Returning to school lost its exciting flare very quickly for Jin. He was still glad to talk to his peers again, but he preferred his tutor Kimura's lessons on the whole. Kimura had tried to find ways to engage him, whilst the classes in school were so big that most teachers didn't notice that he switched off part way through a lesson. Jin wasn't swimming as often now either. He attended once or twice a week, but mostly felt frustration while he was there, and swam strong lengths up and down the pool to avoid talking to anyone. He arranged for himself to be taken home early on the other days, and would spend the extra hours in the dojo, honing his karate.

He felt more angry than he used to, or maybe he'd always felt this angry, and now that the he wasn't mired in sorrow all the time, the anger had a chance to surface. Heihachi praised him for it though, and told him to use it to fuel his karate. Every time Jin thought he was catching up to his grandfather's skill, he would see anew just how great the distance between them was when Heihachi beat him down. Jin realised that even though his early martial arts lessons had felt harsh, Heihachi had withheld his strength and taught him only the bare basics of his art. His grandfather built now upon those foundations, always pushing Jin to keep up. Jin's karate quickly became one of the only places where he felt he could unwind and get this building pressure off his chest. He felt like a kettle sitting over a fire all day, until he finally boiled in the evening and could explode into his martial arts.

Over the next few months, Jin tended to keep his classmates at a distance, chatting back when they did, but only within the confines of the school day. He couldn't muster the interest to care about the minutiae school drama. He simply didn't care if someone copied someone's homework, or if someone else sabotaged a secret relationship by kissing so-and-so behind a gym. Ogre was always on his mind, and by comparison, everyone else's concerns felt trite and superficial. He was always eager to get out of the classroom and into the gym. Even the school gym annoyed him with its subpar facilities though, and, on one occasion, he felt confident enough in stating as much to his grandfather. Within a day, punchbags and dummies appeared in his reserved gym, and he was able to train more effectively.

Jin was aware that it was becoming common knowledge that he trained through many of the school hours, but fortunately this mostly only leant him an added armour of mystique, and kept those off his back who might have otherwise tried to pick fights with him. He hadn't yet had any returning run-ins with the boy he'd hospitalised, and, on the whole, a sedate routine to life emerged. Miharu would occasionally ask him if he still wanted to explore the off-limits corridor with her, but Jin's interest in its secrets had waned. Miharu tried to show him photos she'd taken of suspicious people entering and exiting the corridor, but Jin shrugged it off. Probably it was some Tekken Force security office with a team who kept an eye on the school. Either way, finding out would likely get back to Heihachi and cause Jin hassle. It was easier just to focus on himself.

Jin thus managed to pass the next few months solidly in Heihachi's good books, if not also sunk into reclusive, taciturn moods. As spring rolled into summer, Jin was reminded that his grandfather had spoken of some grand occasion he was expected to attend. Kimura returned to the estate for the first time since early April, and even though Jin didn't much appreciate the idea of additional lessons, he was grudgingly glad to see him again. This time, Kimura came on Saturday mornings and for an hour in the evening most weekdays to tutor Jin in additional the formalities and expectations of his station.

Finally, the day came when Heihachi summoned Jin to his study.

When Jin entered, warm light was brushing in through the open window, casting everything in a soft, muted glow. Bright trinkets and glass flashed and turned in the light, so that the study looked like a magpie nest. Jin looked up at the tiger painting on the study wall. To him, the beast seemed somehow caged here, made to always prowl in the confines of this room and that picture frame. Jin sat down before his grandfather.

"Jin. How is your training going?"

Jin wasn't sure why he was asking this. Heihachi was the best person to judge, not him.

"I still have much to learn, Ojiisama," Jin went for, and inclined his head.

"And how about your school studies."

Jin was silent. He met Heihachi's eyes. Even after nearly a year, just meeting that gaze could turn Jin back into the anxious child who had knocked on the gates of the estate. Jin's fingers twisted in his lap.

"I hope I'm going to see good exam results from you this year," Heihachi continued. He added leaves to a teapot and then stirred them round. He poured out two cups and set one before Jin. "Hm?" He fixed Jin with a hard look when he didn't answer.

Jin bowed deeper.

"Yes, Ojiisama. I will try my best."

"Try your best?" Heihachi said sharply.

"I will achieve what you ask," Jin corrected.

He'd thought this meeting would be about the formal event Heihachi wanted him at, not school grades.

"Better," Heihachi said. "Now, drink, we have business to discuss."

Immediately, Jin felt prouder. This was the first time Heihachi had offered him a drink in his study, and the way he said 'we have business to discuss' made Jin feel mature and responsible. A relief spread through him.

"In three days' time, you will join me for a formal public appearance."

Jin bowed his head. "What is the event, Ojiisama?"

"A funeral."

Jin paused and frowned. "I am sorry for your loss. Who has died?"

"An esteemed politician, one who was set to run for prime minister. His death was most unforeseen, and the poor fellow had been in good health. He passed away yesterday afternoon, and a large funeral will take place for him in three days' time."

Heihachi was looking at him with canny, bright eyes, that didn't quite seem to match the sombre topic of conversation.

"I see," Jin said. He met his grandfather's gaze, then looked away quickly. "Is this the only event you wish me to attend?"

"For the present, yes."

Then what had Kimura been preparing him for for the last week? His grandfather was still studying him intently. Jin bowed his head.

"I looked forward to accompanying you, Ojiisama, I hope I won't disappoint you."

"I hope you won't too." Heihachi laughed and sat back in his seat, finally relieving some of the tension in the room. "But you're a good boy, Jin, and you've been conducting yourself well, of recent. If I didn't trust in your abilities, I wouldn't summon you to my side for an event as important as this."

Jin was confused and couldn't sort out what he felt just then. Heihachi was always ten steps ahead of him, just like in training. Jin felt small, childish like he hadn't felt in months. He felt grateful too though, and proud. He looked tentatively at Heihachi, holding onto him calling him good and saying he trusted in him.

He sat straighter in his chair and tried to live up to that trust. "What would you like me to wear to the funeral, Ojiisama, and is there anything in particular you wish of me, or should I remain silent by your side?"

"I've had a black suit tailor-made for you for the event, it should be arriving today. I will have you at my side, and send you off when and as needs. I may need some privacy for some conversations. Oh, and you are to speak with the young Mochizuki. There's a young man who'll be attending who's a rising star in the police academy, you and he are going to be friends."

Jin bowed his head in acquiescence. Friends with some rich person's son. Jin somehow doubted that, but he'd put up the appearance anyway if that's what Heihachi wanted. I'm a rich person's son now, too. That was true, although he still didn't feel it most days.

That afternoon, Jin's suit arrived as promised. It was jet black, so that it almost absorbed all light and looked like a hole. The assistant butler, Hayashi, delivered it to him, and Jin couldn't help but ask:

"Doesn't it usually take a few days for clothes to be made to order."

"Usually, yes, Master Kazama." Hayashi was a little younger than Fujita, but still had hair streaked with grey, and silver dashed into his neatly trimmed facial hair.

"Isn't this suit especially for the funeral?"

"That's right, Master Kazama."

"But the man whose funeral it is only died yesterday afternoon…"

"I don't know anything about that, Master Kazama. Perhaps a fast order was put on your clothes."

"But the funeral isn't until three days' time…"

"As I say, I don't know anything about that, Master Kazama. Please excuse me, Kuma needs his fish."

Jin chewed his lip as he tried on the suit, thinking and thinking and trying to make sense of the strange situation. Perhaps his grandfather had some other important event lined up afterwards? Or perhaps the event had been cancelled because of this important person's death. Yes, that was probably it.

The funeral was on a Friday, so Jin had the day off school. That morning, two servants and a butler oversaw him dressing correctly, and someone even brushed his hair, although Jin didn't notice any difference in the way it lay. He had new shiny shoes too that looked like black mirrors, and was given a set of prayer beads to hold. They were large, round, and wooden, and felt comfortable in his hand. He fiddled with them as his appearance was finished off.

When he saw Heihachi, he swallowed. He wore a magnificent black silk haori that flowed from his arms and tied across his chest with a sheer white rope, pinstripe hakama that somehow made him look even taller, and a night black kimono beneath. The white Mishima Zaibatsu logo was embroidered on his chest, a three-pointed blade on crossed feathers. He looked severe, imposing, and impossibly impressive to Jin. Jin fought the urge to drop his gaze and instead straightened in his grandfather's presence and held his chin higher.

Heihachi looked him over and nodded.

They took the limousine into central Tokyo. When the car stopped, there was a crowd beyond its window, some of whom had cameras. Jin's heart pulsed faster. He'd been prepared for a lot of things, but not for crowds and camera flashes. He caught his grandfather's sleeve. Heihachi looked down at him, displeased.

"Jin," he said testily. "I expect perfect behaviour from you today."

"Ojiisama – there are cameras and crowds…"

"And you will conduct yourself immaculately before them."

"Ojiisama – it makes my head-… it makes things fuzzy, and I can't breathe."

Heihachi's eyebrows descended until he looked ferocious. Jin let go of his sleeve, afraid.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Heihachi said, softly. He turned away. The driver was coming around to open the door.

"May I wear my sunglasses?" Jin asked desperately.

Heihachi didn't turn back.

"Do what you must to conduct yourself appropriately."

Then the door was opening, and Heihachi was stepping out. A riot of flashing light glittered in the doorway. Jin shielded his eyes. He scrabbled for his glasses and put them on quickly. Then the door was opening on his side. Jin got out on the far side of the car. There was an armoured car in front and one behind. Tekken Force were emerging from both. Jin walked calmly towards his grandfather. His chest was pounding. He reached Heihachi's side and tried not to cower in his shadow.

A surging crowd of newspaper reporters was around them. Shuttering flashes of cameras were alight in every direction. There were calls and questions from journalists – it was so noisy Jin could barely think. Moments later, Tekken Force were forming up around them. Jin had never been so glad to see that black armour. There was a soldier in red too – he wondered if that was his captain. Between his sunglasses and Tekken Force, Jin was able to keep his eyes averted from the worst of the cameras. His chest still felt tight, and his head was a mess of too many different sensations happening at once. Heihachi was walking now, with the crowds parting as Tekken Force pushed through like the prow of a ship. Jin held his prayer beads tight, taking comfort in their shape and the feel of their wood grain as he walked beside his grandfather.

He heard a journalist's voice cut over the general raucous around him:

"Mr Mishima, is it true that you and the deceased were at odds for most of the last year?"

Heihachi was stopping. Jin looked at him. Heihachi motioned Tekken Force to one side with a hand, and drew himself up before the crowd. He raised his palm and the crowd fell silent. Jin looked on in awe.

"It's no secret that Watanabe Hiroshi and I had our differences, but I am here today as a fellow human being, touched by the loss of such a brilliant man, gone before his time. In business and politics one may have differences, but nothing ranks higher than compassion of the human heart. My thoughts and prayers are with the Watanabe family at this time, and I come here to honour him, with a generous donation from the Mishima Zaibatsu. Thank you."

The crowd burst into questions and chattering again. Heihachi was turning away and Tekken Force were already stemming the gap. Jin wondered if he'd ever be able to act so masterfully cool like that – make a whole crowd quiet and say fancy words. He looked up at Heihachi, respect shining in his eyes.

The funeral was at a large Buddhist temple. An enormous gate into the temple grounds was manned by security in suits, and Jin was very glad to see the press journalists and photographers weren't permitted beyond this point. The gate itself was monumental – a roofed arch, harbouring deities either side of its entryway. They looked fearsome, and reminded Jin of the statues flanking Fudō Myō-ō at the estate dojo. In the doorway itself was an enormous lantern, at least two, maybe three Jins high. Jin stared at it as he walked underneath.

They moved on, walking up a long road lined with smaller shrines until they were under the ornate curled eaves of the main temple. The temple was the biggest Jin had ever seen. Its buildings were painted a brilliant red, and it had its own five-storey pagoda. He didn't crane his neck to look at them though. He knew he had to look straight forward and pretend like he saw incredible things every day. Tekken Force formed up on either side of the temple doorway, and Heihachi and Jin passed in alone.

The temple was filled with guests all in black, sitting in rows. At the door four people in stately black were standing – two young men, a young woman, and an older lady. Heihachi bowed to the older lady and she returned it.

"I offer my condolences," Heihachi said to her.

"You honour us by attending, Mr Mishima," she replied.

Heihachi moved to bowed to the next person. Jin had never been to a funeral before. He copied Heihachi though, and said the same words Heihachi had to the widow, and then to the children. After they'd greeted the family, they came to a desk, where someone wrote their names down in a book. Heihachi drew a fabric wallet from within his kimono. He took an envelope out of this and placed it on the wallet, before setting both on the table.

They were then led down an aisle between the seated guests all the way to the front, to a gilded shrine with gold trappings hanging from its square awning. A coffin was raised before it. Jin saw that there was a portrait of the dead man behind the coffin, surrounded by towering flower arrangements. The man looked serious and stately in his photograph, with hair side-parted and dark eyes looking out judgementally over the guests. He hadn't known when this photo was taken that it would be used here, at his funeral, thought Jin. Beyond the photograph was the shrine itself, with candles upon its altar and statuettes to either side. Everything was glowing and golden and cowed Jin into a revered silence.

Heihachi lit an incense stick, and gestured for Jin to do the same. As Jin held his lit match to the candle, he swallowed. It felt strange to be doing this for a stranger, when he hadn't even- Don't think of that. Not now, not here. He bit his lip. Once he'd snuffed out his match, he stood silently at his grandfather's side. They were shown to cushions reserved for them then, close to the front. Jin was glad when they were seated, he didn't like the room's eyes being on his back.

Shortly, a Buddhist priest seated himself before the coffin. A resting bell was on a pedestal next to him and he struck it, sounding a dull peal through the temple. He started up a sutra chant, low and monotonous. Jin took a deep breath in and let it out silently.

In the repetitive, continuous chant, Jin finally found his nerves dissipating. It was easier to focus with the sung words holding that same note, interspersed with the sound of a gong. Jin knew they were meant to be prayers for the dead man, but he wasn't sure what you were meant to think during a funeral for someone you'd never met. Instead, his thoughts kept going to the unspoken rites for his mother, and wondering fearfully if her spirit wandered Yakushima restlessly. He held his prayer beads tightly and prayer for her spirit, even though he wasn't sure if that was allowed.

After the funeral was over, the casket was opened and the guests were invited up to it. Jin stood in line behind his grandfather, heart beating fast. He was handed flowers to place, and had to try hard not crush them in his anxious grip. When they went up to the coffin, the dead man looked… shrivelled almost: lifeless and ugly with skin loose and grey. His eyes were open and looked straight up at Jin. His mouth was a little parted too, like he couldn't quite believe he was dead. Jin stared at him. He'd never seen a dead body before. He'd seen one shaken around and broken, but he'd been knocked out before he saw it like this – its spirit gone, its skin dull and missing the shine of life. It frightened him.

Heihachi touched his arm and motioned. Jin laid his flowers next to the body, trying not to touch it as he did. He retreated to Heihachi's side as soon as he could, shoulders curling in. Heihachi's hand found his elbow and squeezed almost painfully. Jin looked up at him. Heihachi's eyes were sharp. Jin remembered himself then, and stood prouder.

On their way out the door, each of the guests were handed a small gift bag. Jin breathed easier once he was out of the temple and did his best not to look too shaken. He peered in his gift bag and saw hard sweets, a packet of seaweed snacks, a box of tea, and a packet of salt. He wondered if he could eat the seaweed now.

"Jin." Jin looked up when his grandfather spoke his name. "Now the real business begins. We have a feast to attend."

"Here at the temple?" Jin asked.

"Mm. But first, let's get some introductions in."

Guests were still filing out of the temple. Jin recognised an aging rotund man, he assumed probably from the New Year celebration, though he couldn't remember who he was.

"Heihachi-sama!" The man came and bowed to Heihachi. "And dear Kazama-san." He bowed to Jin too. "So good to see you on this sad day. Please, allowed me to introduce my grandson, Mochizuki Tsubasa."

Tsubasa was a tall, clean shaven young man, with a wave in his hair and an amiable smile. He looked the opposite of his grandfather, except for their noses, which were the same, and stuck out a little. Jin didn't bow to the young man. He instead waited for him to bow first, and then bowed a little shallower after. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a momentary smirk on his grandfather's face.

"I'm Kazama Jin, pleased to meet you."

"Let's leave the youngsters to talk," the older Mochizuki said, beaming so that his round face crinkled like a walnut. He and Heihachi took a few steps away, and Jin suddenly felt very exposed.

"You go to the Mishima Polytechnical School, is that right?" Tsubasa asked.

Jin was guarded. The last thing he wanted to talk about was school. "That's right."

"I went there too! I graduated March of last year. Is Ogawa-sensei still teaching biology – that spiteful little fellow who always made you do questions out the exercise book?"

"Yeah!" Jin said, suddenly enthusiastic. This guy hated that biology teacher too! Maybe it wasn't just him who'd got off on the wrong foot then. He suddenly felt a lot better. "That guy really has it in for me. Even when I give the right answer, he gets mad."

Tsubasa put his hand on his hip. "What's with that? He used to do that to a girl in our class too. I think he's one of those types who likes to be the smartest guy in the room, and when someone threatens that, he has to put them down to feel big. You must be pretty good at biology for him to get all testy with you."

Jin felt some heat coming to his face. He needed to play it cool, and not let compliments go straight to his head. He shrugged some, then remembered Kimura's advice on turning conversations his way.

"I heard you're in the police academy now, and doing pretty well."

Tsubasa smiled. "Yes, although, between you and me, I'm kind of doing well because of our grandfathers." Jin tilted his head and Tsubasa elaborated. "I mean, I'm not bad, I pass everything well enough, but my grandfather was the old police commissioner, and I know Mr Mishima has put in a good word for me. They're promoting me so quickly through the ranks I barely have time to find my feet."

"Wow," said Jin. But his 'wow' was mostly that Tsubasa admitted to nepotism out loud. Wasn't that sort of thing meant to be kept pretty quiet? The guy had a kind of honesty to him that Jin liked. "Sounds a bit rough. I mean – if you're moving departments a lot, you probably don't have time to form good relationships, right?" He thought of how he'd had to start all over again when he moved down two grades.

"I barely get to know anyone and then I'm being moved on, and the people I leave behind resent me and so do the people where I move to. I'm much younger than everyone else and they've all been on the force decades..."

"Can't they promote you slower?"

Tsubasa shook his head. "I meant to make commissioner within two years. And I need experience in high level positions to get it, so not really. Anyway, it's not up to me. You know how it is, older, more important people decide how your life goes."

Jin felt a pang of real compassion for the guy, even if it was for someone who was being catapulted into a well-paid, powerful position through corruption. It wasn't like he had any say in the matter.

"I guess you've got this all still to come with the Mishima Zaibatsu," Tsubasa continued.

Jin looked up from where he'd been lost in thought. It wasn't really the company to confide he had no interest in taking over the business. Besides, like Tsubasa said, Jin had a feeling he wouldn't have much say in the matter.

"Well, still a while before any of that for me. I hope they don't need good grades in biology for running a zaibatsu."

Tsubasa laughed. He had an easy laugh and smiling seemed to come naturally to him. "Hey," he said thoughtfully, "I know our interacting is all arranged and all, but we should hang out some time, Kazama-san. Somewhere that isn't a funeral. It could be nice to sit and chat a while. Shall we exchange numbers?"

Jin panicked internally. Numbers. Mobile phone numbers. What was the proper way to admit he didn't have one? He had to make it look classy rather than because he hadn't been given one.

"I don't really like mobile phones," he gave casually. "I'll arrange for you to come to the estate and join me for the afternoon some time though."

"Okay!" Tsubasa sounded enthusiastic. Jin knew that was good. When you offer to host someone, you placed yourself in a position of power. "Do you need my number? I can write it down for you if you have some paper."

Jin didn't have any paper. He needed to not say that though.

"Not to worry. The Mochizuki family is well known on the estate. I'll have someone ring for you and we can arrange a date then."

He barely recognised the words coming out of his own mouth. Tsubasa bowed to him and smiled. They were ushered into a hall opposite the temple after that. The mourners greeted them at the door again before they were seated. Jin thought Tsubasa would be seated near him, since Heihachi seemed to have plans for their friendship, but the Mochizukis were seated on another table entirely. Jin's heart fell. He glanced around. There weren't any people his age on his table. At the head of the table was the priest who'd conducted the ceremony. He looked very serious, and even Heihachi was given a seat second to him.

Jin watched as bentos were set out at the tables. They looked beautiful, a bit like the one he'd had a new year. He recognised the mourning family now, coming around and filling glasses, while giving quiet murmured thanks to their guests. Jin peered at his bento. He couldn't see any fish, but he was fairly sure there were marinaded slips of cold beef. He glanced over at the priest's bento… He had no meat. Maybe he should become a Buddhist priest, then people would stop giving him meat all the time. Could you become CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu if you were a priest?

There was a slight nudge at his elbow. Jin looked at his grandfather, then realised everyone was lifting up their glasses. Jin lifted his too as a toast was given, then downed it in one. His eyes widened and he gave a cough. Heat flushed through his veins. Someone had poured him sake. Heihachi frowned at him and Jin wiped his mouth, casting his eyes down in embarrassment.

After that, the feasting commenced. Jin ate his food quietly, watching those around him. There were mostly older men in suits at his table, each with quite severe faces and clipped ways of talking. Jin tried to keep to himself without looking too withdrawn. Heihachi was engaged in a conversation with a man opposite him.

"He was nothing if not true to his own stubborn heart," the man was saying.

"Indeed, a little too stubborn at times," Heihachi replied.

"A man with ideals in these times is a rare thing. The kind of corporate reform Watanabe wanted might have rocked the boat, but it wasn't necessarily a bad idea."

"Oh really?" Heihachi asked mildly. "Spoken by someone who's combined assets were small enough to remain largely untouched by the bulk of the proposed legislation."

Jin switched off. Business talk was so boring.

"You must be the young Mishima."

Jin looked up. A man opposite was talking to him. He was an aging fellow with thinning black hair, and lines in his face that gave him haggard jowls. Jin thought quickly, trying to flick through the stages of etiquette in his head. He reached for the sake bottle and refilled the man's cup. The man tilted his head. Then he picked up the bottle and refilled Jin's in turn. Jin wasn't sure what to say. Couldn't they see he was only a teenager? Was it better to refuse or point out the error? The man was lifting his glass to him. Jin scrambled to lift his own. He sipped at it, trying to only take a few drops. He saw the man watching him though, and downed it out of politeness.

"I'm Kazama Jin," he said. An idea occurred to him then. "I attend the school my grandfather built – the Mishima Polytechnical School." He could feel a slight heat in his cheeks as the sake warmed him.

"I've heard good things about it," the man said. He was picking up the bottle again, topping Jin's cup up. Jin looked at the guy, nonplussed. "Mr Mishima is always investing in such noteworthy public services. He's a real asset to the governance of this country."

"Governance?" Jin asked. Hadn't the guy heard Jin say he was underage? He was raising his sake cup to Jin again. Jin had to lift his own in turn and empty it again. He sipped at a bowl of soup after that and hoped his cheeks didn't look as red as they felt. Then his sake glass was being filled again. Jin focused on his soup to divert attention from it.

"I beg your pardon, young man, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Nakagawa Jiro, Minister of Agriculture, Foresty and Fisheries, though I don't expect that means very much to a youngster."

"I know what it means," Jin had said, before he'd even thought.

"Oh?" The man looked interested. Jin wasn't sure he liked that. His expression had gone hawkish and canny.

Jin sipped his miso soup. Then selected a vegetable maki and dipped it in soy sauce. He just needed to stay calm, guard his words. And have pride. He tossed his head a fraction to flick his fringe out of his face. For some reason, he didn't feel as nervous as he had before.

"It means you're a minister who works for the government," Jin said. "You're meant to be responsible for the balance between industry and wildlife protection."

There was a pause.

"Meant to be?" The minister looked amused.

"That's right." Jin sipped his sake. It gave him a kind of confidence, and made the setting less intimidating. His thoughts were turning from etiquette to everything he'd heard about this ministerial position. Quite a lot, over fifteen years, it turned out.

"You sound like you disapprove somehow, young Kazama."

"Well, you're not doing a very good job when it comes to whaling." Jin heard his own voice sort of from a distance, like someone else was controlling it. There was frustration in it and irritability.

The minister's eyebrows descended. "That is a delicate matter, one I'd hardly expect one so young to understand."

"It's not that hard to understand," Jin said bluntly. He drank back the rest of his sake. His eyes were dark with a quiet anger. His cheeks felt flushed. "You're under pressure from industries to see that commercial whaling continues. Monetary gain from this supersedes your interest in abiding by international whaling law."

"I think you're mistaken," the man said coldly. "There is no commercial whaling taking place at present outside of Japanese waters, only scientific research."

"Lethal scientific research, which countless countries have pointed out is a thinly veiled attempt to continue whaling in the Antarctic Ocean," Jin snapped. Something in his chest was starting to boil. Frustration and anger that had been crushed down to size day after day with lessons on how to behave, lessons in school, lessons in the dojo. Always lessons, and never just freedom.

"I think someone cannot hold his sake," the minister said with a pretence of joviality. His smile was empty though.

"Is it true that the World Wildlife Fund published an article saying that your research fails to meet the standard for credible science? I think that's a lot more embarrassing than not being able to hold my sake."

The minister looked angry now. Jin didn't care. He was tired of etiquette and restraint and saying the right thing. He was tired of confining himself to a small box and his only outlet being karate. His limbs felt relaxed and his head felt cocky. He was hot and even a little drowsy. He pointed his chopsticks at the man.

"The ecosystems you're destroying will take hundreds of years to recover, that's if you haven't hunted species to extinction. People like you are the reason the world's going to hell. If more greedy politicians went extinct instead of animals, the world would be a much better place."

"Jin!"

Jin froze. He looked up at his grandfather, cheeks aglow and eyes dark. He had his cup in hand he realised, because Heihachi took it from him now and set it out of reach. Jin's gaze followed the cup slowly, then he looked back up at his grandfather. Heihachi's eyes were like black pits. He spoke softly,

"We're leaving."