Chapter 14: Isolation
Kazuya woke up the next morning with more questions than answers and they all seemed to revolve around Jin's appearance. None of it made much sense to him. For weeks he had had on and off dreams about Jun and then of a child who he suspected was his son. There was no way to confirm it, of course, but he just had a feeling. Even so, it didn't prepare him for the moment when he would behold the very same child in real life and in an area he frequented when he wasn't otherwise preoccupied. He didn't know what to make of it; he didn't know how he should respond.
Then the door to his room opened and Kazuya looked up expectantly. No doubt it was the doctor checking in on him. Though he had made a full disclosure agreement with the institution, he had not told the doctor about the dreams nor did he plan to tell him about Jin. Such information seemed too personal to discuss even with a doctor who knew far too much about him anyway.
"Ah, Kazuya, my colleagues say you came in rather late. That would account for the grogginess you're experiencing now. May I inquire as to why you suddenly keep such late hours?"
"Maybe I wanted some fresh air," Kazuya responded without much forethought. It was the same answer he gave anytime he didn't feel like revealing his whereabouts and the doctor knew it.
"I only ask because I am concerned for your wellbeing. You may be able to move around on your own, but your body is still recovering from that accident of yours."
"Yes, the one where I was discarded into a volcano."
"This is not a laughing matter. You might have died if it weren't for our research team."
"I understand," Kazuya said with little interest. "You've mentioned that once or twice."
"And yet you continually put yourself in danger as if you don't care whether you live or die. Now, we put a lot of money into your recovery—
"Oh, you'll get your money's worth, doctor."
"We will, but only if you happen to be alive and in good health which you have yet to reach. I would suggest that you stay here for the day, for the week even so that you might recover faster, but I know how you simply can't resist having your 'fresh air'."
"Well, you do want me at full health. How can I be if I'm bored out of my mind?"
"Is that all it is? You want something to stimulate your mind."
"It's nothing you need to bother yourself with."
"When it's about you, then of course I should bother myself."
"What will you do, doctor?" Kazuya said finally climbing out of bed. "Bring out a 500-piece and ask me to waste my life putting it together?"
"Mr. Mishima, I'll not have you roaming about all over Nebraska. Can't you see that I at least have your best interest at heart? I don't see how any of this would work if you're constantly at odds with me. Are you even listening?"
His eyes seemed glazed over as he looked almost dispassionately out the partially open window across from him beside his bed.
"Kazuya?" the doctor asked cautiously. When he didn't get a response, he walked over to the other and placed a hand on each shoulder. "Kazuya, is there something more interesting outside?" he questioned while blocking the other's view.
Kazuya looked back up at him slowly. "What? What are you doing here?" he said it in a way that might have even convinced the doctor that it was a perfectly logical question to ask. Obviously, the man hadn't the foggiest clue why the other was even in the room.
"Kazuya," the doctor continued giving Kazuya a gentle but firm shake. "I mean it when I say you should rest. You are not fit to be out on your own even if you can move about."
"Doctor, take your hands off of me," Kazuya declared with sudden clarity. "I don't need your advice. I just need you to stay out of my way," he growled.
The doctor stepped back putting his hands up in a sign of truce. Kazuya was difficult to follow on the best of days and the doctor had simply grown used to his shifting moods.
"I was assigned the duty of making sure you recovered properly," the doctor said taking a more detached stance. "Allow me to fulfill that."
Kazuya simply glared at the other.
"Answer me this, Kazuya. Are you still having problems keeping your mind focused on one train of thought?"
The doctor knew when the other was like this—agitated—that he wouldn't get much out of him, but it was worth a try. To his surprise, he watched as Kazuya actually considered this question.
"It comes and goes. You're the doctor. How exactly do you plan on fixing that?"
"There's a lot about the human mind that even we scientists don't understand, but there's clearly a correlation between your physical and mental health."
"You've made your point, doctor. You want me to stay put. I understand."
"Good. Then let's see what we can do about that 500-piece you mentioned before," the doctor joked.
Kazuya frowned at the other and then laid back on his bed perhaps to signify to the doctor that he wasn't going anywhere.
"We'll run some tests later, alright, Mr. Mishima?"
Kazuya gave the other a barely perceptible nod before the doctor left promptly finally satisfied with his visit. It took him a moment, an embarrassingly long moment to figure out again why he had wanted to leave in the first place. Then he adopted an annoyed expression. Not only did that take far too long to understand, Jin was no more than a couple of blocks away. Had he run through all the money he had given him? Had he been smart enough to keep to himself if he ever left the building? Was he alright?, Kazuya found himself thinking. It was then that he sat up again. The concept of worrying about another's wellbeing seemed foreign. He knew, though, that he wasn't really worried, not in the traditional sense. It didn't exactly prompt him to do anything and he knew he was missing some part of the puzzle. Common sense dictated that now he should go over to see if the other was fine in order to alleviate…what? What exactly would that do for him? If Jin was fine, what then? If Jin was somehow hurt, how should he respond? He grumbled to himself and laid back down again. Such line of thinking seemed tedious and ridiculous. The answers were obvious, but it seemed he was not privy to them—a frustrating fact.
Just as suddenly as his thoughts had achieved the kind of clarity that he long sought for, they would become muddled again and nothing ever really seemed to make sense. He thought of Jin and then wondered if it was a good idea to have him see him like this. Not that it mattered. Or did it actually matter? But why should it matter if it did?
He became distracted from his own confusing thoughts when the door to his room opened again. The smell of food hit him immediately.
"Breakfast," the older lady said simply.
Kazuya would not have put it passed the doctor to have instructed all the other employees who dealt with Kazuya on a normal basis to only speak in simple words. Kazuya, with no lack of trying, couldn't get anyone to speak a full sentence. It was not only annoying but insulting. Did the doctor think him so daft as to lack the ability to respond to people correctly? He could at least carry on conversations…if his mind did not wander. Like last night with Jin. It was perhaps the longest he had spoken with someone besides the doctor—it was comforting.
"What do you have?" Kazuya asked the other testing the waters.
"Pancakes. Ham. Eggs."
Kazuya stared at the other with obvious irritation.
"Oh! I-I'm sorry," the woman said a little startled as she quickly rolled in the cart and completely intended to leave just as quickly.
"Miss, would you mind telling me what kind of eggs? How did you cook the ham?—was it fried, baked, boiled? And what of those pancakes? Is it simply plain? Is there syrup, what kind?"
"Sorry," the woman mumbled still making her way towards the door after turning back around.
"Are you missing your favorite show or something? Why must you rush out?"
"Sorry," she repeated.
Soon Kazuya was left to himself with only the food keeping him company. It seemed obvious. The doctor must have told his staff to keep conversation to a minimum. Most waitresses he had ever experienced didn't mind discussing how things were made especially if the customer was interested. At least the food tasted good. As he ate it, he wondered if Jin had managed to buy some food for himself. But why should it matter? Yet his thoughts kept drifting back to him with little provocation. Was he lonely? Would he be alright on his own? Such questions held almost no meaning to them but that didn't stop them from being asked.
The only thing he had left to look forward to were the tests which soon preoccupied his thoughts completely. The doctor would graciously explain all the results as exhaustingly as needed and in those moments, Kazuya would learn more about himself than he ever imagined was possible—at least in a physical sense. The doctor must have known it as well—that Kazuya was far more interested in himself than anyone else.
/
Jin woke up the next day practically starving and his stomach growled quite loudly. He took the money out of his pocket once again and stared down at it. There was no way of telling what he could buy with it, but he knew that he at least needed to try and use it.
Last night, he hadn't even left the room. Everyone spoke a foreign language. How could he ever find what he was looking for? He felt isolated from the world and at that moment too afraid to do anything about it. He thought he might wait for his father even if deep down the likelihood of him appearing again seemed abysmal. The finality of his last statement before he left, bore down on him for the majority of the night. Was there no one? Would he be forced to fend for himself?
His growling stomach gave him the kind of courage that he thought was lost to him. He couldn't even begin to think of what to do about his situation until he found some food. So with this, he finally exited the small hotel and walked down the sidewalk. Even if he couldn't read the signs, he could at least smell where food was cooking. Instead of sensing it, however, he used his common sense as he came upon a gas station. Places like those always sold cheap food. When he walked in, he looked for the one food item that his mother—at least the one from his dreams—had gotten for him from the gas station: ramen. He began to doubt he would see as much here in such a foreign place, but eventually he noticed similar packaging; bright and orange. He took one and then on second thought took two more and made his way to the cash register in the front.
The cashier said something quickly and Jin simply laid his items on the counter. The woman rung them up just as quickly and then looked down at the boy expectantly. Jin took this as his cue and laid down all twenty-five of the dollars and gave her a questioning look. The woman without further comment, pushed the twenty back towards the other and took the five, opening the cash register promptly with a ring. Soon Jin was being handed a few dollars and strange coins. The woman said something else before placing all the food items in a bag and handing it over to Jin. The only thing he could think to do was smile politely.
"Not from around here, are you?" the woman said before Jin took his leave.
Jin turned to her a little surprised. He had understood every word. "No…" Jin answered cautiously.
"Japan?" the woman inquired.
Jin nodded.
"My family's second generation immigrants." The woman paused for a moment before trying to decide how she should say the next sentence. "My name's Gina. What's yours?"
"Jin."
"Well, Jin, seeing as you're new around here, you might not know—kids your age are in school."
Jin simply looked at the other, unsure of what she meant.
"Tch, don't tell me I said it wrong. Do you know what I'm saying?"
"I understand," Jin finally said.
"Kids go to school here and you're at that age. Better not let the police see you."
"Okay," Jin replied understanding at least that getting caught by the police would be extremely inconvenient.
"Tell your parents, alright?" the woman said seriously.
Jin nodded then and decided to make his exit before the lady decided to have a full on conversation with him. It was then that he began to realize the precarious situation he was in. He had, for all intent and purposes, ran away from home, so at the moment he had no mom. His father, well, Jin hadn't the slightest clue where he was and if he was ever going to see him again. He felt more like an orphan even worse he felt like a complete idiot for rashly following a dream that could, for all he knew, hold little truth in it. Even if it did feel real and the people in it actually did exist, that should not have been enough to send him off on such a journey. He began to wonder what his mom must have gone through finding her son once again not there. How lonely she must have felt. She could still be there right now crying and there was no one to hear. They were all isolated, he realized. They were all absent from each others' lives. It seemed the more he tried to bring them together, the further apart they became.
Despondently, Jin trudged all the way back to the rundown hotel and settled down into his room. He looked down at his money and realized that it appeared he had more of it than before, but he knew better. At least, his rational mind knew better. It was quite impossible to have bought something and end up with more money than he began with. No, he must have had less. He knew he had to ration it, but he had no idea how to do so if he didn't understand prices or the amount that he had. He sighed exasperatedly to himself. Perhaps he should've asked that lady at the cash register—she seemed all too happy to speak to him in his native tongue. Perhaps he might do it tomorrow.
He felt quite unsafe leaving the premises especially when now he was aware that the police might take him in. He wondered if children his age always went to school. Was it an all-day affair or was it just part of the day? And did they go every single day of the week? Who knew when it would be safe to go out there? Jin knew the food would probably last him for maybe one day—two days if he was pushing it. In the end, he knew he would simply have to take his chances.
But how long was he going to live like this? Somehow, he felt that it would be impossible for him to make his way home on the same kind of supernatural luck that had made it possible to reach here. He was trapped for lack of a better word. Unless his father came back for him, he would be doomed to stay here and perhaps starve, his trip ending in utter failure.
"I'm sorry, Mom," Jin said to himself, "I thought I knew what I was doing…"
/
The next day, Jin found himself looking up at the darkened ceiling. As the sun began rising, Jin's eyes took in all the discoloration on the ceiling and all the funny shapes it had left behind. He wondered where the stains might have come from. Could rain have been responsible for all of it? With bored eyes, Jin continued to stare. He waited and waited for a plan to form in his mind, but nothing came. What was he supposed to do now? Should he start panicking now or tomorrow? Jin shook his head. He didn't even have the energy to do as much. The thought of leaving the room today didn't seem like a good idea, but how else was he going to find Kazuya?
For the millionth time, Jin wondered if he should go out searching for his father. For some reason, he had no doubt that such activities would wind up being a complete waste of energy. Besides, if he stayed here, Kazuya would know exactly where he was. If he left, neither one of them would know where the other was. Using that reasoning, the only thing Jin could do was sit there quietly.
In the end, Jin found himself waiting and waiting. Any small noise would draw Jin's eyes to the door. Several times that day he heard people walking by and each time Jin's hope had gone up only to be dashed just as quickly. He closed his eyes imagining what his father's footsteps would sound like. It would have to be self-assured and heavy. His father always seemed to know what he wanted and he always seemed quite sure of himself—at least, that's the person that he remembered from his dreams. None of the footsteps that went passed his room that day sounded anything like this. Some were light and awkward, others were heavy and hesitant. Many of them were women who clicked by at a steady but hurried pace.
Half the day passed and nothing interesting had occurred. Jin climbed out of bed and went to his window to look outside, but his view was that of a dilapidated brick building next door. It was littered with various graffiti. He only understood the images. Most of them were far too lewd to put words to. Jin took longer than he thought he would examining each and every one of them. He imagined his mother would be horrified to catch him doing such things, but he couldn't deny that whoever had taken the time to place it there must have had some artistic talent. It was difficult to draw his eyes away from it, but soon he grew bored with the whole thing and closed his window. He climbed back on his bed too afraid to lie down on the floor. Who knew if the bed was any cleaner? At least he could imagine that it was.
He was looking at the ceiling again and closed his eyes as the strange images on the ceiling began to dance in his vision. He curled his body when he felt the beginnings of hunger pangs. He had already gone through his food and he didn't want to go out when it was already evening. He tried to concentrate on something other than his hunger but decided that it was impossible. He had already exhausted his mind on all other problems in his life at the moment.
How long would it be like this? How long would he wait? Would he simply wither away in the darkness? Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would have to do something or drive himself crazy doing absolutely nothing.
He became dizzy with hunger the more he began to dwell on the feeling. When the door to his room opened, he heard none of it and he was turned away from it in the first place. He only looked up when he heard the door click after it closed. Jin sat up far too quickly as his world swam in his vision and he paused for everything to return back to normal.
"Father!" Jin exclaimed excitedly.
"What did I tell you about calling me that," the other snapped.
"Sorry," Jin muttered quietly.
The room was increasingly dark. Jin could barely make out the other's form.
"You aren't planning on running away from me, are you?"
Jin blinked twice. "No. Why would I?"
"It was just…something from before."
When Jin heard the other's footsteps, he noticed that they lacked the self-assuredness that he remembered. He was different now, very different. When he was closer, Jin could make out the shape of his face. He felt as his bed took on more weight when the other sat down beside him.
"Will you speak with me then?" Kazuya asked.
"Of course," Jin answered enthusiastically. He wondered what he would say next and then decided on keeping it simple. "How was your day?"
"You really want to know how my day was like?" he asked with genuine seriousness.
Jin nodded then realized that the other might not be able to see it. "Yes. I really don't know anything about you. I don't even know where you live."
"Fine," the other replied.
Then Kazuya started from the beginning. He discussed how his morning was spent with the doctor checking in on him. When Jin asked what the doctor's name was, Kazuya simply shrugged. When Jin then asked why he lived in a hospital, Kazuya coldly told the other to stop interrupting and that it wasn't a hospital but a research facility. Though Jin had desperately wanted to ask what possible reason he was in such a place, he kept his mouth shut. Kazuya then continued explaining that he was told to rest due to the injuries he had sustained after a certain incident that he would not go into. Later, how he spent the afternoon going through multiple tests that Kazuya refused to disclose what they were specifically. Kazuya ended saying how infuriatingly uneventful it all was. Jin thought for a moment that Kazuya would then ask how his day was, but he never did.
"What made you decide to come?" Jin asked, "How come today and not yesterday?"
"Does it matter? I wondered about you. I couldn't stop thinking about you."
"You're not allowed to leave, are you? You snuck out of that place just to come visit me."
"Stop making assumptions. I can do whatever I please. I just wanted to see if you were alright here on your own."
Jin thought he had heard concern in the other's voice, but he wondered if he had just imagined it.
"Will you answer my questions? I can't seem to get them out of my head," Kazuya said.
It was an odd request, but then Kazuya hadn't sounded like himself since he had first walked in that evening.
"Alright," Jin said simply a bit mystified.
"Have you run through all the money I gave you?"
"Um, no. I still have some, but I don't know how much I have left."
"Let me see," Kazuya commanded the other.
Jin took the money and spread it out on the bed. He watched as Kazuya counted it to himself.
"You have enough left for a few more days," he declared. "I'll give you more in a couple of days."
Jin could only nod to the other.
"Have you kept to yourself when you left the building?"
"Yes. Am I supposed to be in school? Can the police lock me up if they see me?"
"Don't go out in the mornings or afternoons. The evenings should be safe and the weekends."
Jin nodded again.
"Are you…alright?"
This time Jin wasn't so quick to answer. "S-sure. I mean…Will you keep visiting?"
"Depends," Kazuya responded distantly as if he were somewhere else altogether.
"On what?" Jin pressured the other.
"I don't know," he answered exasperatedly. "I don't even know why I came here."
"Because you were worried about me," Jin said matter-of-factly.
"I wasn't. I know for a fact I wasn't."
"What are you talking about?"
"I wasn't worried about you in the slightest. I just wanted to speak with you."
"I don't understand," Jin said shaking his head.
"I don't know how else to say it."
"Well, I don't get it."
"I have to go."
"Right now?"
"Yes now or else I wouldn't have said it."
"But you haven't told me when you're gonna' come see me again."
"I don't know."
"That's not good enough!" Jin shouted finally becoming frustrated.
"It will have to be good enough. I'm leaving," Kazuya said simply as he stood up.
"Wait! You can't just leave," Jin exclaimed as if it were out of the question.
"Will you quiet yourself down? You'll wake everyone up with all that noise."
"Then give me a straight answer," Jin demanded.
"I…can't. I just don't know."
Jin's eyebrows furrowed at this. "What the hell is wrong with you anyway? You can't even answer simple questions properly and all you want to do is talk about yourself and then tell me to shut-up when I want to know something more. Who are you?"
"I'm Kazuya Mishima," he declared angrily, "I can barely recall what I did two days ago and now I'm just going off gut feeling that you are what you say you are. I mean, you look like you could be my son, but I just don't know. I don't know much of anything really other than that. And I don't care to hear that tone from you."
Jin was taken aback from his sudden outburst. He started to say something but then stopped himself.
"I'm leaving," Kazuya said repeating himself.
"Kazuya…let me help you. I don't know what happened to you, maybe you'll tell me eventually, but I want to help you."
Kazuya paused when he made it to the door. "I'll come…tomorrow," he said finally making a decision.
/
AN: Jin, looks like there's finally some progress although it can only go so far with a soul as fractured as Kazuya's. Stay tuned.
