Author's Notes: Long time no update. That’s because I recently attended a Design conference in Melbourne, Australia – the AGIdeas conference – and had no access to the Internet or any of my files. At any rate, here’s the first update since two weeks ago – more on other stories to come soon too.
DISCLAIMER: I dun own Tekken.
Crimson
Chapter 2 - Intervention
It had come to the point that Kazuya had to literally drag his son through the pouring rain outside, navigating the pitch-black streets with supernatural ability, as if he’d had them memorised, or he could actually see in the lightless world. And Jin wasn’t easy baggage to drag at all; though both men were five foot eleven, Jin was almost twice his size in width – while Kazuya was tall and slender, with only lean muscle to contain his formidable power, Jin had trained in a different style, most definitely had a much better diet as a youngster, and thus was heavily muscular.
Which, at times like this, made dragging him in the wet a nuisance.
“Jin, for Hell’s sake, snap out of it and run! You’re twisting my arm out of its socket…”
Jin, at the sound of his name, shook his head about and took his own weight back onto his legs. Once standing, he realised just how dark it was when he tried to follow the sound of his father’s voice…only to find himself connecting with a nearby concrete wall.
“Itai! Shit, how’m I supposed to see where I’m going?”
In the darkness, Kazuya yet again rolled his eyes, and sighed softly over the pitter-patter of rain falling on the iron roofs above them.
“I don’t know, but I know my way around here,” he retorted, grabbing Jin’s hand in his own, “Just follow me and try not to walk into any more walls.”
Jin frowned, and wiped the warm dampness from his eyes and cheeks with his free hand, and slicked his hair back out of his face. Kazuya’s hand was strangely smooth and soft for that of a fighter, stranded out in the rain, and definitely not a spring chicken any longer. Though, at best, he could only guess the older male to be at most in his late twenties, physically. It was uncanny; he might as well have been his older brother. Before he could think about it any longer, he found himself being wrenched onward with surprising force from someone so tiny, being led blindly through dark alleyways he had absolutely no idea as to where they might be.
It was a hair-raising race to wherever the older man was leading the both of them; ducking around corners, sliding over slippery ground, even up and down stairs. Though finally, to Jin’s relief, there was an area of light from around a corner in the near distance, bathing the saturated concrete path before them in a golden, unnatural glow. Kazuya headed around the corner, only to find a tall, old wooden door with a spider web-strewn light bulb above it. After retrieving a set of keys from the pocket of his dark, drenched slacks, he jammed it in the door, turned it, and pushed the wooden object back with a rusty creak.
Within the old building there was worn down carpet, well-loved wooden banisters on the stairs to the right, and the distinct stench of aging materials – this place was in ‘original condition’; left to rot.
A middle-aged woman stepped out from the door opposite the stairwell. She’d obviously been woken up by something recently, and not something to be taken lightly. In fact, she still had her dressing gown and curlers on, and there was a clear look of fear on her aging face, along with surprise in her old black eyes.
“Kazuya, you shouldn’t have come back here!”
The youthful warrior turned his attention to the woman, raising a dark brow. “Nani?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Those mangy Tekkenshu…they tracked down your apartment and ransacked it, hoping to find you there. There’s very little left upstairs that they didn’t take as clues. I told them you hadn’t lived there for a week or so, but I don’t think they believed me…”
Jin, at this point completely disoriented, tired, hungry, and a little confused to say the least, just gave his father a look of surrender and leaned against the door, which had swung shut a little earlier.
Kazuya, on the other hand, didn’t look surprised at all. “I’d expected it, Mrs Hayato. Thank you for informing me. We’d better make tracks; if the Tekkenshu know I was here, then it’d be stupidity to stay here.”
For a moment she looked concerned, as she noticed the younger male standing away from the conversation. “You’re both alright, aren’t you?”
Kazuya nodded. “Yes, but we won’t be if we stay for much longer.” He wasn’t fond of this particular residence anyway. The other residents tended to be old drunks or smelly students; he only stayed here because he had thought that Heihachi would figure that something like this would be the last place he would stay. Seems not, however.
After handing his key to Hayato, he turned to leave again. “Thanks for your help.” With not another word, he motioned for Jin to follow him, and the two headed back out into the rain.
“So…why here?”
Jin’s soft, deep voice echoed noisily about the bright marble floors and golden furnishings of one of the most well-known five-star hotels in Tokyo.
“It’s a long way from that old apartment we went to a few hours ago – that, and it’s the complete opposite. Besides, you should get a comfortable sleep, you’re going to need it.”
He grumbled, and glared at his dripping wet black and white gi pants. “We could have gone back to my apartment…”
Kazuya shot him a look. “Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten that the old dirtbag has that information already…”
A slight blush fell across Jin’s cheeks. “Oh yeah…” How’d he forget that? He’s never done anything as air-headed as that.
The receptionist handed them both keycards, and the two headed for the lifts to the 14th floor. “I thought you needed rest…now I know you need rest.” Jin couldn’t help but glare sleepily at his father for that comment, but didn’t pursue it further. He’d always prided himself with having boundless energy and the ability to keep going through the early hours of the morning, so nearly falling asleep isn’t exactly what he’d wanted to be seen doing.
Once inside, they found to their dismay that it was a studio overnight room with one bed, a chair, a lamp, and a tiny bathroom attached. Jin didn’t even have to ask, he knew that he’d be on the bed. After all, Kazuya didn’t look tired at all, and it was two in the morning. Little time was left for sleeping.
After a quick rummage through the wardrobe Jin found a towel robe, which he put on over his still damp underwear – he’d taken his sopping wet pants off in the process and had tossed them next to the bed. He pulled back the covers and slid into the luxurious single bed, and glanced quickly over at his father – who’d taken up residence on the chair, with one elbow on the table in front of it – before finally succumbing to rest.