Chapter 31: A Fight to Remember

This time it was America he was off to. It was a rather prominent tournament, but Kazuya wasn't overly concerned. He had been to other tournaments of such caliber and they had all ended the same. He touched down in the city that the tournament would occur and immediately took a cab to the nearest hotel. The price didn't matter only it's vicinity to the tournament. He'd rather be within walking distance to avoid as much extra transportation costs as possible.

There were places to eat nearby and even two different gyms that were practically across the street from each other. Yes, the tournament was just around the corner. In a few weeks, in fact. He had come early because he had judged that getting a hotel so nearby would be impossible otherwise. Apparently, he had been correct. Everywhere he looked he observed an unnatural number of physically fit men, obvious contestants in the coming tournament, but he made no comments towards them. The two gyms, he knew, would be packed with those trying to show off or more like congregate.

It was the same everywhere—packed gyms and suspiciously high prices at nearby restaurants and other eateries. There was money to be made and vendors knew that they were dealing with a crowd who could clean out an entire restaurant if they weren't prepared or had prices that deterred buying so much food at one sitting. Luckily for Kazuya, even after paying far too much for the hotel room, price was still not an obstacle.

Kazuya remembered the first time he had went to a tournament of this kind. It only took one time for him to better prepare himself in the future. He had been practically homeless. There were two things that he had to worry about—a place to sleep and money enough to obtain some food. He had been forced to forgo the former. Sure he had acquired a bit of a laughing stock, but he had wiped the smiles off their faces as soon as the tournament came to a close. He had had just enough money to get back to Japan. That was the first and last time he would leave himself so vulnerable again. There would be no laughing stocks this time. There was still the painful language barrier, but he was not a conversationalist and he knew enough English to get by.

Kazuya had no inclinations to go to the gym when it was in the state that it was. He opted instead to go walking about—sightseeing if you will. As long as he took note of what direction he took, he could manage to find his way back quite easily. The thought of asking someone for direction was enough to make Kazuya keep an even sharper eye out for where he travelled.

Everything was noisier here, not with people, but with cars. It was as if everyone had one. On a day like this so near the weekend, the roadways were quite congested. The area was so urban that Kazuya hardly expected a grand park to be nearby. He hardly walked a mile before he came upon it. Already tiring of the urban scenery, he made his way down the path that led to it and was presented with an entirely new world as if the city was miles away, but in reality it was just a stone's throw away. He could hear the cars and traffic in the distance, but it was muffled now and negligible.

He was thinking about nothing in particular as he followed the path deeper and deeper into the park. The quietness became so intense that the sound of shouting voices startled him out of his reverie. His pace slowed considerably and as curiosity got the better of him, he moved towards where he heard the new noise. There was a small area almost completely surround by thick bushes except for the space that served as an entrance into the field. Through the bushes he spied three capable looking fighters. One, Kazuya knew immediately—Chaolan Lee—but the other two were completely foreign to him. He watched for a little bit, they were obviously engaged in a spar with one another. The muscular looking blond man stood off to the side and Lee and a man of Chinese descent were locked in combat. Kazuya found himself watching for longer than he thought he would. He thought he might pass them by so as not to start anything, but instead he walked from behind the bushes to get a better view of it. The two men fought with such intensity that it was hard to simply ignore. He began to wonder if this was indeed a spar or something else altogether. When first blood was drawn, Kazuya thought they might call it quits, but they kept going.

Kazuya almost didn't notice the approach of the blond man. When he did, it was too late to carry on down the path—it must've been obvious that he had been watching by then.

"Hey you, you wouldn't happen to be a contestant as well?" the blond man questioned upon reaching him.

Kazuya only caught the "contestant" part of that sentence. He simply nodded once sensing that he must have been asked a question.

"Hm, like what you see? You haven't even seen half of what they could do, but you seem like a tough enough guy. I would spar with you, but I would hate to scare off my competition."

Kazuya only stared at the other with an unfathomable expression.

"You don't talk much, huh? Are you here alone?" The man waited for the other to respond, but then continued when the other didn't. "Here, let me show you to my friends—promise they won't bite."

By this time, the blond man had concluded that the other must be on the slow side. He decided that he would take up the other's hand to guide him forward, but it did not end well. When the blond man grabbed for Kazuya's hand, he found himself face first on the ground.

"Holy smokes, that's some quick reflexes," the man exclaimed while still on the ground. It took him a moment to gather himself back up again. There was new light in his eyes when he looked at Kazuya, "This tournament is gonna' be fun."

"Hey, Paul, quit foolin' around with strangers—you're supposed to be keeping score," said one of the two fighters in the distance.

Paul—the blond man who had been trying to converse with Kazuya—turned to the person who had called him; so did Kazuya.

"Nevermind that, I think we've just found ourselves a new spar partner, Marshall."

"What?"

"His reflexes are incredible, I bet he'd be a match even for you. Although, he doesn't talk much…"

Kazuya only watched the two of them exchange a few words. He noticed Lee as well looking at him now with a strange look on his face. Could it be that he could not recognize him. Lee stepped a few yards in front of Marshall and his eyes narrowed. By now Kazuya was looking directly at Lee waiting for the other one to say something.

"Kazuya?" Lee said at last.

"Wait, you know this guy, Lee?" Paul asked incredulously.

"Yeah, sort of," Lee said offhandedly as he approached the two. "What are you doing here?" Lee asked directly to Kazuya in a language he knew quite well.

"For the same thing as you—participate in the tournament."

"I'm not actually a contestant, you know. If you came here out of some kind of revenge—

"You're the furthest from my mind—insignificant. The fact that you're here is a mere coincidence. I've gone all around the world going to such tournaments—if you went to just one of them, we were bound to cross each other's path."

"So this is what you've been doing with your time. Ever since I left for college…this. Kazuya, I heard about your grandfather—

"Save it. I don't need your sympathy. It's old news anyways."

"But how have you been managing without him? I know we ended on bad terms, but we're adults now perhaps we could start over."

"It's impossible."

"Kazuya, now—

"The past is dead to me. It's a shame you're not a contestant, however, it would have made my day. Why are you here if not to fight?"

Lee sighed deeply, "These are my friends Paul Phoenix and Marshall Law. Paul wanted to test his skills at a nearby tournament and we tagged along. At the moment, we're just doing some sparring to kill the time. You can watch if you'd like, if you have nothing better to do."

Kazuya shook his head once, "I've seen enough. It seems you've kept up your training as well."

"You can thank those guys—otherwise I would have had nothing to do with fighting anymore."

"I see."

"I wish you well in the tournament. Paul might not look it, but he's a powerful fighter—watch out for him."

"I'll keep that in mind," Kazuya said turning, "Well, I'll let you get back to your sparring."

Kazuya walked until he could no longer feel the eyes of Lee on him, then he walked a little quicker. He hadn't thought he'd ever run into Lee again. Lee was educated and involved in a world completely separate from his yet here he was. It was funny how things worked themselves out.

/

The cries of the screaming fans were deafening. The crowd wanted to see blood, they wanted to see carnage, but most of all, they wanted to see a good fight and Kazuya would not disappoint. The tournament itself dragged on for an entire week. Fighters were given less than a day to recover from their fights, but none forfeited. This tournament seemed to attract the more tenacious contestants. Every promised fight occurred—no back outs. It was thrilling to say the least. As it drew closer and closer to the final fight, the crowd grew more and more insane. At this point, the security guards had to step in to calm them before they caused injury to themselves.

Kazuya who hated the very idea of being around too many people found it to be strangely euphoric. When he heard the shouts of the crowd sometimes even chanting his name, his blood pumped fiercely. He'd play around with his enemies letting them think that they had some chance of winning and then he would end them immediately on the second round. He taunted and angered his contestant mercilessly and then he would crush them. That was how much of the tournament was done for Kazuya at least. Really, Kazuya could finish off his opponent in thirty seconds, but the crowd wanted to see some type of show so he would draw things out.

It was no question that Kazuya would make it to the final fight. The real question was, who would be fighting against him. Kazuya stepped out into the arena. If he had been listening to the announcer all along, he might have known that his opponent was none other than Paul Phoenix. He knew soon enough when he saw the blond man with the funny haircut.

"So it's you!" Paul cried out to the other with an excitement that stuck Kazuya as odd. "I knew it'd come to this—I have a good eye for talent."

Kazuya said nothing back to him partially because he could barely understand him and simply moved into his fighting stance. Seeing that Kazuya was already preparing himself, Paul did the same with a determined look on his face. He knew that this fight would be far more difficult than all the others.

Paul was the aggressor in the first round so much so that Kazuya was forced to be on the defensive. Paul's punches came from everywhere—he was for lack of a better word, energetic in Kazuya's opinion. Just when he thought he could get in a hit edgewise—Paul was there to attack him once again. Paul was much faster than he let on—and his strength, well that was something else altogether. More than once, Kazuya found himself on the ground. He'd have to leap back to his feet quickly before Paul could overtake him. After the first round, Kazuya grew more aggressive out of frustration and the fact that he hadn't planned on losing this tournament. Blood had already been drawn, but Kazuya drew more of it from Paul. He didn't hold back his strength any longer—Kazuya's punches became devastating. Uppercut, side punches, and swirling kicks all came down like a hailstorm upon the hapless Paul. Even then, Paul was able to retaliate, but Kazuya remained relentless. He became a stone wall. Paul still was able to slide in a few fist attacks, but Kazuya seemed largely unaffected.

The fight went on and on and on. By the time the fight was ended due to the time limit being expired for more than thirty minutes, it was hard to choose a winner.

The screams and shouts from the crowd were earsplitting, Kazuya could no longer hear. The announcer's voice echoed just barely over the noise. The only words Kazuya wanted to hear were "winner" and his name. Well, he heard "winner", but it was not followed by his name or anyone's name. There was an explanation afterwards, Kazuya could tell. Then he heard a word that instantly brought a frown to his face: "draw". Kazuya couldn't believe it, the match, no, the entire tournament had ended in a draw. How could this be?

"I won!" Kazuya shouted up to the high position of the announcer. Even though he knew it was impossible for anyone to hear him or understand him, he couldn't help himself, "I won!" he repeated, "His skill is nowhere near mine!"

Kazuya looked across to Paul who by then had realized that he had been saying something and had started to approach him. Kazuya could only glower at him. Paul was stony faced; whatever look Kazuya could give him, it would not stop his advance.

"I'm the man who will be the strongest in the world—to think that there is someone out there who can match my skill…Mark my words, I'll have my rematch and I'll show you who the better one is."

"You are loser," Kazuya managed to say in English, "I am winner."

"Keep dreaming! I'm the strongest. You understand that, Kazuya? I'm stronger."

Kazuya recognized a threatening tone and he responded accordingly. He grabbed the nape of Paul's karate gi and was about to thrust him to the ground when he felt a nice solid punch smash into the side of his face. Surprised, Kazuya simply let the other fall from his grasp, but he couldn't simply let Paul get away with it. Before Paul could even get up again, Kazuya pressed his foot upon his chest. Paul struggled to get from under it by trying to remove Kazuya's hold, but it did not work. A fight might have broken out once again had security not came out to stop them. It took five quite burly men to drag Kazuya away, but after a few yards of being pulled back, Kazuya broke away from them with a fierce shove, straightened himself and trudged away off the arena stage—he had had enough of all of it. He would not be made a fool in front of so many people.

He had no idea what happened to Paul afterwards, he just knew that he never wanted to see his face again; he was certain that he would not be able to stop himself from beating him to a bloody pulp if he did.

/

Sometimes it could take some time for Kazuya's temper to subside. The kind of anger that he had experienced at the tournament took a few hours of pounding something repeatedly until it disintegrated under the pressure. He was unaware of anyone else watching him do this at the gym. Hardly anyone came to the gym right after a big tournament. Kazuya had been counting on this for privacy. He looked up when he heard footsteps. There was Lee who had just come through the entrance to the room.

"What do you want?" Kazuya questioned Lee before the other could say anything.

"You said you've gone all over the world participating in tournaments—I thought I might tell you about one you might be interested in."

"Just spit it out, I don't have time to hear you beat around the bush."

"Alright then, it's called The King of Iron Fist Tournament hosted by the head of the Mishima Zaibatsu."

"Where?" Kazuya asked abruptly.

"In Japan, of course. You'll fit in a lot better there. And Kazuya, Paul will be there as well."

"I don't care about 'Paul'. I have my eyes on a better goal."

"Don't tell me; Heihachi, right? You're so amazingly predictable even after all these years."

"Isn't that why you came here to tell me about that tournament?"

"I just…wanted you to find some peace. It always seemed like you had a bone to pick with your father. Perhaps if you can get it over with already, you could move on. You can't live your life solely to get revenge on one person."

If only Lee knew, that it was indeed possible to do such a thing—Kazuya had been doing it for years now. The only reason he was alive at all was for that very same reason: revenge. Vengeance gave him life, vengeance was his life and instead of fighting against it or trying to convince himself that there must have been more to it; he simply accepted that fact. With that acceptance came the realization that he was just a ticking time bomb, just a tool for Devil to use—a good one at that. Because of that, he kept everyone at a distance. He chose consciously not to show kindness to anyone, not to show that a heart existed there small and forgotten. The exception, of course, being Jun, but even with her, he still kept her at some kind of distance with all his might. He knew the consequences if he did anything else besides.

He looked at Lee and simply grinned, then continued demolishing the punching bag in front of him.

/

AN: huannguyen mentioned the fact that Jun hasn't been training. First of all, thanks for reminding me, I totally forgot about that. Good news, though, Jun doesn't actually appear in the first Tekken Tournament so I still have some time to show that she has in fact been training—besides, Jun is someone who needs a specific reason to fight and that reason hasn't come yet. Anyways, I'd like to say that I've finally finished my finals and it's summer break for me. While I still have summer classes to take, I have significantly more time to update this and other stories I have on fan fiction.