Author's Notes: Now that the information about Tekken 5 is out, this fiction is a little more inacurate then I had originally planned, but that's life! Um... I should probably warn you that this fic gets a little disturbing in future chapters... Not yet though... I think maybe I may need to write those disturbing parts out, but maybe I won't...

**Disclaimer**: Tekken is owned by Namco and not me. I just manipulate the characters for entertainment purposes.


Chapter 11 - Immortal

By Chlover

It was like gazing at a statue. Was it real? Who was it? A scarred canvas of flesh, covered with a fresh shine, having just got out of the shower. The red eyes weren't there, but it couldn't be Kazuya. It seemed too far above everything that it means to be human. That creature was a god. How could anyone say any different when faced with the amazing being?

In the next room, the product of the godly demon slept. The young Kazama had yet to wake and answer the Korean's questions, but with such a sight before him, Hwoarang was in no hurry. Instead, he leaned back on the hotel couch, trying his luck at telekinesis, willing that towel to fall and reveal the rest of that all-powerful being.

"Come here," Hwoarang ordered in a whisper.

Kazuya paused, considering the younger man. "I would rather not get the couch wet. Whatever it is you want, it can wait until I'm dressed."

"That's not a very reasonable request considering the reason I want you to come here is because you aren't dressed." Hwoarang grinned, and stood up. "I could stare at you for eternity, but I'd much rather have you right now. Your son shouldn't be waking up for a few hours now. If we're going to have some idle time, let's make it count."

"You're starting to sound like Zekkai. You spend too much time with it."

Hwoarang shrugged, "Alright, I'm sorry." He pointed to the couch, "I don't care how wet you think you are. I suggest you bend over and take what's coming to you like the bitch you are. That better?"

In answering the question, Kazuya smiled and pulled Hwoarang against him. The older man's mixed emotions were easy to conquer, despite the intensity of his jealousy. All he had to do was listen to that obscene humour that would have normally irritated him. Why did a devil have to steal the Korean's interest before Kazuya realized how significant the fiery young man was to him? It was sad, but he was glad he knew. In ways, he was thankful for his other half.

/How touching, my pet. I love you too./

Always there. That thing was always there watching over his shoulder. It would be so nice just to get away from it for awhile. At least he didn't have to look at it. Looking at it was always a cruel reminder of what he had become, and he didn't want to know. Though he loved the power the demon gave him, it was painful knowing what it had made him. It was painful seeing a hideous creature every time he looked in a mirror. Such was the price for his immortality.

/You don't know what to do with him. Morons shouldn't play with matches, so let someone who knows what they're doing have at him. You can… take notes./

The older man mentally cursed his inner demon, his thoughts beginning to rage, until something broke through the angry emotions. A pair of warm lips found his, and soon his towel was hitting the floor. Kazuya surrendered to his young counterpart, giving up the power for the first time, without hesitation.

Kazuya grudgingly released his grip, when Hwoarang pulled back a little.


When Kazuya gazed into the Korean's eyes, he saw it. The reflection of that creature, and it was watching him with a twisted grin, greatly amused by how much the sight of it troubled its host. The anger returned, accompanied by frustration and defeat.

"Mishima-sama." Hwoarang's gaze turned to a look of concern, "What's wrong?"

"I… I can't get away from it."

"From what?"

Kazuya paused, trying to look into his lover's eyes without seeing Zekkai. "From me."

"Sleep well?"

Jin Kazama sat up in the strange hotel room, rubbing his eyes. The voice belonged to his father, but since no attack had been made, perhaps he was safe for the time being. But listening carefully, he was able to determine that he was alone in the room with that demonic man. A frightening fact. Where was Hwoarang?

Kazuya got up and opened the curtains, gazing out, as if in a pleasant trance. He almost smiled. It was obvious what was on his mind. That redhead must have been important to him if their relationship would be enough to slow the progress of attaining the monster in Jin. Did there really exist a remaining shred of Kazuya's soul? Was it really him? The man inside the demon was cruel and cold-blooded as it was, but there must have been a time when he was happy, before Heihachi slaughtered his tortured soul. Was it possible that Hwoarang was able to dig through the ruins, and find that long lost tranquility?

"Where is he?"

Without looking away from the beautiful view of the smog covered city, Kazuya responded, "Somewhere out there, I presume. I imagine he's found himself a new little hidden corner, and is sharpening his skills at self-mutilation." Kazuya seemed to resent his guess as a look of guilt came over him. "I lead him down that path when he was merely a toy of mine, but now… I'm afraid it may go too far."

Jin studied the pain shown by the way his father was standing. "You really like him, don't you?"

The smile returned, only it was different. It reflected the man the world turned Kazuya into. The smile was bordering on a sneer. Kazuya glanced back at his son. "You should hope so, because if not, it's plausible that I would take what's mine from you this second, or any second after. But even if you are safe for now, I only said I'd leave you alone until you were recovered, so don't get too comfortable."

"Does it bother you that he's with all these other people, and… things?"

Kazuya glanced at the shattered mirror hanging on the wall. "There are only two other people, and I intend to eliminate one, and Devil the other… Once I unify myself with the demon, there will be no other competition."

"So there's been two reasons why you're trying to kill me," Jin reasoned, "I was just a challenge that Hwoarang gave to himself to conquer, and still you're jealous. Amazing."

/I think you'd better shut him up./

In a thoughtless act of obedience, Kazuya lunged at his son, wrapping his scarred fingers around the boy's neck, and tightening his grip by the second. "It was my idea to get you involved in the first place, but he took it too far with you. If I finished you off right now, I'd be doing him a favour. I should have left you there in that stuffy apartment with the Chang girl. That conservative, deluded bitch is precisely your type."

The door swung open and Lee stepped in, lighting a cigarette. "Am I interrupting this touching display of father-son bonding?"

"Yes," Kazuya growled. "Get out."

Before Lee could make some less witty response, Jin's knee shot up, nailing Kazuya in the stomach. The young Japanese broke free. Once Kazuya was back to his feet, electrified fists came at him, landing three powerful blows to his chest, and sending him flying backwards into Lee. The marks appeared on Jin's forehead, chest, and arms as he ran at his father with a spin kick, knocking both Kazuya and Lee to the floor where he pounced on them, his fist out, getting Kazuya in the upper abdomen. Instead of striking again, the transformed Jin's wings slid out of his back with a sickening loud noise, and he crashed through the window, wings beating the air and taking him higher.

Lee helped Kazuya up, confused, and shocked, and slightly aggravated that there was a tear in his new shirt. The things he went through for the Mishima. He shook his head and picked up the lit cigarette from the floor, not wanting to be wasteful.

Kazuya dusted himself off, glaring at the shattered window, knowing that the manager of the hotel wouldn't be very happy once he knew how many things have been trashed. His stomach muscles were jumping with the electricity they were attacked with. It didn't hurt all that much, partly because the volts were somewhat numbing, and Jin was still not fully recovered so he was a little weaker than normal.. The boy was lucky, Kazuya thought, that he didn't break his word to Hwoarang and destroy Jin right there.

"Well…" Lee spoke, watching Kazuya, "We're finally alone."

/He can't be serious./

A grin crept upon Kazuya's face as he closed the distance between them. He pushed his fingers through Lee's hair. Their lips met briefly as the two edged slowly toward the bed.

It was strange that there was no one shooting at him as he made his way over the gate. He strutted down the driveway in plain sight, looking around subtly trying to tell whether or not he was being watched. As the Korean finally made it to the front of the large estate, he stopped, spotting Heihachi standing on the front balcony, sneering down at him, the old arms folded over his chest.

Hwoarang glowered up at the old man, already aware that Heihachi was, in fact, the one responsible for the horrible shape of his rival. "How many of your men did it take to rough him up? 60? Why don't you come down here and face me like a man?"

"Wait there." Heihachi turned and walked back into his estate. Eventually the large front doors opened and the old man stepped out into the sun, looking the Korean over with an almost frightening leer. "From what I hear, I'm the only one of my blood left who hasn't become infatuated with you. Why don't you show me what I'm missing?"

"Fucking prick," Hwoarang muttered, jumping into a spin kick, only to have his leg caught, and twisted. Though it did hurt, it didn't stop him from yanking his leg away, and attacking with his other leg. He turned his back to Heihachi and his leg shot out behind him, getting the old man in the ankle, and then coming in for seconds, getting the old man in the jaw, and sending him into the air.

"I think it's time for some discipline." Heihachi growled, getting to his feet.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Hwoarang demanded, loudly, building up power, setting his fists slowly, and spinning into a powerful kick, getting Heihachi in the shoulder. "Why ar you doing this to me? Everything is so close to falling apart as it is. I don't need you disturbing it!" Hwoarang's eyes were almost red with anger. He brought his heel down on the old man's chest. "I won't let you take them away from me." His voice became almost frantic as he slid into a low kick, "I won't let you!"

Heihachi, finally getting a chance to make his own move, tackled the youth to the ground, and kept him pinned there. He called for his men, and soon a crowd of security personnel were holding the Korean down, and sticking syringes filled with sedatives into him. Heihachi got up and watched calmly as Hwoarang shouted at him in his language. Words Heihachi wasn't familiar with, but he was aware of the general meaning of them.

The men dragged Hwoarang into the building as Heihachi ordered them to take him into the basement where the labs were. Now that he got the bait, it was only a matter of time before the demons came to fetch it.

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