Jin sat up in a cold sweat. He was shivering. A pair of burning eyes still hung before his vision, the remnant of a nightmare. He pushed his damp fringe from his forehead and hugged his legs. He took shuddering breaths in and out, in and out, until his heartbeat slowed to normal. He crossed his legs and sat, looking forward, palms resting light on his knees. He always woke up with the dawn. There was no kettle whistling, no fire crackling, no wind tapping on the shutters. There was only stillness, and silence, and slow light seeping sluggishly through the paper walls of his room.

When he wasn't sleeping, or being spoken to, or looking at new things, Jin stopped. He stopped in his body, and in his head, and in his heart. He would look into space, look at nothing at all, and everything would simply pause. He wouldn't think of the past, or of the future, or even the present. He wouldn't think of anything. He would simply stop. Like a clock with no battery. Maybe that was the problem. A big battery was gone from his chest, and that was why it felt like there was this terrible, terrible hole.

He looked at the door to his room. His breath was still coming a little short and shaky. He wanted to get out and walk, but he was worried it might still count at nighttime and a bear might eat him. He'd heard that in Wakayama, wildlife officers had to take a hunting rifle out with them in case of bear attacks. Jin didn't have a hunting rifle. He also didn't want to kill a bear. He wondered what kind of animal he had eaten yesterday. He wondered if it had had a good life. His grandfather had said it was special meat, so that probably meant it had had a good life, right? He hoped so…

Jin stood. Maybe if he was quiet, the bear wouldn't hear him. He touched the painted walls of his room. They were so delicate and beautiful. He wondered if the pictures on them told a story. There was an empty bookshelf all carved with patterns too, with enamel inlayed at the ends. He wondered what books had been on here, or whether there had ever been any. Everything in the room looked very neat and tidy. Jin knelt next to the bookshelf and traced his fingers along the carvings. He liked the feel of it, and following the patterns made him feel calmer.

There was something under the dresser next to the bookshelf. A millimetre of aged paper. It stood out from the pristine upkeep of the rest of the room. Jin put his nail on the curl of the page and wiggled it out from under the dresser. To his surprise, it was a very old, faded comic. He brushed the dust off it. A samurai was on the cover, wielding a spear, and on his shoulder was a little baby boy.

Jin sat back down on the futon with his find. He opened the first page and sneezed at the cloud of dust it lifted into the air. He flicked through, looking at the pictures. It seemed to be a very serious sort of story, full of oaths and honour and assassinations, but the samurai character seemed to care a great deal about his little son. Jin touched the warrior's face, feeling the rough grains of old paper under his fingertips.

He heard a sound from the corridor. He wondered if it was a bear coming to eat him.

"Young Master Jin?" came a call.

Jin slid the comic back into its resting place under the dresser and stood.

"Yes?"

The door slid open, and an older man stood without. His hair was greying in places and his skin was leathery brown.

"Mishima-sama will have you spar with him at the family dojo. I have a few different sizes of gi here for you to try on. Take which ever fits you best, it will be yours until a custom gi is made for you."

Jin touched the starched and neatly iron fabrics that were held out to him. They felt crisp under his fingertips. They would make a nice snap when he threw his punches. He looked up at the man.

"Were they my father's?"

The man hesitated. He gave a slight smile. "Some. But, Young Master Jin, it is best not to speak of Mishima Kazuya within these walls. Or anywhere in fact. He was not universally loved, and your grandfather in particular does not like to hear of him."

Jin looked back at the gis.

"Okay," he said, after a pause. He looked back at the man. "I'm sorry, I don't think I know your name."

That strange, slightly strained smile was on the man's face again. Jin wondered if he wasn't meant to ask the man's name, but it seemed a bit rude not to ask when the man had brought him these clothes to wear.

"I'm Fujita. I help your grandfather keep the house in order."

"Do you live here?" Jin asked.

"In a different wing of the building, but yes."

"Are you my uncle?"

"Your-?"

"My uncle. I know I have an uncle. He likes chocolate sprinkled in his drinks, and beautiful clothes, and he likes men as well as women because it is okay to love whoever you wish."

"Uh-…"

"You are not the same person who brought me kimonos yesterday or the day before."

"Y-young Master Jin, let's refrain from talking about Mishima Kazuya or Lee Chaolan, alright? And I'm not an uncle, I'm a butler. I work for your grandfather, like a great many other people here."

"How many?"

"I'm sorry?"

"How many other people work here?" Jin was leafing through the gis. He drew one up to him, checking the length.

"A large number. Young Master Jin, I have some duties I must attend to. If you would put on a gi and afterwards go to the foyer, your grandfather will meet you there to take you to the dojo."

"Cool," Jin said, throwing away one set of gi bottoms and holding up another. "Does that mean the bear has gone?"

Fujita looked like he might have been about to leave, but he turned his attention back to Jin now.

"The bear has…-?"

"Gone. Ojiisama told me there is a bear on the loose. If confused and in an area densely populated by humans, bears can lash out and cause fatal injury. Some have even been known to get a taste for human flesh and incorporate humans into their diet. Do you know about the Kesagake attack in Hokkaido in nineteen-fifteen? Bears shouldn't be kept as pets."

"W-… well, Kuma is very well trained by your grandfather. He raised him from a cub. And he raised Kuma's father before him. There's nothing to worry about. Anyway, Kuma usually goes out in the morning."

"Almost all fatal attacks by exotic pets are done by animals that were raised from infancy by the owner. Humans become complacent and forget that there is a big difference between domestication and a wild animal. There was a chimpanzee in America-"

"Young Master Jin, you seem very knowledgeable about these things, but please refrain from talking so in this household. Your grandfather is dearly attached to his bears and it will do little to commend you to him to hear you speak ill of his beloved pets. You don't want to earn his anger, do you?"

Jin shut up at that. He looked at Fujita, apprehensive and suddenly anxious.

"I won't say anything about keeping bears being bad," he said after a moment. He paused though, before tentatively asking, "Is the bear happy?"

"I should think so, he's fed ten kilos of fish a day."

Jin thought probably a bear's diet should include more things like nuts and berries and other foraged plants and not just fish, but then perhaps that was what the creature was out doing now. He wondered how much land his grandfather owned, and whether he was allowed to go out and explore it, and whether the bear might find him if he did. He had a lot of questions he wanted to ask this old man, who seemed a lot less frightening than his grandfather, but Jin thought he looked like he probably wanted to leave and he was worried his questions might be annoying.

"If that's all, Young Master Jin, then please get ready. You don't want to make your grandfather wait."

Jin found a gi that fitted him like a glove. He wondered if it had been his father's. As he pulled it on, he noticed some dirt on his arm. He'd showered when he arrived the day before yesterday, but he'd been so tired, maybe he missed a spot. He rubbed at it. The mark stayed. He twisted his arm, trying to get a better look at it. It was a very big mark. Something about the sight of it made Jin panic. He pulled open the wardrobe and turned his arm to the inlaid mirror in the door. A mark was scrawled onto his arm, like two curling jagged symbols, interlocked in an eternal battle. Jin tried to scrub the mark off, but the moment his palm touched the symbol, a dread filled him. It filled him like ink pouring into his lungs – all the way up until he couldn't breathe. He took his hand away and the feeling subsided.

Tears burst into his eyes, and this time he grabbed the corner of a fine kimono and tried to rub off the mark without touching it. Nothing he did seemed to get rid of it. He didn't understand where it had come from or how it had gotten there. What was he going to do? It looked like a tattoo. What if his grandfather saw it? Maybe he would change his mind about teaching him… Jin brushed at his eyes. Maybe when he showered he could wash it off with soap.

In his heart, in the very dark corners, Jin knew the mark would not come off. He knew what that feeling of dread meant when he touched it. He knew that in amidst all the other pains that had rent at him when he awoke after the attack, there had been this burning sensation on his bicep. He knew that something had marked him.

Jin stood still. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked thin, harrowed, with dark shadows under his eyes. He dried his eyes again and pulled his shoulders back. He held his head high and put his gi top on. He would forget about it for now. He had to impress his grandfather. His mind had to be on fighting and nothing else.

The only belts that had been left to him were black. Jin looked at them. He had never graded in any formal class before, but his mother had done much teaching in her time and explained enough dojo etiquette that Jin knew how he ought to conduct himself. He was coming to a new teacher and learning a new style, he didn't want to seem arrogant by putting on a black belt.

After searching the cupboards to no avail, Jin caught one of the passing servants and asked them if they could please help him. He was eventually brought a white belt, and he tied it on, admiring himself. Then he worried for the time, and hurried to where he thought the foyer was. Instead, he found three more bathrooms, a library, a room that only had vases in it, a room that only had paper fans in it, and another with a collection of mismatched tiny ceramic bowls in glass cabinets. These distracted him, since they were beautiful colours and he liked the way the paint had been dabbed onto them and the textures they created.

He was eventually found by a frantic servant and brought before his grandfather in a large reception room. The reception room was panelled with gleaming wood and had tables sporting bonsai trees. When Jin saw them, he paused and wanted to touch them. The leaves were so small… Smaller than his littlest fingernail, and looked exactly like real leaves, but very, very tiny.

"Jin!"

Jin swivelled round, hand still outstretched to touch the tree. Heihachi was glowering. His enormous eyebrows nearly touched in the middle. He looked like a dragon. Jin shrunk from him.

"What time do you call this?! You beg me for tutelage, and this is how you arrive for training?!"

Jin felt ashamed then. He hadn't meant to get lost and he hadn't met to get distracted by all the beautiful things his grandfather had in his house. He did very much want to train under him. He wondered if his grandfather would throw him out of the house and if he'd have to go and spend another night in Tokyo train station. He looked so angry. Jin wanted to apologise, but his tongue got all frozen. He went very still and just looked at Heihachi sorrowfully.

"Idiotic boy," Heihachi snapped. "And what is that you're wearing, a white belt?"

Jin looked down at it, then back at Heihachi. Maybe he had got the etiquette wrong after all?

Heihchi turned from him, and Jin noticed now that his grandfather was wearing a black gi, and that on the back was a roaring embroidered tiger. Heihachi clicked once.

"Come," Heihachi said. Jin ran to his side and looked up at him. "Don't ever waste my time again, do you hear?"

Jin nodded. Then quickly added, "Yes, Ojiisama."

When they stepped outside, Jin forgot some of his anxiety. The sky was a brilliant azure blue, and tufts of white clouds streaked across it like whisps of newly shed fleece. He smiled at the sight.

"Everything you can see belongs to the Mishima," his grandfather said.

Not the sky, Jin thought, but he didn't say that.

"You see those mountains?" Heihachi pointed. They were thick with trees, and angular with steep mossy peaks. Jin felt calm to see them watching over him. "All those are part of the Mishima Estate."

Jin wondered if there were shrines in those mountains, like there were on Yakushima.

"These are the koi gardens," Heihachi said, waving a hand.

They were passing through a lavish display of bushes bursting with flowers. Hidden about them was the sound of falling water. Jin tried to peer around and look for the ponds.

"You want to see the fish?" Heihachi asked.

Jin nodded. His grandfather took him to a tiny, arched, red bridge. From out of the thick, low foliage, still ponds appeared, clear and deep. Lilypads floated upon them, and lotus flowers with kaleidoscope-layered petals swayed on its surface. Jin leaned over. A speckled carp swam out from under the bridge – mottled sliver, black, and orange. Then came another, sun gold, and another, as orange as a satsuma.

"Be careful." Heihachi touched his shoulder. "It's deep. Can you swim?"

Jin nodded. He was a very good swimmer.

"Hm." Heihachi pointed towards a cluster of trees on the far side of one of the ponds. "The orchards are over that way. In spring, I put on a cherry blossom viewing festival for the locals. Do you like cherry blossom?"

Jin nodded again. He was feeling a bit braver.

"Yes, I like that," he said quietly.

"Hm. Had a feeling you might. Come along."

Jin hurried to keep up with Heihachi's long stride.

"Does the bear not eat the fish?" he asked.

"Of course, not! My dear Kuma knows better than to eat my ornamental koi."

Jin thought about that. It seemed this bear really was quite well-trained after all.

"So the bear doesn't eat humans?"

Heihachi glanced at him. He gave a smile of some kind, though it somehow didn't feel friendly to Jin.

"Not unless I tell him to."

Jin stared at his grandfather, eyes wide. He wasn't entirely sure if he was joking.

The walk to the dojo was over a stunning summer meadow, dotted with daisies and wild grasses that waved in the light breeze. The dojo itself startled Jin. It was larger than the largest building in the village back home, and looked more like a temple than a martial arts school. He craned his neck as he looked up at it. His grandfather gave a huff of amusement and pushed open the dojo door. Jin took off his shoes and stepped over the threshold, bowing as he did. When he straightened though, he let out a noise of surprise. The interior did indeed look like a temple, complete with a large bodhisattva seated at the far end, with two statues either side. There were candles, already lit, raised on daises down either side of the dojo, and an enormous dharma wheel engraved into the floor. His grandfather entered silently next to him.

Jin was still blinking as he took a step forward. Sunbeams from carved, high windows cast shards of patterned light on the polished wooden floor. He strode into the room, eyes transfixed on the enormous golden bodhisattva. He recognised it from its features, Fudō Myōō. Despite this, the sight made him feel a little afraid. He'd never seen a depiction quite so fierce and angry as this. Jin stood before it. He bowed twice to it, then brought his hands together and clapped twice, before bowing again.

His grandfather came to stand next to him. Jin glanced up at him, suddenly worried that it wouldn't be the right kind of veneration. Heihachi was only looking at him curiously.

"Shall we meditate before we fight?" Heihachi asked.

It was a strange question to Jin. It took him a moment to think about why. So far, all the things his grandfather had asked him were questions about himself. When it was time to do something, Heihachi didn't ask, he just told him what to do. Now though, he was still, looking at Jin and waiting for an answer that Jin believed would really change what they would do.

"Yes, okay," Jin said.

He knelt before the shrine. His grandfather sat down next to him, cross-legged. He set his palms on his knees and closed his eyes. Jin paused, then changed to sit like Heihachi was, copying the way he rested his hands.

Jin sat silent. He cleared thoughts from his head and remained very still. It was hard in that room, so absent of all sound. He was used to meditating with the faint rustle of trees all around him, and the soft call of birds. Here there was silence. Here there was nothing. Instead of the peace that the mountains at home instilled him with, he found himself being dragged back to that lonely void. He felt a pressure in his chest. His limbs felt numb. He was suspended in a darkness that he could not see out of. He felt disconnected, far away from his body. He wasn't sure what he was doing here. He wasn't sure why he was doing anything. He realised he wasn't sure how to meditate any more, because all the peaceful things he had known had burned. He wasn't sure he even remembered how to breathe. His breath was stuck in his lungs. His breath was stuck in his lungs. His breath was stuck in his lungs.

"Do you know who you sit before?"

Heihachi's words rumbled into Jin's thoughts. They broke something apart and Jin was able to breathe again. He gasped silently for air; just in and out. Gradually, he was able to slow his shaky breaths. His eyes flickered open. His grandfather's eyes were still shut. A drop fell from Jin's chin to the floor. He looked at it, then quickly wiped at tears that had somehow ended up on his cheeks.

"Yes, Ojiisama," Jin murmured. He finished drying his tears and looked up into the fierce expression of the statue above them. "This is Fudō Myōō, great in compassion and stillness, destroyer of greed, ignorance, and hatred. In the mountains, through consecration, we become like him, and he rests in our hearts. All the universe comes closer together like this…"

"Fudō Myōō is a wrathful god," Heihachi retorted. His voice was scornful. Jin looked up at him. "He symbolises the need to protect our ideals against evil. One ought to have strong belief and protect that with violence, Kazama Jin. He wields the sword not to fill your heart with weakness and mountain-nonsense, but to actively beat down those who defy him. To learn Mishima Ryu is to become like a wrathful god. It is to enforce the strength of one's belief on the world and shape it to your ideals."

Jin felt a pang of hurt and betrayal. He looked up into those frightening, stony eyes. Was that true? It was very different to what he had been taught. From here, it was definitely true that Fudō Myōō looked more furious than compassionate. Jin didn't say anything. He focussed on trying to keep his breathing from betraying that he'd been crying.

"Will you become as a wrathful god, Kazama Jin, and learn how to slay a demon? Will you break, here in these four walls, and arise something new, fierce, and indomitable? Will you set your sights on perfection, on absolute power, on absolute strength? Because if you do not, you will never learn the power required to lure Ogre into hunting down your soul. You will never learn how to destroy Ogre. You will never avenge the one who's name you still will not even speak because of your weakness. Whatever you have learned is not enough. It did not save the one who was taken from you. It might have served in a time of peace. But we are not in peace, Kazama Jin. We live in war. All life is war. Precious few stand up, though, and choose to fight. Will you live a cowed and broken creature, or will you turn pain into anger and fuel a path of vengeance? Look at that sword. Look into that face. Into the face of one who chose a path of unending violence. I will only ask you this once. Will you learn Mishima Ryu Kenka Karate?"

Jin sat very still. He looked up into the features of Fudō Myōō, with his terrible anger – a mirror of the anger inside him. Because he was angry. Under his fear and his grief, he was furious. Everything had been taken from him. Everything beautiful and safe and precious. He had such anger, such fury. He wanted to find the thing responsible and curl all his fury into a fist and beat it to the ground. He wanted to stand over it and pummel it until this rage lessened, … until he could have his life back, … until his heart unbroke... Beneath all that anger, he was in pain. He didn't know what to do with that pain. He didn't know what to do with the magnitude of the loss that he still didn't let himself think on. Anger was easier. It was easier to think of the demon that had attacked him than it was to think of what was gone. It was easier to think of cutting it down, than facing the reality that he was now alone. His eyebrows set hard.

"I will."

Heihachi's eyes finally opened. He turned to Jin.

"Then within these walls, you will call me 'sensei'. You will be here every morning at six A.M. and you will train until you cannot stand. You will eat when I tell you to, rest when I tell you to, train when I tell you to. Is that understood?"

Jin swivelled to face his grandfather. He set his palms on his thighs and bowed.

"Yes, Sensei."