Disclaimer: Don't own Tekken.
Author's Note: Something I really needed to get off my chest. I've tried incorporating as much Tekken into this as I can so it can seem more… Tekken-y. But really? It's just me venting and being worried about what could happen in the future in regards to the issue at hand (which is kinda disguised, I hope XD)... So hence the probable OOC-ness of the characters involved. Read if you like, and if you do, I hope you enjoy it.
I won't conform. So stop that, dammit. And don't fucking blackmail me.
You always used to talk about how one day, I'd take your most prized possession from your hands, and take care of it properly, look after it as though it were a child of my own. It would bloom, it would absolutely flourish, under a new, younger owner. Everyone would want to work for the Company, would want to aid the Company, would want to be a business partner of the Company… Anything to get a slice of the cake.
You keep putting pressure on me, forcefully nudging me towards what you want. Not what I want. You know something? I don't think you'd care if you knew what I'd want. If you actually listened to me. You'd be trying to do the 'best' for me that you can, saying it was for my own good. You'd keep saying that it'd be good to have the Zaibatsu, because I'd learn new skills and would be able to use them in later life. Am I not allowed to live out and acquire these 'skills' my own way?
I'd mumble what I want. Something along the lines of 'I want to live as my own person'.
You'd just laugh, shrug it off, and leave.
Other times, I'd shout it at you, something like 'I don't want to live in your shadow'.
Again, you'd just laugh, that stupid, loud, booming laugh; shrug it off, and leave.
God, there are times I just want to grab you by your shoulders, shake you, and fucking scream in your face. I'm not like you. I never want to be like you. I want to be my own person. I want to live as my own person, experience life through the eyes of me, and not you. I don't want to be your clone, walking around, taking care of your business while you're sitting in a fucking nursing home… I don't want to live in, or be, your shadow.
I wish you'd understand… I wish you'd listen to me, dammit.
A few screws eventually became loose in your old head, I believe. Why in your right mind did you decide that I needed to be 'worthy' of the Zaibatsu, before I could inherit it? I keep telling you, Dad, that I don't want the Zaibatsu. So, why are you bothering to 'test' me now? Why are you bothering to find whether or not I am 'worthy' of inheritance? I don't even care about the damn thing.
Don't look at me like that. I won't conform. I won't give in. The last thing I want is to be a drone like you. The last thing I want are three ridiculous, insignificant and annoying words continuously swimming around in my head. They move around in your head, don't they? One after another, following around each other like goldfish in a tiny bowl, going around in circles.
Work. Consume. Obey.
Don't attach your shackles to me. I don't want to be dragged down to your pathetic level. I don't want you to live your dream through me. I don't want you to extend your life, once you're dead and gone, through me. I'm not a fucking portal. Go find someone else to be the inheritor of the Zaibatsu, and for fuck's sake, leave me alone.
I guess then, at least you somewhat listened to me. But you're still trying to forge me into you.
It's bad enough that you've got that stupid Chaolan kid running around. He's going to be the end of you, Dad, once he takes over the damn business. At least he's willing. To be honest, I can't wait until he makes the Company crash and burn. I'll laugh and laugh for days – that stupid, loud, booming laugh you always throw at me.
But why are you pitting me against him? Stupid.
You scream at me, maybe throw in a bit of violence for good measure, trying to throw me into action… but it does nothing, and you wonder why. Perhaps because I don't care. Maybe because I don't want to follow in your bloodstained footsteps. That pathway… I don't want to go anywhere near it.
It's a dangerous place to play. Lee likes it there.
But why does it still feel like the forces of the universe are going to drag me that way when I have no place to go…?
Don't fucking blackmail me. I know you're thinking about it, so fucking stop right there.
Do you think that by getting someone else into this, someone I care about, that I'll mindlessly go 'yes, let's do it!' and throw myself head first into becoming a fit enough inheritor of the Zaibatsu? Do you think that by getting someone I care about into this, that I'll start shaping up and being competitive against Chaolan? That I'll care?
Grandpa knows I don't want to do this, Dad. Maybe you should listen to him, because you don't listen to me.
I can hear you telling Grandpa of the situation, of how I refuse to conform. You think that maybe if he talks to me, I'll do as he says. I love Grandpa, and I'm not going to lie to him just to keep him happy. He wouldn't want that for me any how. He would want me to be honest, and if he does take me aside, that's what I'll be. He'll know and understand everything. Hell, he already knows.
What. The. Hell.
Check out that charade. He's actually trying to look sad. He's frowning, looking back at me. What, you think that if you put that face on, I'll feel sorry for you and actually do what you want? Tough luck, Dad, but its not going to happen that way. I'd rather be in hell than sit on the Mishima Zaibatsu Throne.
Yes, I'm well aware of my situation. Don't bother pointing Devil out to me.
Oh, this is amusing. If you could actually hear what he's saying now, pretending to look worried, pretending to care about me. But it's never me. It never was me. It was always Chaolan. And really, I couldn't be bothered caring anymore, not since you decided to 'test' me. I fucking hate you for that, you know. I've always considered telling you, but then again, you never listen to me now, so why bother? It's not like you'd care. It wouldn't affect you at all.
I'm just the unacceptable one, the trouble maker, the no good rotten kid, the brat.
"I'm worried about his future."
"It'll be good for him."
Think what you want.
"If Kazuya doesn't take the Mishima Zaibatsu, then I may have to quit now. I'm getting too old."
You have your 'better' son, the one who wants it.
Grandpa looked back at me worriedly, and watched as I fiddled with my red gloves at the other end of the room, sitting in the nice leather chair. He could see the smirk on my face and wondered why its there. Maybe he too could see through the lies that Dad's just put forth. Maybe he could see that this is all an act to make me feel sorry for him, and that maybe if the situation is explained gently to me, I'll jump off my chair and straight into the Throne.
"Perhaps you can talk some sense into him. I can't."
"How can you talk some sense into Kazuya, if you do not listen to him and hear what he wants?"
I smiled wryly. Thanks for trying, Grandpa. Honestly.
Dad's silent. Grandpa crossed his arms, "Heihachi… talk to your son. Your biological son. Learn about him."
I was suddenly filled with anger and stood abruptly, my hands clenched into impossibly tight fists. I didn't understand why. Perhaps it was the tone in which Dad thereafter snorted in dismissal. It just made my blood boil and my soul flare with anger. I could feel Devil pushing it on, and I let him keep pushing it on. I beckoned him to keep pushing it on, to make my anger as large and explosive as it could be. I remember directly saying to him 'make it grow'.
"You had the chance to learn about me, Dad. But you never listened to me. You never listened to my hopes, my dreams, what I wanted to be. No! You always listened to yourself, you always, and still do, try to mould me into the image of you! I don't want to be your shadow! I don't want you to live through me! I want to live my own life, and do what I want to do, not what you fucking dictate!"
Grandpa had looked back to Dad and nodded slightly. He understood what I had said, what I wanted… my point. Out of everyone in this fucked up family, he understood me the best, and damn, I loved him for it. He knew I didn't want the Zaibatsu, and he said it was fine. I told him. He listened. He patted my back with a warm smile, and told me to go after my dreams.
But what did Dad do? Laugh. Ha! Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha ha ha. Hahaha.
He fucking laughed at me. AGAIN.
"Stupid boy," He managed to say sternly and darkly, once the laughs slowly dissipated.
"You still don't fucking listen!"
I had stormed out and went straight to my room, past Chaolan, whose face would've made a nice picture to slap on the school billboards. Don't you just love the whole 'deer-caught-in-the-headlights' look? Especially when the retard's picking his nose. And he's going to be the next inheritor of the Mishima Zaibatsu? Pfft.
Sadly, that was ten years ago. I was sixteen then. I'm twenty-six now.
I'm standing in a ring, looking around. My arms are folded across my scarred stomach. I'm moving my fingers, which are clad in my trusty red gloves, trying to loosen them up and relax them. The wind feels cold against my body, and it moves the bottom of my torn, white gi pants. As my eyes travel around the arena, I can still hear Dad laughing at me, in my head. I'm still reflecting on the whole incident.
That last guffaw becomes real. I smirk and look up from the ground, to my left, where Father dear is standing in a similar manner to me.
He thought it'd be a good idea to hold a fighting tournament, named King Of Iron Fist. He's fifty-two now, and still running his precious Mishima Zaibatsu. He thought that by holding this tournament, he could find a suitable heir. I'm kinda disappointed that he woke up to himself and found out that Chaolan wouldn't be right for the Zaibatsu. I'm further disappointed, in a non-caring manner, that Chaolan didn't get through the first round.
Then again, Dad made this stupid thing to test me.
He walks over to me and slips into stance, "So it has come down to this, Kazuya. The last match of the first tournament."
My smirk sets deeper in my face as I crack my fingers.
I'll make you listen.
It's only once I've thrown him down the cliff after the battle that I realized what's happened. Its only after I walk away, satisfied, somewhat at peace inside, that I realized what I have become… willingly, voluntarily. And it makes me sick in my stomach.
I'm in a dangerous place to play.
So long I spent trying to make you listen that I didn't listen to myself and be aware of what's around me. I didn't even realize I was playing into your hands. You knew Lee wouldn't get to the last stage of the tournament, nor Paul Phoenix or Nina Williams or anyone else in the tournament, for that matter. You knew it would've been me, all along.
I'm in your bloodstained footsteps.
So long I kept saying to myself 'there's no way I'm becoming you', that 'he'll never listen to me'. But he did listen, but being the manipulative bastard he is… he weaved a web around me, trapping me, forcing me to get to this very stage in time. You kept pushing me down a path I didn't want to go, and when you realized I wouldn't budge, you grabbed something you know I'd run for. You grabbed my favourite treat, my favourite thing, and like a little kid, I came running.
I'm sitting on the Zaibatsu Throne.
So long I kept turning away from it. So long I kept trying to find my own path, my own way, wanting to do what I wanted to do, not what you wanted me to do, or what you believed was best. I suppose this is what my earlier thoughts meant, and why I had that memory come to me for no apparent reason before the battle. I should've listened to it and walked away. When I was young, it always felt like the forces of the universe were going to drag me down your pathway. And look at me now…
You're a fool, Kazuya, Devil growls, laughing at me in the exact same way as Dad did.
I've become you.