"Nandakorya?!"

The old woman set her lips in a thin line. "Mishima-sama," she reminded him sternly, "you remember the condition upon which I promised to give you this news. Do not forget yourself."

Trying to regain some semblance of nonchalance, Jinpachi's voice shook slightly as he asked, "Please, say that again?"

"Kazuya is not dead," she repeated.

If she was having him on, he would never forgive her. "H-how do you know this?"

She pulled a piece of paper out from behind her. Wordlessly, she handed it to him with both hands. Opening the sheet with trembling fingers, Jinpachi read:

To the caretakers of Mishima Kazuya,

I have been asked not to disclose who I am or where I am located, but the child wished his grandfather to know that he is not in fact dead. He survived being thrown off a high cliff by none other than his own father and he does not wish his whereabouts to be known as he is afraid that he will attempt to kill him yet again. However, he did not want his grandfather to needlessly grieve over his death and requested that this news be delivered to him through his nanny who he felt was the only person he could trust not to betray him. He will contact her again but will not return to Tokyo until he feels his father is no longer a threat to his safety. The boy is alive and well, and hopes that his ji-ji has not been too distressed by the false news of his supposed death.

JInpachi resisted the urge to crush the paper in his fist. Noting the mounting fury in his face, Kazuya's nanny softly warned, "Compose yourself, Mishima-sama. If it is true that Heihachi was responsible for Kazuya's supposed death, his treachery runs deeper than you know, and there is no telling where his people are." Nodding, he handed her back the piece of paper, which she held over a candle, destroying it.

When he was finally able to find his voice, he looked at her and said, "How do I know that this is true? There is no proof to corroborate any of what is said here."

Watching the last bits of the letter blacken, she replied, "I have no way to confirm that it is true, but in my heart, it sounds like something Heihachi would do. The letter contained no return address, but it was postmarked from the same region in Kyushu where you and Kazuya had visited."

"That wretched animal," Jinpachi swore. "How could he do that to his own son?" It dawned on him now, why it made no sense that he was called back to Tokyo. The only reason the pretense had been made was to separate him from Kazuya. "I will not let him win," he vowed. "In order to prevent him from becoming suspicious, I will proceed in all things as if Kazuya truly had died. I must find a way to thwart Heihachi's murderous ambitions." He bowed deeply to the woman. "Arigato, Ba-chan."

"Be careful, Mishima-sama," was her only warning.

Getting into his car, Jinpachi ordered the driver back to his home and tried grasp how great was Heihachi's subterfuge. In order to keep Kazuya safe from any potential designs his father may have had, Jinpachi had made every attempt to ensure that Heihachi was not aware of the boy's comings and goings, but if it was possible for him to find Kazuya and create a distraction so that he could not protect him, his influence in the zaibatsu had to be considerable. For all he knew, even his driver was one of his spies.

Trying to appear as if nothing had changed, Jinpachi quietly looked out the window as he returned home. Kazuya was alive! The news lifted the stony weight of grief from his heart and simultaneously lit the fires of anger within him towards his son. In light of these events, it was apparent now more than ever that he had to maintain a constant guard against Heihachi.

Kazuya's funeral proceeded as planned, and Jinpachi was glad that Heihachi was conspicuously absent from the ceremony, as he was not completely confident that he could maintain an air of ignorance if he were to see his face. After the funeral, he erected a small marble headstone next to Hanai and put on a fair show of profound grief for the staff present. I am thinking of you, Kazuya, he thought to his grandson.


"Your grandfather should have received the letter by now, Kazuya-kun," Jun's father told him kindly.

"Arigato, Kazama-san." He'd been worried about how his grandfather was doing and hoped that he felt better now.

"Well, it's getting late," Jun's father observed. "Why don't you get some sleep?"

"Thank you, I will." Walking past Jun's room, he glanced inside and saw her in her pajamas kneeling by her windowsill. Peering closer, he saw that she was feeding a squirrel. The tiny animal was taking scraps directly from her hand. Sensing that she was being watched, she turned slowly and looked at him.

"This is Biko. He visits me sometimes," she explained in a hushed voice.

"He's so tame!" Kazuya marveled.

Jun grinned as the furry guest grabbed another chunk of nut from her open palm. "Biko-chan likes his nuts, eh?" she cooed. The squirrel simply stuffed more food into his cheeks, giving him a less than dignified appearance. She scratched him behind his pointed ears and he closed his eyes contentedly

"Can I pet him?"

"Sure, he's super friendly." Jun waved him quietly over to where she was crouched.

Tentatively sticking out his good hand, Kazuya tried to move slowly as he reached out to pet the animal but was startled when it gave an angry screech and bolted off the windowsill. Puzzled, he asked, "Did I scare him?"

Jun watched his furry behind as he scampered into the night. "I don't know. He's never done that around me before. Maybe it's because he doesn't know you." She left the remaining nuts on the windowsill in case he decided to come back for seconds. "Good night, Biko-chan!" she called out.

"You're really good with animals," he said with admiration.

Giggling at his compliment, she simply said, "Thanks."

"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Mm. G'night."

Turning, he bid her goodnight and walked to his room. Lying down in the unfamiliar bed, he felt the same strange feeling he had experienced for the last four nights – a strange restlessness within him, as if his mind could not stop racing. Though he felt tired and wished to go to sleep, he couldn't stop thinking about his fall and the look on his father's face when he had pitched him over the edge of the cliff. Strangely though, the memory no longer caused fear in him. In fact, he felt the exact opposite – an overwhelming need to punish his father for what he had done.

In time, little one.

Kazuya bolted upright and looked around the room. "Who said that?" There was no answer and the only sound was the soft breeze that moved the curtains over his window. Telling himself that it was only his imagination, he pulled the covers up to him and tried to go to sleep.


nandakorya: what

ba-chan: granny

ji ji: grandpa