Tekken: In Enemy Arms: Part 2: Chapter 08 and Epilogue
Author: Judin Attery
Fandom: Tekken
Pairing: Fury/Lei/Irvin
Rating: Nc-17
Warnings: Sex, violence, non-con. Sounds good, doesn’t it. ;P
Summary: Tattoos are forever.
Part 3 is being written. Slooowly.
Kazuya’s office was dimly lit, but even this somehow added to the impression of wealth, taste and power that Lei got as he entered. The furniture was carefully selected, wood and leather in hues of brown and red, with the occasional large, green plant keeping it semi-welcoming. Beyond the window behind the huge desk, the business quarter of Tokyo could be discerned in the form of a thousand bright windows.
Kazuya was seated in his leather chair, burning the midnight oil. He had rolled up the sleeves of his red shirt, and opened the two top buttons, making him look surprisingly casual. Lee lay sprawled in a sitting group, and looked close to groaning with boredom, but when Bruce cleared his throat he became instantly excited. Kazuya also looked up, and closed the laptop he had been working on, clearing his desk of papers with a few, efficient moves. “You’re late, Irvin,” he said as he rose from his chair.
“We got caught up in traffic,” said Bruce in way of apology.
Kazuya came around the desk, leaned back against it and crossed his arms over his chest, grunting in acceptance. “Leave us.”
Bruce shot a worried glance at Lei before opening the door and urging Bryan out. The pale American seemed equally reluctant to go, but more out of interest than worry.
Kazuya raised an eyebrow at Lee, who eventually got the message and left the same way, muttering to himself. His eyes caught Lei’s for a moment as he passed him, and there something akin to understanding there, although of what, Lei wasn’t sure. Finally, it was just Lei and Kazuya.
“You really are incredibly annoying,” said Kazuya. In the dark his left eye glowed red.
Here was the one responsible for all of Lei’s misery; who had sent Bruce and Bryan after him, and taken Jun away. The Chinese was filled with righteous anger, the kind that burned in your head and twisted tendrils of frustration around your heart. Why was he here? It was obviously a response to the raid on the labs, but what was Kazuya planning?
When Lei didn’t answer, Kazuya sighed and went over to a cabinet, pulling out a bottle of whisky. “I was hoping we could settle this with some peaceful agreement, but you’ve always been an idiot.” He looked over his shoulder at Lei while getting two glasses out of a drawer. “You were Jun’s only failed project; even she couldn’t heal your stubborn stupidity.”
“How dare you?” Lei stalked towards the other man, fully intending to throw the first punch. “You haven’t exactly reformed either, Mr. Horns-and-tail!”
Kazuya surprised him by shoving a glass of whisky into his hands instead of meeting the threat with raised fists, but then Kazuya had never been one to show outward intimidation. “Stupid, stubborn and brash. Oh, and arrogant. I can’t imagine what Irvin and Fury see in you. You must be a great fuck.” He took his own glass and went over to the sitting group.
Lei looked down at the glass in his hands, cheeks burning. Then he followed Kazuya, but he didn’t sit down, settling for placing the glass on the table.
The Japanese raised an eyebrow, “It’s not poisoned. I didn’t fly you across the sea on a private jet to kill you with expensive liquor.”
“I don’t want any.”
“You will. You’ll need it.” Kazuya had already taken several sips of his own glass. The bottle stood on the glass table, between the two men. “As will I, I suspect.”
Lei was really confused now, and sank slowly onto the black leather sofa. “But this is it, isn’t it? Your last attempt at getting rid of me? You failed, your army failed, your lobbyists failed, even the two dogs you let loose on me couldn’t stop me,” this brought a silent chuckle from the Japanese, “so what do you have left?”
“You’re acting tough, but I saw you lower your shoulders when I sent my “dogs” outside. Perhaps they were not as effective in occupying your time as I had hoped, but they certainly rattled your cage."
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Lei heard the tightness in his own voice, felt it in his throat, but was pleased with himself for not following the bait.
Kazuya gave him a curious glance, but allowed it. He continued with a question of his own. “While I am a devil, I am also the world’s only hope of salvation right now. So why are you hammering on my door and not on Jin Kazama’s?"
Lei grabbed the glass from the table and took a drink. It burned in his throat. “Jin is a good man. He can be saved, snapped out of his trance,” but even as he spoke his doubts nagged on him; Jin had lied to him. “While you have shown yourself beyond redemption. You would save the world only to seize it for your own.”
Kazuya sneered, and there was great anger in the raised line of his shoulders, and in the hand that clenched around his empty glass, making blue veins bulge on the inside of his naked arm. “Beyond redemption? Are you still playing that same old track, you broken record?”
Lei’s whole body was burning for revenge now, as he pictured Jun’s angelic face as she had been the day he first met her, with the white headband in her silky hair. “She would never have chosen a bastard like you, someone so cold! She was too good-”
“Enough!” Kazuya slammed the glass onto the tabletop so hard that they both cracked, and rose from his chair, “When are you going to wake up! She never loved you! Never!”
The words hurt more than a kick to the stomach would have, and Lei was quickly on his feet, matching Kazuya growl for growl, glare for glare, “How would you know? You raped her.”
He was absolutely sure then, that the Japanese would kill him. Kazuya went deadly pale, and his clenched fists were shaking wildly, but worst of all were his eyes, raging red like bonfires. For an endless five seconds they were locked in a silent battle with themselves and each other. Then Kazuya stood down. He turned his back on Lei and went over to his desk, opening a drawer there. “This is why I had you brought here. To show you the truth.” He returned to the table with a folded paper. “Heihachi found it in the house she had lived in with Jin. Passing it on to me is one of the old bastard’s few decent acts in this world.” Before handing it to Lei, he poured another round of whisky for them both, a big one. Then he sat back in his chair, with his own glass, and watched as Lei read.
The Chinese read through the letter once, and then once more, slowly. Then he placed it on the table and pushed it towards Kazuya, without looking up.
The Japanese put the letter back in the envelope and replaced it in the drawer. Then he leaned on the desk and watched Lei gravely for a little while, giving him time to recuperate from the shock. But Lei didn’t move or speak for a very long time, and eventually Kazuya couldn’t be bothered to wait anymore. “Is this the end of our misunderstanding, then, detective? Can I go back to my work?”
Finally, the Chinese looked up, but he didn’t seem like he knew where he was. He opened his mouth but didn’t make a sound. Then he stood, slowly, and pulled his gun from his belt. Curling both hands around the handle, he pointed it at Kazuya. “I wonder what the world will think of this company once they learn that it’s run by the devil.” His voice was far away and absentminded. At Kazuya’s wide eyed response, Lei said, “I thought that you expected this, since nobody took the gun from me before I entered.”
The Japanese shook his head, “You’re not taking me in, detective. You’re going home. There are enough criminals in Hong Kong without you having to search for them in Japan.” While he spoke, Kazuya slipped a couple of fingers beneath the tabletop and searched the underside until he found, just on the edge, a small, round button. Lei saw him too late.
“Hey! Hands where I can-"
Bryan and Bruce burst into the room, throwing the doors open with a crash. Lei was badly startled and turned around to meet them, automatically pulling the trigger of the gun. The bullet grazed Bruce’s arm, but hit Bryan, burrowing itself into his shoulder. The African American fumbled for his own gun, grimacing in pain, while Bryan stared in mild annoyance at the hole in his shoulder. Lei was panting, eyes wide and gun still held high and pointed at the newly arrived Americans. “Don’t move!” he shouted, and Bruce froze, holding up his hands.
“Alright. Alright, we’re cool.”
Kazuya had not expected this. “Lei,” he said gently, but severely, trying to pull the detective’s attention away from Bruce, the only truly mortal of them. “That’s enough. Put the gun down.”
Lei looked to Kazuya and back the two Americans, confusion, doubt and rage fighting to twist his expression. “This is…all your…fault.” An old mantra that he didn’t sound like he believed anymore.
“Put down the gun. It’s over, detective. You saw the letter. You know her handwriting. I’m not trying to trick you.”
Slowly, Lei lowered the gun. There was emptiness in his eyes now. He looked slowly at Bruce and Bryan, who were examining their respective wounds. “I don’t ever want to see you two again.” He lifted the gun, aiming it at them, and Bryan pushed Bruce roughly to the floor just as the first bullet discharged, but Lei wasn’t aiming at Bruce; hardly blinking, he discharged the five remaining bullets into Bryan’s torso. In the dead silence that followed, Bryan looked more confused than anything, and Lei looked just as empty. He put the gun back in its holster and walked out of the office without looking back.
~*~
Dear Kazuya
I know that it’s absurd to write when I don’t even know if you’re alive. It’s not like I have an address to send this letter to, so it will probably just stay in my bedside drawer, but I want to believe that you will return to me someday, and I can give it to you then. When I close my eyes I can hear your heart beating, like I did when I slept in your arms during our first night together. It’s a comfort. I just wish you could be here with us now. Jin looks so much like you, and he’s always asking about his father. I’ve told him about your silent strength, so like his, and about your strict efficiency. He wants to be just like you, and I both fear and hope that he will be one day...
(The letter is most likely unfinished, with a large gap of empty lines between the text and the elegant signature on the bottom of the paper)
Love, Jun
Fandom: Tekken
Pairing: Fury/Lei/Irvin
Rating: Nc-17
Warnings: Sex, violence, non-con. Sounds good, doesn’t it. ;P
Summary: Tattoos are forever.
Part 3 is being written. Slooowly.
Kazuya’s office was dimly lit, but even this somehow added to the impression of wealth, taste and power that Lei got as he entered. The furniture was carefully selected, wood and leather in hues of brown and red, with the occasional large, green plant keeping it semi-welcoming. Beyond the window behind the huge desk, the business quarter of Tokyo could be discerned in the form of a thousand bright windows.
Kazuya was seated in his leather chair, burning the midnight oil. He had rolled up the sleeves of his red shirt, and opened the two top buttons, making him look surprisingly casual. Lee lay sprawled in a sitting group, and looked close to groaning with boredom, but when Bruce cleared his throat he became instantly excited. Kazuya also looked up, and closed the laptop he had been working on, clearing his desk of papers with a few, efficient moves. “You’re late, Irvin,” he said as he rose from his chair.
“We got caught up in traffic,” said Bruce in way of apology.
Kazuya came around the desk, leaned back against it and crossed his arms over his chest, grunting in acceptance. “Leave us.”
Bruce shot a worried glance at Lei before opening the door and urging Bryan out. The pale American seemed equally reluctant to go, but more out of interest than worry.
Kazuya raised an eyebrow at Lee, who eventually got the message and left the same way, muttering to himself. His eyes caught Lei’s for a moment as he passed him, and there something akin to understanding there, although of what, Lei wasn’t sure. Finally, it was just Lei and Kazuya.
“You really are incredibly annoying,” said Kazuya. In the dark his left eye glowed red.
Here was the one responsible for all of Lei’s misery; who had sent Bruce and Bryan after him, and taken Jun away. The Chinese was filled with righteous anger, the kind that burned in your head and twisted tendrils of frustration around your heart. Why was he here? It was obviously a response to the raid on the labs, but what was Kazuya planning?
When Lei didn’t answer, Kazuya sighed and went over to a cabinet, pulling out a bottle of whisky. “I was hoping we could settle this with some peaceful agreement, but you’ve always been an idiot.” He looked over his shoulder at Lei while getting two glasses out of a drawer. “You were Jun’s only failed project; even she couldn’t heal your stubborn stupidity.”
“How dare you?” Lei stalked towards the other man, fully intending to throw the first punch. “You haven’t exactly reformed either, Mr. Horns-and-tail!”
Kazuya surprised him by shoving a glass of whisky into his hands instead of meeting the threat with raised fists, but then Kazuya had never been one to show outward intimidation. “Stupid, stubborn and brash. Oh, and arrogant. I can’t imagine what Irvin and Fury see in you. You must be a great fuck.” He took his own glass and went over to the sitting group.
Lei looked down at the glass in his hands, cheeks burning. Then he followed Kazuya, but he didn’t sit down, settling for placing the glass on the table.
The Japanese raised an eyebrow, “It’s not poisoned. I didn’t fly you across the sea on a private jet to kill you with expensive liquor.”
“I don’t want any.”
“You will. You’ll need it.” Kazuya had already taken several sips of his own glass. The bottle stood on the glass table, between the two men. “As will I, I suspect.”
Lei was really confused now, and sank slowly onto the black leather sofa. “But this is it, isn’t it? Your last attempt at getting rid of me? You failed, your army failed, your lobbyists failed, even the two dogs you let loose on me couldn’t stop me,” this brought a silent chuckle from the Japanese, “so what do you have left?”
“You’re acting tough, but I saw you lower your shoulders when I sent my “dogs” outside. Perhaps they were not as effective in occupying your time as I had hoped, but they certainly rattled your cage."
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Lei heard the tightness in his own voice, felt it in his throat, but was pleased with himself for not following the bait.
Kazuya gave him a curious glance, but allowed it. He continued with a question of his own. “While I am a devil, I am also the world’s only hope of salvation right now. So why are you hammering on my door and not on Jin Kazama’s?"
Lei grabbed the glass from the table and took a drink. It burned in his throat. “Jin is a good man. He can be saved, snapped out of his trance,” but even as he spoke his doubts nagged on him; Jin had lied to him. “While you have shown yourself beyond redemption. You would save the world only to seize it for your own.”
Kazuya sneered, and there was great anger in the raised line of his shoulders, and in the hand that clenched around his empty glass, making blue veins bulge on the inside of his naked arm. “Beyond redemption? Are you still playing that same old track, you broken record?”
Lei’s whole body was burning for revenge now, as he pictured Jun’s angelic face as she had been the day he first met her, with the white headband in her silky hair. “She would never have chosen a bastard like you, someone so cold! She was too good-”
“Enough!” Kazuya slammed the glass onto the tabletop so hard that they both cracked, and rose from his chair, “When are you going to wake up! She never loved you! Never!”
The words hurt more than a kick to the stomach would have, and Lei was quickly on his feet, matching Kazuya growl for growl, glare for glare, “How would you know? You raped her.”
He was absolutely sure then, that the Japanese would kill him. Kazuya went deadly pale, and his clenched fists were shaking wildly, but worst of all were his eyes, raging red like bonfires. For an endless five seconds they were locked in a silent battle with themselves and each other. Then Kazuya stood down. He turned his back on Lei and went over to his desk, opening a drawer there. “This is why I had you brought here. To show you the truth.” He returned to the table with a folded paper. “Heihachi found it in the house she had lived in with Jin. Passing it on to me is one of the old bastard’s few decent acts in this world.” Before handing it to Lei, he poured another round of whisky for them both, a big one. Then he sat back in his chair, with his own glass, and watched as Lei read.
The Chinese read through the letter once, and then once more, slowly. Then he placed it on the table and pushed it towards Kazuya, without looking up.
The Japanese put the letter back in the envelope and replaced it in the drawer. Then he leaned on the desk and watched Lei gravely for a little while, giving him time to recuperate from the shock. But Lei didn’t move or speak for a very long time, and eventually Kazuya couldn’t be bothered to wait anymore. “Is this the end of our misunderstanding, then, detective? Can I go back to my work?”
Finally, the Chinese looked up, but he didn’t seem like he knew where he was. He opened his mouth but didn’t make a sound. Then he stood, slowly, and pulled his gun from his belt. Curling both hands around the handle, he pointed it at Kazuya. “I wonder what the world will think of this company once they learn that it’s run by the devil.” His voice was far away and absentminded. At Kazuya’s wide eyed response, Lei said, “I thought that you expected this, since nobody took the gun from me before I entered.”
The Japanese shook his head, “You’re not taking me in, detective. You’re going home. There are enough criminals in Hong Kong without you having to search for them in Japan.” While he spoke, Kazuya slipped a couple of fingers beneath the tabletop and searched the underside until he found, just on the edge, a small, round button. Lei saw him too late.
“Hey! Hands where I can-"
Bryan and Bruce burst into the room, throwing the doors open with a crash. Lei was badly startled and turned around to meet them, automatically pulling the trigger of the gun. The bullet grazed Bruce’s arm, but hit Bryan, burrowing itself into his shoulder. The African American fumbled for his own gun, grimacing in pain, while Bryan stared in mild annoyance at the hole in his shoulder. Lei was panting, eyes wide and gun still held high and pointed at the newly arrived Americans. “Don’t move!” he shouted, and Bruce froze, holding up his hands.
“Alright. Alright, we’re cool.”
Kazuya had not expected this. “Lei,” he said gently, but severely, trying to pull the detective’s attention away from Bruce, the only truly mortal of them. “That’s enough. Put the gun down.”
Lei looked to Kazuya and back the two Americans, confusion, doubt and rage fighting to twist his expression. “This is…all your…fault.” An old mantra that he didn’t sound like he believed anymore.
“Put down the gun. It’s over, detective. You saw the letter. You know her handwriting. I’m not trying to trick you.”
Slowly, Lei lowered the gun. There was emptiness in his eyes now. He looked slowly at Bruce and Bryan, who were examining their respective wounds. “I don’t ever want to see you two again.” He lifted the gun, aiming it at them, and Bryan pushed Bruce roughly to the floor just as the first bullet discharged, but Lei wasn’t aiming at Bruce; hardly blinking, he discharged the five remaining bullets into Bryan’s torso. In the dead silence that followed, Bryan looked more confused than anything, and Lei looked just as empty. He put the gun back in its holster and walked out of the office without looking back.
~*~
Dear Kazuya
I know that it’s absurd to write when I don’t even know if you’re alive. It’s not like I have an address to send this letter to, so it will probably just stay in my bedside drawer, but I want to believe that you will return to me someday, and I can give it to you then. When I close my eyes I can hear your heart beating, like I did when I slept in your arms during our first night together. It’s a comfort. I just wish you could be here with us now. Jin looks so much like you, and he’s always asking about his father. I’ve told him about your silent strength, so like his, and about your strict efficiency. He wants to be just like you, and I both fear and hope that he will be one day...
(The letter is most likely unfinished, with a large gap of empty lines between the text and the elegant signature on the bottom of the paper)
Love, Jun