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Safe Keep
By Indigo Siren
Disclaimer: Tekken is © to Namco. The characters and situation portrayed within this fan fiction are merely borrowed, though the idea behind the story and the interactivity of this pairing are that of an idea of my own. All rights reserved.
A/N: My one shot at a short Michelle/Baek. Not really a romance, but there is a forming bond. Oh well, angst and drama is here more then anything.
A soldier turned just in time to see a foot slam straight into his face, sending him toppling back onto the dirt in a daze. The woman behind the foot had already taken off without thought.
Michelle gritted her teeth as she ran as fast as she could, trying to escape the hordes of men that were now in hot pursuit of her. Penetrating the Mishima Zaibatsu had been difficult, but for a fact, it hadn't got any easier the minute she was inside. Of course, being the over zealous girl she was, she was bound to get caught; and now, she was on the run from Kazuya Mishima's armed cavalry.
'Mother… I tried…' Michelle's mind was a flurry of sadness, not knowing what Kazuya and his hired help would do to her mother now that she had pulled this stunt. She now wished she had thought before she'd leapt in to try and save the day.
She couldn't get caught now, or they'd surely take the pendant of her tribe. No, she vowed on her father's grave that she'd keep it safe from the dirty hands of heartless swindlers. The spirits were her only help now.
Her boots dug heavily into the dusty ground of open courtyard as she scrambled to escape across the paved stretch. She knew her pursuers were close, but she was faster then them for sure.
She cried out as she felt a bullet scrape past her arm, a narrow miss. She stumbled, but managed to stay on her feet, continuing her escape. Her hand now cupped the bleeding wound, wishing for the nausea that was building inside her throat to go away.
The front wall was so close now; she was coming ever close with every long stride she took. Just a little further…
… It was then she skidded to a halt, right in front of the sumo wrestler, Ganryu. She fell forward onto her knees, looking up at the large man. Her eyes widened in shock. She was in no fit state to face this man.
The footfalls behind her had stopped quite far back. They were leaving her in the capable hands of the Mishima bodyguard.
He stood their rigid, staring down at her, like a second formed wall. Another obstacle in her path. She clenched her lips tightly together, not letting go of her determination.
"Give up now, and you won't be hurt. I will see to it," he said in the softest tone he could, which surprised her greatly.
She stood and wavered, taking a step back, holding her injured arm. "I… I can't. For my tribe… my mother… I can't."
His face slightly faltered though went back to being blank once more. "If you just hand over the pendant, you'll be reunited with your mother. Is the pendant worth your life?"
"It's worth a thousand lives and beyond… all doomed to damnation if it falls into the wrong hands." She watched his face turn pale in a matter of seconds. "Do you understand that this pendant means death?"
He paused, looked down and sighed. He was contemplating his next actions. Time seemed to stall.
"I… I will fight to save my mother and everyone…" Michelle softly proclaimed, her voice nearly scratchy from exhaustion.
He looked up and took in a long breath, stepping aside. She blinked at him, curious and mindful.
"Go," he said. "Fight another day. If you are true to your proclamation of honour, you will fight at full strength. We will see if your cause is just."
She didn't want to go against this now in her time of escape. "We shall see." And she was running again, straight past that bulky mass and towards the wall. She could hear the complaints of the mass of men that had originally been chasing her. What did it matter now, she was nearly home free. With a few swift bounds, she jumped onto high ornamental pillars and jumped to catch hold of the top of the wall, arm starting to hurt worse then ever, but it didn't stop her throwing herself over to the rough gravel below.
Bruce Irvin joined Ganryu's side, the sumo not acknowledging the man.
"What the hell was that!" The kickboxer snapped. "You had her right there and you let her go! Why did you go and do that?"
Ganryu didn't reply, he was just staring captivated the way the young Chang woman had gone.
Bruce suddenly caught on, now crossed between irate and humoured. "You're still pining after that girl. And I thought you'd got over that infatuation."
Ganryu snorted and turned away, walking off. "If she is weak, then what will it matter. She'll be worth nothing then."
Bruce just stood there confused. "You Japanese are screwed up, you know that?"
The sultry seductress Anna Williams stalked over, coming away from her post to join in the action. "Oh, don't worry, the chase isn't over yet. The wounded rabbit can run, but I'm sure she won't get far."
Bruce gave her a cynical stare. "You sure?"
"Just wait and see," she assured him, turning towards the gateway, in which men were pouring out.
Now she had wished she taken Jun and Lei's advice when they had told her not to do anything foolish. But like usual, she never listened and she'd got herself into another scrape. And this time, she didn't know if she could make a good outcome.
She finally came to open tarmac, seeing a few small buildings leading the end of the drive. Distantly behind her, she could hear those soldiers trying to search her out. She blew out a lengthy breath of air, and trotted down the stretch.
"RAGH!" She jumped as a man appeared from one of the booths in the tarmac central, the butt of his gun smashing into her shoulder. She fell forward, though she managed to roll up into a defensive position. It was no time to be going down.
Before he could point the barrel on his, she thrust herself up, arm crooked into a heavy uppercut, which she called 'The Tequila Sunrise', and threw him away with an elbow swiftly into his gut. He skidded like a dead weight across the tarmac.
It was then she began to feel the night's activities take their toll and she was staggering towards the side of two small storage buildings, dropping into the side alley, swallowed by the shadows.
She pulled her knees weakly to her chest, groaning quietly. Every exposed section of skin was covered in patterns of cuts and bruises. Her normally beautifully golden tanned skin was now decorated in an array of purple and red. She gripped her arm tightly; the warmth of the blood was sickening as it seeped through her fingers.
"The bastards ruined my favourite jacket," she griped lowly, wishing to chuckle at the feeble thing, but nothing but a shaky sigh escaped her lips as she inevitably slipped into darkness, head lolling back against the wall.
The soldiers missed her completely, running off along the stretch, still trying to hunt her out. One pair of eyes however didn't miss her.
The man stepped between the buildings, his boots crunching on the small pebbles underfoot. He stared at Michelle's unconscious form carefully.
Baek couldn't help being quite captivated by this young woman, helpless there before him. She'd taken quite a pounding from what he could see. He admired this braveness of hers. It was a pity that he'd have to turn her in to Kazuya. Or did he have to?
"Mr. Doo San, have you found her?" A voice called from behind him.
He turned from the darkness, paused then shook his head. "No… Look back in the woods."
"Right, sir," the man said, and called his men back up towards the Zaibatsu woodlands again.
Baek waited a moment before returning his attention to Michelle. He kneeled down before the fallen woman and brushed the locks from her closed eyes.
'Simply… beautiful…' He thought. 'She doesn't deserve this torture.'
Why he'd had a change of heart all of a sudden, he'd never know, but it seemed all so wrong all of a sudden with the way the ruthless Kazuya Mishima has lay down the law that this girl meant nothing and that pain would be the only way. What way? The way to just making things even worse?
He carefully picked up her limp body within his strong arms, supporting her to his chest, and with ease he carried her away into the night.
The sound of ticking overhead eventually stirred her from what had felt like an endless slumber. Michelle's eyes began to open to a glow of blue, which glimmered in through the large balcony doors across the room. It was quite dark besides the evident moonshine that highlighted parts of the room. She slowly began to sit up, trying to take in these new surroundings, though straight off, she knew she wasn't outside the Mishima Zaibatsu anymore.
'Well, it doesn't look like a prison cell,' she considered carefully, noticing the setting was much more homely. A few pictures hung on patterned walls, polished cabinets and cushioned furniture was spaced around the room. She moved slightly and felt the spring of soft cotton beneath her. Interesting indeed… though, she was wary.
Her hand went to her hair, as she was unsure why it was now hanging down over her shoulders and not in a long braid behind her. Her soft, dark locks hung like silk, tickling her arms and a part of her back. No elastics were there and even her headband with her feathers was gone. Actually, noticing her state, the only thing she was left wearing was her white vest and denim shorts. She could see on an opposing chair that her jacket, long socks, boots and headband rested. Her body was covered though with bandages, sort of makeshift clothing in a sense. She didn't at least feel too naked.
She ached, but didn't experience pain. Her body felt more dull then anything else.
Okay, now that she'd assessed her surroundings and had checked her own present condition, she desperately wanted to know…
How'd she get there and who'd saved her?
"Ah, you're awake," a voice said.
She looked over her shoulder towards the archway that separated the lounge from another hallway. Her guts twisted with remembrance of the Korean man who stood there. She'd seen him a few times before. He worked from the Mishima Zaibatsu. Baek Doo San.
Her instincts had her reacting fast and she was on her feet, keeping a distance between herself and this man. Her head was still fuzzy and her body complaining to this sudden movement but right there and then, she didn't care.
"Woah, slow down, you're hurt," Baek said, putting up his hands.
"So… and you care!" Michelle snapped.
"Actually, I do," he said softly, coming further into the room. "You were hurt and I couldn't just leave you like that."
"Stay back…" She warned, fists up. "I don't trust you Mishima butt kisser types."
"Stop right there," he said firmly. "Working for the Zaibatsu doesn't always make me a bad person."
"Makes most people nearly ninety percent of the time." Michelle wanted to get out as fast as she could.
"You assume too much." He came closer to her, offering slightly parted arms. "Please, lay down, you're still unsteady on your feet."
"Give me a break, as if I'd listen to you. I bet right now your buddies are on their way to come get me and my…" She stopped and felt around her neck, patting the empty spot. "My pendant! WHERE'S MY PENDANT?"
"It's here," he said, going over to her jacket and flicking it back, showing the nestled object resting there. He flipped the jacket back over. "I haven't stolen it. Now please, sit down before you fall down."
She was uncertain, daring to move; though a little voice inside her was willing to trust him. But how could she? It didn't sit well with her. She wanted to take another step back, but it felt as if she was walking on sponge. Her body shook and she felt as if the floor was rushing up to meet her. It was then that Baek's arms were wrapped around her collapsing form, holding her up against him.
"See," he said, leaning to put his arm up her legs, the other one supporting her back. For once, she didn't protest, she was too busy getting her bearings.
He set her back onto the couch carefully, taking a seat on the floor in front of her. She sat there, giving him the most puzzled look, eyes searching his.
"Why?" She asked. "Why are you helping me?"
"Because…" He looked on past her. "It's the right thing to do."
"And you have a great definition of right, do you?" She asked, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
He ignored that. "There is some things I can do, and some things I can't, and one thing I can't do is purposely lead up to a girl's demise." He could see the distress on her face and rose carefully. "I have no intentions of hurting you."
"What about my mother?"
He gave her an assuring look. "I will make sure she isn't harmed."
"How can I trust you?" She said, narrowing her eyes.
He leaned forward to her, arms resting on the edge of the couch. "You're just going to have to trust me here. You have very little choice in the matter."
"That's a bit too much to ask of me at the moment," she answered bitterly. She looked down, her insides quivering. "But I guess… I will let a part of myself trust you."
He nodded, looking slightly relieved. "Thank you."
"Don't put too much faith in me though," she warned. "I have a grudge against the Mishima Zaibatsu that nobody can break."
"Why?" He inclined to ask.
"The Mishimas were responsible for my father's death."
"Oh…" His voice dragged off slowly, turning to stare down at the floor. "My father was killed too…"
"By the Mishima's?" Michelle asked.
"No, I killed him."
Her eyes went wide, willing herself not to move away from him. This man, whom had saved her and promised her safety, was a murderer.
"I can see the harsh judgement in your eyes," he said, voice between cold and hurt. "You do not know the circumstances."
"Does anyone deserve to be murdered?" She questioned.
"I didn't do it on purpose!" He cried out, jumping up and kicking over one of the other chairs. Michelle jumped, clinging onto the arm of the couch. Seeing this reaction of her, this fear, he stopped dead still. He sighed, quivering. "I'm sorry. I should explain."
"You should," she said softly, still rather edgy.
He retook his seat. "My father was a good man, and a great Tae Kwan Do master and he trained my in the art. I always wanted surpass him, do something to impress him. One day, I did a new move I learned when I was in training with him…" He stopped, shaking in his seat, gripping the cushions. "… IT WAS AN ACCIDENT… I swear…"
Michelle carefully leant forward, hand wavering slightly as she rested it on his shoulder, hoping he wouldn't turn around and try and strangle her. He couldn't have been THAT crazy, though she did wonder. He did turn his head partly to look at her, glistening eyes meeting hers. She was surprised. This was a very emotional topic for him.
"I believe you," she answered honestly.
He gulped down slowly and looked down again. "I've lived in guilt ever since that day. I go crazy when I think about it. I do stupid things… I always think people judge me…" He sighed, looking back at her again. "I think that's why I ended up at the Mishima Zaibatsu. It's a place where everyone with some sort of shady background gets salvation."
"Is it salvation?" She asked.
He shrugged. "I don't know. Sometimes I can forget when I'm with these people. Other times…"
She just watched him sit there, suddenly falling into silence. What on Earth was she suppose to say to him to try and heal these wounds that seemed to be split and welling over inside of him. She decided to be bold and moved across the couch to press up against his back, hands wrapping around him. She rested her chin on his shoulder. He went stiff.
Her words came out feather soft. "You know you've done wrong, you've accepted it and you have not lost any honour to it. It's was an accident. Worse scenarios could have happened; yes, even worse then the loss of a family member. But does running into the arms of the darkness, a place of no remorse heal your wounds? Doesn't it make you feel worse that you are doing deeds that are well and truly wrong, worse then when you killed your father, because with that situation, you weren't meaning of it, and sure weren't proud."
Baek shuddered, not even looking at her. "I don't know what is right anymore."
"Whatever you think. You've been trying though…"
He finally decided to look her in the eye. "Why don't you run away from them?"
"Because if I don't fight, who else will?"
He was surprised that she was still ever courageous, willing to risk her life to defend her beliefs and to follow her heart. She really was a true warrior of virtue.
"Why not run away from me now?"
She looked surprised, but it melted. "You want to give me a reason to, because I'm not going to budge." Why ever the hell she said that she didn't know, but it came straight from a hushed part of herself.
He stood, moving away from her arms, though he did miss the warmth against him.
He cleared his throat. "You can use the shower if you want to. I only really cleaned up your wounds earlier. You can borrow some other clothes if needs be; your others are a mess." He turned around to her. "I can get you safely to your hotel. It wouldn't do either of us good if I tried to hide you here."
"No, I guess it wouldn't," she answered and nodded. "Yes, I wouldn't mind a shower. I think I can stand up long enough for one."
He nodded and left the room for a moment, returning moments later with a shirt and a pair of training shorts.
"These are the smallest items I have," he said. "I hope they'll do."
She took them and smiled. "Yes, thanks, they will." She stood rooted, uncomfortable. "Umm… so…"
He chuckled lightly, filling the gap. He rubbed the back of his head absentmindedly. "Umm… the shower is just down the hall."
"Okay…" She peered out. "At the end, huh?"
"That's right…"
She laughed lightly. "Okay, I'll… be right back then…"
"Yes, okay," he said, watching her slowly walk out of the room. Once she'd gone, he slumped into a chair.
'What am I thinking?' He wondered. 'This is crazy… I'm digging a deep grave here. But… she's so… wonderful.'
Michelle was glad to hide behind the bathroom door, back pressed against it hard.
'What is wrong with me? Why aren't I more angry or running away?' She sighed, looking down at the clothes in her arms. 'He just seems… so frail. He needs someone to care.' She shook her head. 'It's the headache talking… or could it be the bullet scratch.'
She put the clothes by the sink and went into the shower cubicle, unravelling her bandages as she went. It didn't take her long to figure out the strange looking taps that were in front of her, and a water spray met her heartily. Finally, she could feel the pain through the numbness as the heat cut into her injuries, beginning the cleansing process.
She didn't spend long in there, as not to keep he waiting on her all night. She finished up; found a towel to dry and suddenly decided against replacing the many bandages she'd taken off. Besides, she wasn't bleeding anymore. The only bandage she replaced was the one for the bullet graze, essentially.
The shirt was white, faded in places. Slipping it on, she realised it was quite large on her and instantly rolled up the sleeved, and buttoned up to cover up her bra, which distinctly could be seen in a major outline through the shirt. The shorts fit snugly when she tightened the drawstring. She scampered out of the bathroom, feeling a lot better then before, but still rather tired out. Well, at least she had an excuse.
Stepping back into the lounge, she saw Baek half slumped in his chair in contemplation. Her presence there again did however pull him back to reality. He stood.
"Ready?" He asked.
"I'll get my boots," she said, going over to her clothes pile and gathering her things. She made sure her pendant was safely back around her neck once more before doing much else. She slipped her boots on and turned to him. "You got a car?"
"Yes, and it was my plan to drive you," he said. "You're in not state to be walking far."
"True, very true," she said softly, finally getting all her things together, and nodding at him. "Right, I'm sorted."
"Good, this way then," he said, leading her out into the hallway and to the front door.
She stared out the window at the blinking lights of street-lamps and house lights, feeling warm to their tiny glows. She missed only having the stars as light at night as she would sit on the fence back at her ranch home and look up until her mother called her out of the cold.
'Mother…' She inwardly pined.
The car stopped and she jumped, breaking her train of thought. She could see the hotel just up the road. She watched Baek get out the car, almost looking blank. She decided to move instead of sit there like a gawking statue. She climbed out the other side, greeted by the coolness of the night air. He came around to her side, taking her arm. He smiled at her and began to escort her down the road.
"You have to promise to take care now," he told her.
"I can't promise that," she said lowly. "I have a tournament to fight in."
"Yes, well, stay out of trouble…" He whispered. "And most of all, watch your back."
"Oh, I will do," she said. "For sure."
They came to a stop outside the hotel and they turned to look at each other. She couldn't help but smile at him. He was trying to hide the blushing. A big man like him shouldn't blush. He handed her the bag of her clothes.
"Maybe… if things turn out different," he said. "Well…"
"You can make them different, you know," she urged. "You can start a new life."
"I wish for it," he admitted.
"Then make it come true."
He paused, breath stopping short of release. What an angel she was to care so much after all this hate that seemed to shroud her heart and will.
"Keep safe… protect yourself and your pendant…" He touched the centre of her chest where the bulge of the pendant was. He could feel her shaking slightly.
"I will do," she whispered.
He suddenly didn't care, his instincts were just thriving on the moment and he slowly leant in to kiss her, waiting inwardly to be slapped across the face. It never came. She took it, enjoying it for some strange reason. They barely knew each other and she was letting his lips touch hers with great affection. The warmth behind them was a wonderful feeling she thought she'd die.
He broke the kiss and could almost see the disappointment in her eyes.
"I'll see you again… right?" She asked.
"Maybe."
"Will you help me?"
He sighed. "I don't know." He saw her sadness. "But don't count me out."
She nodded. "I won't."
He leaned to whisper in her ear carefully, brushing her long hair aside. "I'll be watching."
She shuddered involuntarily. He leaned back, smiling, reaching into that bag of hers and pulling out her feather band, placing it in it's rightful place on her head. She looked extra special with it on while her hair was flowing down.
"Goodbye," he said.
"B-Bye…" She stammered on the departing words and she watched him turn and leave her standing alone in front of the hotel. When he'd taken his car and disappeared, she felt extra cold and frightened. It was the most sudden reaction to this man that made her nervous. She'd almost melted in front of him. These emotions of hers were so confused.
"Michelle?"
The native girl turned, seeing her friend Jun Kazama standing there in the glass doorway.
"Are you alright?" The Japanese woman asked, joining her side instantly.
"I'm fine," she said.
"You're hurt!" Jun's eyes were wide in assessment of the bruised figure in front of her. Michelle shrouded her face more with her hair.
"It's nothing, I'm okay. I need to rest."
Jun scowled. "I should think so. Come on, inside with you."
"Alright, I'm coming," she said, following her friend inside, but not before looking up into the dark night sky.
'Stars… even though you are hiding from these cursed city dwellers… please… watch over me… my mother… and the man known as Baek Doo San…'
