrogant here...

Disclaimer: Asuka and any other Tekken characters you see are all property of Namco - except - the OCs and the story - but OC Kenichi is Psychoblue's.

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Ch. 4: Idol Images

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Pitter patter, pitter patter, went the rain as it hit the windows. The young girl sighed as she watched the rain drip down along the window sill.

It was expected to have a rainy afternoon in the middle of April - but it was down-right depressing when it did rain on the day of a soccer game. 9-year-old Asuka was looking forward to the game, and that morning when she saw rays of sunshine seep through her window curtains, she ran down stairs in her soccer jersey, elated and too eager to wait for the afternoon to come.

And when the clock chimed 2 o'clock, Asuka's ears were met with thunderstorm, and lightning flashed throughout the area...

Asuka flopped down on the couch on her back, her head hanging upside-down above the floor.

I must have done something to the weather man, she thought. Though she did occasionally yell outloud in front of the weather channel, it was either from praise or insult. The month of June brought whoops in triumph that Asuka would be able to go swimming that day. Last week she called the weather man a moron for cold weather.

If we have a thunderstorm on the day of the soccer tournament, I think I'll hang myself. 1

Clearly on mopy days, boreing days, depressing days, and bad days, Asuka's sarcasm level hits a high 15 on a scale of one to ten.

(A/N: Jeeze, I feel like turning on the radio to listen to the song "Bad Day.")

She sighed, and flipped onto her stomach to stare out the window.

"Asuka."

Carelessly, she turned her head to acknowledge her housekeeper and good friend, Mrs. Sanada. The 50-year-old woman stood at the doorway, arms folded, leaning against the doorframe.

"Just what do you think you're doing?"

Asuka turned back to the window.

"Tap dancing."

Mrs. Sanada clicked her tongue. "Ah, that's what you youngsters call "sarcasm." Well, while you stare out the window there, you should know that there are about a hundred things you could be doing right now."

Asuka looked at her with mock interest. "Such as?"

"Cleaning the attic."

Asuka winced. She hated cleaning. Whenever Mrs. Sanada saw her doing nothing and being lazy, she usually sent her to do some errands or give her chores to do. Errands, she didn't really mind much (it gave exuses to go from door to door, possibly a free oppurtunity to "visit" her rival); cleaning, she did. Especially if it involved places like the attic. She went inside there once, in hopes of finding her old roller blades. The attic was full of cobwebs, dust, and enough spiders and creepiness to share the world with. She felt like she had walked inside a horror movie.

"Now, you don't have to sweep there or anything," Mrs. Sanada said, "I just want you to sort out those boxes up in there."

Asuka resisted the urge to groan. Organization. Who needs it?

"Is it mandatory to do so?"

Mrs. Sanada smiled. "You are the only one here. Besides, I think you might find some stuff up there interesting.

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Asuka kneeled down the box. She had spent less than twenty minutes up inside the attic. She grinned as she knew that it was the last one.

Talk about spring cleaning.

As she kneeled beside it, she grimaced at her soccer shorts, noting all the dust it had gathered from the floor.

There's enough dust up here to quilt a blanket, she thought with disgust as she dusted herself for the millionth time.

Maybe after all this is done, I can-

She stopped in mid-thought when she opened up the box.

Inside were albums. Strange, unfamiliar, and very old ones that she had never seen before.

Her grin broaden. Cool, she thought, since she liked to look at albums.

She took out the first one carefully and brought it under the small ray of light the spilled through the small, rounded window Asuka liked to call the "porthole."

Carefully, she opened up the album to the first page, careful not to rip the old pages.

What she saw made her grin evaporate.

She was looking at baby pictures. It was a baby album, full of things like hair ribbons, pictures (of course), baby certificates, 1st birthday invatations, etc. She had seen her father's own baby album. It ran in the family to really decorate a baby's album with all sorts of things. And the one that she was looking at was exactly set up that way - only, she didn't know who the people were in the photos.

But the only thing that made her so curious, so mystified and spellbound about the baby was the familiarity in her...her dark brown eyes...her face...everything, including her smile.

If Asuka didn't know any better, the baby looked like her when she was little.

Asuka shook her head. Impossible.

After inspecting it, she put it aside and turned to the next album. The next one consisted of a young girl - the same baby girl, only now she was grown up. Again, the album showed the same creativity as her own family's - first lost baby teeth, school certificates, class pictures, hair ribbons, and of course, the same endless supply of pictures. As she looked deeper into the photo, she began to recognize some of the people - such as her father's parents, who died way before she was born, kept appearing over and over again. Her own father as a teenager appeared a couple of times with the girl too. And durring several group photos, she saw her father's aunt and uncle in them too. She met her great-aunt in real life when she was little - however, she died when Asuka was seven. Her great-uncle, however, she only knew in photos.

Asuka was mystifed once more. Who was that girl, who looked like her when she was little?

Asuka tried to read some of the certificates and class pictures, but the writing was obviously typed on a typewriter, and it was so old and faded.

When Asuka reached the last few pictures of the girl, the girl was already around her own age. And in her mind, Asuka imagined to look at a mirror to see her relfection - and she compared that image to the mysterious young girl. They looked almost exactly alike with a few misconceptions.

As Asuka began to look at the other photoalbums, she realized that all the albums inside the box consisted of that one girl. And as she poured over them, the girl began to grow older.

She had reached her fourth album when the door to the attic opened, and Asuka was pulled back to reality.

She turned to see her father.

She put down the album.

"Otousan?"

He looked puzzled, and seemed like he had just walked in on a crime scene. He kept looking at her, and to the albums and box, and vice-versa.

"Otousan...I was just cleaning out the attic like Mrs. Sanada told me to...I didn't mean to snoop..." Suddenly, she felt like how she had been snooping through her father's office last year on her birthday, trying to find her birthday gift and instead found her mother's necklace, and her father had walked in.

Nervously, she looked away from his gaze and played with her necklace.

Slowly, her father kneeled down beside her and took the album from her. Asuka turned back to him, and was startled to find the beginings of tears forming behind his eyes. Shocked, she became flusterd and began to apoligise.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean anything! Please don't cry, I-!"

But to her surprise, he smiled. "Asuka," he said, his voice soft and leveled, yet heavy with emotion, "Do you know who that young girl is?'

Worlessly, she shook her head.

His smiled never wavered and he took out another album from inside the box. "That woman, is a famous relative of yours. Her name is Jun Kazama."

"Jun...what makes her special?"

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For the past hour, the two of them have been looking through the albums inside the box, and her father explained to her who Jun Kazama was. Jun happened to be a "goddess" in her family...

Never had anyone met a heart more pure than hers...any man who laid eyes on her fell in love immiediatly. She had a strong sense of right and wrong - much like you, Asuka. Jun was able to see the beauty within others, even if they could not see it within themselves.

Jun had became an officer of the WWWC - Worldwide Wildlife Conservation - a wildlife officer. She was only 17 years old when she made it to the 3WC Junior Division - and she was only 19 when she made it to become an officer. And at age 22, she became the top opperative of the 3WC.

Jun had been a great martial artist, having mastered judo and aikido at a young age. And she was even able to complete the Kazama-ryu quickly. She was the best Kazama-ryu fighter in the family.

One of her most famous missions was entering the Tekken Iron Fist Tournament. She was on an assingment to investigate the notorious Mishima Zaibatsu's rare animal expierments. It was said that she had gone very far throughout the tournament - however, no one knew if she had succeeded in her mission or not.

"No one knew?" Asuka asked.

Her father shook his head. "Nope," he said, and he hesitantly added, "You see...no one saw her ever again after she entered that tournament."

Asuka gasped softly. "Did she die?"

He smiled. "No...I don't think so. Jun always loved nature, you see. That was why she became a conservation officer. But I think, that she just wasn't able to complete her mission, and that she retired to...somewhere...beautiful. Some forest, isolated from the city. Jun always did say she wanted to do that one day...maybe have a family there..."

"Did you know her?" Asuka asked.

Her father sighed wearily. "No," he said slowly, "I never was fortunate enough to get to know her. We were...distant cousins I believe. However, we both grew up in Yakushima Forest, though not together."

"And I believe," he said with a smile, "That Jun's there, in Yakushima, still alive."

Asuka was silent for a moment, awe-strucked. Then she grinned. "When I grow up," she said, "I'm gonna become like Jun Kazama, 3WC top officer! And I'm gonna go to Yakushima, and find her myself!"

"And then," she continued excitedly, "I'll travel the world just like her! And save the forests and the animals! And maybe...maybe I'll complete her mission for her!"

Her father smiled. "You do that," he said. Then he added, a littled wistfull, "She would have liked you, that Jun Kazama...you look a lot like her...you even act a little like her at times...when your not getting into trouble."

Asuka giggled at his last comment. "Is there any more pictures of Jun? Any recent ones? I think Jun is really pretty."

He smiled. "Yes," he said, "I have plenty of them in my office."

By the end of the day, Asuka had decorated her room with some of Jun's pictures. On her wall, was a framed picture of Jun, sitting on a tree. Jun looked about 9 years old like Asuka. Next to that picture frame, was another picture, a recent one, exactly the same size, only different. It was Asuka, sitting on a tree also, sitting exactly the way Jun was. Looking at the two pictures, it seemed almost like a double-image.

Asuka flopped onto her stomach on her bed, staring at the pictures. And she smiled.

One day, she was going to become just like Jun Kazama.

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As I grew up, I looked up to Jun Kazama, seeing her as my childhood idol. Everything about her - I wanted to be exactly like her. Sometimes, whenever I got into trouble, I usually envied Jun for her "perfection." At times I sometimes imagine her to be the mother I never had. Once, I was tempted to ask my uncle if Jun really was my mother - but then I would quickly dismiss that thought, thinking it was too far-fetched, and impossible, and I wasn't lucky enough.

I still have those two pictures...and also two more near them. Me, standing at the shores of a beach, in a small, elegant yet casual white dress, matching sandals in hand. Next to the frame, exact size was Jun in a similar dress, standing at the shores of a lake, sandals in hand.

And even to this day, I still keep that vow to myself - to become exactly like my mother.

Sachi Gosetsuke: This chapter was a bit boreing, huh? Well, you can't blame me - I've lost my writer's "fling" after my computer crashed. Well, I just turned on the radio - no "Bad Day," but there's "I Write Sins Not Tragedies" by Panic! At The Disco (dances in her seat).

1 yes, yes, she does seem a but mature and sarcastic for a nine-year-old - but it does suit her, no?