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A Tekken Story: Through the Years - Volume I	By : DarkRomancer Category: +S through Z > Tekken Views: 4725 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Tekken but I do own my OCs and plot. If you steal, be prepared to suffer. I am also making no profit from this story what so ever.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Chapter Summary: Akira�s back at school, but it�s not a good day, as
her mind becomes heavy with her thoughts and hauntings of the past.
Disclaimer: I do not own Tekken but I do own my OCs and plot. If you steal, be prepared to suffer.
Chapter Warnings: A bit of swearing (like one word).
Notes: Ah, three chapters in three days! Safe to say that I
wouldn�t be uploading as much in the New Year. Anyways, I really loved writing
this chapter, although I had to tweak it a little of my favourite parts, so
I�ve got to rethink them.
Extra Notes: I know Shin Kamiya is not an official fighter of
Tekken, but I had to include him, even though I haven�t watched Blood Vengeance
yet. It looks good, and the reviews say it�s good, so I�m looking forward to
watching it soon!

Chapter 9 - Visions will up soon!
A
Tekken Story: Through the Years

�Made me
promise I'd try

To find my way back in this life

I hope there is away

To give me a sign you're okay

Reminds me again

It's worth it all

So I can go home

Together
in all these memories

I see your smile

All the memories I hold dear

Darling you know I love you till the end of time

All of
my memories

Keep you near

In silent moments

Imagine you'd be here

All of my memories

Keep you near

The silent whispers, silent tears�
�Memories�
- Within Temptation

Chapter 8 - Memories

In all truth, I had never seen Jin act the way he did when we
were in the Music room together, not with anyone, not Ryo, not Sakura, not Tae,
not Satomi, not Ichigo and certainly not Xiao or
Miharu. Just me.
But why? Jin told me that he felt more at
ease around me, but why did he feel that way around me and not the others?
Argh, it was too complicated, so I tried not to think about
it.
I had something else to think about - my past.
My past is something I don�t tell everyone. It�s something I
like to keep locked away, far away, never reflecting upon it or viewing my
childhood self.
Simply because I can�t remember.
Back when I was around twelve years old, me
and my father were involved in a car crash while driving from the airport to go
home, back to Mom and Hana. One minute, we were talking about whichever place
we had just visited (we often took trips around the world together), the next,
I was lying in a hospital bed, my memory damaged. It seemed that I had suffered
more dangerous injures than my father, so dangerous that I had to have
neurosurgery because I had suffered from an epidural hematoma. Not long after
the surgery, I fell into a coma, and despite all medical treatment I received,
I awoke nearly three months later with a fogged memory of the last twelve
years.
I was experiencing retrograde amnesia.
It took me a while to recover, to learn to walk again, to
rebuilding the relationships with my family, but there will always be a small
part of me that I lost.
Of course, I asked my parents to fill in the huge,
twelve-year-sized gap in my recollection - most importantly mine and Dad�s
frequent trips around the world.
Not long after Dad told me about our trips around the world,
I began having dreams about a boy; only he was completely covered in a shadow,
so I could never see or recognise his face. When I asked Dad, he said he
remembered that I had befriended a few boys the same age as me during our
trips, so it was hard to pinpoint exactly who was in my dream.
However, judging from the feelings I had towards the shadow
boy and the context of dreams, I felt as if the boy was someone special to me,
someone I shared a particular bond that I had never shared with anyone else in
my life, someone I loved deeply.
That why I wanted to find him so badly.
But why is he returning in my dreams now? After four years of
that incident, the shadow boy has returned to haunt my dreams.
But why?
�Akira�,� an
eerie, small voice was calling me.
I was lying on
the floor, face-down, my limbs frail.
�Akira�,�
I whimpered,
shaky pushing myself up with my fragile arms.
�Akira�,�
That voice�I
know that voice�
I directed my
wobbly legs to hold up the sudden intense heavy weight of my upper body,
planting my knee firmly on the ground.
�Akira�,�
I raised my
head, my chest heaving, my heart pounding as if I had run a marathon. Shock
leeched into my insides and my eyes widen at the sight before me.
�You�re�,�
The shadow
boy.
�But�you�,� I
started, but the shadow boy twirled around and ran off in the opposite
direction.
�Akira! Hurry!�
�Wait!� I
shouted after him, firing off after him like an Olympic runner.
The
weightiness bulk that had anchored down my muscles before dissolved after a few
lunging steps. My legs and arms swung together as I dashed ahead, a
hair-width�s away from the shadow boy. I reached down as I caught up to him, my
fingers inches from his shoulder.
Then he was
gone.
I skidded to
halt, glancing around in different directions, only to be met by
complete darkness.
�Akira! Please, hurry!�
I whipped
around to the shadow boy�s soft voice. I could see him, standing ontop of hill,
looking down, watching me. The only thing that kept me from running to him was
the sea-like crowd crossing transversely between us.
�Akira!
Please!�
Dammit!
�Akira, please
hurry!�
The shadow
boy�s pleading voice surged a current in my heart.
I had to go to
him.
�Wait!� I
submerged myself into the crowd of zombie-like people.
I fought my
way through them, punching, kicking, shoving, elbowing, treading of feet
purposely, but the harder I fought, the further away I got from the shadow boy.
�WAIT!� I
reached for him, my fingers skimming the palm of his hand-
I woke up with a start.
It was the first day back at school after the Christmas
holidays and I didn�t feel like my usual excited-induced self like I always do
on the first day back at school. Instead, I felt like I was wearing a
fake-coated shelled exterior, shielding my obscures from everyone, including my
friends. I falsely smiled and falsely laughed along with Ryo as we walked to
school, but my mind was reeling, making me lose focus, not that Ryo seemed to
notice.
Everything was revolving in my mind, making it ache with over
thinking - my past, my amnesia, the shadow boy, Jin.
I felt an ounce of guilt as I thought of Jin and our moment
by the piano. My heart belonged to Ryo, but Jin�
Argh! I can�t think of Jin that way! I can�t! I won�t!
Just focus on
the shadow boy. Why is he returning to my dreams?
My brain was too busy being hectic and eventful that I barely
noticed Ms. Kimura�s speeches
through registration until Sakura shook my shoulder and told me it was time to
go to Art with Ichigo.
My daze misted
over my attention again as we left the classroom and I trailed behind Ichigo and Sakura engaging in a conversation as we headed
for Art (at last) that I walked directly into another student whose was
transporting a stack of cardboard boxes so high they could barely see over the
top, sending us both to the ground, boxes crashing around us.
�Crap! Damn, I�m so
sorry!� Blame wrenched into my stomach as I crawled over to the other student.
�Ah, it�s
alright,� they reassured me, holding on the side of their head.
Crap.
It was Kamiya Shin.
�Damn, sorry Shin, I wasn�t looking where I was going,� I
jumped up to feet, dusted off my skirt and held out my hand for Shin,� Here,�
�Ah, thanks,� he slapped his hand into mine and let me heave
him onto his feet.
Shin was tall (but by this point, I had had a growth spurt
over Christmas and New Years, elevating from 5�5� to 5�10�), with lightly tanned skin, hazel orbs and
dark-toffee coloured hair that splayed out in every direction. He always had a
blue crystal necklace hanging from his neck and he always wore dark blue and
white striped trainers with his uniform.
�Are you alright?�
I asked.
Shin nodded,
rubbing the back of head,� Yeah, I think so,� he examined the cluttered heap of
boxes around us and sighed,� Damn, what a mess,�
�Here, I�ll help
you out,� I commenced picking up the boxes closest to me as Shin did the same,
piling ontop of eachother.
�What are you
doing with these boxes, anyway?� I huffed as I sturdied
my stack.
Shin threw the
last box onto his,� Coach Matsumoto caught me just as I leaving registration,
asked me to help him shift some boxes,�
�And being the helpful,
somewhat na�ve student that you are, you couldn�t say �no�, right?�
Shin provided with
a foolish grin,� I couldn�t resist,�
I chuckled,�
Anyway, where were you heading with these boxes before I so graciously bumped
into you?�
�The Gym office,�
I
nodded,� Alright, then.
Let�s go,�
Me and Shin made our way down the next few
corridors, vigilantly making our way around the last few students making their
way to their classrooms and weaving past teachers and caretakers, until we made
it to the subversive Gym office, dropping off the boxes of new sports
equipment. We then retraced our steps back up to the next level of the building
and stopped just outside of Art block.
I turned to Shin
as I picked up my bag,� I�m really sorry about bumping into you, Shin, I
just�I�ve had a lot on my mind lately,� I turned my eyes aside so I didn�t look
at him directly in the eye.
But to my
surprise, he shrugged like it was no big deal,� It�s cool,� he leaned forward
and placed his hand on my shoulder, forcing me to look at him,� If you want to
talk about it, I�m happy to listen,� and with a goofy but kind smile and wave,
he set off for his own classroom. I blinked as I watched him go, but smiled in
return and pursued for my classroom, running straight through the door, not caring
about interrupting the class.
�I�m sorry, I�m
sorry, I�m sorry, Sensei!� I cried, wheezing,� I was help-,�
Ms.
Kanemaru laughed nervously and waved her hand at me in dismissal,� Don�t worry
about it, Oshimaki-san. Now, go and take your seat,�
I
peered at Sensei curiously, ignoring the hushed whispers and annoying giggling
from the other students, but did as I was told and took my seat inbetween Ichigo and Sakura (more like collapsed as I tried to regain
my breathing with slumping shoulders).
�Hey,
are you alright?� Ichigo asked me, peering at me
closely.
I nodded,� Yeah. I just bumped into Shin, so I helped him take some boxes down to
the Gym office,�
�Oshimaki-san,
be quiet!� Ms. Kanemaru shouted, turning sternly towards me.
I
bowed my head,� Sorry, Sensei,�
�Right, class!�
she clapped her hands infront if the class and looked away as if it had never
happened,� As you know, today we�re starting your next piece of coursework. I
know, it�s exciting, isn�t it? As you know, each unit is different from eachother,
so this Unit will be �Childhood�. I want you all to create a portfolio of
several art pieces of things from your childhood then a large art piece as your
Final Pieces. You�ll have just this lesson to plan out your pieces. Off you
go!�
My childhood? Crap.
�Um,
Sensei?� I raised my
hand unsurely.
�What is it now,
Oshimaki-san?�
�Well, um, do we
have to use events from our childhood?�
Sensei sighed and
shook her head at me as if I was dim-wit who hadn�t been listening for the past
five minutes,� Of course you do, Oshimaki-san, otherwise the Unit wouldn�t be
called �Childhood� now, would it?�
Paying no
attention to the bothersome giggling erupting around me, I leaned forward on my
desk so I was touching the surface with my forehead.
Damn, could this day get any worse?
European
Literature with Jin did not get any better.
�I want you all
write an account of your favourite childhood memory,� Mrs. Hayashi announced (we have
been reading and analysing book�s on childhood memories, like Anne Frank�s
diary and The Freedom Writers Diary),�
Try to write everything you felt, saw, heard in that moment. Get your feelings
of why this memory is so important to you across to the reader,�
As soon as the other�s pens were poised and their
exercise books open, I was on my feet and I made my way to Sensei�s desk to
save myself the same embarrassment I had felt in Art.
�Um, Sensei?� I bent forwards so my hair covered up both sides of my face,
making a barrier between me and my classmates, my voice a soft murmur.
Mrs. Hayashi looked up from her lesson planner,�
Yes, Oshimaki-san, what is it?�
�Well, you see, I, um�I can�t complete this
exercise,�
Sensei grimaced in misunderstanding,� Whatever do
you mean, Oshimaki-san?�
I took a deep breath, not wanting to spell out the
long details, so I kept it brief,� I suffered from retrograde amnesia a few
years ago, so I don�t have much remembrance of my childhood,�
�I see,� Mrs. Hayashi whisked her glasses off her
nose,� Well, you�ll just have to try your best. I�m sure you�ll come up with something,�
Great. Thanks for your help.
I held back my tongue, nodded and sat down back in
my seat.
Jin nudged my elbow as I tossed open my exercise
book,� Are you alright?� he asked in a quietened tone, his traits creased in
concern.
I turned to him in surprise, but misleadingly
smiled and nodded,� Yeah, I�m fine,�
The writing
exercise carried on throughout virtually the whole lesson, and I was unable to
write a single word. Nothing really sprang to mind, and when I did tried and
remember something, it only came in flashes, not concrete enough for me to
write a few pages about. So, I just stared at my open pages blankly, hoping it
would trigger something.
For the last ten
minutes of the lesson, Mrs. Hayashi decided to share something with the class
that she had discovered over the holidays. She had read in the papers that a
Swedish artist named Alexander Larsson, who had moved to Shinjuku a few years
ago, had died in a tragic attack, so his girlfriend had turned their allocated
flat into a sort of museum of some of his artwork, including an unfinished
piece, and his studio were he worked for the public. Mrs. Hayashi had visited
the �gallery museum� and soon became a big fan of his work.
�He also wrote a
short story before he died,� she added waving a purple-leather bound book,� And
I�d like to read it to you now,�
�Many years ago, a once kind-hearted boy
met a pure-spirited girl, and in the small amount of time they spent together,
fate fell upon them. The girl fell in love, but a dark hatred was forcefully placed
in the boy�s heart. The girl tried to help Him, but it was in vain. The once
kind-hearted boy had become The Devil.
�The Devil and The
Angel did not meet again until many years had passed, when The Devil had been
consumed by limitless power, greed and corruption. When they laid eyes on one
another, The Angel could sense the darkness growing in The Devil�s soul, and
so, She became stronger, Her only wish to lead Him down the right path. The
strong connection they had once shared fused them together again, once and for
all. During The Battle
of the Century, The Devil was consumed by utter
darkness and fell, leaving behind The Angel and their seed.
�After witnessing such motivation to
extract revenge and the curse that had run through The Devil�s blood, She
decided to raise their son alone, to barricade Him from the torment and evil
The Devil had been consumed, by teaching Him only kindness and trust, promising
to show Him the truest, strongest quality in humankind: Love.
And she did.�

At first break, I didn�t
feel like facing anyone, especially Ryo, Sakura, Satomi, Tae and Ichigo, so I pretended like I didn�t know what my upcoming
Biology exam consisted of and paid a visit to Mr. Chikamatsu and went
through a checklist. But, unfortunately, I couldn�t play the same card twice at
lunch, so I headed up to the level below the roof by myself. The floor was open
and quiet; a few plotted plants doted here and there. I stepped out right to
the edge,
leaning my elbows on the metal railing, leaning into the cooling,
calm breeze that intertwined through my hair and brushed across my cheeks,
letting the gentle wind wrap around me like a blanket. I sighed delightfully,
closing my eyes and tilting my chin up to the gleaming sun.
�Akira?�
I almost jumped
out of my skin but I coiled around on the balls of my feet and gaped at the
person stood opposite me.
�Shin? What are you doing here?� I raised an
eyebrow, one hand clasped around the metal bar.
Shin raised the
same eyebrow,� I was about to ask you the same thing,�
I pushed a huge
force of air with my shoulders, my eyes stuck to the ground,� I just�I needed
some time alone,�
Shin strode closer
to me and did something totally unexpected: he reached out and gently touched
my shoulders, spreading his fingers along the clothed bones, the heel of his
hands almost slotting against the muscles of my shoulders. It was a
friendly-gesture - he seemed was slightly hesitant - but a ripple shivered
through my heart.
He peered closer
at me, his eyebrows raised, his eyes searching my face, his voice steady,� Come
on, Akira, you can tell me,�
I stepped back
from him, slanting my back against the solid blockade,� It�s nothing�I mean;
it�s nothing anyone can help with�nobody but me. It has something to do with my
past, that�s all,�
To my dumbfoundedness, Shin took hold of my shoulders again, but
this time to pull me close to him so my head was placed on his shoulder, my
chest crashed against his, one hand holding the back of my head so I couldn�t
remove my head, the other arm draped around my waist.
�You don�t have to
talk about it, but you ever need any help, I�m here for you,�
Shin had gone to Shinjuku Middle School with me and others too,
but I hadn�t really known him that well. We occasionally said �Hello� and �Good
morning� to eachother in passing and we had infrequently been partnered
together to work on class projects, but we had never spoken about anything
outside of school.
But now, Shin was
offering me help in my time of need, even though we weren�t great friends.
His kindness stung
my eyes. I surrendered to his warmth and let him comfort me for a little while.
An hour after I
had come back home from school, there was a knock at the door. I swung the door
open to reveal Jin with anxiety washed all over his features.
�Hey,� I greeted in
a low voice with a small smile.
�Hey,� Jin tipped
himself towards me and the open door a little,� Are you OK? We didn�t see you
at break or lunch. We were all getting worried,�
I shrugged,
supporting my weight against the door,� There�s some things that have going on
for a while now and it�s just getting to me a little bit,�
Jin�s eyebrows
furrowed frettingly,� Is there anything we can do to
help?�
I shook my head.
He took a step
closer,� Is there anything I can do
to help, then?��
I smiled, but it
wavered,� It�s something that I have to deal with on my own. Something that
nobody can help me with, I�m afraid,�
�You know, even
with a problem that can be overcome by oneself, some
people say it�s good to talk about it, anyway,�
I laughed to
myself,� I�m guessing you won�t be taking �no� as an answer?�
Maybe Jin�s right. Sure, he may not be able
to help me, but bottling it up certainly won�t help either. If Jin listens, it
may help me a little�
I nodded,�
Alright, just let me grab my coat,�
Since me and Jin had
been brought back together, I had never once visited him in the Mishima Mansion.
But now, I was
standing behind Jin, watching the wrought-iron gates shudder and slide across,
two men dressed in black suits, ties and sunglasses keeping a close eye on me.
Guards.
I nodded politely
at them (despite the uncomfortable glances they gave me) and sauntered in after
Jin, following him across the pebbly car-park (with one red, one blue and two
black gleaming limousines), pass the waist-high, neatly trimmed trees and
shrubs, pass the manicured acres of grass and the arranged multi-coloured
flower beds, up the grass-ridden steps and through the looming front door. He
led me through the larger-than-average genkan, where I removed my shoes and
placed them in a wardrobe-sized shoe chest, and into the gigantic room that
connected the stairs that directed up to the floor above.
This room was huge
- with a brown-checkered tiled floor; red-furbished stairs, completed with a
dark brown-wood barrister; bright, golden chandeliers hanging from the lit
ceiling and two marble Greek statues.
�Wow�,� I slowly
spun in a circle to scrutinize the room further.
�Ah, Jin, you have
returned�,� I rotated on my heel towards the top of the stairs, only to see the Lee Chaolan, dressed in a striped purple dress shirt with matching white vest and
pants, white shoes and purple gloves,
staring back at
me, both eyebrows raised, his mouth set in a devilish smirk,��and with a
guest,�
He leaped down the
stairs and when he stood infront of me, he bowed as close to ground as he could
get,� My name is Chaolan Lee. It is an honour to meet you, young Miss,�
I bowed in return,
my cheeks burning bright red, so bright that they probably glowed,� I-It�s an
honour to meet you, Mr. Chaolan!�
Damn, when did I start stuttering like a
silly schoolgirl?!
�Please, call me
Lee,� he took my hand into his and twisted it as it was facing palm-side down,�
May I ask for your name?�
�Um, I-I�m
Oshimaki Akira,�
�Then it is an
honour to meet you properly, Ms. Oshimaki,� he lifted my hand and kiss it
tenderly, making my insides melt into mush and suddenly not having the ability
to speak.
All I could was
watch, blink and blush.
�Now, if you�ll
both excuse me, I have some business to attend to,� he let my hand fall back to
my side and he stepped past me, while I stared after him like a dummy,� It was
nice to have met you, Ms. Oshimaki,� And with a wave, he turned and left.
I waved once his
back was turned and called out,� It was nice to have met you, too! Please, call
me Akira!� I didn�t know whether he heard me or not.
I twirled back to
Jin, my mouth agape, my eyes popping from their sockets,� You didn�t tell me
that you lived with Lee Chaolan!�
Jin crossed his
arms over his chest,� I did mention that I lived with my uncle called Lee!�
�Yes, but you
didn�t tell me it was the Lee
Chaolan!� I hissed.�
Jin just rolled
his eyes at me and motioned to carry on following him.
He guided me
dead-straight through the washitsus and the other rooms, directly into the
gardens.
If I thought that
the Shinjuku Gyoen was utterly breath-taking and beautiful, I was mistaken.
The Mishima
gardens stretched far and wide, beyond the horizon, almost as far as the eye
could see with flourishing trees and bushes, bladed spring grass, dusty gray
boulders and sparkling water.
Jin took me down
the contoured path until we were deep into the gardens, over the arched
red-brown bridge and to a man-made, wood-panelled boardwalk of sorts that
overlooked the fresh water pooled between sections of the garden. Up ahead was
a waterfall surrounded flowers of cartoon-pink, amber-red and lime-green.
�This place is
beautiful,� I said as I followed the suit of Jin, who had ducked under a
snowy-white blossomed tree and down the walkway,� Can I come and live here?�
Jin chuckled and
seated himself on the edge, cross-legged. I took the space next to him and let
my legs dangle of the edge, my feet dipping in the water. We sat in silence for
a long moment, both watching the water cascade down the unwieldy rocks, until
Jin cleared his throat and revolved his gaze towards. I stared at him
uncertainly, but give in and groaned, throwing my head in my hands as I blurted
the account of my life - the trips around the world, the car crash, the
surgery, the amnesia, the shadow boy, everything. He listened carefully,
nodding and interrupting me a few times to ask questions and even when I came
to point where I was close to tears, he shifted closer to me and covered my
shoulders with his arm.
�I see,� he said
when I finished, looking up to the sky before looking back at me,� Well, I can
understand why you don�t like talking about it with others,�
I felt the
familiar dull pain behind my eyes as tears started to swell, making my cheeks
stiff but he spoke again.
�Perhaps with
time, your memories will come back, but either way, I�m sure you will find the
one you are looking for. Destiny has a funny way of bringing people back
together. I mean, look at us,�
I impulsively
lifted my head up to look him squarely in the eyes and nodded,� Yeah, you�re
right,�
He squeezed my
shoulder and smiled,� Don�t worry, your heart will lead you the right way,�
After another hour
or so of talking and taking in the scenery, I decided to go home, and being the
prefect gentlemen that he was, Jin offered to walk me back, despite it only
being across the street.
As we surfaced
from the gardens and came back to the house, I heard a strident clunk against
stone and the crackle of electricity.
�Jin, is that
you?�
I turned to a
region plastered with stone stables and enclosed by a thin aged fence to see
the renowned Heihachi Mishima, geared in a blue, yellow and gold patterned
hakama, metal cuff wrist guards and a pair of dai
geta, his hair silvered unkindly from time that had passed since The King of
Iron Fist Tournament 2.
Jin paced towards
his grandfather, almost fear-filled,� Yes, Grandfather. I am with my friend,
Oshimaki Akira,�
I bowed on cue and
held out my hand,� It is an absolute honour to finally meet you, Mr. Mishima,�
Heihachi regarded
me for a split second, but his nose seemed to wrinkle in disgust. He presented
his back to us and slowly motioned his arms in circle, practising his kata, so
I lowered my arm,� What are you proceeding to do next, boy?�
I hated they way
he spoke to Jin.
�I wish to escort
Ms. Oshimaki back to her home and return here,�
I hated the way he
disregarded me.
Heihachi pivoted
his whole body, his legs extended,� Hmf,
do as you wish, boy. However, upon your return, I expect you to be in the dojo
for training. Understood,�
Jin nodded but
kept his head lowered, his eyes away from me and Heihachi,� Yes, sir,�
It seemed that
Heihachi Mishima wasn�t all that he was cracked up to be, the bastard.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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A Tekken Story: Through the Years - Volume I