AN: I'm not dead...although at times, I feel like I am. Let's just say I had terrible burnout and simply withdrew from everything - I'm still not over it, but I did manage to pull this together. So, Tekken 8? That trailer got me back into gear, even re-installed T7, and I started reading some Jin/Julia fics. There are good ones out there, but unfortunately, they're all incomplete, and I decided to try and change that a little by doing one of my own. Let me say, I am not a fan of Julia's streamer persona in 7, and I think it's a downgrade from her story in 6, which I believed had promise and even similarities to Jun's T2 storyline, since Julia entered to stop Jin and Kazuya from clashing (hell, even Asuka had that same storyline and how did that turn out for her? Still feuding with Lilli, but that's a rant for another day). Anyways, hope you enjoy.

History repeats itself.

She first met him as a child, not even nine years old at the time. Their mothers had become good friends during the King of Iron Fist Tournament 2 and parted ways at its conclusion but remained in touch through occasional letters, until one day, his mother decided to arrange a visit at her mother's request.

She saw him as a shy, timid child, a contrast with her outgoing and boisterous personality, but she wanted to be friends with him immediately, drawn in by his quiet. They shared a love for nature, which they explored around her property with great enthusiasm, and their adventures, which included encounters with buffaloes and a lone coyote, broke him out of his sheltered shell. He had hardly been around other children his age, he'd explained, always living in the secluded mountains, and thus, she was the first true friend he had the chance to make. That left her swelling with pride, she remembered, declaring that they should stay in touch like their mothers.

She remembered his smile at her statement, a full proper smile, something she would always treasure.

She was disappointed when he had to leave and return home, reaffirming that she would write to him and expressed her hope that he could visit again (another reason was that she wanted a conclusion to their sparring match. It felt great to use her fighting skills against someone equally as competent, unlike her classmates, but their mothers had interrupted and quickly put an end to the sparring session).

She kept in touch with him as best she could over the next five years – until one day, he never replied. At first, she put it down to the mail getting lost in the overseas travel, but when her second and third letter went unanswered, she had a feeling that something was wrong. It wasn't like him to ignore her suddenly – she wasn't annoying him, she could tell in his letters that their correspondence was genuine – and she wanted answers, but at fourteen years old, she couldn't exactly just travel to Japan on a whim and find out.

Then, she finally received the news from her mother, and it wasn't what she expected.

His mother had perished, and apparently now, he was residing with his paternal grandfather, seemingly out of reach permanently from her letters.

Her mother was worried sick after that revelation, and she often catch her murmuring to herself about something called 'Toshin'. The first time she tried to ask her mother about Toshin, she was told to never ask about it again in such a fierce manner, coming from her mother, that it frightened the young teenager. She'd wondered if this 'Toshin' had any connection with the loss of communication with her friend and she decided to try and get to the bottom of it.

She didn't hear from him again, and as the years passed by, she focused on her studies and her martial arts, choosing to dive into archaeology after her schooling was complete. As she got older, the murmurs of Toshin increased, not only from her mother, but also from her tribe, but she could never get any solid answers on him, only a vague reference on how he was a legend to her adoptive ancestors.

Until she turned eighteen and the Third King of Iron Fist Tournament was announced.

She wanted to enter to get a chance to see him again, but her mother forbade it, sat her down, and finally told her about Toshin (Ogre, as her mother called it) and how he was unleashed upon the world. How her mother was going to Japan instead and hopefully regain her father's pendant.

She finally entered the prestigious tournament when her mother failed to return or contact her, and she was reunited with him.

Spirits help her, he'd grown into a handsome man, and something sparked inside her that day. Though she noted that the naïve curiosity in his eyes was replaced by hardened resolve and the desire for vengeance, she hoped to pick up their friendship where they'd left off.

Thankfully, he didn't seem to have any objection to that, greeting her with a warm smile that brought life to his eyes, if only temporarily. Then she remembered why she was here – to save her mother from his grandfather's clutches and retrieve the family pendant. She told him about Ogre and his grandfather's involvement, clearly shattering his worldview on the old man, but he offered his help, which she gladly accepted.

He apologised for not contacting her for the past four years, stating that his grandfather wouldn't allow it, on top of the brutal training regime he went through in order to face the monster who slaughtered his mother. She warned him that he couldn't let his life be consumed by vengeance – he stated he had nothing else.

She reminded him of friendship, not just her own, but from the other competitors as well, such as the Chinese fighter clearly infatuated with him, or the asshole Korean, who really had a heart of gold when he allowed it to be seen.

He considered it, but still wanted Ogre's blood on his hands, and she relented.

The conclusion of the tournament was wild – she'd lost her fight but managed to find her mother. She didn't know what happened to him, but learnt from her mother that Ogre had been destroyed for good, and while she wanted to get payback, her mother dissuaded her, reminding her that she was taught to fight to protect, not destroy.

She remembered hearing gunshots within the temple but escaping with her mother alive was her main priority and she knew the Tekken Force were involved, no dealt playing their part in eliminating Ogre.

If only she knew the true ending to that story…

She went home with her mother, waiting for word from him, but it never came, just like before. She couldn't help but feel disappointed, and so, she went back to her studies, this time focusing on reforestation as her homeland came under threat from encroachment. She worked extremely hard in her experiments, even joining G Corporation for further studies, where she was able to make progress – until the night G Corporation was raided and her research was stolen in the process.

Filled with despair, she soon received a strange email from an unknown party, warning her of the dangers of the Mishima Zaibatsu, but damn it, they had her data and she desperately needed it back. Whoever had sent that email, she would find out once she recovered her work, and as luck would have it, a fourth King of Iron Fist Tournament was later announced.

She entered immediately.

And was reunited with him.

If she thought he had changed in personality from when they were children to the third tournament, nothing could have prepared her for how he was now – it was almost like he was a completely different person, his eyes burning with rage and vengeance.

He wouldn't talk to her or anyone else, keeping his distance, his face covered by his hood – her heart ached for him, recognising that he was in pain and wanting to help him, but held herself back lest she made things worse. His fighting style was different, signalling his new persona, and he easily tore his way through the early rounds.

They met each other in the fourth round.

The anger in his face lessened as soon as he saw her – she immediately tried to get through to him, to ask what happened to him – he stated that he had business he needed to finish and that he couldn't let anyone, not even her, stand in his way.

She saw no other choice but to fight him.

She lost the fight, and looking back, she realised that he held back against her. The fury with which he had demolished his previous opponents was absent in their fight, and she didn't know if she should be annoyed or thankful he didn't go all out against her.

He apologised to her after the match for his actions and requested that she meet him privately. Curious, she did as he asked and learnt his reasons for entering the tournament – he wanted payback against his grandfather for a terrible betrayal at the conclusion of the third tournament, while having to contend with the thought of his resurrected dark father, a man responsible for much evil in the second tournament. She listened intently as he spoke of his cursed bloodline – again, she reminded him of their previous conversation to not lose himself to the dark path of vengeance, but he seemed so determined that she made a joke of her own problems, how she was after her carefully cultivated research, and that losing didn't seem so bad compared to his family issues.

She even made a comment about finally concluding their childhood sparring match.

He snapped out of his stupor, even if it was only to tell her how to gain access to her work within the bowels of the Zaibatsu, how to get past all the security, and any potential passwords that she might need.

She was so overwhelmed with gratitude that, without thinking, she kissed him on the cheek and almost immediately set off to reclaim what was rightfully hers. If she had stopped for a moment, she would've seen the blush she'd left on his face. It was only after the tournament and during her return home that she processed what she'd done, and she desperately hoped her silly action didn't ruin anything between them.

Unfortunately, she was unable to obtain her data, interrupted by one of the head scientists, who revealed that he intended to use her research for his own into the Devil Gene. Forced with no other option, in order to prevent such evil work from ever reaching fruition, she nuked her data and jettisoned any chance she had at saving her homeland, barely escaping with her life. Despondent, she went home with the demoralising focus of starting all over again.

A fifth tournament was swiftly announced, and she saw another chance to salvage whatever was left of her data…and see him again. Once again, he'd gone radio dark, and not for the first time she worried about his well-being. She learnt that his grandfather had been killed in an explosion at the end of the previous tournament, which made her wonder who'd organised this new tournament: his father, perhaps?

Nonetheless, she entered, and once again, they crossed paths, only this time, he did his absolute best to keep his distance, not just from her, but from everyone else.

What had gone wrong?

Unable to approach him, she had no choice but to sit back and watch as he blasted his way through his opponents until he came face-to-face with his long-time rival…and lost the match – and lost control.

She witnessed the Devil Gene in action for the first time and it was horrifying. Black-feathered wings sprouted from his back, devilish horns burst forth from his skull, and demonic tattoos marked his forehead and torso, his eyes glowing with evil glee as he brutalised his rival. He was a force of nature, a goddamn fucking hurricane; she raced into the arena to stop him, and with a sinister smile that promised torturous pain, he flew off. She tended to her friend, made sure he received immediate medical attention, and then she pursued the beast.

She caught up with him – the monster he'd become taunted her, promising agony and death, mocked her on her failures – she weathered the storm in combat, her will to save him overwhelming the evil desires of the beast, who soon retreated and left him a crumbling heap in her arms. Tears streamed down his face as he apologised profusely for his actions, his cold, hard exterior cracked by his guilt. She held him close and tight, promising to help him overcome his inner turmoil, if he let her. She kissed his cheek to soothe him, and he stared intently into her eyes, his own filled with unknown emotions that were a puzzle to her.

His lips crashed against her, unleashing a tsunami of emotions, kissing her like his life depended on it, a sailor seeking salvation in the storm. There were a myriad of questions pounding through her mind when they broke apart – what now, what does this mean, and why? He whispered an apology and moved away from her, as if ashamed of himself for crossing a line, stating she deserved better, but she held him fast and kissed him with reassurance, telling him that she'd be here for him and that she wasn't going anywhere – they'd overcome this together; she was willing to fight for him…would he do the same for her?

He kissed her agreement.

They returned to the tournament – he was allowed through to the next round due to his rival being unable to compete, while she had missed her match, and therefore, was eliminated by default. She didn't care – saving his soul from damnation was far more important than her research.

He defeated his resurrected and demonically possessed great-grandfather in the final round, without the use of the Devil Gene, and took control of the company as a result. One of the first things he did was salvage her data and give it to her; she thanked him with a kiss, wished him well and promised to return for him, then headed home to reunite with her mother and spend some time with her.

She enjoyed spending time on her mother's property, without a care in the world to worry about. She thought about him constantly, their kisses on repeat in her mind, and she contemplated what it could mean for them and how would they progress to the next stop, if there was one to be had. It was something they needed to sit down and discuss. She had feelings for him, now that she could properly define them, and she cared deeply for him – whether it was love or not was something she didn't want to consider just yet. There was no need to rush headlong into that avenue of thought for now.

Three weeks later, she was prepared to fly back to Japan, when an old spirit woman stopped by the ranch and delivered to her a dire, prophetic warning: if the father and son of Devil blood were to clash, they would awaken an ancient evil that would threaten to consume the world in fire and destruction.

She boarded that plane as quick as possible.

She hoped he'd be able to resist the terrible influence of the Devil Gene while in the clutches of his family's company, but tensions arose against G Corporation, now run by his father, not long after his takeover, and sure enough, they reached a crescendo – she was halfway across the planet when news broke that the Zaibatsu had declared war on G Corporation with a missile strike against the latter's properties.

She could not let the prophecy of Azazel come true, as she blazed her way through the Zaibatsu, refusing to let anyone stop her, not even that blonde Irish assassin he'd hired as his personal bodyguard. She demanded to see him at once, and as pleased as she was to see him again, she pushed all feelings aside to demand from him what the hell was he thinking? Did he have any idea what would happen if he fought his father?

She told him the prophecy to give him an idea of the immense threat to the world.

He told her that his father, along with the corruption in the world, must be destroyed at all costs to safeguard a better future for everyone else. He ordered the start of the sixth King of Iron Fist Tournament and told her that if she wished to change the world, she must defeat him in the final round, and had her escorted out like she was a common nuisance and not someone important to him.

The nerve of that bastard!

Enraged, she entered the tournament, determined to beat his ass and make him see reason. For the most part, she did well, easily breezing through the early rounds, her mind consumed with him and wishing to make things right in order to prevent the prophecy from coming true – until she met his adopted uncle. She got convinced to return to work at G Corporation and spy on the company, feeding the information to his uncle – all in the effort to stop the war and hopefully save him.

She did quite well for herself in her new role, despite the threat of his father, her boss, hanging over her head. She hardly saw that man, which she figured made her job as a spy much easier – less scrutiny on her, less chance of her getting discovered.

Somehow, it all went wrong.

Someone discovered her secret and reported her – next thing she knew, she was confronted by his father, who revealed that he knew she was a spy, and had her imprisoned to later torture for information – he failed to realise she managed to send a message for help before her capture and now all she had to do was wait.

She had no idea how long she languished in the lower levels of G Corporation, afraid of the impending interrogation – if the elder Devil learnt of her connection with the younger Devil, she feared what he would do with that information. No doubt he would use her as bait or ransom, but not before he put her through extreme hell first.

Would her friend even care, given his callous personality? Would he mount a rescue for her if he knew her dire predicament, or would he simply leave her for the wolves?

Sirens wailed in the bowels of the Millennium Tower, giving her an indirect answer. Anguish and hope filled her, keen to know the circumstances – the tower shook at one point, as if rocked by a tremendous force. Salvation came in the form of her friends, breaking free from her prison, and they filled her in on the details – he had caught her distress call and arranged a rescue operation; right now, he was clashing with his father on the helipad of the grand building, hence all the obliterated windows.

The prophecy had come true, and it was all because of her.

Damn it.

They escaped from the Tower; she went straight to the Zaibatsu, immensely concerned on the outcome of the hate-driven battle. She didn't have to wait for long, as he soon made his presence known, immediately demanding to speak with her in private, his face a mask of ice-cold ruthless detachment that brook no argument.

She stood with him in his private quarters, her anger slowly growing as he furiously berated her, calling her foolish for getting involved with G Corporation, for getting involved in the war, for catching his father's attention, for forcing him to save her – she snapped, she had enough of his shit, and she retaliated with the force of Mother Nature unleashing her wrath on the world.

She had warned him about Azazel, had warned him not to cross paths with his father, but he'd ignored her out of the typical arrogance that ran in his blood, told him that they could have found an alternative if he'd let her, and now they must deal with the repercussions of their actions – Toshin felt like the tooth fairy in comparison to Azazel. She berated him in turn for starting the damn war, for costing lives all because of some foolish family blood feud. She spoke her mind and he stood there, receiving it all.

Her heart pounded in her chest once she finished, since she'd never lost her temper like that before, but this man, oh damn this man, he brought it out of her because she cared so damn much about him – his demeanour changed, and he spoke softly of how he knew about Azazel before she told him, how that evil had spoke to him and demanded a war in order to corporealize and walk the earth once more. He spoke of how only those with the Devil blood could stop Azazel for good and how he was the only one who was willing to do it at any cost, even if it means his life. He told her that he pushed her away because he cared too much about her to let her get hurt, especially by him, and since he would most likely die, he didn't want her to mourn him. He spoke of his fear when he'd learnt of her capture by his father and immediately mounted a rescue, taking on the G Corporation forces on his own, desperate to save her.

He had been scared to lose her, the one good thing left in his life, and he kissed her, conveying how much she meant to him. She had no desire to let him die, refusing to let him throw his life away, refusing to let him paint himself as a monster to justify the goal, refused to let him go. There had to be another way, there had to be – she couldn't lose him just because he felt he had no reason to live, tainted by the foul blood of his family – she would show him how to find meaning and joy in life.

Unfortunately, they were interrupted by his bodyguard, informing him of an immense energy signature in the Middle East – it could only mean one thing: Azazel was awake. He ordered the deployment of troops to seize the area, knowing that G Corporation had detected the energy and would be on the move as well.

Everything was happening too soon for her liking, and she realised that her life would change in only a matter of a few hours. Time was ticking down until his fateful confrontation, fear compounding in her veins. She didn't want to lose him, couldn't bear the thought of his death, couldn't stand the thought of what that meant to her –

He took her hand apologetically and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead, promising to make everything right. He apologised for everything, and that all he'd done was to ensure a safer world for everyone, especially for her, free from the evil of his family. He was prepared to die, he was ready – damn it, he was still young, she thought, still had his entire life in front of him. She didn't want him to go, yet she knew there was no other choice – his father would only use Azazel's power for his own gain, and she trembled at the thought of that possible scenario.

Is this love, she questioned, her heart awakening with a foreign feeling. Did she love him? She could say she felt so deeply about him that it probably could be called love, and if that was indeed the case, then yes, she loved him.

There were a few hours left until departure, and he'd delegated the organisation to his bodyguard, before retiring to his private quarters, no doubt to reflect on his (highly possible) last day on Earth. She joined him, begged him again not to toss his life away, that she couldn't bear the thought of losing him, but he stated that he had no other choice and in order to balance out his wrongdoings, he would gladly accept death – he even had a will prepared, believing he had no right or reason to survive the upcoming battle.

She would give him a reason to live, she said as she kissed him. He returned the kiss just as feverishly, but he pushed her away – as much as he cared about her, the one light left in his life, he wanted better for her, refusing to drag her down into the darkness with him – she had a whole life to live, a greater purpose to serve…she deserved someone who could make her happy, not bring misery and despair to her. Plus, in case he lost himself to the monster within, someone would need to take him out, lest the evil in his veins infect the world with damnation.

She chose him, darkness and all.

In that moment, their lives changed as they gave in to each other, consummating their relationship. They savoured every minute they had as they explored each other with tenderness salted with desire. He was her first and she gave everything to him, and he drank her in like a death row criminal cherishing his last meal. In that moment, they were just two young adults seeking shelter in each other from the hurricane of the outside world – his hands were gentle against her heated skin as he studied her curves, searching her sweet spots, guided only by instinct. She drowned herself in him, memorising every tiny detail about him, taking her time even though they were out of time, and if she kissed him a little too hard like she was trying to imprint the feel of his lips onto hers forever, then spirits be damned, she did just that.

He held her in the afterglow of their passion; she wished she could stay in his arms forever, feeling safe and loved, but zero hour was upon them. With great reluctance, they drew apart and redressed, stealing kisses in between as if it could be their last.

One last kiss that spoke volumes of their feelings for each other that'd been left unspoken and then they were boarding the helicopter, flying towards destiny.

G Corporation had beat them to the location and a battle quickly erupted – she went with him around the war zone and into the ruins, noting the similarity to Ogre's temple, a connection she did not enjoy discovering.

The Rectifier awaited them in his chamber, and the breath was stolen from her lungs at the sight of the beast, immense dark power oozing from its very being in an overwhelming, choking miasma. She couldn't remember much after that, only that she woke up in the safety of a medic tent with him standing over her in deep concern. She'd fainted, he told her, and Azazel had been defeated, and with G Corporation pulling out, they would be leaving soon. Relief swam through her at the news – it meant he'd survived, and they could go back to their lives –

The sand dunes erupted like an exploding volcano, the Rectifier rose in its terrifying physical form, promising to purge the world and that it couldn't be defeated. She knew, as soon as she saw the look on his face, she knew this was it – this was his final moment. There was no coming back after this. She couldn't let him go, but she couldn't stop him in her condition, as much as she wanted to surge off the bed and physically hold him back. He looked at her one last time, a mixture of sorrow and finality in his features, and then he charged at Azazel. Devil beams scorched the sand, he leapt and delivered a blow to the Rectifier's chest, and they disappeared beneath the sand in a firework of Devil beams, followed by an eruption of energy that signalled the end.

She stood there in shock, unable to take notice of anything around her as she waited for him to climb out of the pit, to show her that he'd survived, but nothing happened. She faintly heard that the energy signature of the Rectifier was non-existent, but she only wanted confirmation on his fate. Nothing changed – it was like he'd obliterated himself to destroy the beast. They were pulling out now the battle was over – she screamed at the troops, at the Irish, to find him, refusing to abandon him – the assassin coolly told her there was nothing they could do, that there was no trace of him left, and he'd done what he had to do, knowing full well that he wouldn't survive.

The ruins began to collapse around them, swallowing the area in a sea of sand, and she had no choice but to leave on the helicopter. A tear trailed down her cheek when there was no last second appearance of him, and she had to accept that he was truly gone. She zoned out during the flight, reliving their tender moments together, wishing there was another way, wishing they had more time, but it was too late for regrets.

She was going through the motions as she took the necessary flights to return home to her mother, the shock of his loss gripping her with its paralysing hold – she continued to hold out hope that he survived, that he could be found, but as the days passed with no news, her hope dimmed. Life without him felt empty as she continued through life without fanfare, mourning him and cursing his bloodline for forcing him into that position to throw his life away. She barely took notice of the world events, apart from a public declaration of his death that was soon followed by a takeover by his grandfather, because she didn't really care anymore.

And then, one morning a few months later, she woke up sick and quickly vomited.

A terrifying thought dawned on her as she recovered, and when the test returned two lines, she was faced with her new reality that left her stricken with fear and worry.

She sat on the bathroom floor, crying until she could cry no more, conflicted over what to do: she now had a small piece of him, but he would never get to see their child grow up – she realised then the similarity between herself and his mother, both left pregnant by a man of dark blood and fated to raise the child alone. She decided that she would keep the child and raise it away from the turmoil of the world, in solitude where his or her bloodline could never know about them. She would honour his mother in ensuring her child would walk the path of light and never succumb to their dark heritage.

Spirits, what if they did inherit the cursed blood?

It didn't matter, she concluded, she would love this child no matter what, and if or when that time came, she'd make sure her child understood and control that power.

She told the news to her mother, who was both ecstatic and disappointed, the latter mainly due to the child's father due to her own grandfather's fate at the hands of his grandfather, but her mother promised to support her no matter what.

At the first ultrasound she had, she wept when she saw her child on the screen, wishing he was here to witness this with her; once again, she wondered what his reaction would be to this development – would he be thrilled at having a child or would he be distant? Regardless, he wasn't here now, and she couldn't dwell on it forever, not when she had so much planning to do in anticipation of her child's arrival.

The day her daughter entered the world also saw the conclusion to the seventh King of Iron Fist Tournament, during which his father and grandfather finally ended their feud with an epic battle in the middle of a volcano, the latter perishing at long last. As she held her daughter close, promising to love and protect with her life, his father reclaimed the throne, promising to expand the war to the rest of the world now there was no obstacles in the way of domination.

The world was filled with trepidation and chaos at the declaration, but as she returned home with her daughter in her arms, she knew she had something certain to stabilise her in the world's upheaval – if left with no other choice, she possibly had the key to saving the world from turmoil, knowing that she would be feeding the cycle of blood betrayal and fighting, a terrible fate weighing on her new-born daughter's shoulders.

She could only hope that it would never come to that, wanting nothing more than to give her daughter a good life away from the curse of the bloodline, and once again, she wished that he was here – unfortunately, it was not meant to be, and so, hope was all she could have.

Hope was all she could give her daughter in a world of madness.

History repeats itself.

And a storm is approaching…