(Hello fans of Tekken! My name is Somestoriesdeservetobetold, and I am a somewhat new writer of fan fictions. This is my second fanfic ever, the first being a Pokémon story. Anyway, I wrote this story because I absolutely love the Tekken universe, and think it is the greatest fighting game of all time. The gameplay, the characters, the backgrounds, all of it collides to form a truly powerful game franchise, one that I hope to be a part of for a long, long time. This story is about Kazuya, my favorite Tekken character, and what his life has become like in the years after Tekken 6. Obviously you read the summary, so you know that this story is going to include Jun Kazama at some point. I don't want to give anything away yet, but I will say that she does not become a part of the story until at least chapter two. For the time being, chapter one is going to be about developing Kazuya as a character, and trying to set the stage for the rest of the story. Do not take this to mean that chapter one is going to be boring, because I assure you it will not. One thing more that I need to say is that I hope you enjoy the hell out of this story, and maybe even walk away from it with a new perspective on the Tekken universe. Thanks!)
Set one year after the events of Tekken 6
Following the defeat of Azazel at the hands of Jin Kazama, the great war has ended. Kazuya, being the only identified surviving Mishima on the face of the earth, has assumed control of the famed Mishima Zaibatsu, and turned it back into the massive corporation it used to be. Peace has returned to the world, but that does not mean all it well. Quite the opposite in fact. Kazuya has become a cold, calculating killer during his time as head of the Zaibatsu, and he has essentially become a monster. He expands and kills indiscriminately; paying no mind to the well-being of others, no matter what their situations might be. He has become the world's strongest, most influential, and most powerful man, but it comes at a price. He is losing his humanity. Everything that used to define him as a fighter has entirely faded, and now the man once known as Kazuya Mishima is but an empty shell. All seems lost, until a familiar voice from long ago finds its way back into his life.
Could he truly be seeing Jun Kazama, the one girl that ever touched his heart?
Or has Kazuya Mishima finally started to snap?
Power is everything.
Kazuya Mishima quietly looked out over the sprawling city before him, and reflected on simpler times. Back when he was still much younger, much more energetic , and much more reasonable.
Reasonable? Was it reasonable or was it just naïve? He thought to himself
Down below him, bright lights and dull buildings exploded forth, and stretched from the base of his tower to the far side of the horizon, literally as far as the eye could see. He knew that down there in the city, millions of insignificant people mulled about on their daily routines, going about their pathetic lives as if they were actually important.
Naïve... It was definitely naive. He decided.
He remembered how there was always a conflict back then. Always some piece of him deep down that opposed his desires and wants. That piece used to make him feel unsure about his choices, or curious, or worst of all, guilty.
Such weaknesses had left him now, as he felt no such feelings any more. No worry, curiosity, or guilt. Every choice Kazuya Mishima made was one that he agreed with fully, and never once did he let himself question if it was right.
Guilt leads to questioning, questioning leads to hesitation, and hesitation leads to weakness. There is no other way.
Looking back on his long life, he felt no regret. Of course, there were moments he wish hadn't happened, such as the numerous defeats at the hands of his father and his son, but he did not blame those losses on himself.
They helped me. All those losses. All those defeats. They showed me what I was doing wrong, and they proved to only confirm the thoughts I had been debating all along. They were disgraceful, but they were necessary.
Standing with his arms crossed, Kazuya took one last glimpse across the city, then turned and walked away. He walked across his office, straight past his sleek black desk and on towards the door at the far end. Located at the very top floor of the Mishima Zaibatsu building, Kazuya's office was the tallest point throughout the entire city and perhaps even the world.
When he told his engineers to design the building, he only had three demands;
Two hundred stories.
My office goes at the top.
Do it in a year.
Of course, the mere thought of erecting a two-hundred story building in one year was completely preposterous, but no one had the audacity to deny Kazuya's request. His rage and sheer power were well known all across the world, as he was famous for being not only the head of the largest business enterprise ever conceived, but also for being the son of the infamous warlord Heihachi Mishima.
Anyone stupid enough to question his wishes would surely have been killed on the spot, so when the call went out for builders to erect a skyscraper in one year, there wasn't a single soul that refused to help.
Lo and behold, one year after Kazuya Mishima's startling ascent to head of the Mishima Zaibatsu, the skyscraper was complete. On the three hundredth and sixty-fifth day, Kazuya personally visited to see what had been accomplished. A team of engineers and architects led him on an extensive tour of the building, during which he maintained a perfectly stoic nature, devoid of all emotion. But at the finale of the tour, which ended on the 201st floor, or the roof, disaster struck.
Kazuya happened to notice a large metal antenna lying on the ground when he arrived at the roof, and immediately demanded to know what it was for. Cautiously, one of the original engineers that Kazuya had ordered to build the building tried to explain. Apparently, the antenna was supposed to broadcast and receive signals with one of the many orbital installations around planet earth at the time. Since the installation that it would be communicating with had yet to be built up in space, the engineer had realized that it would be pointless to waste time installing it, and instead save it for the very last step of the project. He explained that an installation crew as supposed to show up and complete it two days ago, but that there was a mix up with scheduling and that they would be coming early the next morning to finish installation.
Kazuya asked the man to repeat what had been asked of him exactly one year prior. Cautiously the man said that he had been asked to complete a skyscraper in one year. Then, Kazuya asked the man how many days will have passed once the antenna was installed. The man replied that it would be three hundred and sixty six. One day too late.
And it was NOT a leap year.
Without saying another word, Kazuya grabbed the man around the throat, carried him over to the side of the building, and threw him off, where he fell two hundred stories to his death. Each of the other builders watched on in horror and Kazuya walked away in silence. From that day forward, every human being knew to take Kazuya Mishima seriously. Or else.
I feel no remorse for that man's death. He was a worthless individual to begin with, and his failure to build my skyscraper in the time I asked of him was only proof that he couldn't work for me.
Kazuya walked across the wide-open office and into a nearby door, which housed his sleeping and living quarters. Once inside, he walked past a large velvet bed, and into his dressing room. Closing the door behind him, Kazuya looked clapped his hands and a full-size mirror lowered down from the ceiling. A familiar sight greeted him.
Kazuya looked exactly how he liked to. Black dress shoes, black leather slacks, a purple shirt and a black vest. It had come to be his trademark outfit, and he had several pairs of the same clothes in his closet nearby. His face was adorned with a simple frown, which actually looked like more of a scowl than anything else. He knew smiling was a waste of time, and generally displayed no emotion whatsoever, unless he intended to. A long, snaky scar was plastered across his face from his left ear to his right cheek, a scar that never seemed to go away as he aged.
He remembered when he first got the scar, as a particularly sharp rock sliced through his face when he was just a boy, and climbing defiantly up a wet mountainside. He remembered being thrown down off that cliff by his father, Heihachi Mishima, and he especially remembered how much he despised his father for doing it. Literally the only thing that kept him alive as he climbed up those rocks was the sheer hatred he felt towards his father, and how for all of his life, that hatred had refused to leave.
A long scar on the face was not the only injury he had received during that terrible fall and subsequent climb. Most prominently, he wore an enormous gash across his chest that sometimes would glow a dull orange color each time he felt himself grow angry. Also coming from that fall were cuts and scars that completed covered his body, making them too numerous to count.
In addition to mere cuts and gashes, Kazuya's body was covered with a multitude of horrific burns. These, he had received after being thrown into an active volcano by his father at the conclusion of the second Tekken tournament. That was an injury that he almost did not recover from, and only managed to survive thanks to the extreme regenerative capabilities of a formerly independent company; The G Corporation. Of course, the company no longer existed, as it had been bought out by the Zaibatsu and its name had been changed.
All in all, these horrible injuries had turned his body into a devastated, broken mess. But Kazuya did not care. The scars did not impede his strength, and if anything, they only helped to strike fear into the hearts of those who challenged him and saw him bare-chested.
Fear is, after all, just another route to power.
Blinking once, he looked at his eyes and saw that, as usual, one of them was colored a deep red. This strange defect had also been acquired thanks to his mountaintop banishment, and the evil spirit of the devil that now resided within him. That was a subject he chose not to dwell upon at the moment, but it was nonetheless one of the most horrifying things about him as a whole.
Bulging under the tight purple shirt were Kazuya's impressive muscles, which had been chiseled and honed thanks to years of intensive training and fighting. Covered in scars, they had been pushed to the extreme by Kazuya on a daily basis, and without any regret. His single body contained more destructive capabilities than a small army, making it practically a superpower in and of itself.
Taking off his trademark vest outfit, he slipped into a pair of long, white karate pants, which had also come to be closely associated with him. With a purple flame design on one leg and a red flame design on the other, these pants gave off a look of immense power and immeasurable honor. He also tied on two red foot guards that did little to actually protect his feet, but nonetheless were an essential part of his outfit.
Finally he walked over to a nearby desk and sat down. On the desk there was a single wooden box, ornately carved and intricately designed. It was a very simple-looking box, like something a wood craftsman would make. It had one keyhole on its front side, which was very unique in itself. That single keyhole, while appearing to be a simple metal protection device, was actually a deceptive trap. If any kind of key or foreign object should ever enter through it, then several tiny electronic sensors would be set off, immediately alerting Kazuya of the intrusion via his cellphone.
Not only did it let Kazuya know whenever his special box was being broken into, but it also gave off a 3000 watt discharge as soon as the motion sensors registered a key being inserted. This electricity was designed to travel out of the box, through the metallic key, and directly into the hand of the person trying to break in, causing instant death. Such brilliant and devious devices as this could be found everywhere throughout Kazuya's tower, due to the fact that he always demanded the best. No simple lock or security system ever pleased him. He needed the best.
After pondering his special electrical defense system for a little while longer, Kazuya finally picked up his arms and brought them around to either side of the box. Placing both of his index fingers on opposite sides of the carved box, he inhaled and then exhaled deeply. Immediately, two small high-tech sensors turned on, and began reading his fingerprints. After confirming the identity of the man holding the box, it gave off a slight clicking noise, then unlocked.
Kazuya released his grip, and slowly opened the lid. There, lying perfectly in the center of the box, were two red gloves.
These gloves were Kazuya's most prized possession. He wore them when he first defeated his father in the original Tekken tournament, and had subsequently carried them to each tournament since. Countless bones had been crushed at the mercy of these two simple gloves. Even more blood had been spilt by them as well.
Kazuya was a man that believed souvenirs or nostalgic artifacts were a stupid idea, but for some reason, these two simple gloves were the exception. Suits have come and gone, pants had come and gone, foot guards had come and gone, buildings had come and gone, engineers had come and gone, women had come and gone… but never the gloves. They were the closest thing he had to friends, and he treasured them immensely.
He carefully picked them up and inserted his hands. They slid on quickly, locking into place just before his wrists, as they had done a million times before. They felt comfortable on his hands, giving him a sense of familiarity. Flexing his fingers one more time, Kazuya exhaled, and stood up from the desk.
Turning around and walking straight out of his bedroom, he reentered the office. The phone on his desk blinked with a dull red light, indicating that he had one missed call. Kazuya glanced at the dot once, then continued walking, choosing to completely ignore whoever was on the other end.
Whoever it is, they will wait for me. They always do.
Not giving his phone another thought, Kazuya walked to his front door and calmly watched as it slid open automatically. Placing one foot out of the office, he exited the room and made his way down a long hallway. Countless doors littered the otherwise perfectly whitewashed hallway, making the entire area appear like it was some high-tech hospital. However this corridor was anything but. It was actually the corridor that led to Kazuya's training room, and to his workout room below.
Kazuya reached the end of the hallway, and stood in front of another whitewashed door. A small pad was attached to the side of the door, upon which Kazuya placed his hand. It used electric pulses to analyze his fingerprints, then glowed green as it recognized the familiar pattern. The door slid open abruptly, and Kazuya stepped inside.
Clapping once, Kazuya turned on every light in the workout room, and was greeted with an intimidating sight.
Intimidating, that is, to anyone but me.
The room was a perfect square, approximately 200 feet across, with one large circular imprint on the ground in the middle. The entire room was colored white, except for this circle, which was pitch black. Kazuya stepped into the center of the circle and crossed his arms.
They had better not be late. He thought.
Just then, a PA system blared to life. A timid voice appeared over the intercom, addressing Kazuya directly.
"Ah… yes, hello Mr. Mishima. I see you are ready for your daily training routine." It said.
Kazuya did not move, but simply stood still with his arms folded across his chest and his eyes focused on the large observation platform jutting out from the wall across the room. He knew that behind those tainted black windows, a full team of combat specialists and robotic engineers were eagerly seated at computer stations, each awaiting the begin of the session.
Picking up on Kazuya's silence, the voice continued. "Well, as you instructed of me, Mr. Mishima, I have designed a potential remedy to the uh… problem… we have been running into recently." It said.
Kazuya still did not move.
"As you are aware, all of your sparring partners seem to be getting seriously injured each day you fight with them, so my team and I have come up with a solution to this problem. As usual, you will be sparring against several combat volunteers today, but the difference this time is that they will be outfitted in a way to help them-"
"Don't give it away." Said Kazuya coldly.
The man on the end of the PA system coughed nervously. He knew that Kazuya preferred to not have any advantages when he practiced, as to strengthen his abilities. Telling him what adjustments have been made would give the man an unfair advantage over his sparring partners, thus lessening the potentially beneficial repercussions of his entire fight.
"Uh… yes, I'm very sorry Mr. Mishima. Do forgive me. I assure you that you'll enjoy today's training session, as well as the new technology being employed. As I do not wish to ruin your session or delay it any further, I will thus begin your training regimen and send in the first three fighters. Do you wish for me to proceed?"
Kazuya did not move.
The man quietly waited, then perceived this as a yes, which it was. He carefully turned off the PA system and turned to his fellow workers.
"Let's get moving! Send in the new fighters, and make sure they are the right ones! We're looking for group A1, with the mark-8 combat armor! Now go! Or else Kazuya will start getting mad!"
Hurriedly, the workers pressed buttons on their computers, and transmitted several codes to the arena below. Directly below the observation platform, a large sliding door opened, and three men stepped out. The door shut loudly behind them, and immediately the room grew quiet. All lights in the room were turned off except for one that shone directly on the black circle, illuminating only Kazuya and his three opponents.
The three men looked like any other fighters, except they appeared to be wearing armor. Kazuya looked the men over thoroughly, and tried to discern what alleged advantage they now held.
Clearly, he reasoned, the body armor is what I'm supposed to be impressed by.
Kazuya eyed the men closely, taking in every detail. Their armor was a dull tan color, covering their torsos, arms, shoulders, legs, kneecaps, hands, and neck. They also wore large, bulking helmets apparently designed out of the same material that left so little skin exposed; the men had to squint to see out of a tiny eye slit so they could see.
Kazuya took note of the fact that the armor appeared specifically heavy around the neck area, and around the shoulders.
Makes sense, since those are two of the most commonly hit areas. He thought.
The three men took fighting stances, then slowly approached Kazuya. He did not unfold his arms, but continued to observe them as they made their way across the arena.
They can't just be bulletproof. He wouldn't be stupid enough to come up with bulletproof vests. He knows that I wouldn't be impressed by something so unoriginal. I've fought plenty of fighters wrapped in bulletproof armor, and they were no match for me. If these stupid trainees truly are wearing standard issue vests, then we are going to have a problem.
Kazuya noticed that the men moved much more fluidly that he expected them too. Usually body armor was very large and hard to move around in, but for some reason, the men appeared to have no trouble doing so. They walked carefully closer, coming dangerous close, but Kazuya did not care. He knew that if any of them tried to strike him from so far away, he would simply dodge out of the way.
Not even unfolding his arms, Kazuya continued to observe.
Tan coloring, light material, designed to reduce impact from hard combative blows. Clearly the substance cannot be any kind of metal or steel. Such a proposition would be ridiculous. No… It must be something else…
Finally, one of the men broke into a run. He yelled loudly as he charged, but thanks to the armor he was wearing, very little sound penetrated. He threw back his arm and geared up to throw a punch right at Kazuya's face, who somehow still remained calm.
Well, he thought, I suppose I'll just have to find out what they're made of the old fashioned way. Fine by me…
The punch came whizzing along, dangerously close to Kazuya's head, but it ended up missing within mere inches.
Kazuya had sidestepped, and the blow had missed completely. Not missing a beat, he unfolded his arms and slugged the man in the gut as hard as he would allow. His speed was astounding, and the loud thud made upon contact confirmed his hit's power.
The man buckled over in pain, and leaned forward sharply. Kazuya took the opportunity and karate chopped the back of his neck, creating another loud thump, and sending the man crashing to the ground.
This man is pathetic. But his armor is interesting… I must figure out what it is made of…
The second man approached from Kazuya's left, taking a much more cautious approach. His fighting stance was very typical, and Kazuya was able to read him like a book.
Stance indicates a basic understanding of martial arts. Strong left kick and right punch, but his left arm is horribly underpowered, and his right leg is underdeveloped. Clearly the man relies too heavily on certain aspects of his style, leaving other areas weak. Exploit the right leg, and apply pressure to the left arm.
Kazuya took the man by surprise and jumped directly at him. He fired a quick jab, which the man blocked by turning to the side and holding up his right arm. This left his right leg exposed, which Kazuya kicked at. He made contact at the shin, and the man leant forward slightly.
It was all Kazuya needed, for as soon as the man began to lean, Kazuya dashed forward and grabbed the man around the top of his helmet. Kazuya yanked down on the helmet, causing the man to start falling forward, much harder now.
As he fell, Kazuya used his other hand to grab his opponent's left wrist. Locking his hand firmly around the wrist, he spun the man in a circle and twisted his arm backwards.
"Gahhh!" He screamed as Kazuya twisted the man's arm further and further backwards. The man flailed his legs and one free arm around in all directions, apparently in a state of panic.
He is panicking and letting fear take over his reason. A true fighter should be able to break out of this hold easily…
Letting go of the man's wrist, Kazuya pushed him and sent his opponent stumbling backwards. It gave him an opportunity to deliver the final blow, which he decided to employ in the form of an Oni Front Kick.
Pivoting on his front leg, Kazuya spun around and thrust his leg forward, kicking the man in the chest. With tremendous momentum and power. A loud thud could be heard, then the man flew into the air, backwards and out of the black circle. He made a crashing sound as the man collided with the wall on the far side of the room, but it was too dark to see that far.
Two down. Pathetic. Thought Kazuya.
The third man circled Kazuya, staying close to the edges of the circle. Although Kazuya could not see his eyes underneath all the heavy armor he wore, he could tell that the man was observing him carefully.
This one is watching me… trying to learn my technique…
Kazuya picked up his leg and slammed it down on the ground in front of him, then slowly spread his arms in his deadly fighting stance. He lined up his hands with his eyes, and focused intently on the armored man before him.
Both fighters watched each other, perfectly still and as unmoving as statues. Meanwhile, in the observation room, the engineers and technicians were sweating with anticipation. Weeks of hard work had gone into developing these suits, and so far, they had been no match for the famed fighter Kazuya Mishima.
"Don't worry." Said the lead engineer, who was also the man who spoke on the PA system. "This one is different from the other two. I can see it in the way Kazuya is standing. He can recognize it as well…"
Although Kazuya was indeed watching the man's motions, he was much more focused on the strange armor that he wore.
Perhaps Vectran-spun LCP… Its hydrobenzoic acid properties coupled withhydroxynaphthalene-2 would make it effective in terms of temperature… with a melting point of 330 degrees Celsius; it would be a creative choice if nothing else…
The man continued to stare at Kazuya, aware that he was being observed, and doing his best not to give any information away in the process.
Perhaps Nylon 6-6… the hexamethylenediamine acts as fortifier for the synthetic, making it unusually strong under stress…
Finally the man stopped, right in front of Kazuya, and the whole room held its breath as the two fighters prepared to engage.
Suddenly. The man lunged. It was an uppercut, meant to disrupt Kazuya's balance and break his stance.
Kazuya leaned out of the way and kicked forward, hitting the man in the chest. His kick was not powerful enough to knock the armored man down, but it was easily strong enough to knock him back a few steps. Regaining his balance, the man stepped forward and fired several quick punches in Kazuya's direction.
High jab. Misses.
Low swing. Blocked.
Middle swing. Blocked.
High swing. Misses.
Low jab. Misses.
High jab. Blocked.
Side chop. Blocked.
High swing. Misses.
High jab. Blocked.
Kazuya didn't even break a sweat as he dealt with the man's blows. One after another they came, and one after another they failed to connect. He waited until the man fired one more high swing, then spun around and filled the space where his arm used to be.
Continuing his spin, Kazuya extended his elbow and held his fist up high, letting the back of his wrist collide with the man's head.
Normally such a hit would have felled an opponent, but the man merely shrugged it off thanks to his armor.
Kazuya did not give the man a chance to counterattack, however, but instead swung his arm down until it was horizontally oriented, then he pulled back and dug his elbow into the man's chest.
Even with the body armor, the hit sent him staggering.
Kazuya followed up by spinning around to face the man, then firing into a flurry of punches and kicks.
High jab. Hits.
Middle jab. Hits.
Low kick. Hits.
Right chop. Hits.
Left chop. Hits.
Right chop. Hits.
High kick. Hits.
High jab. Hits.
Low kick. Hits.
Middle swing. Hits.
High jab. Hits.
Roundhouse kick. Hits.
Kazuya landed on the ground after completing his flying roundhouse, and quickly analyzed his foe. His balance was completely off, and one light, well placed hit would knock him down.
He briefly debated delivering one small jab to knock the man down, but decided against it.
Taking a huge step forward, Kazuya found himself right up against the man, with his face inches away from the strange helmet. He planted his foot firmly on the ground, then threw back his arm as far as it could go, and launched it forward.
The uppercut accelerated faster than most jet planes could, and in a matter of mere milliseconds was already travelling roughly fifty miles per hour. It moved with such momentum and force that the few spectators present could barely even comprehend it as it flew by.
As it accelerated, Kazuya released his dark electrical powers, and his fist began crackling with blue electricity.
The punch made contact, and an extremely loud noise echoed throughout the room. Two loud noises that is, one right after the other.
"AHHH!" Screamed the man as he lurched forward and collapsed on top of Kazuya's fist.
Kazuya still held his hand at the exact spot in space where he had made contact, as was customary for him to finish his fights with. Sizzling electricity flowed throughout his veins, and it made him feel more alive than he had in a long time.
The man moaned and cursed as he tried to clutch at the spot where Kazuya had hit him. Kazuya, however, held his stoic pose for several seconds before finally relenting and returning to his original standing position.
The man fell out of the air where he had been suspended, and landed on the ground with a thud. He cursed once again, then moaned loudly in pain as he clutched his abdomen.
Kazuya crossed his arms and looked down at the man before him.
He was better than most… but not good enough.
The lights around the arena switched on suddenly, and filled the room with blinding white light. The other two men from earlier could now be seen, lying unconscious at different spots across the room.
The wide door opened again, and a team of men in white lab coats rushed out. Most of them ran to the downed fighters, but one man instead walked over to Kazuya.
He wore a traditional white lab coat like the others, but something was clearly different about him. His hair was a sleek silvery color, glimmering in the harsh lighting, giving off a very regal and professional appearance.
Regal and professional were definitely not the traits that this man exhumed, however, because he sheepishly came up to Kazuya and tried to avoid eye contact with the man as he spoke. His body seemed to quiver in fear, and he nervously fumbled his hands in his pockets.
Finally, Kazuya spoke.
"It was Kevlar. Kevlar KM2."
The man looked up with wide open eyes and a surprised expression on his face. "How did you know that?" he asked.
"I could feel it." Replied Kazuya, who remembered feeling the specific texture of Kevlar as he brought up his fist for the final punch.
Kevlar was a military-grade synthetic fiber that was usually employed just for the harshest jobs, such as artillery coils, exterior tank storage, and bomb disposal. Such a material was very hard to come by, and Kazuya knew that the man must have put much work into synthesizing and developing such a fiber.
Kazuya also knew that the man had adjusted its chemical makeup, adding several key reactants that strengthened the substance while not compromising its overall durability. All in all, the work truly was an impressive feat of science, and Kazuya had to admit, he was impressed.
The silver-haired man spoke again. "I… I spent many weeks with my team trying to develop this particular strand of Kevlar KM2, and according to test results, it should have held up today."
"Clearly it did not." Shot back Kazuya as he eyed the man lying on the ground.
The cracking sound that came shortly after he delivered the final blow was none other than the sound of the man's ribcage being shattered into thousands of pieces. The man currently was in a state of pain and terror that exceeded anything he had ever felt in his life, but Kazuya still did not feel bad about anything.
Perhaps if the armor was stronger, then he would still have a functioning ribcage…
The silver-haired man looked down at the armored man with the broken ribcage and sighed. "I know, Mr. Mishima, that it is your preference to try as hard as you can during practice times, but perhaps, just as a suggestion, you might not lose as many sparring partners if you relented a little bit…"
Kazuya thought carefully for a moment. Over the past few months, he had been brutally injuring many of his sparring partners, some so severely that they would never be able to fight again. Sometimes he would break their bones, sometimes he would puncture their organs, and sometimes he would leave them with debilitating neurological disorders, thanks to head injuries.
This had been the "problem" that the silver-haired man was referring to during his PA announcement. And it was the very same problem he had been hoping to fix by introducing the Kevlar KM2 armor. Unfortunately, his plan had failed.
"Sir… I apologize profusely. If you would find in in your graces to give me one more week, then I promise that I will find something stronger. I promise you." He begged.
Kazuya looked at the man closely.
Hard to imagine that this whimpering fool had once been considered my equal. He dared to challenge me, and as I predicted, he was utterly destroyed. Now the tables have turned, and he answers to me.
"Listen Lee." Started Kazuya. "The only reason I bought your company in the first place was so I could get new technologies and designs. Remember what you told me the day I spared your life?"
"Yes, Mr. Mishima. I told you that I would never fail you and stay faithfully by your side, no matter what."
"Indeed. And what have you done here today…?"
Lee looked at the man in the Kevlar suit being carried off towards the medical bay on a stretcher, then gulped. He was terrified. "I… I have failed you…"
Kazuya leaned in close to Lee's face, bringing his eyes within Inches of Lee's.
"Give me one good reason not to kill you this instant." He threatened through grated teeth.
Lee tried not to look into Kazuya's eyes. Every fiber in his mind was desperately trying to think of something to say, but he failed to come up with anything. Ever since Kazuya had assumed control of the Mishima Zaibatsu, and bought out Violet Industries from under him, Lee was a changed man.
No longer was he the suave ladies-man he once thought himself to be. He spent most of his days locked up in laboratories, manufacturing new and expensive equipment for his tyrannical boss Kazuya. Violet systems had ceased to exist, bought out and overhauled completely by Kazuya's financial team. On that day, Lee realized that his entire life's work was whisked away in one second, and he was nothing.
"I'm waiting." Said Kazuya again, still full of rage.
Lee finally choked out an answer and weakly stated it. "I will improve the Kevlar further, sir. It will be… the best."
Lee looked up at the man who held the key to his life and quivered with fear. He knew what Kazuya was thinking. If he failed one more time to deliver, he would be killed, without hesitation and without grace.
"We'll see about that." said Kazuya as he gave the man one more menacing look, then turned and began to walk away. As he walked, he unfolded his arms and let them hang heavily at his sides. He stepped outside of the door, and vanished into the hallway beyond.
Now Lee stood as the only person remaining in the entire room. All his staff, his fighters, and even his boss had left. He looked down at the ground and sighed.
There, lying on the floor, was a tiny piece of tan fabric. He bent down, picked it up, and looked it over. It was a piece of Kevlar, a mere piece of what used to be his most successful synthetic discovery ever.
"Militaries, hospitals, space programs, corporations… all these and more… they would kill for a fiber like this." He said out loud. Nobody was around to hear him, though.
"It could have saved lives, it could have made money, it could have been a force for good… but no." he said. "It had to be discovered here. Discovered here, while under the watch of the single man on earth who would ignore it's potential."
He dropped the Kevlar pieced on the ground and kicked it with his foot. The piece slid several yards away, then stopped at the edge of the circle.
"To Kazuya, it is just a failed piece of yarn. Just a stupid piece of yarn…"
He placed his hands back into his pockets and sighed again. Then he turned slowly to face the maintenance exit, and walked away.
His was nothing.
And he knew it.
End Chapter One
(Thank you for taking the time to read my story! I know Jun Kazama wasn't seen at all here, but I assure you, she will make an appearance in chapter two. Right now the story just encompasses Kazuya and Lee, but I plan to bring in many different characters from the Tekken universe, and explore what roles they played throughout the subsequent story to come. This includes Jun, as well as many more! Stay tuned for chapter two, and please review! I would love to hear what you think about my writing! Good or bad, hit me with the truth!)