Heihachi was sitting in his office in the mansion. Everything about him was a tasteful, dark mahogany. He kept a large display cabinet immediately to the right as people entered that was filled with various accolades: photographs of important personages shaking his hand, honorary degrees, trophies, certificates, framed notes of personal thanks from various heads of state. He liked to think of it as a form of silent intimidation, worming himself into the minds of others before they'd even seated themselves. It wasn't just about showing off, it was about making his guest feel inferior. The ideal guest was one who felt humbled and honoured to be in his presence, and already malleable in his hands and amenable to his desires.
Other than the intimidation cabinet, there was also an enormous two-metre-wide oil painting of a tiger, prowling in a jungle, stripes almost lost in amidst the vibrant undergrowth, but eyes piercing, and fangs bared. This, he kept directly behind where his guest would be seated, so that they always felt watched and stalked, whether they looked at him or behind at the tiger. The décor behind himself was a historic daisho, mounted to the wall and once worn by samurai of the Mishima family. Various ancient, framed writs were hung beneath this, in case any should forget the centuries of aristocratic power that stood behind the man before them. The final wall was thrown open onto a veranda and gave a picture-perfect view out onto the zen gardens, framed by manicured gardens beyond.
Today though, he did not have a business guest, but his grandson. Jin had knocked some three minutes before, but Heihachi was in no mood to immediately indulge him. He summoned him in now though with a word.
Jin entered warily. He bowed low to his grandfather, then glanced around at the office. This was a place of business and Jin had had little cause to enter it before. Heihachi watched him now as his eyes roved over the room, travelling sequentially in the pattern Heihachi had crafted.
Jin's glance barely registered the intimidation cabinet, Heihachi was irritated to see. The boy certainly hadn't looked long enough to note anything beyond its glass panes. He dismissed the swords on the wall too, with his eyes lingering instead on the gardens. Finally, he saw the painting.
"Oh! What a beautiful painting! It's like the tiger could jump straight out!"
Jin forgot all decorum and went to stand under the picture, gazing up at the beast. Heihachi was silent. Jin was silent too. He stood still, just looking at the picture for a good few seconds before Heihachi clicked irritably with his tongue.
Jin awoke from his reverie and quickly sat in the seat before his grandfather's desk. He glanced briefly behind at the picture one more time and smiled, before turning his attention to Heihachi.
Heihachi's gaze bore into him.
"I received a phonecall from the school." The boy at least looked suitably cowed now that the topic had been breached. "They say the classes are too advanced for you. They want to put you in a lower year group."
"I- I was good yesterday though, Ojiisama. I was good at physical education, and art, and home economics and-"
"You think I care about that!" Heihachi slammed a hand down on the desk, making an inkwell and half a dozen stamps shudder.
Jin flinched and went pale. His eyes hung on Heihachi, brimming with distress.
"I should think you certainly are better at physical education, otherwise we might as well exchange my tutelage for any run-of-the-mill gym teacher! What do I want with art?! What has that ever done for anyone?! Will the Zaibatsu legacy be contingent on you drawing a few sketches?! Home economics?! What even is that?! You certainly have no business learning skills that a servant ought to be doing!"
Jin looked like he was about to cry. That only made Heihachi more incensed. Heihachi counted out lessons on his fingers:
"Mathematics, science, Japanese, English, social studies - these are subjects that matter, Kazama Jin, and yet you made a laughingstock of my household by handing in empty sheets of paper to these classes! A good thing I let you keep that Kazama name, you'd only besmirch the Mishima one!"
The tears building at Jin's lashes tumbled over to course down his cheeks.
"What did I tell you about crying under this roof?!"
Jin wiped at his cheeks quickly.
"And now what?!" Heihachi continued. "Must I put my dunce grandson down some years because he doesn't know how to count?! A fine way to reflect on the founder of the school!"
Jin was trembling like a leaf. He looked up at Heihachi with tears still clinging to the corners of his eyes, but with determination burning in his gaze.
"I-I will learn to make you proud, Ojiisama. I can count, I can do maths, and I'll show you I can do the rest too. I just need some time. I'm dedicated to everything I put my heart into. I can do it, I promise you!"
Heihachi regarded him sourly. That genuine determination was rounding off the hard edges of his temper though. It was hard to stay angry with Jin. He didn't scowl or simper like Heihachi's sons might have. Heihachi waved a hand dismissively.
"I shall put you down however many years the school administration recommends, there's no point you being there unless you can learn something useful. Don't bother going today. I have administrative matters to take care of, and I don't want you wasting time in lessons that are beyond you."
Jin bowed, apparently taking that graciously.
"Get out. Go and train."
Jin bowed again but remained seated. Heihachi looked at him through lidded eyes, displeasure evident.
"What?" he asked.
Jin bowed again. "Please, Ojiisama, I… saw a map in one of the rooms on the estate… I saw that there is a temple in the mountains north of here. Might I have your leave to be driven to visit it?"
"There's a temple on the Mishima Estate. Use that."
"Y-yes, Ojiisama, but this one is up in the mountains. Mountains are quite important to me…"
"We have mountains at home. Walk up those if you want, but you better be home for dinner."
"Y-yes, Ojiisama. But I wondered if I could attend this temple in the mountains in particular?"
"The one north west of here?"
"Yes, Ojiisama."
"It is a Shinto shrine."
"Yes, Ojiisama."
The matter was closed to Heihachi, but Jin seemed to still sit there, waiting for something further. The two faiths were quite distinct in Heihachi's mind and he had little interest in fostering Jin's apparent intermingling of the two. Heihachi glowered at him. Jin shrunk under the attention.
"Go pray in the dojo that you improve at karate so that you're good at something."
Heihachi wasn't quite prepared for the open hurt that blinked onto the boy's face. Jin glanced away, lower lip quivering. He nodded quickly, then bowed and stood. He backed away to the door, bowed again and left.
Heihachi scratched his head. Kazuya would have snapped some smart comment back at him. Chaolan would have been hurt, but he'd have hid it instantly, lowering his eyes and giving some demure response. His sons had self-preservation instincts and the social wherewithal to weather through Heihachi's more biting remarks. Jin just… Heihachi kneaded his thumb into his temple. Jin was just so crushed every time his deficiencies were pointed out. He thrived on Heihachi's praise and attention and was rocked to his limits when criticised. He'd just have to harden him up. The boy wouldn't survive in the world with such a sensitive demeanour.
Still… Heihachi didn't like this feeling Jin gave him. There was this guilt he felt around him. This lingering sense that he ought to play gentler with this fragile creature. Heihachi scowled. His reputation would already take a hit from Jin's lack of schooling, he didn't have to have the boy making a mockery of his teachings elsewhere too. Jin would just have to mature faster.
Heihachi spent the morning outlining his desires for Jin's educational path to the school office and coming to an arrangement that would hopefully be a more productive use of the child's time. After that, he took calls for an hour, directing future business ventures, then took a light lunch before strolling over to the dojo. He found Jin in the dojo grounds in horse stance, practising strikes into a large bucket of sand. Heihachi watched him, looking for mistakes in his technique. There were none, he was pleased to see. Jin's repetitions were careful, identical, and each executed well. He nodded to himself. The boy didn't have much else going for him, but Heihachi could see real potential here. Jin was still raw material, but he could be forged into something formidable.
"Jin!" Heihachi called.
Jin nearly jumped out of his skin. He pushed a sweat slicked fringe out of his face, then came and bowed to Heihachi.
"Good work." The boy's face lit like the sun and a smile brightened his eyes. Heihachi felt that strange tug in his chest again. "Finish what you're doing then shower and have lunch. Come to my office when you're done, I have something to show you."
Shortly, Heihachi was blowing dust off an old projector. He fiddled around with it until its fan clicked on and it whirred into action. He adjusted it so that its picture filled the whole of a plain paper wall. He turned to a cardboard box and began leafing through the tapes in there. Presently, Jin joined him.
"Ah, have you eaten?" Heihachi asked him. Jin nodded. "Come over here. Do you watch much television?"
Jin's face dropped a shade of confidence.
"No, Ojiisama… I did not have one growing up."
"Ah, neither did I. And I don't really fancy it now – a waste of time. I bought one for dear Kuma though to keep him entertained. But I have here a projector and – do you know what this is?"
Jin didn't answer immediately. He looked at the machine in question, then went round the front to look at it from that angle. He touched it, and pushed open a small flap at its front. He looked in the carboard box, then back at the machine.
"This is a VHS player."
"Mm, that's right. Now, when I was growing up, my father always said, you can only learn martial arts from a master. There was this big trend starting – making recordings so that others could learn from the videos. It was very frowned upon by many great teachers. And with good reason – you cannot learn without a teacher. But that doesn't mean that videos cannot be useful."
Jin's eyes were alight with interest. He ran his hand over the tapes.
"Are these martial arts tapes?"
"Mm. This is footage from the second King of Iron Fist Tournament."
Heihachi saw the boy freeze rigid. His expression grew strange. Heihachi had selected tapes just of his own matches and excluded any that included footage of his wayward sons. No need for Jin to start getting ideas learning from such rebellious ingrates.
"Bwhahaha, that devil son of mine made me go through the whole tournament like some common competitor. The good news for you though is that that means there's footage for you to watch. You can see these moves against some real martial artists."
Jin unpaused from where his face had just kind of stopped, and looked up at him.
"I would like that."
Heihachi had only intended to put a tape on for the boy and show him how the machine worked, but he wound up sitting down on a cushion next to him as the grainy footage flickered on.
"Know who that is?"
Jin shook his head.
"That's Marshall Law. They call him the second Bruce Lee, the legendary dragon who has returned. Someone was so worried by this man's potential that there was an international operation to wreck his dojo and reputation."
Jin shuffled on his seat, excited, and propped up his head on his hands.
Heihachi watched as a grainy version of himself strode out into the arena. The crowds, which had been roaring, went deadly quiet.
"They all thought I was dead," Heihachi explained, waving a hand dismissively. "Now look at this – see that uppercut? Being aggressive doesn't mean there isn't space for patience."
"You waited for him to launch that kick then blocked and stepped in… You're relentless once you start…"
"Never drop an advantage."
They sat together for most of the afternoon, with Heihachi rewinding the tapes to better explain a move in detail. They were so engaged in discussion that Heihachi lost track of time. When he stopped to draw out a pocket watch, he realised Jin's posture finally looked relaxed and comfortable. Heihachi stacked a set of VHS tapes on the side of the table near the projector, and patted them.
"Come in here any time you like and rewatch these," he told Jin.
Heihachi folded the box with the remaining tapes back up. He saw Jin's eyes lingering on them. Heihachi slid open a cupboard and set the box inside. He closed the door deliberately. Jin's eyes were on the cupboard. Heihachi motioned towards the tapes on the table. Jin seemed to remember himself. He bowed his head.
"Yes, Ojiisama."
Heihachi sat himself back down and stretched. He flicked off the projector. The room plunged into darkness. Jin got up and turned on the lights, then came back to kneel next to his grandfather. Heihachi stroked his moustache, just observing the boy and thinking.
"Hm! Well, there you go, an afternoon spent watching television. I'm sure your great-grandfather will be turning in his grave!"
Jin frowned. "Why? It is not like the videos alone are how I'm learning. It is alongside proper tuition."
"Hah! That's just the way he was. He never believed any kind of innovation was useful. 'Don't fix what's not broken'. I'm surprised he even managed to create a composite martial art with an attitude like that."
"But surely he wouldn't have objected to watching the fights live and finding something useful in that? Why is watching a recording any different?"
"Why indeed! 'Don't ask questions', 'do as your told', 'this is the way it's always been done'. I tell you, you just count yourself lucky you have such a forward thinking grandfather! If I see innovation, I recognise its potential. Even if he's some boy off a tropical island who's never read a book before!"
Jin opened his mouth, then closed his mouth. He gave a shy, tentative smile.
Heihachi continued on, thoughtful. "When I first gave you a gi to change into, a black belt was with it. I gave you nothing else, yet you came to the dojo in white belt."
"Yes, Ojiisama."
"How long would you say you practised martial arts on Yakushima?"
The boy hesitated, then gave, "Since as long as I can remember. As soon as I could walk I was learning Kazama Ryu."
"So over ten years. It wouldn't be undue for you to put that belt on then. Why did you choose not to?"
Jin fell quiet. Heihachi could hear an old, handcrafted clock in the next room ticking.
"It is disrespectful to come to learn from you with a belt that already says I am accomplished. I came to learn something new. My Kazama Ryu was not enough, so I am learning from you. I will learn with a white belt, and, over the years, it will absorb my strength and ki, and the sweat and dirt. I want it to turn black from hard work, like they say it did in the old days."
Heihachi was still thinking on those words when he took supper later. He had work he wanted to catch up on, and was eating in his study. The tray he'd been given was laden with red bowls with gleaming black interiors piled high with steaming delicacies. He'd asked not to be disturbed for the next few hours, but his head wasn't on the reports he was reading. He was thinking of Kazama Jin who looked for the harder path to take, and who held himself to a standard of excellence even when no one was watching.
Heihachi looked up at the tiger painting that Jin had only seen wonder in. Even though the boy was far too sensitive, absent of etiquette and class, and lacking in academic education, there was a quiet resolve to him that intrigued Heihachi. He wasn't sure he'd ever met anyone quite like that before. He'd met a lot of people in his time. A lot. Maybe Kazuya's tenacity came close to this, but Kazuya had burned with a hatred that fuelled him for twenty long years. Jin existed in sorrow, but his strength was older than his grief. He was someone who, paradoxically, had a great deal of confidence in his own path and beliefs. Despite his constant need for affirmation, he was someone rounded and complete in a way that neither of Heihachi's sons ever were. In a way that he himself perhaps wasn't.
Jin didn't look at the painted tiger and see a threat. Maybe that was stupidity, but the way Jin saw the world let him navigate it in a way that fascinated Heihachi. He didn't like it in the slightest. It made Jin hard to control, and his desires hard to manipulate. Time would change that though. It was only a matter of time before Jin came to realise that his rose-tinted view of the world was an illusion that wasn't done shattering. Still, it was fascinating none-the-less. Like observing an extremely rare creature that has wandered onto one's property – one that all the laws of science claimed could not survive and was due an early extinction.
Heihachi stood and stretched. Perhaps a stroll would help set his mind to rights.
Long, purple shadows were gathering in the mansion. Lanterns lit on the verandas shone through to light up scenes painted on fusuma walls, and everywhere the accompanying throb of cicadas. A low rumbling was coming from the second dining room. Heihachi opened it to see his pet bear sprawled out on the floor. Kuma's enormous bulk was rising and falling as he slept. Each breath he exhaled heaved a grumble and set the crockery trembling. Heihachi slid shut the door.
A light was gleaming from further down the corridor. It was an unusual, flickering blue. Heihachi headed toward it. It was coming from the projector room. Heihachi inched the door open a crack. The first thing he saw was that the far cupboard was open, and the cardboard box semi tipped out of it. A swell of anger rose within him. He nudged the door open a little more. Jin was kneeling, watching a projected video. He was reaching toward the image, but the light caught on his hand, causing a void of darkness to blot out the figures on screen. He withdrew his hand, but his posture remained leant forward, urgent.
Heihachi glanced at the film. The American fighter, Paul Phoenix, veteran of the first tournament was up there – instantly recognisable in a red gi and his high flat top blond hair. Whoever he was fighting was slighter, smaller. Heihachi narrowed his eyes to get a better look. He recognised the stance more than anything – from his own dojo no less. Jin had stood before him with his hands out like this, a stance favoured by aikido practitioners. Then that would make that fighter…
Heihachi watched for a few moments more. The eternal reach of Jin's hand for his mother – and the answering darkness cast by his own shadow.
Heihachi slid shut the door without saying anything, and left.